The Mortcrater Party

byVandemonium1

SOMETIMES A MAN HAS TO DO WHAT A MAN HAS TO DO

Dear readers. The last story I published had the cheaters suffering fairly badly. One commenter hoped I’d got the angst out of my system. After reading this one, you should have the answer to that.    

Fair warning. If you believe that people who cheat should be forgiven, then you really, really won’t enjoy this one. 

Thanks XTCH for your support again.

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Melissa woke up confused on more than one level. Confused because she had no idea where she was and confused because she had no recent memories. She tried opening her eyes but quickly closed them again. The bright lights hurt. That is why it was her nose that solved the first riddle. It gave her the unmistakable smell of ‘hospital’. That solved one problem although it didn’t allay her confusion.

With nose satisfied, it was the turn of her ears. She recognised the music that was playing. It was the nightly 7PM news. She never missed it. It was a ritual at home that she and her husband always sat and watched it together. Husband, yes I have a husband, she thought. Even in her confused state she felt it was strange that whenever she tried to think of his name her mind slid off it. Try pouring water onto a duck’s back or a diamond. Yes, afterwards there is water everywhere but the duck or diamond is perfectly dry. Finally, after much effort, she had it. Dave. As soon as she thought the name her mind rapidly threw it away as if it was a hot potato.

Desperate to distract herself, she focused on the sound that had roused her. The music was gone. Now the newsreader was droning on. She quickly opened and shut her eyes to confirm there was a television on the wall and then concentrated on her ears.

“….we have received a DVD of his statement but for legal reasons we can’t show it. We can however read you excerpts from the transcript. A warning, parts of what follows may be offensive to younger viewers.”

To my darling wife. I hope my actions of today answer your questions of three weeks ago. ‘Can we get past this’ and ‘Can you forgive me’. Clearly my answer is ‘No’ to both of those.

To make the finances easy to understand, let me spell it out to you. I have cancelled our car and medical insurances. I have paid off all the credit cards and cancelled them. I have set up a trust to be the beneficiary of my life insurance, with my lawyer being the trustee. I added to this trust the entire contents of our bank accounts. When everything is settled, he has instructions to distribute everything to some nominated charities. Yes, I know this leaves the children with no inheritance but they have finished their education and I have given them the best possible start in life. I have no doubt they will be successful and my conscience is clear. I have written to them all, explained my actions and begged their forgiveness. No, I didn’t leave out one brutal detail. I suggested that they take the example of your life from now as a lesson in why you should respect your loved ones. It is my second last lesson to them.

I really wish I could be around to see how your life progresses. How will you explain yourself to our children, our friends and the children of our friends? But by now you realise that is impossible for me to be there.

For the record I am not doing this because I am suffering from depression or anything like that. In fact, anyone analysing my actions will see them as the product of an obviously sane and rational mind. Not that I didn’t have a reason to be pushed into insanity. It is bad enough to catch your wife in bed with another man but when she reacts by asking you to leave so they can continue, well, that could push even the strongest man over the edge.”

At this point, even Melissa couldn’t delude herself that the words coming from the newsreader weren’t aimed directly at her. She desperately forced her mind away from sensory input but that backfired when her memory threw up visions of the incident in question.

Dave had missed the monthly party of their close friend group. He was supposed to be covering the afternoon shift at the mine. She found out later that the shaft hoist had broken down and without a second means of egress from underground, work was prohibited. The group of nine couples had known each other for years and were all about the same stage in life. Either childless or empty nesters. This month Susan and Carl were the rotated hosts.

From later research, Dave had entered the party and immediately enquired where Melissa was. Some had genuinely not known, others made excuses. Susan told him his wife wasn’t there. It was Graham that gave the game away. He always was a terrible liar. He stammered out that he was ignorant of her whereabouts but Dave didn’t miss his eyes flicking up the stairs. Three people had apparently tried to stop Dave’s ascent but to no avail. 

When he burst through the bedroom door to see Carl pounding into her she was on the brink of orgasm. That didn’t stop her opening her eyes to see her husband over Carl’s shoulder. She had been holding off her climax as she knew from experience that Carl was close. In all their time together they had never had simultaneous orgasms and it was a goal of hers. It is often said that the closest a sane person can get to insanity is in the moments before orgasm. That is the only way Melissa could rationalise why she simply panted, “Go away” and shut her eyes in concentration. The moment for her was spoiled however, her climax ruined. Carl was blissfully ignorant of the exchange until well after he’d pumped her full. In mounting horror, he had joined Melissa in getting dressed and racing out to find Dave. He was gone.

With this particular mental scene over, Melissa couldn’t help her attention returning to the television.

“To the media. Can I suggest you use this opportunity for some public service? You could follow my ex-wife and the others involved around for years to see the long term effect on them. Hopefully if it is brutal and pathetic enough you could keep the lessons fresh in everyone’s mind for a long time to come. A constant reminder of the potential consequences of disrespect. That is unless the pond scum take the easy way out. I can’t see that happening though. Surely she can recognise the damage losing one parent will do and not want to compound it by the children losing both. Maybe the media can do a show on the socially correct way of ending a marriage as a counterpoint?

To the people that make the laws in this country. I know we changed to no fault divorces for reasons that seemed valid at the time, but surely it is time for a review. We now have data on the consequences of both the old and the new systems. Surly an independent review will spell out the wise way forwards, old, new or a third path. Off the cuff, can I make a suggestion? Maybe keep no fault for couples with dependent children but go back to the old system for couples without. Resurrect the system where cheaters are punished. All we have done with no fault is create an environment where if the primary care giver murders their spouse’s love and trust, they either end up with no consequences or are actually rewarded. That’s exactly what it seemed like when my lawyer told me I would end up with less than half my assets as a reward for a lifetime of fidelity and a career of risking my safety and health to provide a superior lifestyle for the cheating slut. One request though, wise ones. Make sure the review isn’t influenced by the hairy armpit, bull dyke brigade that seem to have an unhealthy control over our laws and are steadily advancing the cause of male subjugation. Also exclude those pansy assed, liberal, metrosexual, bend down and take it like a man, so called males that help the dykes. As a last note to the lawmakers. If you keep allowing farmers to feed hormones to the animals we eat, then be prepared to have a society where gender confusion increases.”

Once again, Melissa’s mind desperately tried to wander away from this horrible diatribe by reliving the past.

After the party, Dave had disappeared for a few days. Completely baffling all her and Carl’s attempts to find him. She felt no guilt on what she had done. It was all perfectly justifiable. Of course she regretted the way Dave had discovered them, but that wasn’t her fault.

When he reappeared, she was quite prepared to be verbally torn to shreds. It was the medicine she knew she had to swallow. Instead she was quite shocked by the hollow, lifeless hulk that appeared back in her life. Having had four days of peace to co-ordinate her defence, she launched it. Explaining that after Susan’s women’s problems of three years ago she’d lost the ability to enjoy sex with Carl. For his sake she’d still laid down whenever he requested but her lack of interest was soon apparent and that completely put Carl off his stride. Surely Dave could understand why, when Carl and Susan explained their marital problems, she saw it as her duty as a friend to help them out two or three times a month.

Couldn’t he see she showed her respect for her husband by making sure his own marital sex life had not suffered? Of course this inevitably meant that Dave occasionally got sloppy seconds. She just couldn’t bring herself to refuse him on days she’d been with Carl. After all, if she did that it would be effecting their marital love life. She had further shown her respect for him by not letting him go down on her on her Carl days. That was fine, after all it was her missing out, not him.

Couldn’t he see she’d protected him by being discrete? In the whole three years, only three other couples in their friend group knew about the whole affair and had to be sworn to secrecy. Melissa had simply beamed with pride when delivering this snippet. After all Dave wouldn’t want all his friends to think his wife was a slut would he?

Finally, couldn’t he see why Susan, Carl and she had kept it from him? After being married for so long she knew her husband as well as herself. She knew his pride would find it extremely difficult to allow him to share her with another man. So she had skillfully saved him that angst by keeping it secret.  

All these justifications had been pre prepared before the party. The one that took the whole four days of Dave’s absence to justify, was her response on being caught. In hindsight, her statement of “Go away” could have been misinterpreted as indifference. In the end, her justification was that she had been caught up in the moment. In addition, imagine if the tables were turned. Put in Carl’s place, would Dave have welcomed his orgasm being totally ruined?

At the end of all this she realised David wasn’t impressed. In fact he showed no reaction at all. Feigning remorse, this was when she’d asked him to forgive her and hoped they could get over it. There was never any doubt in her mind that it was only a matter of time and patience. Over the next three weeks she gave him the space to come to terms with it in his own time. They never spoke of it again but she was relieved that he was almost back to normal. Except for the strange look in his eye. In hindsight it was as if the pilot light had gone out. He was obviously still processing things as he hardly spent any time with her but worked on his projects in the garage. Melissa could hear his cement mixer humming away at all hours. It never occurred to her to ask why there was never any fresh concrete. 

Over that time, the phone had rung hot. The couples ‘in the know’ worried about Dave and Mel’s marriage. The previously ignorant couples pumped her for information. Feeling bad for how it might look to the uninformed, she had bent the truth slightly. She told them that Dave was fully aware of the arrangement with Carl and Susan but had requested that she abstain that weekend as it was their anniversary. She apologised that she had dishonoured that request and that they, their friends, had to witness Dave’s subsequent anger.

Carl constantly asked Melissa if Dave was ready for him to apologise yet. Melissa advised him to hold off. With no sex from Dave, Melissa got Susan’s blessing to increase her visits to Carl’s bed to once a week at least.

Three weeks after the event, Melissa started putting pressure on Dave about the monthly party. It was their turn to host it. It was also time for them to show their friends that everything was back to normal and their friendship group could continue uninterrupted. She stressed that it was unfair for some of their friends to still be uncomfortable over events that had nothing to do with them. That was the first time she saw any sort of emotional reaction from Dave. He showed some excitement. Melissa remembered being relieved that he was finally ready to move on.

The dates of their parties were set in stone. The last Saturday of every month. That was why it was unusual when two of the couples declined to come, citing previous engagements. It was a relief to Melissa that both fell into the ‘previously ignorant’ category. No worries. Less people to continue stretching the truth to. Everyone else came though and the party started off very well. Thirty minutes later, one of the other, ‘previously ignorant’ couples left saying something had come up. Twenty minutes later they were followed by a second.

Suspicious, Melissa had kept a closer eye on the interactions between the remaining people. The mood in the house was noticeably quieter, which wasn’t fully explained by the dwindling population. She watched Dave talking to Jenny and Frank from across the room. Being very perceptive, she saw the intense look on Dave’s face and the downcast look on the face of both his companions. Shaking his head, Dave moved on. Curious, Melissa followed him as he moved to Sandra and Bob. Again the intense look from Dave. This time there were no downcast eyes but vigorous shaking of heads and animated conversation. Five minutes later Sandra bid Melissa goodnight and the couple left.

To say Melissa was angry was an understatement. What right did David have to alienate their friends? She decided to give him a piece of her mind. She stormed into the kitchen to confront him. Carl, seeing the look of thunder on her face followed her, disobeying her instructions to stay the hell away from David.

“What the hell are you doing upsetting our friends? Can’t you see you are embarrassing me?”

“I’m sorry dear, just finding out who the innocent parties were and who the conspirators were. Ah, Carl, welcome. I’m glad you’re both here. In the spirit of fair play and in respect for our years of friendship, I must tell you that I am now going to the basement to retrieve my pistol from the safe. When I return, I will be shooting you both dead.”

With that Dave turned and slipped out of the room. Carl tried to grab his arm but Melissa held him back.

“Come on Carl, let’s get out of here.”

“You’re not serious Mel. He won’t do it. He’s just trying to get some payback by scaring us.”

“You didn’t see his eyes Carl. Dave has green eyes. That….thing had black eyes. They were the eyes of a monster. I think we created that monster. We have to get out of here NOW,”

“What about Susan?”

“Leave her. She’s safe. It’s us it wants.”

That was all Melissa remembered for the moment. With no more action replays, her attention returned to the television.  

“To all the family and friends of people who called themselves my friends but failed to alert me to what my darling wife was up to, my profound apologies. I hope I have sent a message to our society that this unacceptable behaviour should be punished. With the media’s help, this lesson could last for years. If nothing else these loathsome creatures have been expunged from the gene pool.

Finally to my former friend Carl. 35 days after me, you are going to learn the same lesson I did. That the one thing far worse than death is to abruptly lose the person you have loved unconditionally for so long. To have your heart torn from your chest and pissed on while it is still beating. As I said to your slut, good luck trying to explain the loss of their mother to your children knowing in your heart that they believe it was all your fault. Your children can share in the last lesson I am giving mine, seeing how a real man dies. And good luck explaining it to all your other family and friends. I think history may judge that Susan got off lightly. Worse than death is a life spent regretting the suffering you have caused to so many. Goodbye my friend, I’ll see you in hell.”

Melissa lapsed into unconsciousness, again her mind vivid with suppressed memories. Of her dragging Carl out of the front door and hearing the deadlock click behind her. Of reaching the other side of the street where she briefly glanced over her shoulder to see Dave looking out the window at her. Of continuing to run until the enormous explosion threw Carl and herself to the ground. How, just before she lost consciousness from the concussive blast wave, she instinctively dragged Carl under a truck to avoid the falling debris. The remembered pain woke her again.

“Now back to today’s top story. A house in Mortcrater was destroyed today in an enormous explosion. Two people outside the house were injured but are reported in a satisfactory condition. A police spokesman said it was believed at least eight people were present in the house and are feared dead. This station has determined that the house belonged to David Brown, a shot firer at the local mine. More details will be released later.”

Melissa lapsed into blessed unconsciousness again but those flashbacks just wouldn’t leave her dreams. She remembered Dave telling her once about the most common explosive he used at work. It was simply a mixture of a common garden fertiliser and petrol or kerosene or some type of fuel. She’d asked him if it was easy to make and he’d replied it was simple. You just had to thoroughly mix them somehow, say in a cement mixer, then get a detonator and booster to set them off.

Finally as a merciful cloak of darkness descended over Melissa, one last collage of despair played across her memory. In the shattered remnant of her mind she saw again Dave standing at the window of their house. In his left hand a small yellow box from which wires dangled. Behind him peered seven worried faces, sharing their glances between the box in Dave’s hand and the fleeing couple out the window. In her minds’ eye she saw Dave’s green eyes shining as his face crinkled in a smile. She watched in slow motion as he raised the box in one hand and pressed a button with the other.

 Epilogue Two months later.

Tonight on 10, in our regular public information segment, we were going to bring you an update on Carl Weston, the lover in the infamous Brown/Weston tragedy. Unfortunately, due to his tragic suicide this week we won’t be able to. Instead, we will be bringing you an interview with Dora Smith, eldest daughter of Janet and Graham Smith, one of the couples who died in the Mortcrater explosion. Then we’ll be bringing you an update on the spate of confession stories, divorces and requests for counselling services flooding the country. The ACP reports the current waiting list for marriage counselling services has blown out to three months. Stay tuned.

The end

The story is over. Read on only if you want to listen to my personal ramblings.

Many of my stories have lessons within them, I deliberately slip them in. For example, in ‘Grim Reality’ I tried to advance the social standing of stay-at-home mums, a worthy cause that I am passionate about. In ‘Onslaught’ I tried to get you to spare a thought for emergency responders. This one is no different.

Although I have never personally gone through a messy divorce, I see them all around me. I’ve had enough guys crying on my shoulder to suspect the law is seriously flawed. Unfortunately women don’t cry on my shoulder even though my wife leads me to believe that I am a sex object. I propose sex, she objects.

One case I am familiar with was an old school mate of mine. His wife screwed around on him, kicked him out of the house and brought her lover in to help raise his kids. Not happy with the 80% of their assets she was on track for, she was publically boasting that her lawyer was confident of getting 90%. I suppose sick of the humiliation meted out to him by the great legal system, my school mate took matters into his own hands. To my shame, I last saw his orphans at his funeral. I’ll be the first to admit that his actions were completely abhorrent but there can’t be any person on the planet, with a sense of justice, that can’t feel a tiny piece of empathy for him as he pulled the trigger. I think it’s time we reviewed the law, don’t you?

THE MYSTERY OF THE HAIRY ARMPITS

The more perceptive of you may have noticed some rare passion from me in the paragraph covering the ‘hairy armpit brigade’. I meant every word of it. Our elected representatives think they run the country. They don’t and I will demonstrate. Australia has had no fault divorce for years. In 2006, politicians finally bowed to lobby groups and amended our ‘Family Law Act’. The pressure was exerted by the non-primary caregivers (usually the father) who were being screwed over in divorces by the primary caregivers (usually the mother). The preamble to the amendment set the tone or intent of the document. The intent of the change was that once a mother and father split, there was an assumption under law that both parents would have shared care of the children, 50/50. Non-primary care givers did well for the next couple of years and shared care worked as it was designed. Since then case law and precedents have watered it down, so now ‘shared care’ means the junior parent getting their kids one weekend every two weeks. How did that happen? Studies were commissioned and completed showing, supposedly, that it wasn’t healthy for the children to spend an equal time with both parents. If you want to find the hairy armpitted ones and their accomplices, in our society, then look at the ones who commissioned the studies, the ones that completed them and the children’s services people that contributed.

Take the case of an employee of mine, Merv. Hard working, loyal and seems a decent sort. His wife cheated on him and threw him out of his and his daughter’s house. He spent every penny he had on lawyers trying to see his daughter. His non-working wife got a free, ‘legal aid’ lawyer. With his last dollar Merv got the court to issue an order forcing his wife to deliver his daughter to him one weekend a fortnight. She didn’t comply. He is currently saving to get the court order enforced.

Thanks Merv for lending me some of your rage for this story.

I have spent time in court twice. Once as a juror and once as a witness before you write me off as a hardened crim. Both times the judge was quietly dozing on the bench. I never spotted who was actually running the show but it couldn’t have been the judge.

I see hairy armpits. I see them everywhere. Don’t bother looking for them in parliament or congress. That’s not where the power is. They hide in the backrooms of the court system where the real decisions are made, in the child support agencies and child services. Merv sent me a photo from the child services office waiting room once. It was of the reading material they had for people to read while waiting. He didn’t see anything like a ‘Wheels’ magazine but the photo clearly showed one called, “Aquarian Woman’ and a pamphlet called, ‘How To Contact Your Chi’. Ladies and gentlemen, I rest my case. Men and women can be equal. Let’s not just swap male dominance for female dominance.

COWS WITH BALLS

Look around you ladies and gentlemen. It can’t be just me that sees that the young males of today are getting more effeminate and the young females more aggressive. Look at the number of couples struggling to conceive the next generation of our species. Talk to your doctor who will confirm that the drop in the male sperm count, caused by plummeting Testosterone levels, is the cause.

In a drive to become competitive, some farmers are feeding all sorts of hormones to the animals we eat. It makes them grow faster. Could that be a contributing factor? Of course it fucking is. Of course the Farmers and Graziers Associations trot out reputable science to show no connection. You might recognise this science, the tobacco industry used it 20-30 years ago to deny a connection with lung cancer.

My wife drives for 20 minutes, once a week, to a butcher that guarantees hormone free meat. It is slightly more expensive than other places but that is a price we are both willing to pay. My 15 year old son is 6’ 2” already and shaving once a day. He is the alpha male of his friendship group. All signs to this proud father that he has high testosterone. Find a butcher who is hormone free, you owe it to your children.

Tonight, why don’t you ponder on these things? Turn off ‘Big Brother’ or ‘Celebrity Chef’ or whatever you normally watch that if not specifically designed to turn your brain to mush, certainly has that effect. Think about things. Talk about things. In an ideal world, act on things.

Thank you for your patience. Can someone help me put my soapbox away please?

The author.

Now lighten the fuck up.

A hypnotist was doing a show in the town hall. As usual, he was a little nervous before the show so went into the bar next door for a couple of muscle relaxants. Three local gents recognised him and poked fun at him, calling him a charlatan.

Defending himself he said he would prove he wasn’t a charlatan by giving them free tickets to the show, on the proviso that they came up on stage when he asked for volunteers.

True to their word they did and he humiliated them as only hypnotists can. Near the end he said quietly to them. I’m going to snap my fingers in a moment and you will awake. For being such assholes, I am going to put a curse on you. The first thing your wife says to you tonight, you are going to do and you are going to do it literally.

Snap.

The same three guys, the same bar, the next day.

Joe is covered in splinters, bruises and brick dust. Mark asks him, “What happened to you?” “Fucked if I know. Got home last night and couldn’t find my keys, so I started banging on the door. The wife poked her head out the window and said, ‘that’s right, knock the bloody house down’. So I did.”

At this point Joe looks at Mark, blackened and singed. “What happened to you?” “Fucked if I know. Got home last night, lying in bed and lit up a smoke. The wife said, ‘that’s right, burn the bloody house down’. So I did.”

At that point, John walks in looking fit and well but carrying a cardboard box with blood dripping from it. “What happened to you Mark and Joe chorus?” “Fucked if I know. I was lying in bed last night, feeling a bit randy, so I felt the wife up. She yelled, ‘you can cut that out’. So I did, fucking ugly isn’t it?” ,