Permanent Solution

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Permanent Solution
by: Chuckster (chuckster@Writing.Com)
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"Dammit, Karen. Where the hell is it? It's not in here in my closet
hanging up where it is suppose to be! Once again here is another prime
example of your persistent inability to do anything right for me that I
ask for. You blatantly and purposely do these little things just to get
me aggravated just so I'll have a piss poor time on my only night out
with the guys. Do you have a mental orgasm hearing me perpetually
complain to you every day? You know perfectly well I play poker every
Wednesday night and wear my blue lucky shirt!" Roman screamed as he
rummaged though his clothes closet roughly tossing other apparel
haphazardly out into the living room. His belligerent attitude toward
her was intensifying each day.

"I'm sorry Roman. I haven't had a chance yet to iron your favorite
shirt," Karen replied apologetically keeping her tears at bay for the
present. "I have been busy with other things. You know, with the baby
coming and all."

"That's plain bull shit Karen. While you're home, you're on the phone
with your girlfriends or watching that crap on the TV soap operas.
Don't you dare give me any crying act about how hard you work at your
job either. You bitch all the time about cleaning and cooking and
slaving in this house but I don't see a damned thing done. But at least
you got one thing right in the twelve freaking long years I have been
married to you. You're finally going to give me a son after all this
time." He rolled his eyes and shook his head in flippant ridicule at
her inability to bear him a child since their marriage.

"Heaven only knows it's been a pain in my neck banging your pathetic
sorry looking sick ass once a week trying to get you pregnant!" he said
glaring at her. "I have to be blind drunk or read X rated fuck books
just to get it up long enough to dump a load in you." He rudely brushed
past her looking down upon her frail frame.

Karen avoided his stare but listened with rapt attention. "I'll iron
your shirt right now Roman, if you just give me a few seconds to get
this table cleaned so you can sit and eat your supper before you
leave." Karen wrung her trembling hands on her apron and hastened
humbly to place a setting for her husband. She glanced up, and by
chance, observed their wedding photo hanging on the wall over the
couch. A cherished reflection of perhaps, a happier time. However, at
this point in time, Roman's vociferous badgering of her continued
unabated.

"For Christ's sake Karen, hurry the hell up, will you? Mike will be
here in a few minutes to pick me up. And what kind of shit did you make
tonight to throw at me? Wait, don't tell me. It will probably make me
throw up. Your cooking usually does anyway," Roman snorted. "Face it
bitch, your cooking sucked twelve years ago and there has been no
improvement. Why can't you be like Rhonda, Mikes's wife? She's always
in a cheerful mood. Every time I see her, she is laughing and playfully
joking around. Mike says she cooks like a master chef and works out at
the gym to keep herself in great shape and attractive. She greets him
with open arms every night and is always ready to please him in any way
she can. She even has a nice cold beer opened and poured for him when
he gets home from work. His paper is there in his favorite chair ready
for him, and she has a fantastic meal prepared for him to eat. I mean
it is a privilege and a treat to come home to someone like Rhonda
everyday."

"Well, I guess I am not Rhonda," Karen replied sheepishly handing him
his freshly pressed clean shirt. Her self worthiness had been stripped
from her pride long ago. She succumbed to a suffocating silence and
became subservient in his presence.

"Why don't you try then? On second thought, you couldn't scratch the
surface of being like Rhonda. She's way outta your league. She's got
way too much too much class for you to even try and duplicate or
imitate," Roman laughed sarcastically as he tucked his shirt in.

Karen hesitated a moment to steady her nervous hands and placed the hot
bowl of freshly made stew in front of him. She stepped away from him
quickly fearing the cataclysmic explosion of his anger would erupt at
any moment.

"You're kidding right, Karen?" he frowned looking at her in disbelief.
His facial features were beginning to change and his expression
hardened with anger.

"Tell me I'm on freaking Candid Camera or some other TV comedy show
Karen." His eyes shifted and narrowed toward her. He drummed his
fingers along the top of table impatiently. "I look like an asshole to
you right Karen?" She didn't have time to reply as Roman jumped to his
feet, causing the wooden chair to slide backward along the hardwood
floor. He fiercely grabbed her wrist and deliberately drew her close to
him. Karen's legs became wobbly from his strength and she cried out in
anguished pain.

"No Roman, please, you're hurting me. You told me to cut the food
budget because of the baby coming. I'm doing the best I can with the
money we have." She swallowed hard as the tears began to well in her
eyes. "The new addition for the house Roman, the nursery...please, we
agreed." Her voice trailed off to a weak whimper and she feebly
struggled through her tearful pleas to escape his confining hands
around her.

He repulsively shoved her away from him in disgust. "Oh, here comes the
waterfall of tears and I am suppose to put my arms around your waist
now and hug you and tell you I am sorry for yelling at you right? I'm
suppose to kiss you on the cheek and say I love you so much and you're
doing a wonderful freaking job. Maybe I am suppose to send you a
lovey-dovey card and some pretty flowers and say you have made me the
happiest man in the whole wide world? Huh? Is that what I am suppose to
do Karen?" He taunted her and slammed his open palms on the
table.

Karen rubbed the red welts left by his hands around her wrists but
didn't answer. She licked her trembling lips and stared at the floor as
her chest heaved.

"Well forget it bitch. It ain't gonna happen."
Roman complexion changed to crimson as he poured the untouched stew
into the sink. "Mike may do those nice sentimental affectionate things
for his wife but she deserves it." He threw the empty dish hard against
the counter top. "I have repeatedly told you Karen, time and time
again, I work hard for the damn money that comes into this house. I am
out working pick and shovel and pouring cement and building bridges in
sun blistering heat six days a week. What do you do Karen? You answer
the phone for a fancy big shot dentist in an air conditioned office
parked on your skinny little ass for four hours a day for three days a
week. And what reward do I get? I get a baloney sandwich for lunch and
your muddy cold coffee. You even forgot to put my favorite cookies in
my lunch yesterday! Karen all I ask for is one shirt to be pressed and
cleaned and you can't even do that! I bet you didn't even pick up my
beer for tonight either like I asked you. Now that means I have to
impose on Mike to stop because my wife is too damn lazy to remember the
things that please me. I really think being drunk every day is how I
got through these twelve years with you. I have to be cocked out of my
mind everyday. Otherwise I'd be in the nut house putting up with you,"
Roman scowled as he chastised her repeatedly. "Now look, seeing you
don't have many dishes to wash tonight because of the dog shit you just
tried to pan off on me, would you fill up my truck with fuel and put a
quart of oil in it to?" Roman giggled basking in his domineering role
over her.

Karen's eyes darted around the periphery of the room. She nodded her
head with a sniffle and brushed a tendril of hair away from her
forehead.

"And please, don't wait up for me like you usually do. You make it seem
like you're my mother or worse yet,..my wife!" He slammed the screen
door and whistled a tune as he hurried down the walkway to the
curb.

********************************************

Karen stared at the back of the newspaper Roman was reading while he
was eating his Sunday morning breakfast she just prepared. She bit her
lower lip and toyed with her stale toast. She swallowed the lump in her
throat before she spoke.

"Roman?" she asked gingerly.

"Yeah, what is it now?" he groaned crushing the paper in front of him.
"Here we go again!" He raised his eyes to the ceiling in disgust at the
sound of her voice. "Why do you insist on interrupting me when I am
reading the sports section of the paper?" The bitterness in his voice
caused Karen to look away from his facial features.

"Roman, I know you work hard and you are tired once Sunday comes." She
tilted her head to one side and raised her eyes to meet his.

"Yeah, that's right. So don't even think of asking me to go with you
and visit your mother because that is out of the question. She is as
crazy and off the wall as you are." Roman cleared his throat and
resumed reading the paper.

Karen forced a low volume laugh and reached over to pull the paper down
from in front of his face once again.

"No, of course not Roman. I am asking you if you would you tell me how
to go about building the nursery addition to the house." Karen rested
her back against the chair and folded her hands in front of her.

Roman slowly put down the paper. He looked at her bewildered and
puzzled.

"What did you just say?"

"I think I can do it. That is, if I had your expert guidance of course.
You won't have to do a thing except supervise and direct me." She
smiled with a degree of confidence.

"Don't be absurd! You could never do it Karen. You ain't got the balls
or stamina to even attempt such a project," he said chuckling and
lifted his paper in front of him once again.

"How do you know Honey if you don't let me try? You order the materials
and the cement that we are gonna need and tell me where to nail," Karen
said excitedly reaching over and clenching both of his hands.

"You think that's all there is to it?" he asked with a wide grin.

"Well I was hoping you could tell me like where to start and how deep
to dig the holes and put those big boards and attach those metal
doohickey things onto the boards."

Roman's eyes danced with delight. "Oh brother, this will be an
absolutely three ring circus. You haven't got a clue do you? You have
to mix cement by shoveling three to one and pour footings in thirty six
inch cylinders with crushed stone gravel and four by sixes timbers and,
oh just forget it." Roman just shook his head and raised the paper once
again.

"Come on honey. Think of it. It's for the new baby." She slowly reached
up and softly touched his cheek. "And it will give me a chance to prove
to you I am not such an useless dirt-bag like you constantly refer to
me as." Karen's eyes pleaded her cause. "Just think, you can show it
off to Mike as I go along with it. I am sure he'll want to watch the
progress too!"

Roman pressed his lips together before he spoke. "Well, I will let you
make a fool of yourself with your hair-brain idea on one condition,"
Roman proposed pointing a menacing finger. A smile finally broke
spreading over the craggy features of his face.

"Anything!" Karen squirmed in her chair with the gleaming anticipation
of a child on a Christmas morning.

"I am just going supervise this project and give you instructions.
You're gonna see what it is like to work like I do in the blistering
sun banging nails and lifting timbers and sweating and carrying bags of
concrete. I am going to sit in my chair and watch you sweat your ass
off for a change. A welcomed role reversal where I can drink beer and
see you sweat until you think you're gonna pass out!"

"When can we start, Roman? The sooner the better as far as I am
concerned, Karen asked excitedly. "And this way Roman, you won't have
any pressure on you, that is for a little while anyway." Her eyes
darted and danced around the room. "I have finally seen the light and
have been inspired!" she said proudly licking the corners of her
mouth.

"Very well then, Karen. I'll call the lumber yard tomorrow morning and
have the materials delivered on Tuesday. You should have the box frame
and deck up by the weekend." Roman laughed pondering the future and how
structurally solid the addition would be by the end of the week.

"Thank you, Roman, You don't know how much this chance means to me and
the baby as well." Karen smiled and breathed a deep contented sigh. "I
have been looking forward to this for such a long time."

The sun radiantly burst through the thin lined clouds on Tuesday
morning and by 10:30 the flat bed truck had completed its delivery of
an assortment of timbers and other materials necessary for the
construction project.

An unwelcome mixture of annoyance and curiosity washed over her as she
astutely scanned the lumber. A slight smile wavered on her lips
as Roman's truck came onto the gravel base driveway. She heard his
boots crush the tiny stones as he walked into the back yard.

"Well, I see you are all set to go there, Karen," he said clapping his
hands together. A sudden smoothness registered in his tone of voice as
if he were taking great pleasure in her helplessness and inabilities.
"What a lovely day it's going to be to see you struggle and sweat until
you almost drop dead."

"What do I do first?" Her voice quaked a bit. She swung her hammer by
her side and adjusted her baseball hat. Inside herself, she was
petrified.

"See where I have the stakes sticking in the ground Karen?" He pointed
in a direction near the house as he sat on neatly tied stack of
pressure treated deck planks. She sauntered over and touched one.

"These Honey?"

Roman nodded. "Now see those long and wide aluminum cylinders next to
the fence? They look like rippled sections tubes of drain or culvert
pipe?"

Karen went over and placed her gloved hand on the six foot cylinders.
"These are nice and light I can lift these like a feather."

Roman laughed as he stood and walked toward her. "Well now, where I
have those stakes, I want you to dig down six feet so each one of those
cylinders will fit snug inside each hole right up to the top."

"Oh, Roman, I can't do that! I mean, I don't have the strength to do
that much. It will take me ages to dig holes that deep! I have to be
careful of the baby!" she cried. She tossed the hammer onto a pallet of
rapid setting cement.

"You have all week, my dear. It will keep you out of the house and away
from watching TV and off the phone. Remember Karen, this was YOUR idea,
not mine. Now if you will excuse me, I will get myself a cold beer and
sit back, enjoy, and watch you make a complete fool of yourself."
Roman's laughter faded only when she heard the screen door creak open
and slam shut.

"Bastard!" she muttered as she took the first shovel filled spade of
earth and tossed it into the wheelbarrow. Her muscles ached from
exertion and the sweat poured off her in streams stinging her eyes and
irritating her scratches she had
sustained as she toiled over the footing. Finally satisfied with what
she had accomplished, she placed the shovel next to the wheelbarrow and
walked into the house. She collapsed into an easy chair and released a
heavy sigh. "I am totally exhausted, Roman." She closed her eyes and
drew a deep breath and released it slowly.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! What's up with this shit about sitting down and
resting Karen?" he asked pleasantly while opening another can of
beer.

"What is it Roman? Please I am exhausted," she begged raising an arm
and letting it fall heavily by the side of the chair.

"Supper? Did you forget to prepare it for me?" Roman giggled patting
his stomach and releasing a belch.

"Supper? You want me to make you supper now? Can't you go get a bite at
the corner deli shop?" she asked faintly closing her eyes once
again.

"The budget Karen, the baby, the addition, remember? We can't afford to
go out to eat and spend money. That is why you were making me your
shitty tasting dog food stews two or three times a week." Roman laughed
as he took another large gulp of his beer.

"Can't you make something for yourself Roman. I promise this will be
the last time, just for tonight? Please hun, have a heart. I can't keep
my eyes open I am so tired. I can't even stand up on my feet.
Everything on my body hurts."

"You should have thought about that before you opened your big mouth
Karen. I KNEW you couldn't cut it. You're no good for nothing. One day
on the job and you quit. A freaking loser. How many holes did you
finally dig?" he screamed.

She woefully looked at him and swallowed hard before she spoke. "One,"
she replied holding up her index finger.

"ONE!" Roman hurled his half filled beer can hard against the far wall.
"All this time and you only have one hole dug?" he screamed in
disbelief.

"But Roman, the cylinder fits perfectly inside the hole just like you
said. Come and see for yourself if you don't believe me," Karen groaned
as she struggled to lift herself out of the chair.

"Yeah, let me see this footing hole you are so damn proud of. I hope
it's straight and level because that's where the four by six inch
timbers have to be set in the concrete," he grumbled jumping to his
feet.

Together they walked down the porch stairs out to the middle of the
yard.

"Give me the damn tape measure, Karen. I want to see if it's deep
enough," he demanded holding out the palm his hand.

"Oh that's what I wanted to tell you. I dropped it in the hole while I
was measuring it. I'm sorry, it just slipped out of my hand down there
in the hole," Karen offered politely.

"SORRY! You're sorry? That is my best metal tape. For Christ's sake
can't you do anything right? Now I have to go down there and find it.
Get me the big flashlight from the house."

As Karen turned away from him, Roman jumped down into the darkness of
the hole. Both his ankles folded like wet cardboard when he hit the
bottom. The sharp pain echoed through his thighs and his shoulder hit
the side of the aluminum wall.

"Holy shit! This freaking hole has to be nine feet deep. That stupid
sorry ass bitch can't even read a tape measure!" he mumbled to
himself.

"Karen! Where the hell are you? Get the light and the step ladder. You
dug this freaking hole way too deep!" he shouted with cupped hands
straining to see the fading sunlight overhead.

"Karen?" he shouted cupping his hands once again around his mouth and
continued looking up from the hole.

An unexpected splattering cloud of cementitious material splattered
over him which choked and blinded him momentarily. A mixture of water,
sand and stone flooded the aluminum cylinder rapidly.

"What the hell are you doing?" he called in frantic exasperation.
"Karen! What the hell is going on with you?" Another tidal wave of
rapid setting cement washed over him obstructing his vision. He
couldn't move as the cement wrapped neatly around his ankles and thighs
now as if they were a timber support. A liquefied gripping material
enveloped every contour of his lower body. An icy finger of pure terror
flowed quickly through his veins. A frightening image flashed before
him of being cast in a cement coffin forever.

"Karen, please, get me out of here! Think about what you doing to my
child!" he begged covering his head with his arms. Karen dumped another
wheelbarrow full of cement over him down into the depth of the
hole.

"My baby, Karen. My son, please," he cried out stretching his arms
upward toward the light. "Think of what you're doing to my baby! Think
of us and my baby."

She rested on the shovel a moment and stared down into the hole at her
husband as he struggled against the tightening bondage of cement. She
provided him a wry smile. "Your baby, Roman? What makes you believe I
am carrying your child?" She started to find his death amusing as she
slightly giggled at his ineptness. "No Roman, it's not your baby at
all. This nursery is going to be for Mike's baby. It's not your son,
Roman."

His eyes screamed with horror in the last page of his chilling
nightmare. Karen tilted the last wheelbarrow of cement into the hole
which permanent sealed the footing and with it the last of her
husband's complaints forever.

? Copyright 2001 Chuckster