Death by Remote Control

Murder By Remote

“I swear, getting you to do anything around here is like…”

“Like pulling chickens teeth, yes I know Mother.”

“Excuse me young man, when you do that it just makes my…”

“Blood boil?” I knew them all now. Every time she opened her mouth, I knew exactly what would come out.

“Why aren’t you just a chip off the old block?” Her attempt at mockery was lost on me as well.

I stood up from the table, folded the paper that had been my last refuge and walked out of the room. I could hear the whiny tones from the dining room I had just vacated.

“I can’t for the life of me remember the last time we had a decent conversation Trent. Lately with you it’s damned if I do and …” Her voice ended with the closing of the front door.

Trevor Maine, thirty-five year old, single white male, still living at home with his mother. Now that looks good on any ole boy’s resume. It seems I had been born without a spine. My father, the long departed, or should I say hastily departed Dan Maine figured that woman out fast, and left her and me even faster.

“Faster than a speeding bullet.” Damn, even when she wasn’t around I had her favorite phrases stuck in my head. “Distance makes the heart grow fonder and gives my ears a rest!”

The bus stop was two blocks from our house. Not a home, never a home – while she drew breath, I would never have peace. That was when the idea came into my head like a guiding light. She must die. It was the only sensible solution. I had to get rid of her and all her cutsie sayings and irritating whining about how I was a chip off the old block, and that I was tied to her apron strings because I was a few french fries short of a happy meal.

I pondered the situation the entire way to work. I worked at the First National Bank of Keep Your Nose to the Grindstone and don’t use the internet to surf for porn sites. Nice place to visit, wouldn’t want to work there – but I did. I had worked there after graduating from our local Community College with a two-year degree in Please Don’t Take Me Seriously And Pay Me Crap. It had worked out well for the bank.

“Good morning Mr. Maine.” The Security Guard opened the huge glass doors and greeted me as he always had.

“A good morning to you Officer Krupke!” I responded as I always did and knew the old man had no idea what I was referring to.

“Name’s just George sir, George Blackwell.” His tone held the exact same note of censor as always. Another routine in my life I loathed.

My footsteps across that empty lobby were as muted and heavy as my thoughts. Most people made the marble floors resonate with sound when they stepped across it, not me.

“Hi Trevor! I’m just going for coffee, want me to bring you back a cup?” My Angel of the Morning stood by the tellers’ windows smiling that special smile of hers. I knew I stood no chance with someone like her. If Mother were dead though, who knew what was possible. She was dating the head of Accounting anyway, old Chrome Dome himself. What she saw in him was beyond me, but I knew she would never in a hundred years go out with someone like me.

‘That would be just finer than frog’s hair Melinda. Thank you.” Now I was mouthing that old bat’s sayings out loud! I could feel the blush rush up into my face. Mother must die soon.

“Oh, and Trevor, Mr. Johnston wants to see you ASAP. He is in his office.” She floated away from me.

What did Johnston want with me now? I had done my daily audits and everything balanced. Sure the newer tellers screwed up their tills, but I had fixed that hadn’t I? I quickened my steps, heading for the President’s office suite when I saw his secretary holding the door open for Chrome Dome, Jack Ball. The Ball, as most of the tellers referred to him as, was as white as a ghost at Halloween and I noticed sweat beaded his brow. Now what had happened to him?

“Good morning Mr. Ball.” I muttered as we passed each other in the hallway. He didn’t look at me or respond. He was like a blind man in a dark room.

I knocked on the outer office of Mr. Johnston and his secretary Gladys opened the door. Someone must have told her to go ugly early, don't wait for closing time because this woman would have made a freight train take a dirt road. Hair a course mixture of gray and some sort of blond. I tried to tell her blond jokes once, but she must have a screw loose as she didn’t laugh once.

My death list was growing now. First kill my mother, then kill Jack Ball and maybe throw in Gladys for good measure. I would think on this.

“Gladys why does Johnston want to see me? Do you know?” I asked her.

“Mr. Johnston to you and I would not tell you that. Mr. Johnston keeps his own council about business matters.” She retorted with that mouth that puckered like she had a steady supply of lemons on hand. “Go on in now. Don’t want to keep him waiting do we?”

Yes, Gladys was going to be added to my list. Her patronizing tones, I almost expected her to tell me to take it like a man. My knock was answered by the rumbling bellow of the big man himself.

“Come in!”

I went in. Johnston was seated behind his gigantic desk like a spider in a web waiting for his next meal to arrive. He looked like an escapee from some fat farm. Forget triple chins, this man had so many chins I always wondered if his tie ever worried about getting lost forever in one.

“Sir, you wanted to see me?” The man pinned me with his eyes. He gave me that cold fish eye look that was as cold as ice.

“Hmpf yes Maine I did want to see you otherwise why would you be here? It has to do with...oh sit down, sit down. You look like a cat in a room full of rocking chairs boy!”

Yes, Old Man Johnston just got put on my list. I moved him up to right behind mother.

“Where was I? Oh yes, I want to talk to you about the Challenge School Account. You did an audit on that last week I believe?” Now the beetle brows pulled down and his piggy stare intensified.

I ran what I knew of the account and my audit through my memory banks.

“No sir.” I finally responded.

“No? What do you mean no? No you don’t remember the account? No you didn’t do the audit as I ordered you to? No what exactly?” His roar shook the windows in their panes.

“No I didn’t perform the audit sir. Mr. Ball sent me an e-mail explaining he wanted to handle the account himself. As he is senior to my position…” I let my voice trail off.
No need to beat a dead horse was there?

“So, if I am to understand you correctly, you allowed Mr. Ball to do the audit?” The fat man was catching on.

“I don’t know sir. I just know he told me not to do any audit on the Challenge School account and I didn’t.” I wanted to grin like a possum but maintained my dignity and held it back.

Mr. Johnston sat like a blubbery Buddha and stared at me. This man held my job in his chubby fists and I was in no position to protest the look. I held my peace.

“Okay Maine, that’s it for now. I may have more questions for you later. Go on now.” His Eminence waved me away like a bothersome fly.

I knew that I had best leave while the leaving was good. I made it through Gladys’ outer sanctum and to the hallway before I allowed the grin to break out. I had them. I had them all. Who knew that when I had taken that opportunity last week that someone else would be caught? I had the copy of the e-mail from Chrome Dome; the teller’s would testify that I had done nothing with that account. No one knew that I had just fleeced over a million dollars from that charity organization. The bank owed me anyway. I had slaved there for over ten years and what did I have to show for it? I lived at my mother’s house and she was still alive. The mortgage on that monstrosity was paid off, paid off with my hard earned money. She had no income. I paid all the bills. Now it was my turn at bat. I had just hit a home run.

With the money I had stowed away, I could hire a hit man to take out those people on my ‘wish you were dead’ list. I wouldn’t get my hands soiled with that either. I liked that thought. Death by remote control, yes that is what it would be.