6/7/10

JOE AND THE TEN MISTERS
By Michael A. Kechula


Mr. Sensible asked, “Do you need a woman at school who barely talks to you, when you already have one at home who acts the same way? Do you need more punishment? Why don’t you just quit chasing Sandra and walk away?”

Mr. Sensible had some good points. I didn’t know how to answer.

Then, Mr. Unconditional spoke up. “Are you supposed to get good feelings out of this? Didn’t you decide to love Sandra regardless of her reactions to you?”

I answered him, stumbling over my words.

He continued. “So what if she’s tired. She won’t always be that way. Remember her charm when she’s rested? Don’t forget how tired she was when you gave her a book for her birthday, and she reached out as if to shake your hand. Then a few days later, she was all smiles and charm and riding in your car. So, don’t be so impatient. Hang in there. Otherwise, forget this unconditional stuff.”

I told Mr. Unconditional he was right. I’d love her unconditionally for a while longer.

Come to think of it, she said something the other day I thought particularly uplifting. On the way to the parking garage, she remarked, “There’s a beautiful tree in bloom near my apartment. It made me think of you, Joe, and how much you’d appreciate seeing it.”

“You saw blooms and thought of me?” I asked.

“Yes.”

It was nice how she thought of me in relation to blooms. I’m certain Mr. Analysis will do some interesting free association and speculation over that. Things in bloom. Things growing. Things coming to fruition. Things blossoming out into something really beautiful. Is that what will happen between Sandra and me? No doubt I’ll hear from Mr. Analysis when he’s finished mulling over the implications of her statement.

While walking her to the next class, I mentioned I’d go to the movies on Wednesday. She said a new sci-fi movie was coming out, and she’d get Ed to take her. She hadn’t mentioned Ed in a long time.

“Ed? Oh. So how is he?”

“Boring. He has no smarts in English, whatsoever,” she said. “Not like you, Joe.”

She downplayed him again. Who and what does she really want?

Mr. Jealously wondered aloud how I might manage to expunge Ed from Sandra’s thoughts, forever.

Mr. Stoic reminded me not to expect too much from Sandra. That way I won’t get disappointed. I’m usually like that anyway. Lately though, I’ve thrown away all my common sense and practical knowledge when it comes to her. I feel like a stupid kid at times, though I’m twenty years her senior.

Mr. Practical insisted I was trying too hard. He told me to relax a bit and go with the flow. I said I would. But the moment I saw Sandra at school, I went nuts and forgot my resolve.

Mr. Caution asked, “What the hell is the hurry? Give it time.”

I practiced an answer in case he’d ever ask. I lied, insisting there was no hurry.

Mr. Deprivation knows exactly what the hurry is. He knows about my intense daydreams and X-rated night dreams. They’re always about Sandra, Sandra, Sandra. He knows about my miserable, unfulfilled existence, and my desperate physical needs. I wish I could banish him, forever. He makes me face harsh reality. But I tell him he’s wrong, and that everything he says is drivel.

Lately, somebody new has stopped by to express opinions: Mr. Darkside. He tells me there are ways to eliminate Ed. With Ed gone, I’d have clear sailing with Sandra.

Mr. Darkside also reminds me at least once an hour how wonderful life would be if my wife disappeared.

The more my spouse ignores me, hates me, the more Mr. Darkside nags me to take action. His ideas are peculiar, crude, often amusing. Sometimes he makes me laugh out loud during classes.

I like the plan he suggested the other day. About switching my wife's drugged, comatose body for somebody else’s, after the deceased’s coffin is loaded into a hearse. It’s a complicated plan, but I know I can pull it off. Not only will I stuff her into that coffin, but I’ll also include Ed. I’ve done the math and know exactly how I’ll have to dismember him to make him fit.

The plan is set. Mr. Darkside and I are waiting, but posed for immediate action like a SWAT team.

The next time I see Sandra, and she doesn’t talk to me enough, and if my spouse acts the same way, that’ll be the signal to take action. It’s a matter of synchronicity and auspicious linking events. However, if Mars is in retrograde, I won’t execute the plan. Nor will I make a move if the Chairman of the Federal Reserve increases interest rates a quarter of a point. If, however, they find Elvis Presley’s hiding place, and where Jimmy Hoffa has been hanging out for the past thirty-five years, I’ll implement the plan immediately.

Then for sure Sandra will sleep with me. She may not say much, but she’ll sleep with me. Mr. Ego assured it will definitely happen. And he’s ALWAYS right.


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BIO: Michael A. Kechula's flash fiction has published by 126 magazines and 35 anthologies in 6 countries. He's authored two collections of flash fiction tales: "A Full Deck of Zombies - 61 Speculative Fiction Tales" and "The Area 51 Option and 70 More Speculative Fiction Tales."