How did I come to this point in time in my life? Was it fate? Was it unseen forces that I couldn’t control?
I was wrestling with a demon that I couldn’t silence. Dark horrific thoughts were flashing through my mind.
I was about to descend a stairwell into a dark cellar. And there would be no way to return. I would be lost.
I remember listening to a preacher, and he said, “The road to God’s Heavenly Kingdom is fraught with danger. Don’t lose Eternity for what amounts to not even a second in this world.”
Thou Shalt Not Kill.
I pulled the car over and started crying. I never cry. It seemed to me that through my tears I was rinsing out the darkness. The poison.
Since I was a little boy… I always prayed to Jesus for help.
My mom taught me, Mt. 11: 28–30 “Come to Me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is comfortable, and My burden is light.”
I finally arrived at the hotel and registered.
I was feeling better. Much better.
I don’t know why but praying and driving has always been very therapeutic for me. It calms me down.
I was thinking more clearly now.
It was a terrible storm, but I could now see a ray of sunshine breaking through the darkened clouds.
The ray of sunshine? I was still a young enough man to find someone else.
I was at the hotel for several hours and then my cell phone rang.
It sounded like it was screeching as the ringing sound broke through the silence of the room and disturbed my thoughts.
It was May. She found the soap dish.
I asked, “Where was it?”
“It was under a pile of my old shoes.”
“How did it get there?”
“I don’t know.”
I knew she was lying but I didn’t say anything.
I realized at that time that I had important documents in my home for my business and other correspondence that I needed.
I also realized that I had to get my charger. My phone’s battery looked like it was on life support.
I drove home and when I entered my house May was standing there. She asked, “Where’s your bag?”
I replied, in a hostile tone, “Where’s the soap dish?”
She handed it to me, and I looked at it momentarily and handed it back to her. I told her, “Open it.”
She opened it and saw the note: “ADULTERER.”
She also saw the photo of her and Jeffrey… naked and in bed.
She was stunned. And her face lit up. It was a bright red.
She was speechless.
I went upstairs and started retrieving important papers that I needed. And my charger.
As I was leaving May was pleading with me to forgive her. I had already forgiven her. I did forgive her. But how could I ever trust her again? Our marriage was over.
She was blocking the doorway. She wouldn’t let me leave.
She was on the phone with Jeffrey begging him to come over and talk some sense into me. That they were both sorry. It happened a long time ago.
I felt like grabbing a hold of May and choking the life out of her.
I didn’t.
I took her cell phone away and flung it across the room. It went through the window.
She was so startled by that and the glass window breaking, that she cowered in front of the door and put her hands up to cover her face. She thought I was going to strike her.
I smiled at her contemptuously and pushed her out of my way. And left.
I didn’t even bother to look back.
I never look back.
With me… once bitten, twice shy. And I never get bitten twice. I don’t give anyone a second opportunity to hurt me. And I won’t give May that chance either.
Did you buy it?
Did you buy the story?
That story sounds pretty good. It really does. One of my better ones. Maybe if I tell it to myself enough times, I’ll come to believe it.
Don’t we all skillfully construct stories that support a fake narrative of our lives? For those of us that are without hope… we can only cling to our delusions. We dream dreams.
We wouldn’t dare recognize the truth even if we tripped over it. For we know what the truth is and where it ultimately leads… for us it’s a doorway into madness. A padded room in a psychiatric cell.
Fake stories lessen the horror.
I hope you bought the story. It was one of my better ones.
The story will be continued in The Soap Dish 4
Photo by Stefano Pollio on Unsplash
Fictional stories by John Saccone 
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