Authors: Christopher Leonidas
“No one knows its name. Maybe my partner can help you.”
Octa moved toward the stairs to meet the other intruder, who had heard the gunshot, ran toward the stairs, and froze when he saw the gun pointed at him from above.
He dropped his gun.
Octa pointed the gun in his direction, paused for a moment, then shot him in the right shoulder.
“Is there something you want to tell me before you die?”
“Please, don’t do it,” he said. “I got an anonymous phone call ordering us to kill you.”
Octa heard glass breaking in his bedroom. Running back inside the room, he saw the other man escaping by jumping out the window and falling on his head. Octa saw the other man running and jumping in his car. The man with the blown-apart knee crawled to the car. The driver stepped out to get him. When Octa made his way down, he found no one.
I have to do a little cleaning again,
he thought.
I need to move Lucinda out of this house for her safety, but she’s stubborn about it.
Lucinda called him and asked him to come and get her at the airport. Before he hung up, he let her know he put up Christina’s pictures on the walls, but she ordered him to take them down again. Octa had previously attempted to place their daughter’s pictures around the house, but she wouldn’t allow it. She also attempted to talk her into moving to another house, and she still turned him down.
It took four days for Bob to reach his boiling point. He was ready to have it out with Octa, but the man wasn’t even talking to him. Walking into Octa’s room one morning as he was getting ready, Bob exclaimed with frustration, “I want revenge!”
Octa didn’t react as he combed his hair. He was used to his partner’s frustrations. “Bob, I’ll kill you,” he said, looking straight into Bob’s eyes through the mirror. Ignoring Bob, who opened his mouth to speak, Octa made his way out of the room and down the stairs, hands in his pockets.
Bob was furious. He quickly followed Octa and stood at the top of the stairs, watching Octa silently goad him as he went down with his hands shoved into his pockets. He wanted to push him down so that every bone in Octa’s body would break. Deep in thought, he didn’t even notice Lucinda come out of the room.
“Good morning,” Lucinda greeted him, slightly surprised to find him standing outside her bedroom. Bob had been giving Octa and Lucinda the silent treatment for a few days now, and didn’t even bother to greet them back each morning, but it was still a habit.
“Whassup?” Bob murmured absent-mindedly as he turned to look at her. He noticed she had lines around her eyes and forehead. His cop instincts never failed to make him notice everything different about someone, even when he didn’t want to.
Pursing her lips at his reply, Lucinda walked to the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her.
I can’t believe how shameless he is. Just standing there as if he’s king of the house, eating everything out of the fridge and not even contributing anything,
Lucinda thought angrily as she locked the door.
Bob had registered the anger on Lucinda’s face. He knew she thought of him as just a freeloader, who was just there to eat their food and lounge around the house.
Conveniently, they forget that I pay them one fifty a month just so I can live with them
, Bob fumed.
Maybe I should just poison her so she doesn’t keep complaining to Octa that I don’t do anything to help them.
Shaking his head at the thought, Bob stalked off to his room
.
Soon freshened up, Lucinda made her way downstairs to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Rummaging around the cupboards for a bowl, she heard the sound of a door closing and turned as Octa walked into the kitchen.
“Good morning, sunny moon!” he said and made his way to his wife and gave her a kiss.
“Good morning. Where did you just come from?” she asked, kissing him back.
“Had to get some stuff out of the car,” Octa said as he sat down on a chair.
Lucinda nodded and turned back to her rummaging. Octa gazed at her as she found the bowl and rather firmly cracked a few eggs against its sides. He knew she had something on her mind. A few minutes later, she slammed the bowl of eggs she was whisking down on the counter and turned to Octa, who was waiting expectantly.
“We need to tell him to leave the house,” she said, keeping her voice low.
Octa’s smile disappeared. He knew this was coming.
“You heard him last time. You know his history. He even once hurt his former roommate for snitching on him.” Her gaze flickered toward the kitchen door, as if, perhaps, Bob might walk in at any moment. She knew Bob had once stolen a bag of cocaine from a drug dealer during an arrest.
Octa took a deep breath. “You don’t have to worry, love. I talked to him yesterday and told him that he has until next Monday to find a new place. After that, he won’t be our problem.”
Lucinda visibly relaxed. “I’m glad you finally talked to him.”
Octa nodded. “Bob is complex. He doesn’t really mean any harm, but the man sometimes forgets that his actions can have far bigger effects than he intends. In his mind, what he’s doing is right, so he becomes convinced.”
Lucinda picked up the bowl. “I know Bob’s your partner, but don’t justify his actions. I just want him out of the house and besides,” she frowned as she picked up a whisk, “he lied all this time that he was getting a house. He was supposed to be here for two weeks and it’s been three months now.”
Octa sighed. “I know. I had a feeling that he hadn’t been searching for a home. I even found one of his letters in the mailbox.”
Lucinda huffed and whisked the eggs.
Smiling slightly, Octa stood up and wandered off to the living room to watch TV. With breakfast ready, Lucinda joined him, balancing her tray on her knees. Enjoying her fried egg, sausages and toasted, wheat bread, she didn’t even notice when Bob entered the living room until he announced a bit too loudly, “I’m about to cook one of the best Asian dishes you guys have never tasted, so prepare to be amazed,” and bounded off to the kitchen. Octa and Lucinda looked at each other warily.
He frowned as he pulled a pan out of the cupboard. Had it not been for her, he would still be living with his partner without a problem. Octa was fine with Bob, but Lucinda was the one who was getting irritated by his mere presence. She had to be dealt with.
Preparing his dish of sardines with potatoes, Bob pulled out a tiny pouch from his jeans’ pocket, feeling the contents inside with his fingers. Quickly ladling out some of the food for himself and Octa first, Bob opened the pouch, and sprinkled what looked like a white powder into the pot.
Bob smiled grimly. Untraceable, effective and perfect for a quick way out, he’d seen enough victims to know what happened once the poison had been consumed.
Stowing away the pouch, Bob washed his hands and balancing the three plates in his arms, made his way to the living room where Octa and Lucinda were still watching TV, their faces passive.
“Dig in,” Bob said, mock cheerfully, and sat the plates so Lucinda’s was in right in front of her. Lucinda reluctantly took her eyes off the TV and looked at the dish. It seemed harmless enough, but she wasn’t going to risk it.
“You know I don’t eat anything besides my cultural food chain,” she said, eyeing her plate dubiously. Bob gritted his teeth. “You’ll like it once you taste it. You too, Octa. Try yours.”
“I really appreciate you cooking, Bob, but I’m full for the day,” said Octa, flashing a small smile at Bob, who was silently fuming.
“Well, why not save it for tomorrow?” Bob pushed, watching his plan fail.
Octa didn’t take his eyes off the TV. “Thanks, bud, but I don’t think I’ll be eating it. It smells good, but my stomach can only take so much. But it looked like a good effort though, from the looks of it.”
Bob was furious. So much work and nothing gained.
“Fine.” Picking up the plates, Bob stomped out of the room and threw the dishes in the sink before going up to his room with his own food. Lucinda kissed Octa on the lips, feeling safe with him beside her.
A little while later, the house was quiet. Lucinda had gone to the post office for something and Bob was holed up in his room. Making his way up the stairs to the bathroom, Octa felt slightly uneasy at the eerie stillness of the place.
After he was done, Octa had just finished washing his hands and drying them when he heard a sound. The bathroom door had been open, but he quickly moved forward to close it to just a crack. Looking through the slit, Octa felt his blood run cold. Bob walked past the bathroom, his gun in his right hand and his eyes alert as if he was searching for something, or someone.
Octa stepped out cautiously as Bob disappeared on the stairs to the living room. He stayed quiet as he observed Bob going in a circle, then back and forth in the hallway, whispering “Where is he?”
Octa felt more shocked than angry. He knew Bob wasn’t always the most rational of people, but this? Was Bob looking for him, because he wanted to kill him? The gun wasn’t just for show. The piece was ready to fire.
Octa looked down at his watch. It was only two in the afternoon; Lucinda had been gone for a while so she’d be back any minute. His brain started to boil as he pictured unsuspecting Lucinda coming face-to-face with Bob’s gun. His brain going haywire, Octa felt rage
. I welcomed Bob into my home, and despite Lucinda’s complaints, I’ve kept him here for almost three months and this is the thanks I get?
Could Bob really do this?
Turning, Octa hurried to his room, devising a plan.
Meanwhile, Bob, who had been searching for Octa everywhere in the house, finally came up from the basement, feeling slightly defeated.
Where the hell is he?
He considered just calling off his plan, when he heard a noise – a door slamming. Slowly approaching the stairs, Bob tiptoed up, his senses alert for any movement or sound.
He heard water running in the bathroom. Entering slowly, Bob went up to the shower curtain and flapped it open. There was no one there, just a bathtub with almost enough water to run down the sides. Suddenly, another door slammed and Bob startled. The sound had come from Octa’s room.
Coming out, Bob quickly shoved his gun in the back of his pants and approached the door.
“Octa?” Bob called out. “You okay?” There was no sound from the inside. Grasping the doorknob, Bob opened the door.
This door was opened before when I was looking for Octa all over the house
, he thought. The room was empty, but the big fan in the master bedroom was on.
Damn fan. It was just the wind.
Bob grumbled, but then he realized something.
This means Octa’s not home.
Just then, he heard the front door open, and walking up to the banister, saw Lucinda stepping in, her head down and eyes on her mail. Lucinda kicked the door shut as she flipped through the letters. Hearing a metallic click, she looked up and felt her scream die mid-throat. It was Bob, and he was pointing a gun at her. Frozen, she stared down the barrel of the gun and back at Bob, her face going white.
Bob smiled frostily, “Well, you can’t act like you didn’t de…” his words died when he felt something cold under his throat.
Octa had crept up behind Bob and was holding a knife to his partner’s throat. Lucinda backed against the front door as she took the scene in.
“Lower your weapon, Bob.” Octa said, his voice calm and in control. Slowly, Bob lowered his gun, glaring hatefully at Lucinda. Suddenly, Octa whipped his hand out for the gun and grabbed it from him. Withdrawing the knife from Bob’s throat, Octa threw it down and pulled Bob by his collar toward the bathroom.
Lucinda snapped back to reality and started yelling for Octa. “Octa, what are you doing? Octa, stop!”
Octa paid her no heed as he pushed Bob to the bathroom where the bathtub was full of water. Kicking him behind the knees, Octa grabbed Bob’s head and forced his head into the water.
Bob struggled and tried to shove Octa away, but the man forced his head down even further into the water. Lucinda reached the bathroom and stared at the scene, horrified.
“Octa, please! Don’t do this, please, stop,” she pleaded from the doorway.
Releasing Bob, Octa stood up as Bob gasped and struggled to breathe. Going to the door, Octa pushed Lucinda out, slammed the door shut and locked it. As she hammered at the closed door with her fists, calling out his name, Octa went back to Bob and grabbing his head, pushed him into the water again.
Bob tried elbowing Octa in the jaw, ribs, anywhere, but Octa tightened his grip on him, keeping him firmly beneath the water. Bob fought, but it was useless. Twenty seconds passed and his lungs were screaming for air.
Octa pulled Bob’s head out of the water. “Please…” Bob gasped, his chest hurting as he took a quick breath, “Octa… please… I’m sorry…” but it was no use. Octa plunged his head back in the water. Bubbles boiled up, when he finally screamed, his lungs filling with water.
Lucinda was still beating on the door, but Octa was determined to make this lesson one that Bob wasn’t going to forget.