Chapter 5 (Carrie)

Carrie Stetsin begins a strange odyssey.

"Carrie!" a reedy voice from downstairs screeched.

 Carrie flinched. A slow, sullenly resigned flinch. She had heard that voice countless times before.  That is why she had married Brad. To escape that ceaseless wail. 

 Carrie had just turned 20 when she met Brad. He was a tall and lanky boy with slate colored eyes and jet black hair. His complexion was pale and flawless. Brad spoke well, had great social timing, and was polite and cordial to a fault. He was almost too good. What he saw in her was almost beyond her comprehension. Carrie was average at best. She had a short thin body that lacked curves or breasts. Generic brown hair that hung limply after being parted in the middle. Deep set brown eyes on top of a nose that was a fraction too small and button like. And her worst feature (in Carrie's opinion) was a too wide mouth with thinly stretched lips. 

 Brad had won her quickly. She had been at a party with her cousin Jodi when she had first seen him. He came rushing into the party amidst a chorus of cheers and handshakes. Soon a flask was produced and a group of men surrounded him. Carrie had spent the last hour trying not to be noticed and was doing a fairly decent job of it. Brad had noticed her though.

 Within minutes he was in front of her offering the flask. She laughed limply and extended her thin arm. His fingertips had brushed her hand before placing the flask in her palm. She couldn't help smiling as she drank. They both laughed.

 Later that night she had given herself to him without protest. It wasn't her first time but it had never felt good before. It wasn't just his sex that made it good; it was the words. The stare. His touch. Everything was right.

 From that night on for the next 3 months they were inseparable. When he asked her to move in she quickly agreed. Her parents had exploded. "My daughter is not moving in with a 29 year old man!" her father, Robert Stetsin had shouted.

 Tammie Stetsin; The World Class Shrieker and shrew of a woman sat mouselike and prim. Her nervous eyes and tight pale face remained motionless and void of expression.

 "Does he have a job? A car? His own place? How long have you known him? Is that why you've been out so many nights with Jodi? To see him?"

 Robert Stetsin appeared to be rather astounded about why his 20 year old daughter might want to meet a man. He sputtered for a brief moment then relaxed as he plumped into his favorite recliner while slowly shaking his head. 

 "You'll like him." Carrie had suggested. 

 And they had. They f*****g loved him! 

 When the Stetsin family dined out (which they rarely did) they did so at The Steak Pit. A seen better days restaurant that was dark and dreadfully slow. As the radio commercial proclaimed "If you can eat our 36 ounce porterhouse, well shucks, we'll eat the bill!"

 The night Brad met a nervous Carrie and the somber parents it had been wonderful. Within minutes Brad had won her Dad over after explaining that he was a well to do machinist and in fact owned a vehicle and a home. Tammie Stetsin loved his manners and his "listening" she gushed during their drive home. 

 "He's the kind of man that can support you and your babies" her mother said pleasantly.

 "You don't see many young fellows like that. He has a job and goals. And he's already accomplishing most of them!" Robert had boasted; as if Brad was his own son and machine of design.

 Carrie didn't care about any of that. She just loved that this good looking young man paid her his undivided attention as no one else had (besides her mother's perpetual shrieking).

 The Stetsin's had quickly reversed their decision on the two "Shacking Up" as Robert had earlier described it. By the end of the month Carrie had moved in with Brad and upon his request had quit her job at the boot factory.

 Within a month Carrie was doubting her decision to move in with Brad. The rift had started in September when Carrie had told Brad she was taking a weekend away to hunt pheasant with her father, uncle, and cousins. Brad was livid.

 "With that drunk w***e-cousin Jodi?" he had spit "I'd like to see what kind of nights out you two would be spending. Her being such a w***e and all".

 "There aren't any nights out!" she argued "We stay in the lodge! It's in the middle of a game farm!"

 "What about that long haired college boy? Is he coming?"

 "Jack?" she questioned "He's my cousin!"

 "I'm sorry but you're not going. Discussion over."

 With that he returned to his motorcycle magazine and ignored her.

 It had gotten worse. And rather quickly. "I don't understand why you can't just put off the painting for one more week!" Robert Stetsin had complained.

 "Brad's parents are coming to visit and we want the house to look good. His Mom is a stickler when it comes to things looking nice." Carrie tried to explain.

 "They only live 20 miles away. I don't understand why you  can't reschedule?" her father had whined.

 Carrie remained silent. 

 She remained silent all weekend in fact. While her family hunted pheasant she had spent the days not painting but avoiding Brad and his explosive outbursts. They were senseless and sporadic. 

 He lay morose on the couch guzzling beer and watching fishing shows. When he wasn't emptying his bladder or chain smoking on the back stoop he was glowering at Carrie. 

 By Sunday morning when he realized that Carrie couldn't possibly drive to meet her family and that the threat was over he became pleasant and engaging. She quickly forgave him. 

 As logic would dictate the next episode wasn't far off. Carrie had been invited to a bachelorette party and had actually forgot about it until Jodi had phoned while driving to pick her up.

 "Oh s**t, Brad. I told Jodi I would go to a bachelorette party tonig.." she managed to say before being struck severely across the mouth. 

 While her chest heaved and the blood rose in tiny clusters on her lips a car's headlights splashed through the living room. "You're not going anywhere with that w***e-cousin." he vowed.

 Carrie thought it sounded like "Oar cussin'."  

 Her phone rang. Brad snatched it out of her hand and threw it across the room. It struck the wall and fell lamely to the floor. Carrie flinched. Brad smiled. 

 Soon Jodi was knocking at their door. Brad glared briefly then retreated to answer the door. "Hi Jodi. Carrie's not feeling well." Brad stated in a rehearsed voice.

 "I just spoke to her, Brad. Where is she?" Jodi said brightly as she angled her head around the doorjamb.

 Her face collided with a pale forearm as Brad quickly suppressed her craning motion. The smile dropped from her face and her tone darkened.

 "What the hell is going on here?" she quietly asked.

 "Carrie's not feeling well." he said again as his plastic smile cracked.

 "This is bullshit. Let me in Brad." she said while trying to wrestle past his forearm. 

 "Listen w***e-cousin." Brad had rasped "If you think Carrie is going to suck black stripper c**k you're mistaken."

 Jodi stared incredulously at Brad. Piece by piece his mask was falling off and she was disgusted by what she saw. Within seconds she was hurrying down the front walk without so much as a backwards glance. 

 Brad turned towards her. Carrie backed into the corner. 

 After that he had taken to calling in sick to work. Most of those days he remained sullen and lethargic. Her phone had not been replaced and she remained busy with chores and watching the birds as they fed outside the dining room window. Brad remained on the couch watching TV while slowly brooding on her movements.

 A week later he had been told by his foreman that he needed to come in for his shift or else he would be replaced. While dressing the following morning he had been mostly silent. His eyes spoke volumes. "You do not leave this house." they said.

 While vacantly shoving pancakes into his mouth he blandly stated "No phone calls. No guests."

 The TV droned on in the background. "In further news law enforcement officials are imploring the public to stay inside and to stay away from metro area hospitals and high traffic areas. A press conference is expected to take place later this morning. Here in the studio is Dr. Randy Ploore, a professor of biomedical science at UMM."

 Carrie cradled her coffee cup and walked towards the small flatscreen on the counter. "More coffee." Brad barked.

 "Sure." she said as she grabbed the coffee pot and returned to the table. After filling his cup she returned the empty pot to the coffee maker and started to watch the news again.

 "Did you hear me?" She hadn't but she weakly nodded and turned off the TV.

 "Good. You stay in this f*****g house. I better not find out that Jodi was over here. I can take break whenever I want and be home in 10 minutes." he reminded her.

 When Brad finished his lecture he plucked the car keys from the counter and left. Carrie promptly phoned Jodi and packed her belongings.

 Her parents initially protested her moving back until Carrie broke down. "It's bad, Daddy!" she wailed "He's not a good man! Something is wrong with him!"

 Her father had brooded before heading off to work but her mother remained silent for the most part. Then the home phone started ringing.

 The women quit counting the calls after 50 or so. During a brief pause Tammie Stetsin had picked up the phone to call the police only to be interrupted by a sudden pounding at the door. 

 Both women shrunk into the couch. Carrie was glassy eyed and terrified while Tammie just looked shocked and confused. "UPS." he mother suggested seconds before another wild barrage of pounding began. 

 "I'm so sorry!" Carrie sobbed as she clung to her mother.

 "You don't have anything to apologize for. I'm sure it's all just a misunderstanding."

 A hammering on the back door made her mother wince. "I'm going to phone your father."

 Tammie stood up and walked into the dining room to retrieve her phone. Carrie nervously glanced towards the picture window. Brad was standing outside of it smiling. "Leave me alone!" she sobbed.

 Brad picked up a cedar adironack  chair and hurled it into the window. The glass shattered inwards and both women screamed. Carrie could hear her mother on the phone babbling in a panicked voice. Brad was using a piece of firewood to clear the remaining glass from the window. 

 "I'm calling the police!" Tammie yelled from the other room.

 Brad smiled and continued clearing the glass. Carrie met his gaze and he was smiling crookedly. Then she bolted. Running down the hall she plunged into her father's office. Rummaging through his desk she found the gun safe keys and shakily opened the door. Carrie grabbed her Benelli over and under shotgun and slid two shells into the barrels. Turning around she ran back down the hall just in time to see Brad climbing through the window.

 "Get out, Brad." she whispered.

 Despite Tammie's wailing Brad heard her. "You're coming with me you f*****g b***h!"

 Carrie pulled the trigger and a softball sized hole appeared in Brad's upper thigh. He silently fell out of the window and disappeared from sight. Tammie's screaming amplified and Carrie became oddly calm.

 Approaching the window the window Brad came into view. The man was rolling in some ornamental bushes while grasping his thigh. She shouldered the weapon and took aim.

 "The phone is dead, Carrie!" Tammie moaned "I was talking to your father and it just died!"

 "Try the landline."

 Her mother clawed at the cordless and started punching buttons. She put the phone to her ear and grimaced. "It's dead too!" the older woman sobbed.

 Carrie was watching Brad. He had gotten to his feet and was staggering across the lawn. Then she remembered he kept a pistol in his truck. "Get in your room, Momma."

 Tammie paled and quickly retreated down the hall. Carrie returned to the office, ejected the spent cartridge and reloaded the trap shotgun. She slammed the action shut and padded towards the front door. Looking through the small window she could see him crawling into the passenger door. After fumbling for a moment he tumbled out of the cab leaking blood onto the snow while cocking the weapon with a bloody claw and a strange smile. As he crossed the driveway her father's Subaru came into view. 

 Robert Stetsin hit the young man at roughly 50 miles per our. Brad cartwheeled over the vehicle and landed in the neighbor's front yard. The Subaru collided with the truck and died after a few chugs and squeals. A cloud of steam shielded her view of the windshield.

 "Daddy!" she screamed; dropping the weapon and running out the front door.

 Robert emerged from the vehicle. He had a bloody blue sport coat wrapped around his arm and a gash above his eyebrow dribbled blood. "They're coming, Carrie. Oh my God they're coming and it's terrible."

 She helped him into the house and he collapsed in the foyer. Tammie screamed and slid onto the floor next to her husband. "Let me look at your arm, Robert." she said soothingly.

 When she removed the bandage a fountain of blood erupted and splattered her forearms. "Oh, Robert."

 Carrie ran to the bathroom and pulled an armful of towels off the shelf. She returned to the foyer and begin wrapping them around Robert's injured arm.

 "You have to leave now. It's terrible." he pleaded "The police aren't even helping. They're all gone."

 "Brad is here, Robert! He smashed the window! He won't go away!" Tammie shrieked.

 "Don't worry about Brad. Worry about what's coming. You need to leave now, girls."

 "We're not going anywhere, Daddy." Carrie assured him.

 "You don't know what it's like. People are going crazy. They're looting, rioting, killing each other. Something is wrong. You need to get your gun and all the ammo you can carry. Go to your uncle's house. Take your mother's car."

 Carrie started shaking her head. "Gather your things and go!" Robert yelled.

 He was starting to pale and his eyes were glazing over. Tammie sobbed and pressed her face into his shoulder; oblivious of the blood. "Bring me my gun." he rasped "The pistol…this arm is ruined."

 Carrie scurried back to the office. In the bottom drawer of the gun safe she found an oilskin hunting bag. She filled it with boxes of birdshot and turkey loads. Scanning the guns she selected a Weatherby PA-459. A camouflaged turkey gun with a holographic site and a pistol grip. After loading the heavy weapon she shouldered the bag and continued digging in the safe.

 After a moment she found her father's Smith and Wesson .38 revolver. She opened the cylinder, assuring it was loaded, then ran back to the foyer. "Here, Daddy. It's loaded!"

 Robert was unconscious. "Is he okay, Momma?" Carrie asked.

 "Go to your Uncle's, Carrie! Go!" 

 "Take the pistol, Momma. Here."

 Carrie handed her mother the revolver but the sobbing woman ignored it. She placed it on her father's lap and the woman quietly started sobbing.

 "Come with me, Momma." Carrie pleaded.

 "Just go." the woman choked.

 Carried stood up and without looking back left the house. 

Author's Note

Please rate and review. Thank you for taking the time to read this.