The FALL - The Final Part

The FALL

Final Part

And then that last image replayed itself again.  Clarice hadn’t moved to catch me nor had she acted surprised as I crashed into the water.  And then I remembered.  Randall’s other hand had been cupping my wife’s fanny.  My best friend, the man who I entrusted with so many pieces of my life, was holding firmly and decidedly onto my wife’s rear end.

Clarice, my loving wife, held something in her hand.  What was that in my wife’s hand?  The image within my head focused on something white which her hand wrapped around, like a ball, its whiteness marred by a fresh mark of redness which marked its round image. It was the cue ball from the pool table on one of the lower decks of my yacht.  We had spent hours playing pool as my yacht wandered the world, Randall would often play pool till late at night with Clarice while I slept.  Or if I was getting ready for a webcast from my office on the yacht I would often here the two of them banging away at the balls on the deck below mine. But looking at the image now I knew instantly what the red substance was, it was my blood. 

The whiteness of the ball intensified, hiding the blood.  The whiteness turned into a bright light, I could feel myself fading.  My arms and legs moved automatically, trying to get to that light, my instincts the only thing giving power to my limbs.  I knew what that light represented; the freedom from the betrayal that I felt in my heart.  It would be a warm embrace, welcoming and refreshing for the betrayal that I felt in my heart. 

She had hit me on the head.  How could she have done that?   She had tried to kill me, and now she would succeed. My wife and best friend had betrayed me and now I was doomed and free.   Doomed because I was a dead man, but free of her and Randall’s treacherous behavior.  Free to live in Heaven, away from the evil that had penetrated my house.  My poor mother, she was right.  It was true, mothers were always right.

My hand reached out for the light.  With my last bit of strength I reached out towards the light, embracing the freedom and doom.  I felt the Angel of Death grab my hand and pull me towards the light.  I was finally going to be released from this prison.

My head crested above the surface of the water. I took in a breath of fresh air, and began to cough.

“I got him, Detective,” a voice said as I felt strong male hands grab me from under my arms. “He’ll live.”  With a sudden pull I was yanked from the water, coughing and hacking up my insides.  I was on my knees and palms, water cascading down from my body as I began to feel the hot summer sun shine down on me.  And life. 

But what life would it be without Clarice, and knowing that the two people I trusted the most had betrayed me and almost gotten away for it.  Looking around I could see the nearby piers stretching back towards the land.  My yacht had docked the night before, snugged in behind some of the large cruisers along Miami Harbor.    The Passport Office sat higher than the rest of the piers, surround by the palm trees decorating the dock areas.   Behind me West Island Park blocked the horizon, giving me a view of the park.  My yacht sat on the edge of the pier, the perfect spot for me to be dumped into the water.  The bulk of the yacht hid their plotted murder scene from the shore and the lack of traffic during this early in the day prevented any possible witnesses.

“How?” I struggled to get out as I continued to cough and hack at the water still within me.  “How did you know?”  More coughing caused me to spit.

“Seems your mama must have heard them talking about it,”  The one officer said as he put the handcuffs onto Clarice.  “Seems this one has some type of liking to talking dirty on the phone and left a rather detailed message on your mama’s answering machine when she butt called her yesterday.” 

“Yeah,” said a third officer as he handcuffed Randall.  “They were doing A LOT of talking,”  the officer winked.  “If you know what I mean?” 

“Can it rockie.” The first officer said. “Seems it was a turn on to off ya,” the first officer said as he patted me on my back. “Sorry buddy, but at least your mama reached out to us and somebody down at the station finally believed her.”

“More like they got tired of her screaming and threatening them over the phone,”  the officer who had handcuffed Clarice said. 

“Nothing worse than an irate mom,” The first officer said as he helped me to sit along the lounge chair on the forward deck.  “She said she would do things to the Desk Sargent that I haven’t heard a longshoreman say to his worst enemy.”