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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1050171
Love,Hate and cable tv
The Box

By
James M



She’s looking at me again with those cold accusing eyes.

I try to turn away but they seem to follow me in the dim flickering sparks from the busted TV screen.
I look from her to the box but it can't show me what to do now, the hateful thing seems just as dead as she is, a stray shot got it I guess, I don't even remember shooting.

Reluctantly I turn my attention back to the two of them there on the floor, the guy still has a surprised look, amazement I guess you could call it, frozen on his features .
But Jenna, she still wears that same accusing look of contempt I have come to know so well after all our years of marriage.

In the distance I hear a siren wailing, they are on the way and I'll have to be ready.
So I must finish this fast....

It wasn't that long ago we moved here, maybe a coupla months.
You see I was finally fed up with the office routine and all the back stabbing, commuting back and forth was killing me and I said the hell with all of it.

Telling her was the biggest problem.
Jenna and I didn't exactly have the kind of marriage where we discussed things, we might argue we might scream but we never really quietly discussed anything.

To the neighbors there in suburbia we were the perfect power couple, her selling real estate part time, me working my way up that old corporate ladder.
Of course we had the new cars every two years and a beautiful house, tastefully decorated by someone else.
Yea thanks to visa and American express we had the means to satisfy all our petty little wants.
Looking back I guess that’s the reason we never had kids, neither of us being willing to step out of our own self absorbed world to put forth the effort.
A Perfect life you might think, but some where along the way it all started to rot.

I had wanted to be a writer since I was a kid, did some stuff in High school and planned on more in College but just never got around to it.
The Business degree was so much more attractive as a money maker and then after Jenna and I met, our junior year, well making money to keep her took up all my time. The writing got put off like things often do.

Yea I would sit down now and then and plan an outline for a book, maybe think up a few characters or situations but there was always something else to get done first, then damnit you turn around and your forty one day and the time has all just slipped away.

I've heard that referred to as a mid life crisis and I guess that as good a name for it as any.
You wake up and the road ahead seems shorter than the one behind. Most Guys will go out buy a fancy sports car and dump their wives for something younger and hotter.
Sometimes I think maybe I should have taken that route too, but no, I had a dream, and a wife that was still looking pretty hot even in her late thirties, it was her personality that I couldn't stand, her body still turned me on.

I can't really blame Jenna for her attitude, heck she was raised in a home where she never had to ask twice for anything. Daddies little girl always got what she wanted and woe to you if you got in her way. You play you pay. What’s hers was hers and what’s yours was hers if she wanted it and love was just fine as long as the credit limit on her platinum card was raised every so often.
What a bitch. But I guess shouldn't say that about her now....it’s not a respectful way to talk of the dead. And she is still watching me even as I sit here writing this....


So all in all, I figured it would be easier if I just presented my plans to her as a sort of Fait Accompli. I walked in that night and told her point blank, I had quit, thrown in the towel, had told em to kiss my ass and walked out during a meeting with the board of directors, and pissed away fifteen years with the company.

To say she was upset would be a mild understatement.
Although after all out years together she couldn't stand the sight of me most of the time, and I avoided her whenever if I could, my job did give her some measure of social standing down at the country club.

How did those dried up old biddies down there react I wonder.
"Oh did you hear about poor Jenna Harker?"
"My what a shame."
"Imagine your husband just up and quitting his job, selling everything, moving into the city, just to take a year off and write some silly novel."
"The poor dear, well we will just have to make sure we don't make eye contact with her won't we."


I guess the social embarrassment was one reason she didn't just up and leave me then, that and the mountain of outstanding debt. Always one to hedge her bets maybe she even thought I might be a success and if not well she could still play the martyr, standing beside the poor dumb sonofabirch who was throwing his life away .
Just the kind of part she loved, the tragic and heroic woman going down with the ship while her husband rearranged the deck chairs.

Well we unloaded the House, no problem there it was in a good area, good schools. Some young couple bought it, just starting out, I wish em luck.

The Cars were a little harder to let go, Jenna wasn't gonna turn lose of that damn Mercedes no matter what, so we had to work those payments into our new frugal budget plan. I tried to tell her it would be insane for her to keep the thing in the city and pay parking fees, but she was not really listening to me by that point.
I unloaded my Beemer for a modest profit, hell once I got the advance on the book I could just go back and pay cash for a new one anyway.
We moved into this smallish apartment with enough savings to last awhile if we were careful and I figured that with a few months of doing nothing but writing I would have enough of the novel worked out to wow the agents, and of course after they looked at it the offers would roll in.
That’s how it works…right?


I smell something,..... acrid like melted wires or scorched plastic.
The blue light on the box weakly flickers catching my eye.
The thing doesn't want to give up the ghost yet.
I pick up the pistol from the table and squeeze the trigger blowing the thing right off the top of the TV, the loud shot echoes off the walls.
Always kill the messenger that brings the bad news!
That was my next to last bullet....and they are on the way.

I remember when the guy showed up to install the box.
It was our second or third day here in the apartment, and neither Jenna nor I could even remember having called up the cable company. The technician had explained that the service was included with the lease and so, since it wasn't going to cost extra, we let him install the equipment in all the rooms with TV’s.

Heck if Jenna wanted cable TV, let her have it, I was gonna be too busy writing to watch anything anyway. I had taken the small second bedroom as my office and set up the computer, a printer and lots of extra paper.
I sat down at the computer excited and happy, with ideas already bursting from my head. I started to pound the keyboard..

A few hours later Jenna came in.
She was dressed in a nice business suit and heels and was putting in an earring.
She said something about a job offer with an agency here in the city and she would be back soon. At least I think that’s what she said, I wasn't really listening.

That first day I did half of the first chapter.
During that next week I did half of the last half of the first chapter.
The ideas I had nursed for so long were there waiting but for some reason they wouldn't come out on the screen as they did in my head.
I wrote, then scrapped and rewrote and then wrote again before deleting it all and starting again from the beginning.
Why did my characters seem so silly, their dialogue and motivations always childish or stupid. There seemed to be no point to the plot as it was coming out and so I continued on hoping that somehow it would start to make a little sense.

After a month of tireless work I had one lousy chapter that seriously screamed to be trashed. Frustrated and annoyed with myself, I stood up to stretch and noticed that it was two in the morning. I scanned a few of my previous lines from the screen in disgust, noting but crap!
Maybe I should try writing children's books instead; they had to be a helluva lot easier than what I was working on here. Hell that Rowling chick over in England was making a mint of those Harry Potter Books.

I slipped across the hallway and peeked into the bedroom.
Jenna was there under the covers, curled into a ball.
She had gotten the job at that real estate agency weeks ago and gushed on and on about her new boss Jeremy ...something or other.
Then her talk was all about having to put in long hours.
Well, at least it kept her from hanging around here bitching and griping all the time.

I headed into the bathroom to pee and noticed that I hadn't shaved in three or four days.
The stubble was growing into a respectable Hemingway type beard, very nice, I rubbed my chin. I looked into the mirror and winked back at myself,
A Portrait of the artist just before becoming famous.

I thought of heading back to work but what was the use, I was burned out and needed a break so I went instead to the cabinet and took out a bottle of scotch and poured myself a strong one .Then glass in hand I flopped down on the couch and grabbed the remote control.

The sleek black and silver cable box stared at me with that odd little blue light as I turned on the TV. Everyone knows that the reality of cable TV is that no matter how many channels you have there is still going to be nothing on at two in the morning.
I flipped through the endless infomercials for juicers and all types of exercise equipment, then vintage cartoons and old black and white movies but found nothing to interest me, most of this stuff was just the kind of tripe the public lapped up, sadly I realized it was also just the kind of tripe I had been laboring to write.
As I sat pondering that thought for some reason the TV screen just went totally black.

I sat surprised, the room suddenly plunged into total darkness, looking at the black screen,.Damn Cable must have gone out, I shook the remote and pushed a few buttons.
Nothing happed until....

Small white letters began to scroll across the screen and stopped in the center.

Welcome Mr. Harker , I have something you really need to see.
Please choose a secret pin number to access your personal Channel please.....

I looked down at the remote in the dim light, well this was something totally new, so I pushed in six random numbers and pressed the flashing enter button.

The white letters scrolled across the screen to the center
Thank you Mr. Harker, please wait just one moment.
I didn't even occur to me to wonder how the damn thing knew my name.
The screen filled with color , it was an overhead shot of our kitchen, and Jenna was standing there with cell phone to her ear, jabbering away as she poured orange juice.
What the hell was this?
Some kind of spy cam installed in the apartment?

My wife was apparently ready for work, the clock on the microwave behind her said eight fifteen.
She was deep in conversation with someone.
I turned up the volume so I could hear her better feeling like a peeping tom.

"...Yes you know how it is, he's still stuck in there working on that damn book.
No. No... Not tonight.. Well.... ,Damnit why not, sure .. You pick the place this time.
I'll wear something sexy.. Maybe that black dress you liked ..mmmm...oh yea baby,.... you know how I like it when you talk like that." She purred like a kitten into the phone.

I downed the rest of the Scotch as my thumb hit the volume down button until her words were silenced....
The bitch was having an affair!
She was cheating on me with some guy, and making a date right there in our kitchen !

I jumped up and tossed the empty glass onto the table.
She was cuckolding me and I had it all right here on the damn TV.
No wait that couldn't be right, what was this I was really seeing?
My Mind was reeling as I tried to make sense of it.

How could she be on the TV?
I watched her for a few more minutes but as far as I could tell it was all real and right there on the screen. I walked into the Kitchen, running a hand through my uncombed hair. There was the same clock on the microwave, now reading two forty five, in the sink sat a single unwashed orange juice glass , a pink lipstick smear on its rim.
Everything was just as I had seen it on the TV.
Unbelievable!

I headed into the bedroom, she was still curled up under the comforter, her bedside TV on the shopping channel, an open book on her nightstand, and her reading glasses on the page. I stated to reach for her, maybe shake a confession out of her, but something else caught my eye. Her clothes lay tossed on a chair where she had taken them off earlier, I reached for them instead.

The black silk dress felt hot in my hands as I pressed it to my nose and drank in the smell of her perfume, perfume she had put on for another man.
From under the dress a single black stocking with garters attached slipped to the floor landing on one of the shiny black stiletto heels near my feet.

I staggered back to the kitchen and grabbed the liquor bottle then back to the couch in the living room.
The picture of her was still there on the TV, her smile frozen on the screen.
I found the remote and just for the hell of it pushed rewind and play again.
The scene replayed.

As the scene replayed once more the little white Letters scrolled across the bottom of the screen as I sat there watching her.
She's making a fool out of you Jonathan!

I awoke the next morning with my neck hurting from having been twisted in sleep across the back of the couch and the liquor still pounding in my brain.
Rubbing my sore neck, I went into the kitchen, tossed the empty bottle in the trash and found a note from my oh so faithful wife.

She had to leave early and was going to be home late, same ole, same ole.
I went into the bedroom where the bed had been made and the black dress was now hanging in its spot in her closet. Sitting down on the bed I pondered why in hell I cared so much about what she did, or even who she did.
Any love between us was long gone and she hadn't cared enough to wear stockings and garters for me in years.
So some other guy was getting it, big deal, good for him, I had a book to write.
But it was a big deal, because she was mine, She's making a Fool out of me!


I stalked into the living room and grabbed the remote...began flipping channels..
What was that channel again seven twenty?
Nothing but random snow filled the screen, I tried seven twenty one nothing.
Damn cable never works when you need it.

Finally out of bored curiosity I went into the kitchen and tried to measure the angle from which I had seen her last night.... I climbed up on a chair and looked but could see no hidden camera, I poked around some more to no avail, and if it was there I couldn't find it.

Reluctantly I forced myself back in front of the computer, I had to get started on chapter two. I sat and stared at the screen for three hours and never typed a single letter.
Thinking a shower would make me feel better, so I gave up and went and stood under the hot water, trying to clear my head for awhile. Then I returned to the office and stared at the blank screen for another hour.

Finally in desperation I put on some clean clothes and determined to go out.
The small apartment was choking me and I had to get out somewhere, anywhere.

I ended up down at the public library, telling myself I was really doing research, though most of the books I sat down with I never even glanced at.

A cute college aged Barbie doll sat down across the table from me with an arm load of books of her own. She was nicely built and had a sweet smile when she suggestively glanced at me over the top of her book. Her skirt was short and her sweater tight.
We went from glances, to smiles, to conversation in no time at all , she was young and very impressed by my calling myself an author, hell by the time we walked out together I almost believed it myself.
Hours later as I left the pretty young thing worn out and sleeping on a cheap motel bed I had to admit what was good for Jenna was pretty good for me too.

I came in late because I avoided going home as long as I could by hiding in some bar till closing time, apparently Jenna had never even wondered where I was or if I was coming back. She was fast asleep again in the king sized bed, infidelity must be really wearing her out, the poor thing.

I plopped down on the couch with my new bottle, Vodka this time, and grabbed the remote. I wonder what my dear wife has been up to.
This time the channel worked when I stabbed in the numbers.
The screen was filled with a scene of the street, Jenna in dark glasses and overcoat clipping down the sidewalk in some other part of town.
Wow, I thought, They even do remote shots!

She walked into a building and entered an elevator. After several minutes she entered a door marked Helfsteder Real Estate.
Helfsteader, That was the name of the guy she was working for...now I remembered.
She walked into the inner office and a sandy haired man came over to her...there was some whispered conversation and giggling, then Helfsteader locked the office door.

My God, I never knew my wife was such a slut,
I mean really for the love of Pete they did it right there on his desk after knocking everything to the floor.
Even my earlier exertions with that limber little blond didn't compare to some of what I was seeing these two do.

I watched like a sicko perv trying not to let my self get excited, as he had his way with her again and again until finally they settled into that after sex small talk all filled with cooing and touching. I remember when she used to be that way with me, once upon a time.

It was then I heard it, I didn't catch it the first time because she whispered, so I had to use the replay button.
There it was again.
"I got the policy on him today, half a million, no problem, just like you said."
The smile on her flushed, just had amazing cheating sex on my poor dumb sonofabitch husband , face was full of malice.
My Blood went cold .

The man, Helfsteder I was guessing , laughed.
"Well you know what we have to do lover, once we bump off that dumbass your married too, it’s all going to be easy street for us."
She laughed as he pinched her bare nipple, half heartedly slapped at his hand.
"I can't wait, I will be all yours baby."
They embraced in a long kiss as I felt my stomach begin to retch.
The room was spinning, and I gripped the couch arm to steady myself.
I tried to stand but my legs were like rubber .

I looked back at the screen, frozen now with a picture of their kiss.
The screen went kind of fuzzy like the signal was getting weak and the picture grew dim or maybe that was just my eyes refusing to believe what I was seeing

Once more those small white letters came scrolling across the bottom of the screen and settled on the blurred picture of my murderous wife and her lover.
The letters burned into my alcohol soaked brain like a knife into soft butter..
Don't let them get away with it!!!
The room was spinning faster, the booze screaming in my head.
"What can I do ?" I asked feeling stupid because I knew on one was there but me.
I'll show you how to stop them, just do as I tell you....




Next Morning I was up early, shaved and showered and ready.
I cooked her breakfast, eggs, toast, OJ, even put a little flower by her plate.
She didn't touch any of the food just drank the juice.
I tried to engage her in conversation, asked her about the new job at the agency.
Her grunts in answer to my questions were non committal and vague .
She tried really hard not to look startled when I mentioned that I would like to meet her new boss, and I thought she was gonna choke when I suggested she invite him back here tonight for dinner and that I would do all the cooking.
I guess she didn't want to arouse my suspicions so she agreed to ask Helfseatder over.
Hell she must have thought I had lost my mind or else she was thinking of the fun the two of them were gonna have at my expense...
"The poor dumb bastard actually cooked us dinner.. What a laugh riot."

After she was gone I made a trip out myself, it didn't take long to track down someone who had what I needed for sale. I stopped by the market and picked up a few things and called her to confirm on dinner. Then I sat down and started drinking and writing....


The sirens are coming closer now, some neighbor maybe two or three, must have called.
They will soon storm in here guns drawn, ready for a fight.
Sorry to disappoint them but the show is over here.

It was over just after dinner when I suggested that my wife and her lover boy join me in the living room for drinks.
They really looked surprised when I pulled out the snub nosed thirty eight and confronted them with what I knew. Oh how they tried to hide from their sins, wouldn't admit to anything...pleaded with me to put the gun down, begged for mercy, yes actually begged for mercy.

But I knew what they were up to because I had seen them, there on the TV, the cable box showed me all their evil plans and then it told me how to put a stop to them... and I stopped them cold, dead cold.

The sirens have stopped now, they are coming, and soon they will burst in the door.
I'm no desperado waiting for them to come in blasting so I can take a few with me ... no not me...I saved this one last little bullet just for myself...just like the box advised me too.

Now the story is all done and maybe somebody will find this after it's all over and publish it, my dream of being a writer will finally come true. Too bad I won't be here to see it.
The pounding on the door is getting louder, voices raised in anger and frustration.
They will be coming in. just a few more seconds....
On the floor in her pool oozing of crimson Jenna looks at me with those cold hard accusing eyes to either side of the neat small hole I placed between them.
And she seems to smile as I place the pistol barrel in my mouth....



-The End-


© Copyright 2005 J. Mallone (gillbill at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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