Page 56 of Unhinged Cain

An art easel was set up by the large window that would look out toward the backyard and the park across the street. Thumbing through the assortment of paintings and sketches, I pulled out one that caught my eye. It was a self-portrait of Kirby sitting among a field of purple flowers, but she wasn’t laughing or smiling as you’d think. Instead, her knees were drawn up to her chest, her cheek laying upon her knees, and a loose braid of her hair fell across her shoulder, but her eyes were breathtaking. The tears sliding down her cheeks were very telling.

I set the piece aside and grabbed the small box of paints and the large sketch pad. Rifling through her dresser, I pulled out a few more items, including a lacy purple underwear set and a diary that was tucked in the far corner of the drawer. A stuffed bear was on the dresser with a ribbon around its neck and a simple frame of Kirby in a graduation outfit with the man from her phone contacts. It was her father. Both the bear and the picture got shoved into the bag that was starting to groan.

The lights of a car flashed against the wall, telling me that Margaret was home. Pulling out Kirby’s phone, I remotely armed the home and placed the bag and painting inside the closet before making my way to the doorway to listen. As soon as the front door opened, the hallway light upstairs turned on, and I knew Margaret wasn’t alone. The sound of a male voice echoed up the stairs, and I smirked. It was Peter.

“Well, well, well, what do we have going on here,” I mumbled as I listened to them talk.

The alarm was turned off, and the sounds traveling up the stairs were no longer of them talking. Long shadows of two people kissing could be seen as they moved close to the stairs, and I backed away from the open door and the light as I shrank into the shadows.

Making my way over to the closet, I stepped inside and closed the door with a soft click. The door luckily had wooden slats, making them perfect for watching. The thump against the wall told me they were close to the room, and then the shadow that fell across the threshold gave me the full picture. The two were wrapped around one another like two octopuses going at it. Legs and arms were entangled as they groped at one another. Clothes littered the floor as they stumbled into the room like a pair of horny teens.

Margaret backed up to Kirby’s bed and stopped as the couple came up for air.

“Why are we in here?” Peter said as he looked around the room.

The audible swallow he made as he focused on the portrait of Kirby on the wall could be heard from where I was standing. Aw, his manhood just shrank up, and he ran out of the room screaming. The corner of my mouth curled up with the imagery.

“It’s just a bedroom, Peter.”

“No, this is Kirby’s room,” Peter said, and I rolled my eyes, wanting to hand him a Captain Obvious sign to wear.

“So what? Does it look like she’s around? Besides, she broke up with you and took off without a word to either of us. Wouldn’t it be fun to have sex in her bed as a ‘fuck you’ to her?”

I shook my head in bewilderment, but I wasn’t much for turning down a perfect opportunity to get dirt on someone. This moment was what I’d call ‘aces.’ Pulling up the camera on the phone, I held it up to the open, narrow slat and hit record.

As more clothing was torn off and distributed haphazardly around the room, I had a strong urge to call out pointers. The odd snorting grunts Peter made and the braying-like yells Margaret bellowed out made it feel like I was in some warped version of a petting zoo. The only thing missing was the dispensers of food to toss to them. Thankfully, the sex barely lasted ten minutes before they collapsed on the bed, and after another ten, they passed out, snoring.

Well, that was sad.

If this was the vanilla bullshit Kirby had been subjected to, then the shit I planned on doing was going to blow her mind.

Grabbing the items I’d come for, I cracked the closet door and watched for any sign of movement. When no one stirred, I pushed the door open and stepped out, closing it behind me. Standing near the bed, I stared down at the two faces that had just handed me a powder keg full of information. I was tempted to end the game now by finding a knife and slitting their throats. My hand itched at that delicious thought. It was the same way I’d planned to kill my parents, but I was forced to miss out.

Snapping a few photos, I turned and meandered my way out of the house toward the backyard and the way I’d arrived. Leaping over the fence, I landed softly and strolled along like it was a beautiful Sunday afternoon. The hat I was wearing was pulled low, and the hoodie over it concealed my face from almost everyone or anything. The fleabag mutt hadn’t gone far and picked up the leash from the grass a few backyards down from Margaret’s.

“Couldn’t figure out which way to go?” I said to the dog. Of course, there was no response, but the dog’s head twisted while he listened. “Today is your lucky day.”

I began to walk, and the dog stood to trot along beside me.

A smile pulled at the corner of my mouth. The world certainly worked in mysterious ways, and if I believed in God, which I didn’t, I would say he had one sick sense of humor and was enjoying the drama of the reality television show he’d created.

CAIN

As one day blended into the next, I realized that Kirby had come to a standstill with her development. She was still giving me heated stars, but she was steadfast in her decision to keep me at arm’s length. This annoyed me and fascinated me, which led me to this moment.

Walking into the workroom, Kirby looked up from where she was sitting cross-legged on the foam. There was very little fear when her eyes found me, but I could see the withdrawal in her eyes. She was folding into herself when I wanted her to come out.

“Hi,” I said, and Kirby looked from side to side.

“Um…Hi.”

“I brought you this.” Holding out the hot coffee that was her favorite from Mode.

I told the owner Jorge that Kirby was away visiting her sick father and asked me to go in to make her apologies for leaving without saying a word. He then offered up her favorite coffee to me like that would make me feel better. I wasn’t sure how that was supposed to make me feel better, but it did spark this situation.

“You got me coffee?”

“Yes, apparently, it’s your favorite. Jorge made it specifically for you.”