Chapter Seven

“Mrs. Spilling,” Rosa repeated after a moment. Trisha hadn’t said anything and just stared at her in shock.

            “Amelia is asleep and it is late.” She explained quickly. Her sharp accent coupled with her quick speech made her hard to understand. Trisha’s mind was reeling and it took another elongated moment for Rosa’s words to break through the haze. Trisha cleared her throat and tried to sound as calm as she possibly could.

            “Of course Rosa,” She smiled. “I am so sorry we took so long. Please go on home and get some rest.” Her voice came out high pitched and she cleared her throat to try to loosen the knot that seemed to have buried attached itself in her wind pipe.

            Trisha looked at her and nodded. She began to turn away from the kitchen and head for the front door. Trisha let out a great sigh of relief. Rosa turned back around as something caught her eye.

            “Mr. Spilling is okay?” She said in broken English as she looked around Trisha to where James sat unmoving. Without thinking Trisha took a step to the right to partially block Rosa’s view. She felt perspiration beading out on her forehead. What had she done and gotten herself into. Prison was not going to be good to her and what about Emmy? Trisha’s family was either dead or unfit to take care of a pet dog let alone a child. James had no living family. His parents both died right before he started college. He used his inheritance to get through college and to start his own firm.

            “Like I said Rosa,” She stammered. “I am sorry we took so long. We sat and talked for hours until James finally fell asleep where he sat, the poor dear.” Trisha chuckled. The laugh sounded foreign in her ears. Rosa either didn’t catch the panic in her voice or didn’t understand what she said enough to not trust the words. She clasped her hand tighter around her purse and took a few steps into the kitchen.

            “I make coffee.” She said in sure words. “Too much alcohol make my marido sleep too.” She explained.

            “Coffee always wake him up.” She said to Trisha as she walked into the kitchen area.

            “No!” Trisha shouted in a panic stricken voice. She felt the beads of sweat rolling off of her forehead and into her eyes. The salt filled droplets began to sting her eyes. Rosa stopped in mid stride to look at her with a wide look on her face. She looked like a dear that had just saw the hunter right before the trigger was pulled.

            “I mean,” Trisha said in a soft voice as she cleared her throat one more time.

            “It’s late Rosa, you have done enough tonight.” Trisha spoke softly across the room.

            “It was your day off and you came in anyway.” She explained, “Go home and sleep.”

            As if by some immigrant worker’s code of conduct they always knew when they should and should not argue with their employer. Without another word she briskly nodded her head and turned on her heels to walk out of the kitchen. Trisha stood frozen from her place in the kitchen until she heard the front door softly click closed from the foyer.

            Letting out a shaky breath Trisha turned back around to look at James. As thunder rolled outside a flash of lightning light up the room. The bright light silhouetting James slouched in his chair before her. He wasn’t a large man but he easily out weighed her by sixty pounds or more. Moving his dead weight was going to be a monumental task.

            With a determined look on her face she quickly walked over to James. As she stood over him she mentally wished that she had thought about how in the hell she was going to move his weight before she had come this far. Experimentally she grabbed a hold of the back of his chair and with both hands pulled in out from the edge of the table. His weight shifted enough for her to be able to accomplish the task rather easily.

            With slightly higher hopes she began to pivot the chair to enable her to get him off of the chair. With a grinding sound of wood on tile front legs caught on the floor and the chair dipped forwards. Before Trisha had time to react James careened forwards and off of his chair.

            With a loud thump his body collided with the floor. For a moment Trisha stood frozen still holding onto the back of the chair staring down at James. His face was down and hidden from her view his arms splayed out behind him. He landed on his knees and the combination left him comically laid onto the floor on his stomach with his backside sticking out in the air like a child waiting to get his bottom powdered.

            As the Panic rose in her she clasped her hands over her mouth. Laughter forced its way up her throat. If her consciousness had tried to save her soul by killing James peacefully she had now damned herself to a fiery grave for laughing at the body of her deceased husband.

            Choking back her giggles she stumbled in front of James to grab a hold of his shoulders. Another crack of lightning lit up the room. She leaned back on her heels and forced every ounce of her body weight into pulling him backwards. For a few moments his body did not move. She felt like she would rip him in half before he finally became unstuck from the tile and momentum helped her propel James towards the patio door that led to the backyard. After about ten minutes of pulling, grunting, tugging and with sweat dripping down her shoulder blades Trisha finally managed to get to the patio door.

            She stood up and felt her back creak from having to bend over for so long. With a heaving breath she swung open the door to outside. A cool breeze swept its way into the room and the sound of rain drops swam around her. As she inhaled deeply to try and catch her breath she smelled the sweet scent of summer grass and night air.

            Tasting the cool night air revived her enough to continue. With one last huff she grabbed James under the arm pits and dragged him over the threshold.

 

 

Reviews

[KAOlmsted]

"the knot that seemed to have buried attached itself in her wind pipe."
--again with the seemed. And knots neither bury nor attach...maybe her windpipe is tied in a knot?

"Trisha looked at her and nodded"
--I think you meant Rosa here.

"What had she done and gotten herself into. Prison was not going to be good to her and what about Emmy?"
--she's just thinking about this NOW? What about her brilliant plan?

"Rosa either didn’t catch the panic in her voice or didn’t understand what she said enough to not trust the words."
--see, now that's good, but it needs to be in a new paragraph.

"She felt the beads of sweat rolling off of her forehead and into her eyes. The salt filled droplets began to sting her eyes."
--she's sweating that much? Meanwhile, that's not my point. *laugh* You could shorten this up and skip some redundancy by saying 'She felt the beads of sweat roll off her forehead and the drops stung her eyes.' Or something like that. *shrug*

"a wide look on her face"
--what the hecks is a wide look? And this needs to be a new paragraph. (And its a deer, not a dear, although the deer could be a dear.) *grin* (I'm tired *laugh* can you tell??)

"As if by some immigrant worker’s code of conduct they always knew when they should and should not argue with their employer."
--holy f*****g offensive dude. *laughlaughlaugh* You've got balls for days writing that!

"As thunder rolled outside a flash of lightning light up the room. The bright light silhouetting James slouched in his chair before her."
--try 'Thunder rolled and a flash of lightning lit up the room, silhouetting James' slouched form in the chair before her.' Make it flow.

"As she stood over him she mentally wished that she had thought about how in the hell she was going to move his weight before she had come this far."
--you made a point of telling us she was moving on to the next phase of her plan after James was dead, which led us to believe she was working within a plan. There is no plan, is there. She's flying by the seat of her pants. If she doesn't get caught, I will have zero respect for whatever detectives you bring in to investigate this death/disappearance (whichever you end up doing) She should have had a better plan.

"As the Panic rose"
--damn shift key

"damned herself to a fiery grave"
--the graves are seldom set on fire...I'm just saying. *grin*

Oh my God, T...please tell me she is not going to bury him in a shallow grave out in the backyard where her little girl plays.

I need to reflect on this. I can't even look at you right now. *LAUGHLAUGHLAUGH* I'll see you tomorrow, girl.

Maybe. :-p

your friend (even though Trisha is making me crazy right now),
-kimmer

[Tabitha t]

I have my work cut out for me! Lol as far as the backyard burial remark. All I shall say is your are half way there but not as close as you think. :)

[Craig2591]

"loosen the knot that seemed to have buried attached itself in her wind pipe" sounds a little clumsy. Either get rid of 'buried' or 'attached'.

"to look at her with a wide look on her face". Did you mean 'wide-eyed'?

I like that you had her laugh at the absurdity of her situation. It makes the story more realistic.

[T. Logan]

I haven't read this until you sent me the requests, but i really like it.

[Tabitha t]

thank you. I am having a blast watching the story play out