Anthony A.

Castro about 2,200 words

1D Oak Crest Court
Novato, CA 94947
(415)897-0305
Tcastro09@comcast.net

Envy

By A. A. Castro

I. Charlie’s Story

Swisshh…THUNK!

“Why…”

Swisshh…THUNK!

“…won’t…”

Swisshh…THUNK!

“…he FIT?!?”

I kicked in his knee and he finally dropped down the well. Goddamn it, even dead he’s a pain in

the ass. Now he’s at the bottom of that well and he can just rot down there for all I care. Actually…

that’s all he’s ever gonna do.

I’ve got to get back to my pickup and get back home. I’m sure Irma’s wondering where her

future husband has run off to. I’ve been working on her, doing the whole Iago thing, planting the seeds
of jealousy. I was hoping it would be enough for her to call off the wedding but that whole plan went to

hell. I’ll just use it to convince her Alan skipped out on her.

Alan. Alan goddamn high-and-mighty scum-sucking son of a bitch Branch. I still hate you. I’ve

hated you ever since we were five years old, since the day your parents moved next door. You’ve

always been there, dogging me, making me look bad, always having to do me one better. I was top dog

in the neighborhood, best student, my dad was already training me to be a pitcher until you showed up

and put an end to it all. Well, not the pitcher training, not completely at least.

Everything I did, you had to do better. I was tall, but you were taller. I had a decent fastball, but

you could hit home runs almost at will. I was a pretty good blocking tight end, but you broke all the

school’s touchdown records when they put you at quarterback.

And the day the scouts from New York came to see us in the state baseball championship? You

went 4-for-5 with seven RBI’s and two home runs. I made two errors, got called for a balk and gave up

three runs. You got the minor-league contract and the Ivy League scholarship that should have been

mine.

I was happy, no, scratch that. I was fuckin’ ecstatic the day your Mom told me you were going

straight to New York after graduation. You weren’t going to play for the Yankees but you did have a job

in some investment firm. Your Mom was so proud of you, she went on and on about how you were so

brilliant and how you were going to get rich. I honestly didn’t give a shit about any of that – I was just

damn glad you weren’t coming back.

I tried to help Irma get over you. It took me almost twelve years, twelve goddamn years of

listening to her mooning about you when she had me right there, goddamn it, right there! No, no…calm

down. Deep breaths. Easy does it…be cool, boy, be cool. Gotta act surprised when Irma tells me you’ve

disappeared.
 Everyone in town knows I’ve been in love with Irma since, well, since I was five years old.

Problem was, so was Alan. But knowing that preening selfish ass as I do, he was probably saying it

because I told him I liked her. I think he enjoyed taking away all the stuff I wanted.

So Alan went off and got rich in New York, as his Mom was constantly reminding everybody. I

didn’t get the scholarship or the contract. I went to State on a Pell grant and a shitload of student loans

and came back to be the town vet…and also to be close to Irma.

God, she’s beautiful. Her hair is blonde and long, her eyes are green with flecks of gold. She

doesn’t wear perfume but there’s a scent to her that’s heavenly. She’s smart and funny and sexy and it

all started to fall apart at the Harvest Ball a couple of weeks ago. I couldn’t take it anymore. Twelve

years is a hell of a long time to wait; I broke down, told her I loved her and always had and would she

marry me.

She kissed me. “Charlie, I…”

“Yeah?”

“I…have to think…I need time! I’m sorry, Charlie but I’ve gotta go!”

She left me standing there in the moonlight. I could see her hair bobbing up and down as she

half-ran away. I’m such an idiot…I rushed things and ruined everything. No, not everything. That didn’t

happen until he showed up two days later.

I walked into the diner and there he was, the devil in the flesh, at least my personal devil. Alan

Branch, an inch taller than me, better hair, better teeth, expensive Italian suit, the only being I’ve ever

truly loathed. Rubbing his success like an oily rag all over my face.

I smiled even though I just wanted to snap his neck. “Alan…Alan! Hey, old buddy, when did you

get back? Damn, it’s good to see you again!”

 He smiled back. His teeth were the whitest I’d ever seen and perfectly shaped; I wondered how

much he got overcharged for that job. “Charlie! My wingman and trusty compadre! Oh man, I’ve

missed you, buddy…It’s good to be back home!” He hugged me and pounded my back.

Oh, shit. “So…Alan, how long are you going to be in town, man? Couple of weeks, see how your

Mom is, maybe going hunting, hey?”

“No…no, I’m not visiting. I’m moving back, Charlie.”

Oh, God no. “Th-that’s great, Alan…” I tried to keep my smile pasted on but I could feel it

slipping away. My breakfast felt like it was coming up on me – I had to get the hell out of there. I

mumbled goodbye and ran out of the diner.

I threw up in the alley around the corner. I couldn’t believe it, I just couldn’t believe it. Just

when it looked like things were finally going my way he had to come crawling back. I thought of Irma…

Irma and Alan back together. I threw up some more.

That night, I spent hours in the back chopping wood. It helps to calm me down sometimes.

Maybe it’s the mechanical nature of the work or just the satisfaction of seeing the axe bite into and tear

the wood apart…I don’t know. I just know it works.

Five days later, Irma called me. She wanted to see me, needed to talk she said. I knew what

was coming. We went out to dinner, a little Italian place down the interstate. I think she picked it

because she knows I hate making a scene in public.

I was calm. I even smiled and pretended to be happy for her and Alan. Under the table, my

hands were clenched – all I wanted to do was smash them into that asshole’s face and fuck up his good

looks. Irma kept yammering on about how Alan had realized that he’d always loved her, how he was so

unhappy in New York, the money and the prestige meant nothing without her…blah, blah, blah.
 And then she told me they were getting married in a month. I swear, I deserve an Oscar for how

I acted that night. It’s all kind of a blur, really, but I remember that I bought a round for everyone in the

restaurant.

I went back to chopping wood that night. It was dawn when I finally stopped; my biceps felt

tired and sore. That’s when I decided that I couldn’t let this happen, I couldn’t let Alan fuck up my plans

once more. I couldn’t let him take Irma.

That’s why I told Alan to come up to the cabin by the lake. It’s been our party spot since high

school, a good three miles from town and no neighbors.

I spent the afternoon oiling and sharpening my axe. It needed it after all the work I’ve been

giving it. Once I was done, I sat back on the porch with a beer and waited. It was still a good couple of

hours before it got dark, and I knew Alan wouldn’t be along until then. He was seeing Irma first…

I banged my head against the railing. I’ve got to stop thinking about them together; it just

makes it worse. But I just can’t; the thought of Irma in his arms, kissing him, caressing and making love

to him…I made sure the axe was handy.

It’d been dark for about half an hour when I heard him drive up. I was sitting on the porch with

no lights on. “Hey, Charlie, I’m here…I’ve got beer, man, where’re the lights?”

I flicked the switch. “I’m right here, Alan…what took you so long, buddy?” I knew damn well

what had taken him so long. As he got closer, I could smell her scent on him. He was saying something,

I don’t know what. Smelling her sex on him was the final drop.

Alan was coming up the porch stairs. He crossed in front of me, his hand reaching for the front

door. That’s when I grabbed the axe by the chair. He never saw me. All he heard was a swishing sound.

All I saw was the blade splitting the top of his skull.
 I felt so calm. Everything was falling into place. Alan was at my feet, his head in two pieces,

deader than last week’s roadkill. Stupid idiot, he never even noticed that he was standing on a plastic

tarp. I just wrapped him up and hauled him away. And I didn’t even leave any bloodstains.

I had to chop him up some more to get him down the well, but I got it done. I reached into the

glove compartment and pulled out the pack of cigarettes I’ve kept there since I quit a year ago.

Goddamn, that smoke sure tasted good.

Alan’s gone now. Good riddance to fuckin’ assholes. I’m going to Irma’s now, to console her

and be her pillar of strength. I’ll convince her that Alan just ran off and dumped her, just like last time.

She’ll be mine now. I know she’ll be mine.

She’d better be.

II. Alan’s Story

Broken. Chopped. Bleeding. I am at the bottom of the well. Charlie did this to me. My best

friend. It hurts. Everywhere, it hurts. I can’t move. I can’t (?) breathe. But I can think…am I dead?

He killed me. For Irma. Always knew he loved her, never cared. Since we were kids. Always

competed for everything, even her. Oh God…it huuuurrrttss…

Left arm just popped back into socket. I think I can move it. Right one’s gone – I see the stump

under my leg.

Came back for her. Only thing worth it in crappy little town. Hate New York – crowded, dirty

and loud all the time. Money not worth it, fame not worth it…Irma only one worth it. But Charlie’s

killed me…

I can hear. Engine starting up, tires kicking up gravel. Charlie leaving me, going back to her.

Taking her, taking my life, taking everything. Hate him. Envy him. Get him back. Take it all back, he

stole it all from me.

 Climbing. Slow. Agonizing. Falling twice, back into the darkness. Hold on, keep a grip, pull up…

tendons snap and tear. I fall again. Hear/feel something snap, leg? No matter. Think of her. Keep

climbing.

I see the moon. Full and shiny. Don’t know how long it’s been. Reach out with left arm, grab

edge of well. Pull, pull, pull…have to get out. Get to Irma. Save her.

Fall out of well, tumble to rocky ground. No pain anymore. Right arm gone, but left works fine.

Legs shaky but holding me up. Head hurts, dripping something that gets in my eyes. Raise my hand…

No! My head…how can I be alive? Is it love? Love for Irma? No…

It’s not love. Hate. Hate Charlie. Murdered me. Take my woman. Get him back. Make him

pay.

I walk to town. Stay away from light, stay in shadow. Feels like hours, three miles back. Legs

don’t work quite right. Right one drags, can’t work knee. Trip and fall by puddle of water.

Oh, God! My reflection in water…my face! I scream – it doesn’t sound like me. I sound dead. I

am dead. I want Charlieeee…

Outside Irma’s house. Look through window. Both sitting on couch. Irma crying, Charlie

consoling…he tries to kiss her. She pushes him back, slaps him. Charlie slaps her back, hard…

No! Trying to rape her! Climb porch steps, left hand pounds on door. Hear Irma scream, pound

harder on door. Charlie laughs…

Door splinters, cracks, falls to pieces. I shamble into room. Both look at me – Irma calls my

name and screams, Charlie screams also, tries to run. He stumbles, falls…I look at Irma. So beautiful,

love her so, try to touch her. She screams again and passes out.

I see Charlie on ground. Tries to get up, get away. Grab him by neck, pull him close. He

screams at me…what are you doing here, you’re dead, I killed you…I see a wet patch on the front of his

pants.
 No, Charlie. No happy ending for you. Back to the well, with me, lie forever in the darkness,

flesh rot, bones go to dust, no love, no light, no life. You took my life because you envied me and Irma, I

now take your life because the dead always envy the living.

Let our mutual envy keep us together in our grave. What Death brings together no one can take

apart.

THE END