Is he waving? Act surprised. Act happy. “Hi Haliil, what’s up man, how is school going.” I ALMOST GAG AT THE NICETIES COMING OUT OF MY
MOUTH. IT WILL BE OVER SOON! IT WILL BE OVER SOON! BE RATIONAL, BE INTENTIONAL, KEEP BEING NICE!! “I haven’t seen you in awhile; I still owe
you that fishing trip. You haven’t been without me have you? Good. Do you have summer classes……..well, let’s go this Saturday then. My
buddy with the boat has to work, we can take it out, I’ll ask my brother and Amy to go, she wants to see you, how come you haven’t been over much
lately. Is it a yes? Great, I’ll pick you up at five Saturday morning; do you still live out in Alumni Village? Uh! You know that place is
scary. When are you gonna get a roommate, or a land phone or something? It would be weeks before anyone knew if you fell in the shower out there,
all alone. Someone would miss you eventually, but I don’t think anyone, besides me and Amy, knows where you live. Your cell phone is always dead,
you usually don’t call back for days. You’re a ghost sometimes. I know, I know, ‘head in the books,’ full-ride, big-time lawyer, yada yada,
whatever, I’ll see you Saturday.”
I thought about it, and I couldn’t believe it, but lately I thought about it more and more.. The images of their intertwined bodies cascaded
through my mind. A train wreck was throbbing behind my eyes, in my throat, and deep in my loins. It was unstoppable, unbearable. My imagination was
surely worse than their actual deeds. Cruelly, I found guilty pleasure, even arousal in the fantasies my mind rehearsed. An entire year of avoiding
him culminated today. I could no longer escape this creator of my rage, my ecstasy. Today was certainly a call to action; today he had unknowingly
come face to face with his fate, and he would pay for both of their actions. Tunnel vision and my pounding heart still blocked the rational plans I
had carefully devised for this occasion. Now in the war room my mind had become, shame and revenge were counseling my thoughts. A Picasso of
distorted logic, shrinking rationale, pushing and pulling between my conscious and my unconscious emotion was tearing away inside me. It was clear;
he must die! But, I had to think; I had to act clearly, nicely, intentionally.
This would not be difficult. He was an exchange student thousands of miles from family and friends. His few college acquaintances tolerated him,
like me. They befriended him out of charity and for the occasional boost of intellect he inserts into their otherwise mundane conversations. He was
worldly. Despite being born in Florida, he attended an all male school of the Koran in Pakistan. He lived in London, Switzerland, Paris. His father
was a surgeon, and a very traditional Muslim. It was obvious Haliil was a smart fellow, but his mannerisms, his femininity, his arrogance put him at
odds with most of us….except the girls. He was tall, thin, and olive skinned, but the girls didn’t normally find him attractive, he was more of
the ‘gay friend’ of the group, and that was exactly why the guys hated him. He was certainly not gay. He used this inside approach to gain
comfort with the girls. He was a trusted peer to the women, a friend. He had a position most men covet and despise at the same time. He moved in
with a friendly hug, a caring shoulder, some fashion advice from Europe, a little humorous talk about the guys; he only needed one chance to score.
And his chance came. But why her? Why the forbidden one? Why the married one? Why the one person with the most dire of consequences? Why the one
with a husband from the back country. The one with a husband experienced in dealing with his kind of people. The one who moved from state to state
to escape the ugliness he was capable of. One night of too much alcohol, too much trust, too much curiosity, and a little too much privacy would
cause the extinguishing of this bright, young Pakistani.
He smiles as he leaves. This will be far too easy. He has no idea that I am aware, that I dream nightly of their erotic scenes unfolding, that I
awake to his life gurgling out between my calm, calloused hands, and that I can’t return to a peaceful sleep, because I know these are not
nightmares. This is not new to me, it happens often. I know in my dream, these are memories, but in physical life they have yet to happen. I also
know how simple this act has become. I plan unconsciously in my sleep; I plan in my daydreams; the plan is perfect. It is my most primal instinct.
It is simply survival. Survival of my species, my family, my self, he is of less importance to this world than I, and far less important than her. I
don’t even have to remind myself anymore that he doesn’t matter, he no longer exists, he is living in a borrowed, sinful, soul-less body. I must
protect my family. I must do what is necessary.
For this to work, Saul’s boat must be available all weekend, my brother will have to take a trip for me, and I will have to disappear on Friday
night. My alibi will be impregnable. My loyal younger brother would be happy to lie for me, but that is risky. He has to be unaware, he can then
truthfully defend me, pass a polygraph if needed, and look steadfast into Amy’s eyes. I need to check with Saul first, it is his boat, and I need
for him to buy my apology, my cancellation, and my good intentions. Haliil will smell trouble if I am not very careful. He surely feels the added
weight of his guilt around me. Even in my supposed ignorance he will be edgy. Hurry up and ring, “Tire’s R Us, this is Saul.”
“Saul, what’s up, you going fishing this weekend? . . . . .Work! . . . But it’s gonna be beautiful out! How is the boat running? . . . . .
Great, what have you been catching lately? Shark! You don’t still use that big, gaudy chummer do you? . . . . . .You are a dinosaur! . . . .HA! I
was trying to take my brother and a buddy out this weekend, but if you’re too busy it’s fine, we’ll do it some other time. . . . . . No, I
couldn’t just take it; I’d feel bad for you working stiffs back on the shore. . . . . . I know you owe me, but it’s still better when you come
along. . . . .Fine. We’ll go this weekend, and Wednesday I’ll help you out at the house. Thanks man! It’s already in the water isn’t it? .
. . .Great!”
I feel better. My stomach is tight, like the butterflies I used to get before a big game in a small football town. I enjoy this feeling, it pulls
my shoulders back, my head is higher, my posture is perfect. I wish I could give my brother more details, but it will only give him problems. Matt
is a good kid, a nice kid. At six years my junior, people still think he is my twin. His main difference is an infectious smile. The switch has
worked before, and it continues to work today. He befriends people, and I move in and seal the deals. We are perfect together, but sometimes he has
to work blind. He couldn’t pull it off, if he thought anyone could get hurt. I know he has always longed to be involved in my secret dealings, but
I have to protect him. He helps unknowingly, because I have to protect him, because I know he would protect me, and I can’t let him pay for my
crimes, or worst yet, my sins.
edit on 18-9-2011 by getreadyalready because: (no reason given)