2011 - INTRO

I did a very bad thing. But most everyone in my town does bad things. In a way I guess it’s how we survive out on this little island in the middle of the Pacific. We’ve earned the right to be jaded. Kailua. Our little town on the windward side of Oahu. Named one of the best beaches in the world by every online list or travel magazine that matters. Everyone seems to assume we’d all be carefree happy people living in paradise. How stressful could it be?  When you have the Pacific Ocean as your backyard and the temperature never dips below sixty degrees, what could ever be missing?  Island life…it can get boring quickly. And in a town with only 40,000 people, on an island only x square miles, things get boring. It’s the same sights, the same people, same places to eat, the same hiding spots, and we start to look for ways to make things a little more interesting. Shake things up.  Not because we are evil people, but because sometimes we need, even just once, for something to happen. Something different.

      I can’t count how many times after work I would walk down to the beach and my toes in the velvety soft sand of Kailua beach, start to relax for about 30 seconds, and then see at least twenty people I know.  Those neighborly Kailuans, with their gleaming smiles across their sun kissed cheeks, all with secrets hidden behind their friendly façades.  No matter what’s going on, it seems like it’s only matter of time before another neighborly Kailuan gets bored or frustrated, and gossips about “illicit” activity of someone else.  Then the accused has the fun job of trying to defend themselves as they are strung out and paraded before us, the Kailua “community”, on our community webpage KailuaKrimes.com. Let’s face it, it’s a nice feeling when someone else is “outed” as a bad person. It reminds us of how much better we are, validating our perfect, boring little lives.

   It’s imperative that I keep everything about tonight out of that webpage. Absolutely Everything. The last thing my family needs is to be thrown into the piranha pool of neighbors to be attacked for something I did, or didn’t do. If anyone were to find out what I’ve done tonight, I don’t want to imagine what would happen.

    On my way home and I have only a mile and a half to go. I don’t see any police warnings on my WAZE app, so in less than five minutes, I’ll be home.  The Jeep’s gurgling exhaust bounced off the rock walls lining the street and reverberated into the night as I closed in on our house. As I pull into my driveway off L’Orange Place, I silently curse at Kevin for shutting the gate. He knew I was coming home late! Our gate makes a loud creaking noise whenever we open or close it. I specifically reminded him not to shut it, since our elderly neighbor Mrs. Moore loves to make a fuss whenever we come home past nine and the grinding gears on the gate wake her up. Kevin explained it’s for security, due to all the break-ins in the town lately, but we still try to be respectful and only close it when neither of us are home.  Usually.  Either Kevin’s caught on to my evening yoga session, or he’s just being extra safe.  Just last week some chronics smashed our neighbor’s sliding glass door and stole an iPad out of the house as the owners slept, so maybe he’s just being safe.

   Either way, I can’t bring it up to him without acting guilty, so I’m going to have to just let it go. Hopefully Mr. & Mrs. Moore took out their hearing aids before bed and don’t hear me come in.

    I glanced at the Moore’s house as I turned my keys to open my front door. Their lights never flashed on, so I take a deep breath. I made it. I got away with it. All I need to do now is give Kevin the rundown of how relaxed evening yoga makes me feel after all the stress of work, and thank him for allowing me this time for myself.

   “There’s my kitten,” Kevin exclaimed, as he grabbed a bottle of Kona Longboard from the refrigerator. The only light in the kitchen was from the fridge, and his face glowed. He cracked open the beer against the bottle opener he installed under the cabinet.  As the bottle cap fell into the custom fitted collection bucket, he loudly clinked the glass bottle on the counter.

  I jumped. I wasn’t expecting him to be in there. There were five empty Longboard bottles already lined up on the counter. He was drunk. Again. On a Wednesday. I smile at him. I can play this game. He walks over to me and gives me a kiss.

  “Mmm, I missed you,” he sloppily tries to go for the open mouth. His breath reeked of beer and I’m not in the mood, especially after the night I’ve had. Lucky for me, he’s so drunk he can’t taste the alcohol on my mouth.

   I grab his arms then let my hands fall in his.  “Sorry honey, yoga’s got me so tired. I’d be a dead log.”

   “Come on, Kitten, I’ve missed you,” he begged. Kevin moved his hands around my butt and tried pulling me in again. I wiggled away.

   “Kevin, you know Jonah’s still having those night tremors. What if he comes up and sees us again? He’s starting to remember things now.”

   One night, when Jonah was three, he came upstairs and opened our bedroom door while we were in the middle of sex. My poor sweet son was having a nightmare, and wanted his mommy to hug him. Unfortunately, mommy was indisposed at the moment and a naked daddy threw on a towel and escorted the boy back to bed. The next day we received a letter from Jonah’s teacher stating that Jonah took his bottoms off, held his privates and said that’s what daddies do. We were warned that this was not acceptable Pre-K behavior, and if Jonah continued this “deviant behavior” we would need to find another school to enroll him in. Getting Jonah into the prestigious private school Kailua Prep meant a great deal to Kevin.  All I need to do is recall that incident and it’s an instant buzzkill.

   Kevin lets my hands go. His face drops slightly, defeated. He picks up his beer, taps it towards me and says, “Yes, m’am. Can’t have Jonah showing his junk again to Ms. Pratt. But really, Kitten, why are you such a tease? Coming home late all out of breath in those sexy tight Lululemons. Jonah won’t hear us. I’ll be quick.”

   “Tomorrow, I promise. I’m all gross and sweaty.” I slowly walk my way towards the bedroom. I desperately need a shower and bed. The sooner I can wash today away the better.   “Alright, meet you in bed,” he waved me off.  He slumped on the couch and unlocked his iPhone. A few swipes and taps later, he was off in his own little world.

  I turn the shower on as hot as I can handle it, then inch it a little hotter than that. The droplets burn my skin, but I continue standing underneath, sort of enjoying the pain. Pain I deserve for the stupid things I’ve done. Each drop feels like a slight pinprick, a punishment.  I sway, eyes closed, accepting my secrets. Oh, Lady Macbeth, you had it all wrong. You can’t wash away your sins. They become tattoos, marking you for life. You can hide them, but someone will catch a glimpse of them eventually. I finish up in the shower and get ready for bed.

  The alcohol buzz I once had has now transformed into a slight headache. Too many mai-tai’s. Somehow, I made it home and in bed without anyone wiser. Now, for the first time today, I can start to relax. Kevin will be up for at least another twenty minutes while he finishes his sixth beer. I took a Xanax, so I should be happily knocked out when he staggers in. God forbid I make any movements as he tucks into bed, or he could take it as an invitation for sex, and my body definitely can’t handle that right now.

   I woke up in a cold sweat. The blue green numerals on my alarm clock read 3:07AM.  Kevin’s spot next to me was empty. I reached out to his side of the bed and it felt cold. He must have passed out on the couch.  I didn’t care.  My drunk fool of a husband will be complaining of a stiff neck in the morning.  Oh well, at least I won’t have to have him getting all touchy while I’m trying to sleep. I turned over and readjusted my pillow, trying to fall back asleep. My mind kept racing, repeating the events of the night, over and over. Yes, I did a bad thing. But so far, I had gotten away with it.