1952

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

This story may or may not be about 1952.
(It's not but it sure as hell takes place in 1952.)

He exits his car and opens the door to his home. His day at the office is over. He is greeted by his son and they sit on the coach speaking of their day, exactly the same as every other day before it. The two sit down at the dinner table, his daughter and wife have prepared the table and the meal. He serves out the food first to his wife, then his daughter, his son, and then himself. They share pleasant unemotional conversation as they go through their meal.

“How was your day at the office honey?” Asks his wife.

“About the same as always I suppose. It was busy as always but all's swell at the end of the day.” He flashes a smile to his wife. He's a liar. “How was your day?” He returns the question to his wife.

“Just wonderful, everything went better than I thought, even when I thought it was out of control.”

“That's good. What about you kids? How was your day?”

“Well it was just swell Pa.” His son answers first. “Me and some friends went to the soda shop after school it was swell.”

“You finished all your homework right son?” His mother inquires.

“Of course I did mom.”

“What about you Molly?”

She does not respond.

“Molly?”

She suddenly becomes aware of her fathers voice.

“Sorry I, this food is just so good mother.”

“Thank you.”

“It was nice, school was fun. Susan and I listened to some records at her home after school.”

“Sounds like we all had nice days.” The household's head smiles. Yes he did have a good day.

 

James' Day:

“Of course boss I'll be sure to get started on it first thing tomorrow morning. See you tomorrow.” He waves goodbye and then gets into his car. He closes the door. “Asshole.”

James turns the key. Can he really do this again? Should he? So strong his desire, it's been weeks since he was last there. He has the materials in the trunk. He starts to drive along. He has two hours more than enough time, even for just a little of that guilty pleasure. He wants to stop more than anything, he wonders why he can't, he'd made it so far too.

He pulls into the familiar hotel. He places his black work briefcase in his trunk and grabs the tan one containing his secrets. Three floors up this time, it doesn't really matter, as long as he can be alone for just a bit.

“Oh god. Fuck fuck dammit!”

He throws the briefcase onto the bed and briskly walks to the curtains closing the fully. Off with work coat, off with his shirt, the shoes, slacks, underwear. He stands before the suitcase staring at it. He folds his hand and places them under his nose. His breathing grows heavier.

“Why James? Why? Are you really going to do this again? You'll never be done will you?”

He reaches for the suitcase and clicks it open it springs up a bit. As he begins to open it all the way a word pops into his mind “purge” and then another word “no”. He places the contents on the bed one item at a time. Panties, stockings, red dress, bra, black high heels, a nice red sunhat matching the dress, a bag of make up, a purse, and a wig to top it all off.

He slips his left leg through the feminine undergarment and then the right leg. Next he puts on the stockings slipping smoothly up to his thighs. He fiddles with the bra a bit then retreats to the bathroom to stuff it with toilet paper. Next he dons the dress, it flows around his ankles and makes him feel giddy and wonderful inside. He puts on the wig next and works on his make up, light red lipstick and a little blush. He straps on the heels and finally puts on the sunhat before leaving the room. He walks down the hall a bit and then turns back, nearly runs to the room. How could he forget to switch watches? That would be a dead give away. He switches to a more feminine looking timepiece then continues on his way.

He's careful not to let his skirt catch in the door as he gets in his car. He drives around some to the old familiar bar, they know her there. He parks, closes his eyes and inhales deeply multiple times.

“Jasmine!” She's greeted by Pete the Barkeep. “It's been a while! How you doin?”

“I'm good thanks for asking.” He bats a smile. “My usual martini please.”

“No problem coming right up.”

He grasps the glass and drinks.

“How's the family?”

“Good good, very good. My husband just a got a promotion.”

“That's wonderful good for him.”

“Agreed.” Another sip.

“I don't know if George'll be by or not, he'd sure be glad to see ya though.”

“It'd be nice to see him too. I'm in a hurry though.”

“You always are Jas.”

He laughs. “Yes I suppose I am.”

George enters the bar. “What's up Pete?” He says.

James is terrified to know he must now stay longer, Jasmine is excited having missed her friend.

“Well Jasmine, long time no see.”

“It has been sometime has it not.” He begins to drink the martini a tad faster.

“Beer Pete, thanks. So how's life treating ya?”

“Good, my husband got a promotion.”

“Well ain't that swell. Good for him.”

“Yes, we're all quite happy.”

He drinks faster now, perspiration spreading rapidly, he doesn't have much time but finally manages to excuse her leave. Jasmine sadly leaves to friends; James happily leaves a stranger and his boss.

No one was ever supposed to run in heels especially not up stairs but he's low and time and he needs to get home to his wife. Down the hall. He fiddles till he finds the key hidden in his bra, bits of toilet paper falling to the floor. He strips of the hat and dress and wig, the shoes are sent into flight, toilet paper flushed and wardrobe completely switched. He turns the handle. “Shit!” He yells nearly forgot something again. He dashes back to the bathroom and quickly smears off his makeup splashing some water on his face and then drying it.

He sprints down the stairs returns the key and starts the car. He breaths deeply more calm now. He has just enough time, everything is fine. The watch! He forgot to switch watches again, how could he be so stupid? When he hits the next red light he replaces the watch. “Damn.” He says under his breath.

 

Patricia's Day:

 

They're all gone, just like all the other days. She's left alone to do all the work around the house. What a bore. Cook dinner, clean the table, wash the dishes, do the laundry, dust the house, clean the bathroom, grab revolver, start car.

No no no dammit! She swore to herself never again! She wasn't going to ever do this again! It was too risky! She had a nice life a loving family! She didn't need to do this! And yet she was compelled so strongly, after so long, it was the only thing that meant anything, that rush, she was wrong, she did need to do this.

She finds the apartment complex. He should be home right now. He should be watching tv, just like the last few times she was here. She puts the gun into her purse and gets out of the car. She walks down the sidewalk and flashes bright smiles at passersby until she reached apartment B5. She removes the bobby pin and fiddles with the handle. With a few minutes and a few expert moves it gives and she walks in. She treads carefully and peaks around the corner. He's watching tv, just like she expected.

“Band-Aid Plastic Strips with new Super Stick stick better than any other bandage.” The tv says. “Made only by Johnson&Johnson the most trusted name in surgical dressings. Be sure you get-”

BANG!

She puts the firearm back in her purse before taking of her high heels and running as fast as she can back to the car. She turns the key and it sputters. She turns it again. The car kicks in and she peels out.

In minutes she's back at her house. Once inside she scans the gun for blood; it's clean. She removes the empty shell and puts in a new bullet before placing it back in the safe. She removes all the clothes she wore during the murder and puts them in the washing machine followed up with lots and lots of Tide. She puts on a new set of clothes and goes out to her car.

Clean clean clean, blood, clean, blood, blood, lot's of blood, clean, clean, clean.

Back inside she grabs a some bleach, gloves, and a sponge. She returns to the car and gets to work.

 

Michael's Day:

 

Any second now school will let loose. Just a few minutes to go. Just a few seconds, thirty seconds, twenty, ten, five, four, three, two, one. The bell rings and he gets up quickly. He heads straight out the front door and walks as fast as he can't without jogging down to the soda shop. His heart a flutter he can't wait to see Charles, he saw him for a bit at school but that was just passing in the hall.

Michael orders his beverage and sits down waiting on Charles. He doesn't wait long, Charles gets a similar drink and sits across from him.

“Hey.” Michael's smile can be both seen and heard.

“Miss me did you?”
“I always miss you.”

“Yeah.”

“What you don't miss me?”

“I just don't like to be so vocal in public like this.”

Michael sighs. “Yeah, I know.”

“Anything shitty happen today?” Charles asks.

“No it was pretty good actually.”

“Well good glad to here it.” He takes a sip, then a large gulp.

“Whoa down, wanna make this last right?”

“Finish it quick.”

Michael does as his boyfriend asks and finishes his ice cream soda as fast as his throat will allow. About two minutes. The two leave and drive off in Charles' car.

“Where are we going?” Michael asks.

“It's a surprise.”

“Okay just, just don't take too long okay? I can't risk being late, don't want my folks knowing somethings is up.”

Charles grabs his hand. They hit a red light with no one around. He brings his hand up and kisses it.

“Don't worry, I won't let anything bad happen to you. I promise.”

Michael smiles, blushing a bit. “Okay. I trust you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The drive continues in silence and before long the two are before a small pond.

“Wow, it's great.” Says Michael.

“Yeah, I thought you would like it.”

“It's pretty.”

“Best part no one ever comes here.”

Charles leans towards Michael and Michael towards him. Their lips meet and both are encapsulated in bliss. When they detach the breath heavy and fast looking into each others eyes.

“It was perfect.” Michael says.

“You said you wanted our first kiss to be, I made sure it was.”

“You did well.”

“Wanna walk around.”
“Yes let's.”

For sometime they trod around the edge of the water the image of their hand holding reflected in the water and they talk and smile and laugh. At length Michael glances at his watch.

“Oh shit!”

Charles looks at his own watch. “Fuck! I'm so sorry! Shit!”

“Quick I gotta get home!”

“I'm sorry!”

“Forget about it just get me home okay!

Open door, sit down, buckle seat belt, back up, turn around, floor it!

 

Molly's Day:

She looks at the clock, then at her desk, and back to the clock. “Come on you fucking piece of shit get the fuck on already dammit!” She thinks holding back the urge to scream it.

The bell finally rings and she dashes up and out.

“Hey Molly-” Thomas will never get a date with Molly no matter how hard he tries.

“Fuck off!”

“Mo-Mo-Molly?” But she's gone and doesn't hear him.

She gets outside and paces back and forth by Susan's car.

“Come on you bitch, come on you bitch.” She repeats to herself again and again under her breath.

“Molly calm down.”

“Bout fucking time! Hurry up!”

“Okay okay! No need for such a rush.”

The two get in and Susan drives them towards her house.

“How long till your mom gets back from shopping?”

“I don't know, an hour? Less?”

“Are you sure she's even shopping?”

“I stopped by a payphone before leaving, no one answered.”

“Well speed it up goddammit.”

“Okay okay, sheesh.”

The two rip through Susan's underwear drawer until they find the little plastic baggy with white powder.

“I'll go get one of my dad's razors.”

“Okay.” Molly replies.

It's getting harder to go without this, and the time it takes for her to feel the urge is getting shorter. But why should anything else matter? Nothing else matters, never mattered, never will matter, it's irrelevant because she needs it, to function, and to function without is growing more and more strenuous and tiresome. She doesn't have it in her, maybe she never really did.

She needs to quit and she knows it, maybe she even wants to, but she can't quit and she knows that too.

“Alright let's go.” Susan says reentering with the blade.

Chop chop chop, Snort. Molly sits back and waits for it to kick in. Susan snorts and sits by her friend.

In a few seconds everything is suddenly wonderful. She can finally think clearly, and quickly, and about something other than her next hit. The thoughts rush through her skull, she knows how and when she'll get away from this all, and quitting, she can do it, this is her last hit, she said it last time, but this time, this time she means it. All is right with the world and everything is simply great.

Sometimes when the dopamine blasts right Molly has been know to smile wide, and for the first time all day she does.

 

And so they sit there at the table with the same thought. “If they knew, they wouldn't love me anymore.”

 

 

Update 7/22/2013:

So I was thinking about this story and looking back at it I was reasonably satisfied with it except for Molly's bit so I decided to make it longer.


Submitted: June 29, 2013

© Copyright 2022 Akisute. All rights reserved.

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