The Mistress (Flash Fiction Piece)

 

Beverly Hills: 1949

 

A sleek and devilish machine it was. Bright red, just like the color of Evelyn Harper’s large plump lips as they pulled into a smile. She threw her arms up towards the sky feeling the breeze softly graze the tips of her fingers. There was nothing more she desired than to grab hold of the wind.

Flying.

            No, it was more like gliding. 

            A feeling of weightlessness and release as her body connected with the clouds. This is what it felt like to sit next to Tom in his brand new Bel Air. She looked over at him as he sat low in his seat, one arm draped loosely over the steering wheel, the other wrapped around her waist. Giggling, she placed a cigarette in –between his lips and flicked the lighter open. She watched the flame reflect back to her in his wayfarers as she lifted it towards the tip. Tom took hold of the cigarette momentarily removing his hand from the wheel. Evelyn gasped with pleasure at the danger it presented.

The car slowed down as they approached town, then eased to a stop in front of a red light.  Evelyn noticed as Tom’s jaw clenched and his hold on her lessened.

“What’s wrong?” She asked drawing small circles on his arm.

“I think it’s time to take you home…”

Evelyn let go of Tom and slumped into the seat of the car. She put one hand to her head to adjust her sunhat, and let out a long sigh.

When they pulled up to Evelyn’s house, she slowly slipped her wedding band back onto her ring finger. She stared down at it, sighed, and then looked up at the tall iron gates that guarded her front lawn.

Something was different…

Clark’s car was sitting in the driveway.

“Dammit,” she exclaimed scrambling out of the Bel Air.

She signaled Tom to get away from the front of the house.

“No kiss?” He asked leaning towards her.

“If you don’t get out of here you’ll be kissing my ass goodbye.” She waved him away again, and he put the car in gear gunning it down the street.

Evelyn clasped onto the iron gate and pulled it open. She crept up to the heavy scarlet colored front door. Her hands shook as she fumbled around trying to get her keys into the lock. Taking in one long deep breath, she entered her home.

“Clark?” She called out as it echoed across the foyer.

Closing the door she noticed something leaning on the wall next to the door. It was an ax. It casually sat there its butt towards the ceiling and the tip of the blade touching the hardwood floor. Scattered on the floor were tiny wood chips.

That little bugger of a tree. Evelyn thought. The neighbors insisted that Clark chop it down.

            “Clark?” She repeated sliding the sunhat off her head as she climbed their wooden staircase.

There was movement coming from behind their bedroom door.

“Honey?”

The doorknob turned.

Clark appeared throwing a shirt over his bare chest. His hands tremored as he tucked the shirt into his dress pants.

“I didn’t expect you to be back from shopping.”

“I didn’t expect you to be back either.”

“How was your day?”

“Good.”

“Yours?”

“It was fine.”

“That’s good.”

He picked up his hat from the floor and placed it on his head.

“You’re leaving?”

“Came back to change…spilled a little coffee on my shirt.”

Evelyn headed towards the bedroom, but Clark caught her arm. She turned towards him.

“Why don’t you go ahead and get started on dinner. It won’t be long before I’ll be back.”

Clark shut the door and they walked downstairs together.

Evelyn headed into the kitchen as she heard Clark’s car start up in the driveway. She placed a saucepan on the stove and began to chop up vegetables. She carefully diced up the tomatoes and the onions just the way Clark liked them.

She heard a faint step on the stairwell.

She paused and listened.

She heard another step.

Her hand clutched the chopping knife tighter, but she continued with her work. Then a dragging sound emerged, it sounded like something heavy being tugged across the floor…a wooden floor.

“I thought you left…” She said creeping around the corner.

Paralysis came over Evelyn’s body.

In the living room stood a woman wearing black lingerie and a floor-length silk robe. Her long red curls cascaded down her back and chest. In her hands she gripped the ax, but the heavy weight of the blade hung towards the ground causing her stance to be thrown forwards.  A short cigarette burned between her lips. The woman reached for the cigarette and slowly lifted her head back blowing a ring of smoke towards the ceiling. The ember reflected into Evelyn’s eyes as the woman staggered closer.

“It’s time to clip those wings of yours…”

 

 

 

           

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