Revenge (Day 28)
Marcy had always loved the movie Home Alone, where a young boy, abandoned by his family when they left on vacation, holds off a pair of dimwitted robbers who break into his house. Hijinks ensues. It use to be a simple source of enjoyment, but in the last month it has shifted to being a source of inspiration. Ever since she found out that her husband had a mistress, she had secretly been planning her revenge.
She spent the first few nights crying, wondering what she did wrong that lead her man astray. She still kissed him on the cheek when he left after dinner to, “head back to the office and wrap up a few things.” After feeling sorry for herself, something snapped on the inside and she began plotting. Luckily, Brad had never wanted children, so there were no distractions when she starting setting her traps.
The garage door opened slowly, and as soon as there was enough clearance for his Miata to clear the door, he nudged the car forward. As soon as he crossed the sensor, the door started closing again. The crunch of metal nails scraping the hood made Brad wince, but he could only see the large metal frame pressing down on his precious car. The motor of the garage door opener strained against the thick chain until a large snap sent the chain flying through the air. Brad cursed loudly and got out of the trapped car, heading towards the front door as he fumbled with his keys.
The doormat was damp as his loafers squished into the thick weave. As he slid the first key into the deadbolt, it acted as a conduit for the electrical current running through the 5th pin of the cylinder. A slight zap could be heard for the door just before Brad screamed out. His muscles seized and his grip tightening on the key until the surge stopped, the hairs on the back of his neck prickly as they pointed toward the night sky. He struggled to take a breath and keep his footing, but he fell down to the ground, his briefcase spilling its contents onto the shrubbery.
He looked around him in time to see the skunk lifting it’s tail, covering his face and filling his mouth with its spray. His face contorted as he twisted his body, throwing up over the edge of the pavement. Thirty seconds passed before he pulled himself back up again, approaching the door with caution. The key wouldn’t budge and the door was still locked, so he tried ringing the doorbell, carefully. Ding dong. Nothing. He rang it again. Ding dong. He resorted to knocking on the door before pushing the button for a third time, but instead of a sound, the button depressed an inch into the wall before popping out and revealing a small note tucked into a compartment.
He pulled out the note which contained only a single word: Mailbox. Confused, Brad lifted the lid and pulled out the manila envelope. He unwrapped the string and opened the flap, pulling out a bundle of papers. Paperclipped to the front was a black and white photo of him and his mistress in the heat of passion. He yanked the photo away and read the heading of the first page: Summons for Divorce. He read the attached Post-it note written in his wife’s hand, “All of your stuff was donated to charity under the name, Cheating Husband.”
This is part of a 30 day series of 2-3 minute short stories written for the 30 days between Thanksgiving and Christmas, 2011. You can view all the stories in the Short Story A Day category.