The Dead and the Broken

Chapter 6 - No Grand Finale

James Applegate goes back indoors after watching Jack walk to his car, makes himself a cup of strong black tea and settles into his armchair. The worn and torn, quite frankly, manky armchair had been the only thing he already owned when he moved into this home over forty years ago and his attachment to it is stronger than the springs inside it, the only thing he ever had a real attachment to. He has aged gracefully, avoiding human contact and the stress of a job because of his 'severe arthritis'. His eloquence worked wonderfully on the council; they had deemed him unfit for work. So, he was able to live isolated, peacefully and innocently. His home accurately matched its owner, the floorboards as flat and creaky as his voice, the walls and curtains as dark as his soul. The floors are scattered with old and new newspapers but apart from that he keeps everything tidy as he does with the few remaining thinning hairs on his head. His kitchen as dull and dim as his eyes and face and as empty as his heart and the size of his home represents his size perfectly. A tiny place for a tiny man. 

At the age of eighty-eight and never having loved anyone in his life (his austere demeanour contributing highly to that), he couldn't understand it. He couldn't understand why anyone would want to be in a relationship with another person at all, let alone someone who makes them more miserable than life already does. His evening entertainment since Jack moved in almost four years ago would be the loud muffled voices above him, the occasional faint smash of something he assumed being thrown and the grand finale of the door being slammed – either the girlfriend storming out or Jack forcing her out himself. He could tell which was which by the sound of the slam – the louder ones would be Jack shoving her out and the pathetic ones would be by the girlfriend. He could never make out full sentences through the thick layer between their homes, but he would pick up words like, "bitch", "crazy fuck" "get out" and "psycho". The language would be appalling for his ears, but he enjoyed it all the same. 

Having spent most of his life alone after leaving his parents' house at seventeen, he didn't realise how bored of silence he had been until Jack had come along. He remembers never introducing himself until it was unavoidable. Once, when Jack parked his flash car in James's spot while he had popped out to the shops for more milk and that week's newspaper and returned to this shiny BMW sitting in his place. He knocked at his new neighbour's door and demand he move it. Jack did so without argument and a sincere apology which gave James a shiver of guilt for being so curt. Being alone for so long James's general manners had slowly melted away and he felt bad for being impolite. He had introduced himself and apologised to the kid and made acquaintances with him.

After that, they made pleasantries at the odd run-ins they had and a couple months after their first introduction, Jack was accompanied by a pretty blonde girl one evening. James was peeping out of his living room window at the neighbours across the road out of boredom when Jack pulled into the carpark and stepped out with a lady-friend. Pretty plain in James's opinion, didn't have a big chest to look at nor showing much skin to observe, but she seemed to fit Jack's style nicely. He spent about a month hearing creaking of bedframes and strange womanly noises, which James wasn't too keen on, but didn't really want to complain. He knew that's what humans do with each other; he had seen it in movies. 

Soon the arguments began. James was eating his dinner in front of the television one evening when he heard raised angry voices above him. That was new. He got rather excited about the drama and would even try and get close to the ceiling to hear better, but he nearly fell off his armchair once, so he never tried that again. He would listen to the aggression and maliciousness of the two kids and he would chuckle to himself at the stupid drama people put themselves in. He pitied them; they were addicted to the drama that would rip them apart from the inside.

However, much as James enjoyed the audible show, he couldn't help but notice the increased intensity and length of the arguments the past week. He would hear a lot more hysteria in the girl's voice and much more turbulence in Jack's. Even James got a funny feeling in his belly at the stifled cries of the girlfriend. He felt bad for her, she would shout for so long and Jack would reply with "get out" or "oh, please" and the girl would continue screaming. Something about "never cared" or "never loved" or "lost me", James thought it was probably "never loved me", James thought it was probably 'never loved me' but it was hard to tell most of the time. There was clearly something troubling the girl and Jack didn't seem to care at all. James was all for the drama and arguments to pass by his evenings, but he felt bad for her.  

Yesterday, the argument was early in the day and the grand finale never came. There was no slamming of the door to indicate who won this day's fight. It puzzled James and made him very uncomfortable. There was a couple of quick steps, quieter than usual though, as if one of them was tiptoeing and then nothing. He waited a little longer then ended up falling asleep in his armchair. He woke up late that evening and when he still heard nothing, he tried to decipher the words he had heard to decide the winner himself, to no avail. He got up at sunrise the next morning and decided he would wait to hear Jack coming down the stairs and ask him. He had to know. Could she have passed out from screaming so much? Could he have pushed her out the window? Or maybe, she pushed him out the window. That would be a plot twist. 

After the interaction, James couldn't accept Jack's answer. There's no way she left. He didn't hear someone coming down the stairs, he didn't hear the door slam, he didn't hear a conclusion to the argument, nothing. This gives James an unsettling rumble in his belly and his belly rumble always indicated something bad. Right now, his belly is telling him that something had happened last night. Maybe Jack did kill her. He hadn't seen Jack's face much over the years, but it looked different today than it ever had. He looked spaced-out, scared even. James had offered Jack the conversation in hopes he would come and confide in him and he would be able to get to the bottom of the new belly rumble. What if he did kill her? James thinks into the mug in his hands, will that make him a witness? Will police knock on his door? Will he have to speak to people? What if her parents come and ask questions? Does she have parents? Oh, God, what on Earth happened last night?