Mary Mary Quite Contrary( Chapter 1 )

Slice, dice, julienne. Each cut had a name and each item sprawled out on the counter had a perfect way to be prepared. This meal had to be just that...perfect. Perfect meal for the perfect day for the perfect act. Mary could not contain the smile that sat plastered on her face for the three hours and twenty two minutes that it had taken her to prepare the menu for today. Two turkey and Swiss sandwiches, cut diagonally from corner to corner, they were only edible that way. Two peaches, skin smooth and showed no sign of bruising or other damage. Two Tupperware bowls full of the freshest lettuce, smoothest carrots, and homemade Ranch dressing made from only the freshest ingredients purchased just this morning from the most reputable of merchants the community farmers market had to offer. To wash it all down, Mary had made fresh sweet tea with lemon juice squeezed directly from the fragrant citrus itself. Everything was packed neatly into the compartments of the picnic basket, a section devoted to each course. Mary hummed Ode to Spring as she clasped the lid of the basket. Hum, click, hum, click. Mary gazed outside to see the sun shining through the pink petals of the Dogwood tree. The tree had bloomed so beautifully this spring, and Mary didn't think as he reached out the open window to pluck ripe soft petals off of the branch that tapped the glass. Even the day had chosen to be perfect. But of course, it had to be didn't it? Mary had been planning for this moment for years. Every detail carefully planned, even the park had been chosen months ago. A secluded and forgotten park overgrown with honeysuckle and Bradford Pears. Where else to have such an intimate moment? Mary had been feverish with thoughts of today, the thought she would finally go all the way. The half assed attempts and last minute doubts had finally been picked apart and analyzed until Mary could confidently conclude what caused her hesitation. She was not one to act on impulse, whim, without thought. All of her other trysts had been sudden, compulsive, and lacked the stringent finesse Mary imposed on all other forms of her life. Not today.
Mary had planned to the last detail, planned down to the grey poupon on the ciabatta bread, down to the exact measurement of three tablespoons of lemon juice to each 2 cups of brewed tea. This was how it was supposed to be done, how matters of the heart should be carried out: With planning, thought, and several notebooks of covered in notes and scribbles of how everything would occur. Mary followed a strict time table, and in ten minutes she was to meet the perfect man in the perfect location. Mary's excitement was almost palpable, she could almost see the aura of anticipation reflecting off her stainless steel appliances in a blinding aureole. She had concluded her impromptu vocalization of Ode and carried the picnic basket towards the door as gingerly as she would carry a live bomb. She reached towards the door knob when a gripping sense of self hatred stopped her hand mid reach. She had almost left without the means necessary to cut her peaches. In a rush, now fifteen seconds behind schedule, Mary yanked the cutlery drawer with a ferocity that she only showed the most stubborn of safety packaging, and immediately picked out the perfect knife. Small, compact, and sharper than Mary's wits. She tucked it neatly into the basket and made for the park five minutes from her apartment. She mentally chastised herself for almost ruining her carefully devised plan.
"You can't cut fruits without a knife can you, Mary" she thought to herself as she skipped down the stairs, a smile still causing pleasant cramps to creep through her face.
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Forrest waited exactly where he said he would, to the left of the overgrown path in an alcove created by vines, bushes, brambles, and hollyhocks. The green, yellows, and reds contrasted perfectly with Forrest's tanned skin that stretched to create a perfectly smooth canvas on which the sun painted it's masterpieces of shadow and illumination. Mary had to stop and admire this particular days piece of artwork. Forrest was smiling into the tree's perfectly content to be waiting for his girlfriend of four months. Mary had told him that this would be a special day, and she was sure that he knew what that implied.
" Fashionably on time, as always" He said to the trees.
" Ridiculously early, as usual." She teased.
Mary sat the basket on blanket he provided, the cliche checkered fabric ruffled a the unsecured end as the breeze tried to carry it away. Forrest attempted to assist in depositing the contents of the basket, and Mary smacked his hand away. This was her day too and she wanted to place everything into it's designated spot. The salad by the basket on her left, the baggies with sandwiches placed in front of each of their crossed legs, and the peaches placed between them with the knife placed by Mary's side, ready to slice the fruit at a moments notice.
" A place for everything and everything in it's place. Do you have your own funeral planned too?" Forrest joked and Mary laughed in contempt of this joke as she actually did have her funeral planned. It would actually be a nice occasion with snacks, drink, and an open bar for those who would be forced to attend either out of guilt or family pressure. However that didn't matter now because all Mary wanted to think about was Forrest and how he would be Mary's first everything. Her first date, her first boyfriend, and so much more.
" So, were you Julia Child in a past life? I don't think I have eaten filet mignon that's tasted half as good as this salad." His mouth was full of lettuce and kale but he managed to make his words sound like poetry.
" You flatter as always Forrest. It is just a salad and I am just a single person, no ancient spirits of culinary prowess in here. Just Mary." She flashed smile that would make the pants of Hollywood dentist lose several inches off the legs. She swallowed her sandwich with as much gusto as Forrest did and was half way through her immaculate salad when Forrest reached for a peach.
" Not yet! You have to finish your salad. I didn't do all of this work for nothing." He smiled at her madness and immediately dug into his salad with renewed hunger. The rest of their meal was finished with a slew of mmm's and ahhh's from Forrest. He was the perfect choice. Mary had known this when she sauntered over to him in the restaurant he was a waiter at. He had waited on her as she sat alone and she noticed his wandering eyes. He had just spoken to a woman and her aging father about how he himself had just lost his whole family in a car accident a year ago and that he wished he had cherished them more. He couldn't have been more perfect for Mary. She herself had lost her family a few years back. She had included her number with his tip and wasn't the least bit surprised when he called her after his shift not three hours later. He was tan, toned in the right places, and possessed a perfectly symmetrical face full of angles and ridges. After all the mind finds those with biological symmetry the most attractive. He was by far the most lonesome, handsome man she had every seen. Now, he would become the one to take her virginity.
" Now may I have a peach, madame?" Forrest smiled as he always did when he was teasing. A slight tilt to the right at an upward angle. If Mary had a protractor she could measure the exact angle of which his smile tightened. From a visual assessment, Mary guessed it would be roughly 12 degrees.
" Allow me." Mary said with dripping with intimacy. She grabbed the paring knife by the sturdy steel shaft and slowly punctured the soft fruit. The sudden release of the flesh to the blade made Mary smile larger, excited because she knew what would happen next. The fruit spurted juice that landed on Mary's hand, a sudden cold prick. Mary noted how the fruit made subtle protest as the knife made perfect chunks of the once whole drupe. It sounded like scissors cutting paper as the knife made swift work of the flesh. Forrest reached for a slice when Mary retracted slightly.
"Allow me?" Mary smirked and Forrest lit up like a fire in Nevada on the fourth of July. He didn't have to reply, his open mouth said it all. Mary lifted the peach to line his lips with the juice and then pop it in her mouth with a smile that could charm snakes. Forrest needed no invitation before covering her with his smooth bulk, his tshirt and khakis being to thin to really hide anything, or cause to much of a fuss as he tried to pry them off. His tongue probed at her lips, begging to replace the peach. She teased with slender fingers grasping in all the right places. Mary could feel the heat of him, the blood running in the veins under her fingers. Her excitement created a tight ball of sizzling heat in her chest. He was so close, her plan was going exactly as written in her many notebooks. She had been looking forward to this moment for weeks, the anticipation boiling to a level that even Mary had trouble coping with. His skin was warm and so close she could feel the taught definition of muscles slithering beneath his flesh in ribbons of grasping arms and reaching hands. His nails kissed Mary's skin with sudden trails of probing fingers that were to eager to be careful. Mary brought her hand behind his head, running her fingers over his cropped hair to push his face closer to hers. With the other hand she plunged her perfect knife into his perfect heart. He let out a scream that was more akin to leaved being disturbed by crushing boots. Raspy and cracked and full of surprise, he looked at Mary with pupils the size of quarters and lips now drooping with death and sadness. Mary felt the ball of heat explode in her chest to cause every part of her to feel it's heat, her fingers sizzled as Forrest's life dripped over her. She laughed and laughed at the sensation of life leaving Forrest and making her hands heavy, sticky, warm. Mary was happy about a lot of things. She was no longer a murder virgin, she no longer felt the nagging chill of impatience clawing at her. But most of all she was happy to feel the weight of Forrest hanging limp over her, and the cool handle of the blade grow slippery with hemoglobin, leukocytes, and a slew of enzymes. Mary had planned this since the day she heard Forrest had no one to miss him, no one to inquire about his where abouts. With time she had learned he had moved to Hampton three months prior and had met no one before her. He was trying to make a new start in a town that wasn't tainted with the blood of his family. Mary have relished the idea of this day. The hole was already dug, hidden be the bushed and hollyhocks that they had eaten in front of. In moments, after her post mortem high, Mary would roll Forrest's body to aforementioned whole and stuff him in, vertically. Anyone who would be snooping would be looking for a horizontal grave, not a vertical one. Mary had also included a bag of rotted meat and pork fat to layer on top of Forrest, so any dogs seen digging would just seem to be fooled by discarded cook out waste. Mary also had stashed a bag of clean clothes in a plastic bag with dryer sheets. She did not want to smell like cut grass and decaying leaves. Yes, Mary had brought everything she needed, and after she could stop laughing she would finish her perfectly planned act of sadism and she would walk away with the taste of peaches lingering in her mouth.