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“I’m tired of your drinking, Clarence, damn tired of it.” Geraldine shouted. Clarence turned the whiskey bottle up despite Geraldine’s protests, even took an extra large swig, and rolled his eyes at his wrinkled, bony wife of thirty-eight years. “My daddy told me not to marry a coal miner, but I just didn’t listen did I?” Clarence glared at her, his eyes glassy, and filled with silent contempt. The fact was that coal mining had supplied them with a good life, a nice home, reliable vehicles, but ultimately it had rendered Clarence powerless with black lung as he drank away what was left of his dissolving liver. Despite it all, Geraldine showed him no mercy, even as he withered away hour by hour, minute by minute, second by second. She remained relentless, as she had been for most of their long, enduring marriage. “I could have married a business man or a banker you know. Don’t ever think for one second those type of men were not interested in me.” Geraldine screamed The old man stared at the floor, bewildered at how the verbal jabs still penetrated his thickened skin, poisoning his heart until he felt dark and empty inside. Still he remained mute, pretending to be unaffected. He contemplated a response, searching his mind, but reconsidered. His words never came out right, not anymore. Besides they both knew all too well that men like that had been interested in Geraldine, and she had been receptive to their advances on several occasions. Clarence wondered if she realized he knew of those encounters, or if she even cared. It would probably please her to know she had caused him heartache and so he said nothing of it. What did it matter now? Clarence turned the bottle up yet another time and the burn of the alcohol tickled his throat and found it’s way into his stomach. Drinking was his only means of escape, and probably the reason Geraldine despised it so. “Damn it old man, say something, hell say anything.” Geraldine demanded slamming her fist down and cracking the antique wooden coffee table given to them by Clarence’s mother many years earlier. Maybe a decade before this would have infuriated him and he would have displayed his anger, maybe grabbing her and shaking the life out of her, but he had no strength for it now. Instead only a sigh signaled he even grasped the reality of what had just happened. He followed up this small acknowledgement with a haggard cough. “I hope you choke. she exclaimed gleefully. I wish you would just die.” Clarence shared her sentiments and shook his head slowly in agreement. She loathed when their thoughts were in accordance and so she spoke out again, even more defiantly. “No you mustn’t die, that would be too easy, yes indeed. We’ll both live forever. she beamed. And I’ll be on your ass for all eternity.” she said smiling, displaying a few remaining rotted teeth. This revelation scared Clarence most, despite the fact he had known it all along. He had had enough for today and he raised up out of his old rocker and headed for the bedroom. His bones cracked as he stepped and he winced in pain. Once there, he opened the top dresser drawer and there the revolver rested underneath his boxer shorts. He remembered the day he bought it, so long ago. He opened the chamber and noticed the two dulled gold bullets. He would need only one. Geraldine came at him, cursing and swearing with every step. Clarence held the gun steady, closed one eye and fired a clean shot right between the eyes. Geraldine dropped right where she stood, smoke evading the hole in her head. He stood over her , admiring his marksmanship. “I love you.” he whispered. She would be back. She always came back. But for now the quiet felt nice and Clarence felt so good that he started to whistle the old tune they had played at their wedding. He couldn’t remember the name, so much he had forgotten, yet so much he could not forget. He left the room, headed for the kitchen knowing he’d need another bottle in him before Geraldine made her return.
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