s*x Magick

Chapter 4

It was now five o"clock in the afternoon. Back at Jim"s house, little Collin returned from his friend"s house. See how uneventful and boring Jim"s day was in comparison to Daren"s?

Collin returning home served as a cue for the family to put on their jackets and head out to Big Boy"s Beef and Ribs for dinner. For nearly 20 years, Big Boy"s Beef and Ribs has served Mapleview and surrounding areas, offering the finest grilled menu items. Patrons return again and again for their favorite burgers, Italian beef or sausage sandwiches, grilled chicken, barbecued ribs and even steaks. If it"s grilled meat you crave, then Big Boy"s Beef and Ribs is the place to visit for lunch or dinner.

Suddenly, Jim"s quiet Saturday wasn"t so uneventful. While parading through the parking lot with his family up to the restaurant, Jim spotted and soon locked eyes with Amber through one of the windows! What was she doing there? How could she have possibly known that Jim and his family were to eat dinner that night at Big Boy"s Beef and Ribs? It had to be coincidence! Trista sat at the same table across from Amber. And from the moment that Amber recognized Jim, she put on an expression that certainly conveyed her scorn. Apparently Amber was a little more than disappointed for being “blown off” for the afternoon.

This was not good! Could Jim suggest eating Saturday dinner at some other place? But why would he suddenly wish to eat elsewhere? It was best to hold his breath and play it by ear. Hopefully Amber would follow the proper rules of engagement for a situation like this.

All appeared to go according to expectation during the first several minutes in the restaurant. After ordering their meals at the counter, Jim and his family migrated towards the dining area. It was Jim"s intention to sit somewhat near Amber and her daughter"s table as an indicator that he still cared. But then Kimberly softly urged, “Let"s sit over here.”

The seat Kimberly chose was near the entrance door. Being October, it would have brought with it chilled air as patrons entered and exited the establishment. Jim brought this to his wife"s attention. “Are you sure? There"s a better seat over there.”

But “over there” was closer to that woman. Kimberly had a strong dislike and an irrational hatred towards the very person that Jim secretly shared a taboo relationship with. Again, she softly urged, “Let"s just sit here, Jim. I don"t want to sit over there. I don"t like that woman. She reminds me of a witch.”

Ah, but despite how softly Kimberly mentioned this, Amber overheard it! Jim could see it in Amber"s eyes, the shock and resentment of such cruel name-calling. How could he have allowed Kimberly to speak that way about her?

Still, Jim remained loyal to his wife. Feeling it best to follow her wishes, Jim pulled out a chair and sat at the table of Kimberly"s preference. April and Collin followed. Soon the large, plastic, white number-ticket had been inserted in the wire stand. This would help a waitress locate the appropriate table as the same number would be printed on the receipt.

And then Jim sat there, silently, watching the kids take sips from their sodas and chat about the happy highlights of their afternoon. Of course his mind and heart were racing with the presence of his mistress and her daughter in the restaurant. In the distance, Amber glared with her fierce eyes. Nobody called her a witch and got away with it. And no man was to treat her as second best, dust her off the shelf when needed and place her back at will.

It was coming! Amber"s negative emotions began to spark and discharge into the air. What to do with them was a different matter. Surely they would soon be injected in some terrible fantasy and bring much misfortune to a happy, loving family.

* * *

Back at the Trivelli House, Mary had just handed the Android-style smart phone back to Daren and sighed. “The police say it"s not necessary to come here.”

“What?”

“I guess Detective Tom wants us to put Grandma Trivelli to rest and place her in one of the crypts of your mausoleum.”

A look of near delight suddenly stretched across Daren"s face. “Really? Sure, we can put Grandma Trivelli in the mausoleum. Do you want to come with and say your goodbye?”

Mary didn"t see the new storage of Grandma Trivelli"s dismembered head as a proper funeral and burial. The mausoleum was just a means of disposal. Aside from that, who knows how many more times a piece of Grandma Trivelli would surface in the future? “No, Daren!” Mary answered. “Just put her in there like the detective said.”

Alone, Daren carried the heavy, oversized, cobalt-blue jar down the stairs of the wooden deck and across the backyard until reaching the entryway of the mausoleum. It was necessary to set the jar on the grass before reaching for the keys in his front pocket. Once the thick, iron doors had been unlocked and opened, he flipped the light switch inside. The building was just like any small, family mausoleum; except it lacked decaying occupants. A lightly-stained, wooden bench was mounted to the center floor; two lit sconces affixed to the rear-wall; and empty, closed crypts took up the sidewalls of the building. Grandma Trivelli was carried inside and temporarily placed on the wooden bench so Daren could open one of the empty crypts. But then curiosity overtook Daren. He never did get a chance to fully examine the face of Grandma Trivelli.

The word Grandma might bring to mind images of a decrepit, old woman. But Grandma Trivelli was murdered at a young age. In those days, it was common for people to marry at a young age—sometimes as young as sixteen-years-old. Grandma Trivelli had her first child, a daughter, at the age of eighteen. Being that this daughter was thirteen on the supposed night of the disappearance, Grandma Trivelli would have been thirty-one and still very young.

These facts were apparent to Daren as he held the heavy, oversized jar in front of the illuminated sconce. It provided enough light for him to see the young and beautiful face of Grandma Trivelli. She looked so much like his own Mary, sleeping soundly in the early morning light. Daren assumed her voice sounded just like Mary"s as she most-likely made the same facial expressions or exhibited the same occasional, quirky behavior. What was wrong with Grandpa Trivelli? How could he have murdered this beautiful woman in such a brutal way?

Well she belonged to Daren, now. Grandpa Trivelli certainly didn"t deserve this woman. Daren would care for her and give her the best crypt in the mausoleum, right next to his favorite one. Speaking of which, Daren set the jar back down on the bench and opened his favorite crypt that was closest to the door and on the left wall (left if entering the building). Inside was a cooler that contained partially thawed ice and about a dozen bottles of his favorite, imported beer. Working so hard that afternoon, Daren certainly deserved a cold one. Cracking open the family mausoleum and then cracking open a cold one was a favorite activity of Daren"s since having the building constructed.

After taking a few guzzles from the bottle; he set the beer on the corner of the floor and opened the crypt that would soon be Grandma Trivelli"s. The oversized, heavy cobalt-blue jar was set inside. Daren finished his beer while admiring the new addition to the family mausoleum. Then he closed and locked Grandma Trivelli"s crypt.