| Cheating © Joshua Scribner
“You've not done anything wrong yet,” Clifford told himself as he pulled into the driveway. “Stop feeling guilty.”
Still, the knot in his gut went with him as he walked to the front door of his home. He let himself in and found Tulip dusting knickknacks on a shelf in the living room. She was a petite woman with the kind of brown eyes that could melt the hearts of most men.
He walked up, turned her and kissed her on the lips.
“Sorry I'm so late. I got held up at the office.”
“Not to worry, my dear. I know what you've been up to.”
The guilt was drowned in a tidal wave of panic. He focused all his energy on not showing his angst, and he managed not to raise his voice or trip on his words.
“What do you mean?”
She smiled and returned to dusting. She seemed way more intent on that than on the conversation at hand. She finally said, “I know you're thinking about cheating.”
Thoughts rushed through his head as he retraced the events of that day. He had not done anything close to cheating, just flirted and found reasons to hang around the office late so he could continue to flirt and gage the reactions of the woman flirting back with him. The two of them had been the only ones there.
“Don't be nuts. You know I'd never . . .”
“Yeah, you would. You just don't know it yet.”
It was time to get angry. She had nothing on him. He was planning his emotional act when she said, “Don't worry, though. There's only been one person who cheated on me, and after going through that, I made up my mind never to let it happen again.”
She put down her duster and hugged him. “I love you,” she said. “I refuse to lose your faithfulness.”
He hugged her back. “You have nothing to worry about.”
She smirked. “That's what they all say.”
He started to say something else, but decided to let it go.
###
Clifford awoke to the sound of a man screaming. He tried to open his eyes but couldn't. He tried to sit up but couldn't do that either. He did a kind of search and found no part of his body that would respond for him. Then he noted that he wasn't breathing. He could kind of sense air, but he wasn't moving it in and out. Strangely, that didn't bother him. He began to suspect he was dreaming. He needed only lie there and wait to wake up.
Minutes past, and he could still hear the man's cries, and other things were happening. Vision was coming. Silhouettes were forming in the darkness. He was starting to sense his body better. It was very tight, not like a strong man's body, or a cramping body, but like an actual rock.
More light was coming in his vision. Strangely enough, what he was seeing looked vaguely familiar. His body began to hurt in a way he'd never felt before, and the pain was quickly becoming too intense.
He struggled to move again, concentrating on escaping the pain. He felt as if he could use the pain like a springboard. He pushed and sprung away from his hardened body.
He was in some kind of spiritual form. The images became clear, but they were hard to believe. He was looking at his living room from above. The source of the screaming was above and behind him. Before he could look for it, he heard another voice.
“Hello, Clifford. Welcome to the shelf.”
Clifford turned to see a familiar sight from a strange perspective. He was looking at his wife's favorite knickknack shelf. It was line of miniature gnomes. There was a new gnome there. He was attached to it by a short string of light. He could feel the gnome pulling him.
The same voice spoke again. “My name is Lucas Freely.”
The gnome the voice had come from had not moved. Clifford wasn't even sure he could speak yet, but he gave it a try.
“Lucas Freely, the guy she dated in high school?”
“Yes, sir, and the second oldest of the collection. I'll be showing you the ropes.”
“I'll be helping,” said another voice. “My name is Peter Harod.”
She'd mentioned him too. They'd dated in college.
“Yes, Peter. You'll help, but we'll get to all the introductions later. First, we need to give him a sort of overview.”
“I agree,” said Peter. “Get on with it.”
“Good. First rule: Don't try to force the string. Go only as far as it will let you. You're going to have to spend time in your porcelain body and pulling on the string can make that very uncomfortable. Isn't that right, Lane?”
“Yes, very true,” said Lane, another guy she'd dated in college.
Clifford looked at the gnome Lane's voice had come from. He recognized it. It was the one with the big crack.
Lucus continued. “You no doubt felt pain coming into your knickknack body. That will go away, but as Lane can tell you, you will feel the consequences of your actions. If you prove yourself trustworthy, the line will be extended. You may even get to be a spy for her and catch the next man before he cheats.”
Clifford was not only horrified. He was furious.
“You told her! You told her I was going to cheat!”
Lucus laughed. “Yes, Clifford, and you should be thankful. Every gnome on this shelf, even the ones with nicks and scratches for breaking the rules, will agree that the best thing that ever happened to them was being caught before they cheated. You see, our Tulip has ways of rewarding us for being good, pleasures you've not even imagined yet, but she also has ways of punishing us.”
The gnome laughed again and so did many others, and then Lucus spoke again.
“Do you hear the crier? He's the oldest of the collection. She only puts him out when we welcome a new member. Your string is just long enough to go one shelf up and take a look. Go ahead.”
Clifford didn't know if he wanted to look. He waited for nearly a minute, hearing only the sound of the screaming man. He knew he had to go see.
He found he could float just fine. He went until his string was taut and looked over what was on the top shelf. There was a gnome there, and David thought he knew the name of it.
“David Troy. You were the one who cheated.”
David didn't respond. Clifford suspected that was because he was in too much pain. He was strapped to the top of a candle jar, and the wick was lit.
Joshua Scribner is the author of the novels Mantis Nights, The Coma Lights and Nescata . His fiction won both second and fifth place in the 2008 Whispering Spirits Flash Fiction contest. Up to date information on his work can be found at joshuascribner.com. Joshua currently lives in Michigan with his wife and two daughters. |