Couples of South Pointe Lake

5. Secrets Afloat

Bobby Van Houten wasn’t the only one in South Pointe to hit the streets on a morning jog.  Around the time that Ollie waved at Bobby as he trotted past his home, Larry Ditko was returning to his double-decker stucco on Frisbee Lane.  Larry took to exercise as one would to religion.  The one thing he missed was that he was miles from the ocean, so surfing was out of the question.  

Larry often began his morning jog at 5:00 a.m., doing a two-mile run around the neighborhood before returning home.  He was sweating under his shirt, his body felt wiry, and his muscles snapped with energy.  He slowed to a leisure stroll as he got within distance of his house.  He sucked in a lungful of breath, inhaling the morning’s cold breeze, and swept his hair from his brow.  The street was starting to come alive.  He waved at several of his neighbors as they came out to perform one homely task or another—wash their cars in their driveway, water their garden, start up a lawnmower to trim their grassy lawn—some stood outside in their pajamas playing with their pets, soaking in the morning freshness.

“Hey, mister!”

Larry saw the paperboy pedaling steadily on his Schwinn bicycle.  The kid flung a wrapped newspaper toward Larry, who deftly caught it before it could hit the ground.  He waved at the kid as he raced down the street, flinging bundle of newspapers at each home he passed.  Larry watched him hurl one toward his friend Garry’s compound.  The paper’s trajectory didn’t make it over the fence and instead landed on the sidewalk.

Larry came to the entrance of his compound but stopped when something caught his attention.  There was a red-colored Hilux truck parked in front of Garry’s driveway.  Nothing inconspicuous about it.  Larry could have sworn, however, that he hadn’t noticed that truck parked there yesterday.  

He would have ignored the truck and gone about his business had something not occurred at that moment that arrested him to a halt.

Two black men in matching coveralls came out of Garry Meany’s home.  They looked like repairmen who had probably come to fix something, except none of that reflected in their demeanor.  It looked as though they had stayed the night over and were now taking their leave.  As if to make everything seem more genuine, Garry’s wife, Ellie, came after them; she wore a bathrobe and slippers.  Larry watched them while pretending to inspect his mailbox.  Ellie escorted the black men to the end of their driveway and kissed each one.  One of the men even slapped her behind—Larry caught sight of this in disbelief—then they went to their vehicle and drove off.  Larry couldn’t make out the words written on the side of the truck.  He stood there perplexed, unable to make sense of what he had witnessed, even as the truck drove off.

He went into the house and found his wife in the basement room they had converted into a fitness room.  

Blondie was sitting Indian-style on her yoga mat when Larry entered.  He stopped at the doorway when he saw she was naked.  This wasn’t a daily occurrence that he got to observe—in this case, it was because he had returned too soon from his jogging routine.  Larry and Blondie were empty nesters.  Their kids had shipped off to a boarding school located in Massachusetts weeks ago.  The house was as quiet as can be with just the two of them in it.  But little had changed as per their day-to-day schedule.

“Morning, honey,” Blondie smiled Larry as he entered the room.  “How was your run?”

“Great,” he sat on a workout bench while admiring his wife’s bodacious assets.  “Good as always.  But you’re not gonna believe what I just saw coming out of Garry’s front door.”

“Hold on,” Blondie stopped her exercise and rose to her feet.  Her torso was dotted with sweat; beads of sweat hung from her erect n*****s like raindrops.  She proceeded to wear her shorts but neglected her shirt.

She was a forty-three years old beach-blonde like her name.  She had a round face with solid dimples, a large set of hips, and a large pair of t**s that could knock a man flat if ever she swung them at his face.  Blondie was vain when it came to her features.  She once facetiously complained to Larry that raising the kids had sapped her breasts' flesh, hence why she took up yoga and drank plenty of water.  Lots and lots of water.  Larry preferred sticking to a glass of rum or tonic but had begun making exceptions because of her.

“You drank anything yet?” she asked.

“Uh . . . no, not yet.  But—”

“Hold it.  Let’s get you some water first.”

Larry knew better not to argue.  He followed her to the kitchen, where she got two bottles of water from the fridge and gave him one.  The name of the bottles read CRYSTAL CLEAR.  They had been consuming these for more than a week, but this was Larry’s first time of being aware of the name.

“Where did you get these?” he asked.  “What happened to the regular ones we used to drink?”

“Currently out of stock,” she said.  “But these are good.  Go ahead, take a sip.”

Larry popped the tab off his bottle, and together they drank a hefty fill.  The water felt refreshing for Larry, and he ended up finishing the entire bottle.  He usually wasn’t famished after his morning jog, but this time, he felt like he had really needed it.

“That feel good?” she asked.

Larry nodded in agreement.  “It sure did.”

“I think you can use another.”  She got him another bottle out of the fridge.  “So, what was it that you said you saw?”

*             *          *

Garry stood by the kitchen table sipping a glass of water while Ellie chaperoned their kids as they ate breakfast.  Garry finished his water and smacked his lips, and then adjusted his tie and jacket. 

“I’d best be off, hon,” he said.

“Okay, darling.  Kids, say bye-bye to daddy.”

The kids turned and waved goodbye to him.  He waved back then grabbed his briefcase, and headed to the front door.  He got into his car in the driveway and drove off.  

Done with breakfast, Ellie’s son and daughter grabbed their bags, they each kissed her before making for the door.  Ellie’s attention got diverted by her phone ringing.  The ringtone was distinct, so she knew who the caller was.  She took the phone with her as she went to peer out the living room window to observe her kids as they on the sidewalk, waiting for their school bus to arrive.  The bus soon appeared, and that was when Ellie answered the call.

“Hi, Cera,” Ellie waved at her kids as they climbed onto the bus, and its doors shut behind them.

“Amore, are you up and about already?”

“I should be in an hour or two.  Garry just left for work.”

“Yeah, I just saw him drive off.  Hera called me minutes ago.  She said Larry was out jogging this morning and saw the crew leaving your home.”

Ellie paused when her friend said that, but only briefly.  “Was he alarmed?”

“The way Hera said it, he was surprised by it the same way he was about that video of yours they saw.  You know he’s going to tell the others.”

“That’s to be expected,” Ellie/Amore said.  “We’ll see how things go.  I doubt Garry is going to be worked up about it.  You heard anything from Master Shango yet?”

“No.  But Garry told me someone’s taken up the For Sale sign at the Alvarez’s home.  I think we’ll be hearing from him soon.”

They talked shop for a while before ending their call.  Ellie returned to the kitchen to clear up the table.  She arranged everything in the washing machine.  The empty plastic bottles of Crystal Clear, she took those with her. 

She opened the door leading to the basement and switched on the lights before going down the stairs.  

There was a wooden closet behind the stairs.  Ellie opened it, and inside were two nylon bags stuffed with Crystal Clear bottles of water.  There was a third bag with only five bottles left.  Ellie’s eyes went to the left side of the closet, where a refuse bag containing empty bottles from the already opened bag.  It was in this bag that she deposited the empty bottles she and her family drank for breakfast.  She would wait until the bag was filled before delivering it to the black men in coveralls who had arrived last night with the two unopened bags.  They would visit the other women’s homes to hand them their bags of Crystal Clear.  

Ellie settled p*****t with the one currency the men preferred.  She led them to their upstairs bedroom while Garry minded the kids as they watched their favorite cartoon.  Ellie locked the door once inside, then stripped off her clothes along with the men and submitted herself by allowing them f**k her as much as they wanted.  It wasn’t the first time they had stopped by her home.  She initially left the house to meet them wherever they wanted.  She had gotten bolder with her actions over the past months and now saw no problem entertaining them in the comfort of her bedroom.  Their visiting hours were usually between 09:00 a.m. and noon when Garry was bound to be at work and the kids stuck at school.  They would have the house to themselves, and she would pleasure the men to their utmost want, knowing she was in turn pleasing the man responsible for sending them.  There wasn’t any concern about her neighbors becoming curious.  

Ellie would never have thought to show any concern until now, with Larry having mentioned what he witnessed this morning.  

Shep Ellis and his wife, Morgan, lived a couple of houses down from Steve and Angie Miller.  That same morning while Larry was in the shower, Blondie was on the phone narrating to her friend and co-conspirator, Morgan, about the individuals in coverall that her husband witnessed coming out of the Meany’s home.  The women were part of the same cult, bearing different aliases like their friend Ellie.  Morgan bore the name Cera, while Blondie was Hera.  Their aliases were assigned to them by their black god—the same god who was soon to make his presence known in South Pointe.

They referred to him by his godlike name: Master Shango.

Their husbands were unsuspecting of the secret life they lived.  The women kept a tight handle on their clandestine activity, awaiting the appointed time when all would be revealed to the world.  Their mission was to clear the way for their husbands to fall in line before that scheduled date arrived.  A day they knew was closer at hand.

While Shep was preoccupied in the living room watching the news, Morgan was upstairs getting ready for work.  She was thirty-four years old.  A buxom brunette.  Tall, with long pair of legs and a freckled chin.  She worked for an insurance company.  She was currently the defunct bread-winner of their home, as Shep was going through a hard time, having declared bankruptcy to his erstwhile gaming company.  At thirty-five, he felt washed up than he would like to admit.  Morgan savored her newfound role and sagaciously played it to her utmost satisfaction.

Morgan heard her phone ring and saw it was Blondie—aka Hera—calling to unload her morning correspondence with her husband.  Morgan then called up Ellie—aka Amore—to inform her of what she had heard.  Afterward, she called Hanna—aka Rosa—to keep her abreast of things.  The wives were used to working in unison.  It was imperative they share whatever news or information that might derail what they knew was coming.

Though everything appeared to be moving smoothly, Morgan knew there was one factor that might make things fall apart.  That factor came in the form of a married couple.  Something should be done about them; she would raise the subject next time Master Shango summoned for her.

Morgan grabbed her handbag and made sure she didn’t forget anything before leaving the bedroom.  She and Shep have been married nine years, and so far, they have remained childless.  The anomaly was more of Shep’s part than hers.  Morgan was steadfastly looking forward to having offspring.  A visit to her gynecologist had confirmed months ago that her eggs were fertile, and yes, she could still have children.  She can make things happen, of course, except it won’t be Shep’s seed in her womb.

She found him in the living room, still in his clothes from last night.  He had switched from the news and was now playing a game on his PlayStation.  He turned his head when she entered the room.

 “You off to work, hon?” 

“Yes,” she said.  “I might be home late.  If I do, don’t forget to order out.  Okay?”

“Sure, of course.”

Morgan kissed him then left him to his devices.  As much as she detested him been stuck at home all day with nothing to do than play video games or attend to his online blog that he said was growing weekly in terms of readership and make adequate time in the interim to watch porn—Morgan knew about this.  She had the password to his computer to investigate his browser history whenever she saw fit—this was how he usually preferred spending his days.  She should be grateful that he wasn’t completely lazy.  He did keep the house clean and performed whatever repairs in the house that was needed.  She had introduced him to drinking Crystal Clear water and could tell that he was hooked on it.  

Master Shango would be proud of her.

She opened the back doors of the garage, then got her car and drove out.  She stopped in the driveway, then got out and closed the garage doors before returning to her car and driving off into the start of her day.