The Death of a Modern Man

The smile got bigger.

"Yes, Thunderchild said you'd ask that. She calls you my caveman, you know. But look at yourself Dave. You're an electrician. You were lucky to get me. You'll never meet anyone who could love you as much as I do. To answer your question though, I hope if the situation were reversed, I would be big enough to understand your dilemma. It would just spur me to fight harder."

Her face softened abruptly.

"Look Dave, I don't want you to think I can't feel your pain. I can imagine what you're going through. I'm just sorry that you made it necessary."

She got up as if to leave. I was desperate to put a little hurt on her before she did. Plus, I'm a basically honest guy.

"Before you go Lisa, I just want you to know that the deal I told you about when you tried to leave last time, still applies. If you drive out that gate, that's the end. I will consider it a request for a divorce. There will be no way back."

Lisa just smiled again.

"Thunderchild said you'd try that bluff as well Dave. Just look at it from my point of view. The worst that can happen is that I end up with Michael. Richer and happier. You can't bluff with no cards Dave."

The bitch knew I was bluffing, but had the reason totally wrong. My company accountant told me I needed another month at least to transfer ownership of my company. I decided on a desperate lash out.

"Look Lisa. Whatever happens, I will feel responsible for you until you marry someone else; someone decent. Especially since I now know you're way sicker than I ever suspected. That responsibility includes protecting you from a man who is such a lowlife that he would steal a married woman away from her husband. A coward that takes off and lets the love of his life face her angry husband alone."

Finally, I could see I'd got through to her. Deep down she remembered her old values. I don't know how deep her fundamental shame was buried, but I knew it was still there. Delighted in the prospect of returning some pain, I said more than should have. It risked ruining my newly hatched plan but hey, I'm only human.

"If you think I'm going to sit here like a supplicant, waiting for you to throw me some scraps, you're wrong. Just like I'm not going to let you and that wife stealing, scum sucking mollusc, ride off happily into the sunset. Though maybe you deserve each other. The amoralistic wanker and the slut who breaks her marriage vows."

Yes, the modern man was dead. The caveman ruled supreme. I watched the hurt hit home. Then I watched the filters inside her head do their evil work. The smile returned.

"Bluffing again David. Keep the light on, I'll be back in two weeks, a month at the most."

She turned away towards the front door. Conversation over. Ultimatum delivered. Once she was out the door, she saw the remains of her phone.

"I'll ring and tell you my new phone number."

"Don't bother, I won't need it."

She looked confused.

"Why Dave? If you don't have my number, how can you ring me before I get back?"

"I won't need to ring you ever again. Stuff your number where the sun doesn't shine."

Again I saw the filters at work and the smile return.

"Look Dave, I'm really sorry I had to do things this way. I know I've hurt you and would give anything to have avoided that. But as I see it, we're both better off now that I don't have to sneak around behind your back. I felt bad that you forced me to do that. It was really stressful and stopped me relaxing around you. If you love me as much as I love you, we'll be fine. See you soon."

"No, goodbye Lisa. Give me a ring before you come over to visit next time. Now we have an open marriage, I may be entertaining a lady, if you know what I mean."

She stopped.

"What's an open marriage Dave?"

"You know Lisa. It's where a married couple sleep with other people outside the marriage."

Lisa reacted instinctively. She swung around and took two steps towards me. Then she stopped and the smile returned. She'd recognised the cheap tactic to get her to contradict what she'd said before. Still smiling she strode to her car and drove off. I wondered when she'd discover that I'd removed all the bank cards from her wallet. I also had her rings, removed before she went to her 'mothers' yesterday. If lover boy was going to poke her for the next month, he could pay her bills. I went back to the house to ring my accountant. There must be a way of speeding up the legal process of divesting a company.

Lisa's mother rang for an update that night. I told the simple truth. Not because I vindictively wanted to cause more pain to Lisa, but simply because even cavemen are honest guys. Besides we'd always consulted about Lisa issues. From her declining mental health, to pressuring her to find a counsellor. Her mum suggested that whatever happened to us as a couple, steps should be taken to remove Thundechild from Lisa's life. I couldn't agree more. The last thing her mum said to me was that whatever happened, she would be there for her. I read between the lines. She knew that her daughter had gone way beyond the foul line into unrecoverable territory. She was clearing my conscience.

That night, Mr Michael Smith was attacked in his driveway and had his wallet stolen. When the police visited him in hospital he described his attacker as being over six feet and wearing a ski mask. Surprisingly, the police didn't visit me. It is a rough neighbourhood I suppose. What a waste of an alibi, re-wiring the men's shed with two divorcee witnesses. I was watching his flat the next day when Lisa brought him home from the hospital. He was stooping slightly; that would be the broken ribs. He also walked like an old cowboy. Swollen testicles do that to a guy.

I rang a locksmith the next day as I'd come home to find much of Lisa's stuff missing. She also left her new phone number. I programed it in to my cell so I knew which calls to ignore.

Two weeks later, I watched Lisa and him loading up the caravan parked in his driveway, already attached to his car. That activity lasted until late at night, under the glare of the newly installed security lights.

The next night I drove past the flat and saw a bizarre sight. A car with its nose pointing at the sky and a smashed windscreen above the steering wheel. The back axle of the car, complete with wheels, sat a metre behind the trunk. Behind those, a caravan on its side. A trained forensic investigator would have pieced this mystery together quickly. A driver, gunning the engine to get a heavy caravan up the driveway, stunned when the chain attaching the rear axle of the car to a tree reached its limit. The sudden jolt dislocating the rear bogie and Newton's first law causing the drivers head hit the windscreen. Should have worn a seatbelt Mick. The impetus from the suddenly tightening chain under the caravan wheel, flipping it onto its side. Bloody kids and their pranks. On a separate matter. Two more nights and I'll have the men's shed completely re-wired.

Neither the happy couple, nor the police had so far linked me to the two incidents. Goodo.

Lisa had left two messages on my phone so far. Reminding me she loved me and enquiring about my health. I bought a snazzy new phone and had fun reprograming it. Most calls got diverted to my old number. Calls from Lisa would be diverted to Gamblers Anonymous. I figured that was appropriate, as she was taking the biggest gamble of her life.

When Michael came home the night of the incident, his head was bandaged and he was stooping again. Hitting the steering wheel with those healing ribs must have really hurt. I'm fairly sure that even if he was enjoying my wife's company, he wasn't enjoying her bedroom skills.

I asked around among my guys, which of them had broken ribs in the past. The one I found explained that it was a good month before he could do anything like normal activities. Therefore, four weeks after the original beating, Michael was again attacked. Coincidentally, by a six footer again, but with a different ski mask. Again he was battered and bruised, particularly in the groin area. Also again, his wallet was stolen.

This time I was visited by the local constabulary. As was the men's shed member whose house I was installing new light fittings in at the time of the incident. Marvellous how the charter of the men's shed was working. Men supporting each other in adversity. From what I could gather, Michael was in hospital three days that time. It was a little hard to tell, he hadn't replaced his car yet. Whether he wasn't insured or they wouldn't honour his claim, I just didn't know. Or care, for that matter.

The messages from Lisa on my land line, were getting more frequent and more despondent. I guess she was lonely in that apartment all alone. Not desperate enough to see how serious I was about my bluff though. She sure was a confident little cheater, I'll give her that. I'm was a little surprised she didn't come around for sex. It had been a while for her I'm guessing.

I watched Michael's work at 11PM some nights just for a laugh. It was comical watching him open a first floor window and carefully scan the carpark for a good five minutes before daring to leave. Crikey, I guess that makes me a terrorist. This observation also allowed me to spot another pattern that would be useful in the future.

Two weeks later, I finally got the call I'd been waiting for from my accountant. I no longer owned my company, some guy in the Cayman Islands did. I hoped to meet him one day, he was loaded thanks to that big government contract that I'd landed a couple of months ago. I was back to being a humble electrician again. I guess Lisa was right. I would always be tradesman.

Time to end the charade. That very night I staked out Michaels office. At just after 10PM, one of the cleaners left the side door to dump multiple trash bags in the dumpster. I snuck in the propped open door and hid behind the reception desk. There were no cameras that I could see. I grabbed the telephone directory off the receptionist's desk. There he was, Mr Michael Smith. Damn, he was a supervisor; a building supervisor. That's like a janitor isn't it? He worked nights to do maintenance and supervise the cleaners I suppose. I was embarrassed. If that was trading up, what did that make me. My first guess of looking in the basement paid off. There was only one lit room down there and it revealed a dozing Michael Smith. Feet up on the desk.

I tapped him on the shoulder and he leapt up as if at Cape Canaveral. I fully intended giving him another kicking, but he looked so pathetic that I just didn't have the heart. He stared into my face, a look of terror blossoming like a flower on those sped up nature films. He voluntarily backed into a corner. Well my hands on his lapels helped. He said nothing, so I did.

"Hello Michael. Aren't you going to greet an old friend."

He latched on to one of my words.

"Friend?"

"Yes, of course. This is the fourth time we've met after all."

The recognition of my meaning spread across his face. I didn't know there was an expression beyond terror.

"Relax Mikey. Nothing is going to happen, unless you answer wrong to my next four questions. Understand?"

Nod.

"Are you going to report this meeting to the police?"

Shake.

"Are you going to tell Lisa about this meeting?"

Shake.

"Are you going to fuck another man's wife for as long as you live?"

Shake.

"Do you understand what will happen if you break this agreement?"

Very vigorous nod.

"Then our meeting is concluded. Have a nice, peaceful life."

With that public service complete, and the smell of urine in my nose, I caveman, carefully snuck out the way I came.

I'm happy to say I don't have a feckin clue when Lisa was evicted from Michael's salubrious apartment. Whether it was that night and she went to her mother's, or he was generous enough to put her up for the night. I figured she never knew I'd changed the locks, that would have triggered a worried phone call at some point, I'm sure. Talking of phone calls, I heard nothing that night or the next day. With no clues to go on, I had to take a punt on when she'd show. I got lucky.

It was after nine the next night that I heard a rattle, just like a key that no longer fit, being tried in a door lock. After almost a minute, the doorbell rang. I opened it in my dressing gown. There, of course, was Lisa. I don't know how I expected her to look, but it probably wasn't the well dressed, well made-up, but slightly apprehensive visage I was greeted with. When she stepped in for a kiss, I neatly side stepped and took her coat off for her. I invited her in like a guest and we moved in to sit at the kitchen table. There was really only one way for her to play this and I wasn't disappointed.

"So Lisa, what can I do for you?"

Deliberately wording this question like I would to a guest or customer was, well, deliberate. Wasted effort though.

"I have good news Dave. I've made my mind up and you'll love it."

She paused to look at the expression of eager anticipation on my face. Sorry I'm not that good an actor. I just continued to stare at her sadly. Seemingly unfazed, she continued.

"I was right about the new love thing. Once the novelty wore off with Michael, I realised I didn't really love him like I love you. Plus, I don't think he was really as well off as he led me to believe. After a few weeks he stopped spoiling me like he used to and asked me to cut down on what I was spending. On top of that he's had some, er, health issues. I stopped having sex with him six weeks ago, if that makes you feel better. I've had my discovery time now, got it out of my system and I've discovered that I want to recommit to you. Isn't that good news?"

Yup, exactly what I thought.

"Finally kicked you out did he?"

"I don't know what you mean Dave. I made up my mind last night and told him we were finished. It was too late to come here so I went to mum's."

"When did you discover lying was so easy Lisa. He kicked you out last night and thank fuck for that. I was getting a little sick of beating up the little bitch."

As I sat there rubbing my knuckles, I saw the dawn of realisation spread across Lisa's face. Three beatings, one car accident and a sudden changing of his commitment, took a while to process.

"Well, I'm back now David, so we can go back to how we used to be."

I laughed out loud at that. About 10 seconds later, Fiona came out of our bedroom. She had on only a pair of panties and one of my old tee shirts. I'll describe her for you. Fiona is only 22, owns a slim little body, topped by a way better than plain face. Even without make-up on she made Lisa look bad. Fiona said," Hiya," as she passed on her way to getting a glass from the cupboard, filled it with milk and walked out again. She gave me a peck on the cheek as she passed. Lisa said nothing but performed the best goldfish impression I've ever seen.

"Sorry about that Lisa, but I did suggest you rang before coming here. I didn't want you to find out like this, but it's not my fault you came around unannounced. Look at it like this though, now at least we don't have to sneak around behind your back. It's been going on for a while now."

Finally, Lisa rediscovered speech.

"You have a girlfriend?"

"Yes Lisa. When you left, I was pretty devastated; I took to drinking. I met a guy called Bluey down the pub and he told me I had self-esteem problems. He'd once done an adult education course in woodwork, so he seemed qualified to give advice. He assured me he'd learned something from all three of his ex-wives. Anyway, after I told him that I'd been spurned by someone out of my league, he said it was essential that I chat up a wide variety of girls to find out exactly what 'my league' was. Fiona is the third one I've tried. I know she's a little old, maybe a little plain and plump, but she seems happy to hang around with this mere tradesman. Her dad was only a Boilermaker."

I paused so Lisa could mentally compare her age, looks and figure to the vision of loveliness that was even now in her bed. That was all the time I gave her though.

"Yeah, she works, cooks, seems to like sex more than three times a week and is quite vocal while we're doing it. Oh, and she doesn't treat me like a beast of burden, who not only brings in all the household income but has to do his share of the household chores and gardening. I love her already, but it's a different kind of love to ours, fresher and more vibrant. I'm mature enough to realise that's maybe just because our love is newer, less stale."

If Lisa's face was anything to go by, her blood pressure was reaching dangerous levels.

"I didn't mean to fall in love with her, but I checked with Bluey and he said it was all right. My ego would still be repaired. My love for Fiona doesn't have to change what you and I have though. After all, I've been sleeping with her for four weeks now and you can't tell me you've noticed any difference in the way I've treated you can you?"

I have no idea how much of this irony was sinking in, but I felt it was all necessary if my plan was to succeed. I paused to get a clue as to how she was taking it. Not very well, apparently.

"I...I...I..."

"Fully agree with Bluey's advice. Well, that's a relief I can tell you. I wouldn't want to hurt you, you know that, but I haven't had time to fully explore my feelings for Fiona yet. Decide which of you I love the most, kind of thing. I'm not naïve enough to think that I'll be certain which way to decide after such a short time. I'll have to see. I promise to let you know my decision as soon as I make it. If you leave again, you'll see nothing has to change. I'm not silly enough to expect to have both of you long term. Please don't ask me to commit to a time frame. This is too important for that"

Confirmation that not all of my speech was sinking into Lisa's consciousness, came with her next statement.

"You...you can't expect me to live here with that...that trollop staying here. You're my husband Dave. Your wife is back now, so she'll have to go."

"Ah yes. Bluey warned me that you may take that line. He told me if you did, I was to assert myself. I know it's unreasonable to ask you to both share the house, so if you go back to your mother's, I'll let you know when I've reached a decision."

At that point, I took advantage of her complete perplexity, raised her to her feet and led her to the door. As I stood on the front step, handing over her purse and coat, I whispered in her ear, "Are you feeling my pain yet?" After shutting the door, it was a good 10 minutes before I heard her car drive away.

I wasn't at all prepared for what I found when I got home the following night. Lisa was cooking dinner, there was an invoice from a locksmith on the table and a new key, right next to a court order insisting she had every right to stay in the marital home. How was I to know one of her meditation group was a lawyer. In the few words we exchanged, it was obvious that Lisa's confidence had returned. Bugger. While she continued cooking, I moved her stuff out of my bedroom into the spare, before packing an overnight bag and leaving without a word. I had a couch and showers at work, so I could hide out there indefinitely. I ignored all phone calls.

I decided to go home the following night, after dinner. Lisa was watching TV. She tried to put her arms around me from behind as I made a cup of tea, but I span out of that. She asked me where her rings were and I' told her that this struggling tradesman had to sell them to make ends meet. She looked shocked at that and opened her mouth to say something, changed her mind and went back to the TV. I was a little surprised she was still in the spare room. For once I was a little unsure of her game plan. Assuming she had one of course.