by Brian Cotton
***
William Sullivan placed the bottle of wax back onto the counter top. He balled up the used diaper cloth and dropped it into the laundry basket next to him. The shined, gold USR badge glistened with the light. He was slow to come to grips with it, but he no longer liked what he saw when he looked at the badge. The belief that was once there when he started his work as an Agent was near its end. He no longer accepted what it meant to be Agent…what that responsibility continued to force him to do.
Three years and counting since the promotion that allowed his wife to buy her dream home. He was surprised, even a little shocked, that it took him this long to start having second thoughts and regrets. After attaching the badge to the black leather belt, Sullivan used the small silver key to open the locked drawer to his left. The drawer slid open and inside sat a black Glock 17. He inserted it into the hip holster on his right side. As he did every morning, he hoped that he wouldn’t have to use it today.
With one last look in the mirror, he made sure that the buttons on his shirt aligned in perfect harmony with the gold buckle of his belt. The buckle, in turn, aligned in sync with the zipper of his black pants. His father always told him to be respectful, act respectful, and dress respectful. The least Sullivan could do was keep one of his father’s commandments.
“You look fine, Will,” Julie Sullivan said as she walked in behind him.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Sullivan replied, looking at his wife’s reflection in the mirror. She did it to him again, last night. She wore that black night teddy that Sullivan bought her last year, the one that drove Sullivan wild.
“Did you ever hear back from your interview?”
“Not yet, but they must have interviewed about a hundred people. You know how hard jobs are to come by?”
“You didn’t even go, did you?”
“Look, Julie—“ Sullivan started to get out.
“No excuses.”
Sullivan sighed, “Is everything all right?”
No answer, Julie turned and walked out of the room. Sullivan heard her footsteps going down the stairs. She continued her assault on him to find another job. He kicked himself for thinking that her demands would quickly go away. That was one of the most attractive features she had, her head strong attitude. Her strawberry blonde hair, long legs, and gorgeous smile added to it.
Sullivan always lied to her when he told her he went out looking. He would rattle off some excuse, the one this morning his favorite, but Sullivan knew that there was no way out. His soul had already been sold to USR. He would never escape, so he just had to learn to live with it. Julie would never understand. He just hoped that one day, by some miracle, she would come to the same realization and things would return to normal.
Before he walked out of the bedroom, he walked back over to the bed. He pulled out the .38 Special he kept underneath his pillow. He ensured the safety was on before putting it back. Sullivan then began his descent down the stairs. He turned the corner and walked straight ahead for the kitchen. There, seated at the dining room table, sat the only reason that Sullivan could try to live with what he did.
“Daddy!” David Sullivan, six years old, cried.
“Davie, good morning,” Sullivan replied with a smile. “Did you have good dreams last night?”
“I sure did, let me tell you!”
Sullivan laughed, “Go ahead.”
Davie began his story as Sullivan walked over to the table and took a seat at the head. He looked up at Julie, who worked on something on the stove. The smell of pancakes hit his nostrils. No wonder Davie was in such an uppity mood this morning.
“Daddy?” Davie demanded. “Are you even listening?”
Sullivan shook his head and returned his attention to Davie.
“I’m sorry, son, go on.”
“Anyway, like I was saying, I dreamed I was a super hero and I was putting away bad people. I was just like you, Daddy!”
“It’s ready, boys.” Julie said. She reached over for the plate of pancakes and brought them over.
“You need any help with that?” Sullivan asked.
“No.”
Why even bother? She was as cold as ever this morning. Sullivan could not place any blame on her, but he tried to. He tried to reason with himself that if she wasn’t happy with what he did for a living, she should go out and get her own damn job. At the end of the day, she was not the one who paraded around like a protector of the city all day, doing whatever was necessary to root out…
Not at home.
“You ready for another big day at school?” Sullivan asked.
“Sure am! I’m learning all kinds of things!” Davie replied.
“Really? Like what?”
Julie brought over the sugar free syrup and a pitcher of orange juice. Sullivan thanked her, but got no response. She left the kitchen for the living room. She would sit there all morning, by herself, just like every morning of late. He wanted to ask her if she was hungry, but again, why bother?
“Well,” Davie said, breaking up Sullivan’s thoughts. “In History we’re learning all about how the colonists stole the Native’s land. My teacher says that we shouldn’t even be here, that the world would have been better off it never happened.”
More horror stories? Sullivan hated sending his kid off to that school every day. It seemed that only negativity was taught, but he knew that it was the only way for Davie to get his education. The education he would need to become something…better than his father. Sullivan’s dream for his son was in the medical field. At least then, Davie could do something noble.
Davie shoved a mouthful of pancakes into his mouth and the sound of smacking lips drilled into Sullivan’s ears. He grabbed his son’s arm and gripped it tight.
“Davie, eat slowly and chew your food.” Sullivan ordered.
“Yes, sir.”
Julie always made a fuss about how Sullivan was too hard on their son. Sullivan never looked at it as being too hard, or not letting the boy grow up, but he would not raise a disrespectful slob. He would instill the same discipline in Davie that his own father instilled upon him. At least then, maybe…
Julie walked back into the kitchen, “The school bus is almost here. You got all your things?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“It’s Mommy, you don’t have to call me ma’am.”
“Okay, Mommy.”
Davie stood up from his chair then walked his plate of half eaten pancakes to the trash can. After scrapping off the remains, he walked the plate to the sink and rinsed off the remaining syrup. He ran back over to the table, grabbed his book bag, and ran out the front door to wait on the bus.
Julie moved to the sink and turned on the hot water. Steam filled the kitchen as she grabbed a bottle of dish cleaner. Sullivan placed his plate gently on the counter next to the sink. He tried to grab her hips, to breathe in her scent like he used to do. She moved the side when she felt his hands. Sullivan didn’t know how much longer he could take this from her. If not for Davie, he might have left a long time ago. He just couldn’t do that to his son, or to Julie. As irrational as it was, he still loved her even though he received nothing but her cold shoulder in return.
“You need any help with that?” Sullivan asked.
“No. You are going to be late for work if you don’t hurry.”
“Why are you—“
The sound of a gag reflex filled Sullivan’s ears. Julie bent over to the other sink and wave of vomit flowed out. After a deep breath, she did the routine once more. Sullivan moved over and rubbed at her back. Julie began to breathe heavily. Sullivan moved the tap over to the other sink and turned on the cold water. His wife washed her mouth out with it.
“You okay?” Sullivan asked.
“I’m fine, just something I ate.”
“That looked pretty bad. You need me to take you to the doctor?”
“I said I’m fine. You go off to work. I’ll clean this mess
up.”
“Fine,” Sullivan replied. “You just give me a call at the office if you need anything.”
“Just go.”
Sullivan went in to kiss her cheek, but he pulled himself back. She was not his favorite person right now and she wasn’t feeling well. He turned his back to her and walked towards the front door. He unhooked his jacket from the coat hanger. After he slid both arms inside, he used the mirror on the wall to ensure it looked perfect. He took one last glimpse at his wife. Sullivan watched as she took another drink from the tap. He wanted with all his heart to walk in there and make sure she was okay, to make sure that she knew he still loved her.
Why bother?
