To Be Sure – by MICKIE BOLLING-BURKE

He reached the top of the stairs, arms full of clothes. She put her hand on his chest and pushed him backwards. The look of surprise was wonderful – she would relive that for years. To be sure she had succeeded, she poised at the top of the stairs and jumped straight down on his chest. His ‘oof’ when she landed was music. To be sure it counted, she stomped her boots as she stood on him – the last stomp on his face. She sighed with pleasure. And frowned. Footprints. Everyone knew he did the laundry and would probably believe he’d fallen. But footprints?

 

He lay in the bathtub, a book in his hands. She carried in a 5-gallon pot of boiling water and poured it over him. His look of confusion was lovely – she would relive that for years. To be sure she had succeeded, she shoved his head into the water. His thrashing was music. To be sure it counted, she held him under. She sighed with pleasure. And frowned. Burns. Everyone knew he took hot baths for his achy back and would possibly believe he’d fallen asleep. But burns?

 

He stood in the driveway, arms full of leaves. She put her foot on the accelerator and pressed down the accelerator. His look of shock was wonderful – she would relive that for years. To be sure she had succeeded, she pushed the pedal to the floor. His strangled shriek as the car knocked him through the air was music. To be sure it counted, she ran him over. She sighed with pleasure. And frowned. Tire marks. Everyone knew he raked the leaves from the lawn onto the driveway, and would possibly believe a car hit him. But tire marks?

 

She sighed.

 

“…your coffee?”

 

“What?” She jumped.

 

Her husband smiled. “I asked if you wanted more cream in your coffee. You’re far away this morning.”

 

“Plot contrivances.”

 

He sipped his coffee. “Let me know if I can be of any help.”

 

She set her cup down.

******

***Growing up on the east coast, Mickie kept her wrist watch at California time. When she finally made it to the palm trees and Pacific Ocean of the west coast, she knew she’d come home. Working as an actor fed her creative soul, until her beloved Los Angeles grew too big for her. She and her family now live in a small corner of the southwest, where she finds the sky as majestic and blue as she did the ocean. Mickie spends her time writing, reading, hiking and watching ‘The Three Stooges’ with her much adored rescue cat, Pal. ***