The Things I Do for Love
Andy hopped on the 215 and plonked himself in the nearest window seat. The multi-coloured lights outside shone through the rain streaks on the glass, making pleasing twinkles that calmed and relaxed him.
The office was hectic that day but the bus was quiet. The journey wasn’t a long one, and Andy was enjoying the peace. Sam was probably back from work. Maybe she was setting up dinner. The word dinner set off a whine in the pit of his stomach that ended in a low groan. She’d probably only make a salad or something light, not when her big dinner was in a few days.
She’s so weight conscious in the winter months. Andy smiled. Sam hadn’t gained or lost a pound since they met four years before. She exercises, she doesn’t drink too much, and she eats right — with an exception of her monthly big dinner of course.
Andy shifted on his seat, giving his numb buttocks some relief. He, on the other hand, was a big fatty. Big arse, flabby arms, and the beginnings of an old man jowl, despite him not being technically middle aged yet. But, compared to his gorgeous Samantha, anyone would look like crap, he smiled internally.
The bus slowed and sidled into the stop. A woman fought to drag a pram ladled with shopping bags up the steps. Andy made a move to get up, but was beaten to it by a younger, more able man, who helped the woman onto the bus. The worn out mother gave Andy a small smile before crashing onto a seat parallel to him, keeping one hand on the handle of the pram.
The bus started up again, and the shopping bags swung in harmony with the curvatures of the road as it re-joined the slow traffic. Andy watched the tiny infant in the pram, memorized by the colourful mobile hanging above its head. Andy and Sam had never spoken about having children of their own. They were unsure she could even conceive, given her unique diet. But they were happy, just the two of them, they supported each other, and they would do anything for each other. Andy smiled wistfully and looked out through the window at the rain as it started to lash down harder. He would die for her. He would kill for her.
The doors wheezed open and the rain intruded as Andy stepped out, pulling his hat down to his brow. The walk home wasn’t long, but after a few moments his clothes were sopping wet. He kept his head down, and only looked up when he was at the edge of his driveway. The living room curtains closed were closed.
His eyebrows furrowed under his hat and he searched for his keys as he made his way up to the porch. His hands were cold despite being stowed away in his pockets, and he fumbled with the keyhole numbly before finding purchase.
Immediately the familiar metallic smell hit him and he sighed, already predicting what he’d find in his living room.
“Is that you babe?” Sam called out.
“Yeah, I’m just getting my jacket off!” Andy called back. He slipped his jacket off and hung it on the banister. Pulling off his hat and ruffling his thin hair, he stuck the hat into the jacket pocket. He would have left the hat out to dry but he had a feeling he’d have to venture out again soon.
Andy opened the door and greeted his girlfriend’s beautiful face with a grin. The grin quickly slid into a grimace when he saw a black cat, mangled and broken, hanging lamely in her hands.
“Sammie, what have you done?” he asked weakly.
Sam held the cat up to him, and he saw its face, contorted in terror, its bright green eyes dim in the way only death can manage. It had died in distress, and Andy knew exactly how that would look, having seen many a cat and dog tortured to death at the hands of his girlfriend.
Sam stuck her bottom lip out in that way she knew softened Andy.
“I was so hungry,” she whined gently. Andy softened of course, and sat on the arm of the sofa.
“Sammie, your big dinner isn’t until this weekend,” he said patiently. “We had a plan. We have to be careful. You know this.”
Sam played with the limp corpse; the cat’s head flopped around sickeningly. Its neck had been broken, and was stretched out like a spaghetti noodle. Andy watched it swing distastefully.
“I just couldn’t wait that long,” she said timidly.
Andy sighed and stood up. “Well it’s done now. You better put the plastic sheeting down.”
She grinned and hurried to the kitchen cupboard and pulled out the plastic sheeting. It had faint pink stains all over it. She laid it down and sat in the middle of the large sheet crossed legged like an excited child.
Andy scooped up the corpse and felt that it was still warm in its midriff, just behind the ribcage. Some of the ribs were broken, snapped inwards. He gently laid the cat in front of her, and turned away as she lifted it up and bit into its neck. He turned to go upstairs and grab the shovel. He looked back over his shoulder at his beautiful girlfriend, and she looked back at him grinning. Her teeth and chin dripped with fresh warm blood.
Andy adjusted his hat to keep the worst of the rain out of his eyes. His wellingtons did their job keeping his feet dry, but made his steps clumsy and for the third time he tripped over a large branch and landed face-first on the forest floor.
He picked up the shovel again and continued on. Andy recognized the cat from a few doors down.
They have a kid, Andy thought sadly.
No kid should have to lose a pet. At least it will look like it run away. Compared to what really happened, that was a blessing. His wellies snagged another branch and he stumbled.
The things I do for love, Andy thought as he stopped at the clearing.
He slid the backpack off his shoulders and set it down it by his feet. He scanned the ground, looking for a spot where there wasn’t another corpse buried. He found one by the overgrowth and started his monthly dig.
“Monthly work-out, more like,” he said mirthfully and let out a little chuckle to himself.
He dug long into the night, anticipating getting back to his beautiful girlfriend who was waiting at home for him.
