Day 292 – The Salesman – Part 5

Word count: 614

“What?” Brian was taken aback.
“My husband’s current wife, specifically. Maybe him himself, I haven’t yet decided.”
“You’re …. Mad?”
“Perhaps, but I’d say more bitter – would you like tea or coffee, my dear?”
The woman was acting as if it were a perfectly normal request.
“I’m sorry, I think I’m going to have to go?”
“Leave? But I haven’t told you their address – why even their names yet, stay and have some tea, you like tea don’t you? My husband liked tea.”
“Listen, I’m going to call you a doctor, okay? I think you need some help.”
“Help? I feel perfectly fine. Here you go, a nice cup of tea with a sly biscuit on the side…” she smiled at him, all dentures and pale lips.
“No, no thank you,” he pushed it away, not knowing what kinds of chemicals it had been mixed with.
“But I made it just for – oh you’re anxious?”
Brian made an attempt to get up, “No, not at all,” he was sweating with anxiousness. She might be an aging old black widow…
“Sit down my dear, sit down… let me explain, it’s very simple.”
“Oh I think I get it, ma’am.”
“Please sit down, you’re going to make me awfully upset,” she begged him.
But Brian was already nearing the front door.
“Thank you for your time, ma’am, take… care…”
He turned the handle. It was locked. Was this seriously happening to him.
“It’s simple, sir. All you need to do is kill Elizabeth Tanner and in exchange, I’ll give you twenty-five thousand dollars.”
“Err…” Brian had no idea how to respond to that. He was wondering if he could try dialling 911 in his pocket.
“Is that not enough? What about thirty? I can do thirty?”
“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I’m not in that trade, ma’am, perhaps you should look elsewhere? Online perhaps?”
“I’ve tried. Far too expensive, but you look cheap – if you don’t mind me saying. Of course, I won’t cover any legal fees. You have to make sure you don’t get caught, else I’ll have to deny all knowledge.”
Brian was cornered. She was stepping towards him in her slippers like a deranged granny. It wasn’t funny, but it was. It was strange surreal and he wished that his wife would be at home when he got back so he could tell her all about it. It was fantastic, but he still could not get out door.
“I think I’m going to have to pass, sorry,” Brian apologised. “I’m just not that confident that I’ll be able to do the job properly, does that make sense?”
He was trying to play the game her way. He waited in suspense for her next move.
“Alright dear, well if you change your mind…”
“Thanks, I’ll come back.”
She leaned in behind him to open the front door and let him out. Brian stepped around her carefully as if she were some form of pressure-engaged explosive.
“It’s good money, if you can get away with it!” she waved goodbye to him all the way to the car.
It would have been awkward to go on to the next house. Instead, Brian got in his car and drove half way down the street. He was laughing all the way; he could barely drive he was chuckling so much. An old woman had asked him – who could only hit one in a hundred baskets at basketball – to be a hitman. To kill her husband’s wife.
He supposed he should call the police and report her, but the poor thing shouldn’t die in prison over some senile delusion. Brian smiled to himself; thirty thousand wasn’t a bad price though.

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~ by S.G. Mark on July 25, 2012.

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