Wrath White - The Resurrectionist

“Sorry, my fault. But just wait until you see the stuff they have in here.”

Sarah followed her husband to the back of the store where deceptively innocuous clothing hung on racks. She could not wait to see what kind of weird stuff they’d built into these garments. She felt like James Bond preparing for a mission. There were leather jackets with built-in bulletproof vests and holsters, purses with a slit in them for storing a gun for easy access. There were kitchen aprons with gun pouches, negligees and garters with built-in holsters, a Kevlar baseball cap, a pair of gloves with a built-in Taser gun, Kevlar pillowcases with hidden gun pouches.

“Okay, this place is pretty cool.”

They ended up buying the Kevlar pillow with the hideaway pouch for a gun. On the way out of the store, Sarah stopped to look at the surveillance equipment.

“I think maybe we should get a burglar alarm.”

“I don’t know if the house is prewired.”

“I think it is. We just need to hire a company to set it up and monitor it.”

“I’ll look into it tomorrow. It sounds expensive.”

She picked up a teddy bear with a camera in it.

“What’s this? He’s cute.”

The man behind the counter perked up, sensing a sale. Sarah guessed that he was probably on commission.

“That’s our nanny cam. It attaches to a VCR. You just turn it on and it’ll record everything that goes on in the room. Then you just play it back when you get home.”

“That’s pretty cool.”

Josh took the bear out of her hands and handed it back to the salesman.

“Maybe next time. We’re going broke here.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. We can take the pillow back if you want. We don’t need it.”

“No, I want you to have it. I don’t work as hard as I do for nothing. We can afford it. Let’s just leave before we buy anything else.”

“There is one more thing that I want.”

“What?”

“Let’s stop by The Linen Store and buy some new sheets.”

Josh didn’t ask her why and Sarah didn’t volunteer the information. She knew he’d figure it had something to do with some type of rape-trauma recovery, a ritual like cutting your hair or buying new clothes. Maybe he’d figure the sheets reminded her too much of the dream.

When they arrived at the store, Sarah began looking at sheets that she knew Josh thought were hideous. She didn’t care. The more hideous they were the better the chance he would remember them and that’s all she wanted. She picked up a set of green sheets with polka dots, flowers, and stripes.

“No way in hell. I’m sorry but those things are so loud they’d keep me awake all night.”

Sarah laughed.

“Okay, how about these?”

She held up a set of paisley sheets with big lotus flowers all over it.

“Didn’t Jerry Garcia die in those? They look like they should come with a bong and a nickel bag.”

Sarah covered her mouth and giggled. She always loved Josh’s sense of humor.

“It’s either these or the green ones.”

“Okay, but if I start having acid flashbacks in the middle of the night, you’re going to have to talk me down.”

When they got home, Josh went straight to bed, but not before Sarah stripped the bed and put on their new paisley sheets. There were still those disturbing bloodstains on the mattress. They had dried now but they were unmistakable.

“Jesus! You did bleed a lot.”

“I never started my period though.”

“Maybe you bled it all out in one night.”

“That doesn’t happen.”

“It could have been a miscarriage.”

Sarah stopped making up the bed and looked over at Josh. That was a possibility she hadn’t considered. She and Josh had stopped using birth control so it was entirely possible. Sarah finished putting the sheets on the bed and then stared at the sheets thinking about the possibility that her body had rejected an embryo or a fetus and Josh was about to take a nap in the blood.

Why the hell did you have to say that, Josh? she thought. It was time to buy a new mattress. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Josh staring at her while she stared at the sheets.

“Those sheets trippin’ you out? I’m suddenly in the mood to hear some Jimi Hendrix.”

Sarah forced a smile and tried to snap herself out of it.

“I’ve got some Jim Morrison and The Doors on my iPod.”

“I’ll pass.”

“Sleep tight, lover.”

Sarah closed the door quietly as Josh slipped into bed. She walked back downstairs, leaving Josh to sleep. They had been out all day and now he had only a couple of hours before he needed to leave for work, just enough time for a quick power-nap. Sarah sat on the couch, pointing the Sig Sauer across the street at the neighbor’s house and dry-firing it.

Sarah got dressed for a late-afternoon run. The summer was nearly over but the temperature was still in the low nineties. A stark white sun blazed directly overhead. The air was hot and dusty and there was no shade to be found. Sarah imagined that she were running directly beneath the hole in the ozone layer. She could feel her skin tightening as the Vegas sun baked all the moisture from her pores. Next time, she’d have to remember to put on sunscreen. Sarah hated women who fried their skin to darken it and thought tan lines were absolutely hideous. Living in Vegas, she’d seen the aftermath of one too many tans, premature wrinkles and dark spots, skin the texture of leather, and eventually the big C. It was idiotic to do that to yourself on purpose just to look beautiful. Sarah thought her own milky white skin was beautiful as it was. Yet here she was risking melanoma under the hot September sun.

She decided to cut her run short. The idea of getting tan lines was freaking her out. Sweat stung her eyes and a crust of salt covered her forehead and cheeks. Her black dry-fit top had big white stains on it that resembled efflorescence from all the sodium and potassium she’d perspired. By the time she made it back to the house, Josh was already up and getting ready for work. Despite the new gun sitting on the kitchen counter where she’d left it before her run, Sarah experienced a moment of dread at the thought of being left alone.

“You sure you can’t take the night off?” she asked as she hugged him from behind.

“Not after all the money we just spent. Tips have been slow lately, that’s why I’ve been working so much. The days when I made five hundred dollars in tips on a regular eight-hour shift are pretty much over until the economy recovers. I was thinking about doing a double tonight if the pit boss will let me.”

Sarah frowned.

“Just remember that I’ve got a gun now. If I find out that you’re fucking around on me I’m going to give you a.40-caliber castration or, better yet, an enema!”

Josh kissed her on the forehead, then licked her salty sweat from his lips.

“You don’t leave enough when you’re done with me to share with any other woman. If you’re still too freaked out to be alone, then I’ll stay.”

“No, you’re right, we need the money. But don’t do a double tonight. You can do it tomorrow but I need you tonight.”

“Okay, I’ll be home by one.”

“Be home by twelve thirty.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Josh smiled wide and kissed her on the nose, once more getting a mouthful of salty perspiration.

“When are they going to start giving you regular hours? You’ve been extra-board for over a year. One day you’re working eight to five and then the next day it’s four to twelve, then twelve to eight. And then with the overtime? This is getting ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but that’s why our house isn’t in foreclosure.”