Mr. Carter's Version
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
I'm almost embarrassed to trot out that old saw, but it's true. It
really wasn't supposed to be like this. This is not at all what Mother
and Father told me to expect from life.
Not at all.
So why am I surprised? I'm not, really. You know how people always say,
"ah yes, but the truth is something else, isn't it?" The great lesson
of life is that the truth is always something else, don't you
agree?
Perhaps not. Perhaps you would see things from her side. You would
wouldn't you? Picky, picky, picky.
Now surely you will be wondering why I killed her, won't you?
Questions. Questions. Questions are a burden.
I want to be helpful, a good little boy like mommy and daddy always
wanted me to be, so I'll relieve you of your burden, I'll give you my
answer, but you should feel free to make up your own answer. You will
anyway, won't you?
Why am I talking to you? Are you even listening? Why don't you say
something?
But then again, maybe you are saying something, and I'm a dead man and
dead men can't hear, can they? HA! HA! It's supposed to be: Dead men
don't tell tales. Are you laughing? I am. Can you hear me? HA! HA!
AGAIN!
Well, let's get on with it.
I married Mrs. Carter because it was the thing to do. Or perhaps I
should say I decided to make do. Or even better, I was encouraged to
make do. In those days, you were expected to get a job, get married,
raise a family, be a good churchman, retire, die. And not necessarily
in that order. HA! HA!
I never did like her. I never found her attractive. She was not very
intelligent. Our wedding night was pathetic and nothing changed for 30
years. I gave up on life the day I decided to marry her, and my soul
died on our wedding night.
Why did I marry her in the first place? I don't know. Everyone said we
would make a good couple. Some day. Just keep working at it, they told
me.
Why didn't I leave her? You're not a very careful reader, are you? Look
back a few lines. My soul died. Now do you understand?
Not a very pretty picture, is it?
We never had children. No pitter-patter of little feet around the house
for us. It was probably the only good thing about our so-called
marriage. Not because I didn't want children. I wanted a family, but
she thought it would ruin her figure. HA! HA! What figure? And what was
she doing with it, anyway, that it was so valuable and worth
protecting? Bollocks. She was just a selfish and evil. At least this
way no one else's life was ruined. Just mine.
NOW I hear you! JUST MINE, you say? Yes, just mine. After 30 years of
listening to that cricket voice of hers chirping insults and demands, I
don't care what she thinks. I don't have to. She's dead and that
chirping voice has stopped.
Only now do I feel alive again.
Ah, that film.
I'd forgotten about that film.
After 30 years with HER, I'd forgotten about anything but that cricket
voice chirping and chirping and chirping and chirping. And that scrawny
frame and that pinched mouth and the sullen expression and the cold
vicious blank staring eyes like a stuffed jackal.
HEY THERE MRS. CARTER, NOT CHIRPING NOW ARE YOU? HA! HA!
She was taunting me about going to "spots." Chirp, Chirp, Chirp. She
didn't think I'd be able to find one. Certainly not one showing movies.
But I did, god damn her to hell, I did, didn't I? Why aren't you
chirping now, you?.
And speaking of figures, I'd forgotten what a figure was, until that
film reminded me. It was Paris 30 years ago. I was young and alive, a
student, doing a little painting, a little writing, even got a few
things published in small journals. In French no less! I was proud of
that. AND, now that I think of it, I ACTUALLY SOLD A COUPLE OF
PAINTINGS!!! I'd forgotten about that too. WHEN YOUR SOUL DIES THE
MEMORY IS THE FIRST THING TO GO. HA! HA! Ok, it was only for a few
francs, but someone was willing to pay good money for something I had
created. I felt so good, now I remember, I felt so good, I ran to Mira
and told her and we laughed and jumped up and down and decided to
celebrate with a bottle of wine and some cheese and skip along the
Seine and tell jokes and laugh and I was so happy that day and we ran
into Louis and he said he was making a blue movie and needed two
characters and it paid 50 quid so we agreed and made the film for a
laugh it was that kind of day and we were so happy together. I let Mira
keep all the money. I didn't need it. She had nothing. She was a nice
girl. I felt happy with her. I wanted to share things with her. We
would talk and talk and talk and make jokes and laugh and laugh and
laugh.
And then there we were, up on the screen after all these years. Mrs.
Carter was not amused. HA! HA! She chirped at me all the way back to
the hotel, but I wasn't listening. All I could think about was the
wasted 30 years. When Mira died, I returned to London to a life of
"respectability," and I married HER, and my soul died.
So I bashed her head in with a marble ashtray. I won't tell you how I
got rid of the body. They might still be alive and I must protect those
who protected me.
But now I'm alive and no one will hear from me again as Mr. Carter
until after my death.
So, gentle reader, now you know. You don't know everything, but you
know why I disappeared in 1954. Oh yes, and why Mrs. Carter also
disappeared in 1954.
