Jigsaw Puzzle : Part 4
Story By Thiyam Ningol, Africa
*
Mercy had been waiting for this moment. She didn't have time to change her cloths; she was still wearing the marriage gown. Quickly she pulled out the bed sheet. Climbed on the chair, tied one end of the sheet on the ceiling fan and the other end around her neck and kicked away the chair.
She got liberated from the possession by the devil.
Martin went to the sofa to lie down. He could not sleep any more. He played back the happenings in his mind in slow motion. He stood up and started pacing up and down in the living room. Helen felt the strangeness and woke up. She found her husband very restless, pacing in the room.
She greeted him and without waiting for an answer, went to start preparing the routine morning choir. She lighted the kerosene stove and put water for tea. Through the corner of her eye, she stole few glances towards her husband. She thought it must be the effects of the last night's commotion. Decided not to ask anything.
Martin felt far remorse but there was some trace of satisfaction as well. One time or the other that had to happen, he consoled himself. He thought he would apologize to his mother in the evening when he comes back from work.
Both, Martin and Helen were ready for taking breakfast. Helen called out Mercy to join them for breakfast but no answer came. She repeated two three times- no answer. She was about to get up from the chair when Martin pushed her down and said he would go to check. After few seconds, Helen heard Martin screaming.
She rushed to Mercy's room and there she saw Mercy hanging on the ceiling fan with the white bed sheet around her neck, the white marriage gown fluttering with the wind. While she was still confused and looking at Mercy, she did not notice Martin leaving the place.
Moments after she heard the loud "bang" coming from their bedroom. She shouted
"What it is it" and rushed to their room. There she found Martin fallen on the floor, blood flowing from the right side of his head, with the smoking pistol in his right hand. Mercy screamed and screamed hysterically, frantically jumping and beating her head and chest.
The neighbours heard her screams. From all directions people rushed to their house and everybody saw what Helen saw.
Some gasped, some screamed, some were trying to calm down the crowd. One man took control, he pulled out Helen from inside the house, chased away everybody outside and told to stay away till police came. He told Helen not to talk to anybody but wait for the police. Helen was still hysteric, some women supported her and took to the neighbouring house. There she fainted.
The funeral ceremonies were over. The gossip in the township had died down. Relatives had returned back to their places. Helen was given company by her mother, staying with her.
Police had completed taking statements from Helen. They had given her the date to come and collect some personnel belongings of her late husband from his office.
Helen was wondering whether to mention about the sensitive documents or not to the police. But as they did not ask about it, she decided to keep her husband's secrets intact.
One night while her mother had already gone to sleep, Helen was correcting the examination papers of her students, she thought about the sensitive papers. She thought even if she checked the papers, nobody would know she was the one who opened it.
Many things in the house had been misplaced, some got lost during the days when they were having all the visitors. She was not even sure in which corner, the metallic box was pushed.
There were not many corners to look for and the object was not a small one, difficult to find. So she decided to inspect before it was too late. She left the students' examination papers and started searching for the box. She found it in the kitchen shelf.
She wiped off the dust, put it on the table. Took a long breath. Took the bunch of keys out and started trying to open it. The first two keys did not work. The third key flipped and the lock opened, the contents of the box revealed.
Most of the photos had the body of young females, paper clips from the magazines and journals. In all the photos, Martin had removed the original faces of the pictures and patched with his mother's photos. There were many nude pictures, some with animalistic poses, true horrific pictures.
After getting refreshed, she sat down and started recollecting the happenings of that particular day. The pieces of the puzzle were starting to fit in the exact places.
The pictures were the proof that Martin was a very sick man. He had been imagining all these years about his mother in the form of his wife. He had been having mental sex with his mother. That was why he had never even touched her, his wife. Mercy was his wife, not mother, according to the pictures.
Helen knew then why the commotion of that day, why Mercy was wearing the marriage gown, why she committed suicide. She felt sorry for her mother in law. She then collected all the pictures neatly and stacked them in an envelope, put it back in the box, and locked it securely.
It was already 2 AM in the morning. No slightest sign of sleepiness. She was not feeling tired either. As Martin had called it "sensitive papers", Helen realized how sensitive it was in the real sense. She would not like to discuss about those photos with her mother, she would not understand and would not contribute any constructive ideas. She would prefer her elder sister but her husband was another nuisance to the family. Once he takes some alcohol, he would become completely out of control.
Helen decided to wait and watch.
The police department promised her to help in legalizing the property she inherited as the widow of her late husband. If everything was going to happen as she was promised, then the photos would disappear without traces from the surface of earth, Helen vowed. .
She yawned twice, thrice. At last she realized she was feeling sleepy. Instead of disturbing her mother's calm sleep, she walked to the sofa, stretched herself and within minutes felt asleep, the sweetest sleep since she got married.
Concluded...
* Story By Thiyam Ningol, Africa
The writer can be contacted at mugusi(dot)nalini(at)gmail(dot)com
This article was posted on February 05, 2015.
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