Corpses in Wonderland

“There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.”- Friedrich Nietzsche

Malcolm was sitting alone in the kitchen with a thick glass of Meryl’s red wine in hand. He twisted his shoulder, where the bandage was wrapped around his bare chest and keeping the wound disinfected. His head was dizzy from the previous glasses, and finally checked his watch; the time was Nine twenty-one.

There was an immediate ring at the front door which forced Malcolm to finish what was left of his wine. He walked to the door as the bell rang a second time. When Malcolm opened the door, he was greeted by two police officers standing on the porch. The sergeant, a man named Roy, held a pencil and notepad while his partner; a man named Mayer kept both hands on his hips. There were two police vehicles parked on the street with the headlights still flashing, along with the ambulance.

Both their jaws started to hang loose; the Sergeant stared at Malcolm with bewilderment. “Are you okay sir?”

Malcolm touched his face, feeling the tension of the purple bruise covering his cheek. “I’m alright.”

The Sergeant winced. “Are you sure? We can get you to the hospital.”

Malcolm shook his head. “I think I should be okay…”

Both cops looked at each other before one confirmed, “Mr. Nelson, correct?”

Malcolm hesitated. “Y-yes sir.”

“We understand that there’s been a burglary?” Mayer asked.

Malcolm scratched his head. “Well, nothing got stolen but…”

“That would be theft, sir.” Mayer corrected.

“Well…then yes.” Malcolm said.

“The dispatcher told us you were stabbed?” Sergeant Roy pointed at Malcolm’s bandaging. “And that our suspect got impaled?”

Malcolm gulped, “Yes sir. Um…Do you want to come inside?”

Roy nodded. “That would make this easier. Yes.”

“Okay,” Malcolm stepped back so they may enter, “I’ll ugh…get the garage door open; it’s just through here.” The partner closed the door behind them, and they all crossed into the kitchen.

After Malcolm opened the door to the garage he stepped left as he hit the switch to open the main shutter. It rose as Roy moved up to take note of the pitchfork adjacent to the dead intruder. Mayer stood guard at the doorway, covering his mouth with one hand as he gazed at the paling body, then to the blooded screwdriver.

Roy scratched his head with his pencil, “So…what happened?”

Malcolm rubbed his hands as if he were rinsing them. He stammered quietly, “I-I put my son to bed, that was about half an hour ago, after that I came downstairs to fire up the ugh…the sander. I was gonna make…. It’s stupid-“

“No, we’re interested.” Roy stated.

“It was just supposed to be this little toy duck for Connor, my son.” Malcolm answered. “The first attempts we’re shit.”

“So, you’re into woodworking?” Roy was eyeing the station.

Malcolm shrugged. “Just a new hobby. I can’t make tables or anything of the sort. See, the hanging sander over there lets you shape your wood…”

Roy attempted not to chuckle as he took notes, but it cracked through. Malcolm kept his head down but gave a pitiful smile.

“I’m guessing that’s when he attacked you?” Mayer rubbed his mustache and directed their attention back to the body.

“I turned the lights on, and he faced me, yes.”

“Out in the open?”

“Yes. He was scrambling at me when I noticed him.”

“When was that?” Roy asked.

Malcolm raised a brow. “Half an hour…”

“No.” Roy corrected, “When did you notice him?”

Malcolm paused. “It’s hard to tell…I was looking down, I was tired…I looked up and he was already trying to grab me.”

Roy pursed his lips while nodding. “Go on.”

Malcolm scratched his head. “…The man pushed me into the wall right there; once my back was against it, he stabbed me with the screwdriver.” He pointed to his chest wound.

“Did he say anything?” Mayer asked.

“…No…” Malcolm answered, “He just attacked.”

“Go on.”

Malcolm was stammering. “It happened really fast…I stopped thinking…I grabbed whatever tool I could.”

Roy pointed to the pitchfork.

“Yes.” Malcolm nodded. “I thrust him off me, which was when I think my face was hit…Next thing I remembered was standing over him.”

“With the pitchfork in him.”

Malcolm nodded. “He was struggling, and I panicked.”

“How did the pitchfork get over there?” Mayer asked.

“…I pulled it out…”

Mayer winced. “Which was when he died correct?”

“I-I don’t know…”

“Blood loss may be what did it.” Mayer said.

Malcolm stammered again. “He was hurting…”

Mayer shook his head. “Dude, I see your army tattoos. You mean to tell me you don’t know that shit? Your supposed to leave it in him until the paramedics show up.”

“Chill out Bill.” Roy interrupted as he finished writing on the notepad. He took a few steps toward the body. “Look at where he’s punctured. Odds are, his air supply got cut off immediately, not to mention the prongs likely severed his spine. This guy was already a goner by my estimate.” He continued to write in his notepad.

Malcolm stood with a sunken chin while Mayer cut his stare from him, back to Roy who began to tap with increasing frequency.

“Oh, wait a fucking minute!” Roy barked.

Malcolm’s pupils shriveled as Mayer approached Roy, “What is it?”

Roy’s expression turned cocky. “Look at him! This little fucker was profiled at the drug den we busted the other week! Remember? The prick left just before our raid; I think it was Brody who booked him afterwards. We’ll know for sure once we ID him, though I doubt he was dumb enough to bring that on a caper. You didn’t touch him since the incident, did you?”

“No.”

“Good,” Roy pulled out gloves and checked the front pockets. Opposite of what was expected, he found a black wallet. “Well shit. I guess he was stupid! Wait here…” He spoke into his walkie talkie as he approached the open front shutter. He gave a hand signal to the paramedics. Malcolm continued to avoid eye contact with the partner, who kept an eye on him.

“I think maybe we should step inside.” Mayer spoke.

Malcolm agreed but kept his head down. As the paramedics came inside the garage, Malcolm walked inside with Mayer behind him. Malcolm paid the officer no mind as he stood by the kitchen counters, he poured another glass of wine. “I’m uh, being rude…” Malcolm finally faced Officer Mayer, “Can I get you anything?”

“Coffee?” Mayer responded with a straight face, “Our shifts just started, so we got all night.”

“I still have some in the pot but it’s long cold by now.” Malcolm motioned to it.

Mayer shrugged, “I like iced coffee.”

“Sure,” Malcolm opened the kitchen cabinets to retrieve a fresh mug while sipping his wine.

“How much have you been drinking?” Mayer asked, almost suspiciously.

“I did have a few beers beforehand.” Malcolm looked down at the glass, “The wine belongs to my wife...” he took another gulp before setting the glass down to retrieve the coffee pot from its station.

Mayer nodded. “…You mentioned a son. Where’s his mom?”

“Work.” Malcolm answered. “She’s an ER Nurse. Gets off at ten.”

Mayer thanked Malcolm for the coffee he was passing, “You’ve notified her, right?”

Malcolm’s eyes popped out of his head; he dropped his head and took another sip.

“Okay, sir?” Mayer raised his hand politely. “I’ll let you finish that one, no more after.”

Malcolm was concerned. “Is there a problem officer?”

“I’m concerned that your judgment is impaired.” Mayer answered. “That may have led to some bad decisions.”

“But…” Malcolm dropped his chin.

“You’ve been mixing.” Mayer said. “How many beers did you say you had?”

“I don’t feel comfortable repeating myself…” Malcolm wanted to shrivel.

Mayer squinted. “Can I ask why not?”

Malcolm’s lips thinned with fear. “Can I ask if I’m under arrest?

“Arrest for what?” Mayer asked.

“That’s what I’d like to know.”

Roy came back into the kitchen and showed interest. “Coffee for me too, please?”

“Yea, sure…” Malcolm broke eye contact with Mayer, “It’ll take a few minutes to brew.”

Roy shrugged. “Well…We got all night and unlike this weirdo I take mine hot.”

“Is he still in there?” Malcolm added a fresh filter to the brewer.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Roy answered. “Mind if I sit?” Malcolm nodded and Roy pulled a seat out from the kitchen table, “The station would like us to leave the scene as it is until a detective observes-“

At that Malcolm nearly dropped a scoop of coffee grounds. “Whoa! Why a detective? I told you everything; I defended myself!”

“Mr. Nelson.” Roy said as he passively waved Malcolm down, “We have a dead body in a residential suburb. We’re still confirming his identity, and he may be connected to another break-in. The station would like a thorough report on the matter and we’re not with homicide; a homicide expert is on his way.”

Malcolm nodded. “I’m happy to serve you guys what I have, but I don’t want to say anything more without legal counsel. You have my account recorded; that’s that.” Malcolm pressed the start button for the brew cycle.

Roy cocked his head, “That’s that? Huh?”

“Yes.”

The silence was long enough for the hum of the brewer to finish. The glances were exchanged back and forth between the cops. “Whelp,” Roy clapped, “You’re not under arrest so we can’t force the matter, however you’re detained until the detectives can observe the scene. Procedures and all.”

Malcolm just looked at the mug as he poured and said, “Cream and Sugar?”

“Lots of both. Thank you.” Roy’s eyes became analytic of Malcolm as he added both. He set the mug on the counter, instead of bringing it to Roy and Malcolm leaned back against the kitchen island.

“You mind if I call my wife?” He asked.

“Reach wherever you need.” Mayer stated.

He pulled his phone out to dial; it was the after the fifth ring when Malcolm heard Meryl speak, “Hello?”

“Um…. Hey darling.”

“Shit, what’s the matter?”

“The police are here.” Malcolm whispered and received no response. “Honey?”

“I’m here,” Meryl’s voice returned. “Just...go on, what happened?”

“Connor and I are okay, but there was a burglar…”

“When!?”

“Like, forty minutes ago.” Malcolm started to fidget. “Um…”

“Please just tell me….” Meryl begged.

“He’s dead…The guy tried to kill me.”

Meryl gasped. “Are you okay!?”

“He got me good, but I’ll live. I just don’t want you to freak out if you come home before the police leave.”

“What about Connor?”

“He’s still in bed.” Malcolm promised. “He never saw it.”

“Are they arresting you?” Her voice became more fearful.

“We’re waiting on the detectives.”

“Mal, that sounds bad.”

“Listen honey, they mentioned something about repeated break-ins; it could be more about him than me. This is just standard procedure.”

“That doesn’t worry me any less…”

“Just get yourself some dinner and wait for it to blow over.” Malcolm pleaded back. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Malcolm had to hang up when she didn’t. Meanwhile, Roy and Mayer had been whispering to each other and they refocused on Malcolm once he put the phone down. “Humor me with one thing…” Roy was rubbing his chin, “… what unit did you serve with?”

“Huh?” Malcolm’s eyes fluttered.

“Your tats.” Roy was looking at Malcolm’s bicep, “Of course you’re a vet. Right?” He lifted his right sleeve, revealing that his shoulder had a bald eagle carrying the world; beneath that was his Gunnery-Sergeant Insignia “Either that or you’re some sort of Proud Boy.”

Malcolm almost hesitated. “Second Division, First Battalion, One Hundred Twenty-First Infantry Regiment, November Company.”

Roy dropped his sleeve. “Second Marine Division, Eighth regiment, First Battalion. You talk like you made Officer.”

“You guessed right.” Malcolm smiled. “I graduated from Officer Candidate School; officially became a Captain, my Colonel wanted to make me a Warrant Officer though.”

“That would take you out of the field, fuck that!” Roy boasted. “I signed up to kick Bin Laden’s ass, found myself kicking Saddam’s instead. They had me deployed to Kuwait and Camp Fallujah for most of the war…but I saw my share of the action! How many towelheads did you off?”

Oomph. Careful Malcolm. He pursed his lips. “…About twenty-five…”

“Damn son!” Mayer said.

Malcolm’s eyes drifted above. “Well…possibly twenty-six.”

“Twenty-Seven now!” Roy laughed. “I can only take credit for nineteen that I know of.”

Malcolm joined the laughter. “I’m cool to pour myself another glass?”

“Certainly!” Roy said.

***

Meryl was rushing through the parking lot after finally clocking out, the brunette-haired woman of thirty-four was trying to get home as quickly as possible. She drove her car one handed, with her head resting in the other hand as the Nirvana chorus droned.

“…Got some rope, haven’t told…

…Promise you, have been true….

…Let me take a ride, cut yourself…

…Want some help, please myself…”

As Meryl came upon the next red light, she merged to turn right. The thought of an arrest for Mal filled her with dread and the dark of night accompanying her turns down the neighborhoods didn’t help. It was ten twenty-five and the anticipation was mounting.

She made the final right and was immediately greeted with the brightness of the ambulance at the front of the cul-de-sac. There were three other cars parked in front, two squad cars and a Volkswagen with a blue siren on the driver’s side roof. She had no room on the driveway and pulled up in front of the adjacent house. Meryl got out and saw a covered stretcher exiting the garage. One of the two officers saw her from the front of the driveway. “Ma’am!” the officer insisted. “The residence is currently being-“

“I live here; I’m his wife! Where’s Mal?”

The Officer paused and looked at his partner, who ran inside of the garage. “Just one moment Ma’am…” The Officer insisted.

“Please don’t do anything to him!” Meryl pleaded as the ambulance took off, “He’s active-duty military! He wouldn’t-“

“Ma’am.” the cop raised his hands, “Everything’s going to be okay, your husband is inside.”

The partner ran back out. “Clear!” he spoke, “You can go in.”

Meryl ran past him without acknowledgement. After entering the garage, she paused at the river of blood that was drying over the drain, and the pool it once swelled from. There were several tools aligned on the floor, each sealed in a clear bag; it was the pitchfork which caused Meryl to shiver. She heard echoes of laughter through the open door to the kitchen.

As she stepped through, there was a man clad in a light sports coat pacing the room as a patrol cop drank coffee while he sat by the dinner table.

The coated man was mid-story: “…we’re trying to confirm whether they were trading Opium for these guns. Then we watched the farmer and his son show up from the road beneath our post with their stupid fucking pack mules. There are the five Taliban guards at the end of the crossroad and then there’s us sitting with our thumbs up our asses for what seemed like thirty minutes as the peasants shuffled up the road.

Sure enough, someone from the Taliban was talking to them. Now, bear in mind, we didn’t have a direct sight of what they brought. Now I’m telling myself, ‘Don’t you fucking do it kid. Don’t you make me do this…’ But of course, he pulls some suspicious sacks out of the packs while two of the guards were unloading some weapons crates off their jeeps and bringing it up to the leader. Now you can imagine what happens next, we confirmed that these fuckers were trading opium for guns. We sent it up the command chain and we get told, ‘Hold off.’

I’m thinking, ‘Oh Shit! This is it! I’m gonna do it….’ My sergeant was waiting for orders, then suddenly I heard him list out some numbers; I realized those were coordinates! Suddenly, my spotter patted my shoulder and said, ‘You’re limiting the view bro.’ I took my eye off the scope. A second later, a payload from above blew both jeeps to right to Hell! Those inside the jeep were obviously dead, and the rest scattered like roaches! By then, the Sergeant yelled, ‘Weapons Free! Weapons Free!’, and the whole squad was firing. The pack mules dropped instantly, everybody else was cut down as they ran!”

Jovial laughter resounded the kitchen. Meryl closed the door behind her and was still unnoticed.

The Man was finishing. “It was over fast as fuck! Then as we we’re packing up, I saw one of those fuckers moving, it was the son! He was crawling along the sand towards one of the crates. Now we had no idea what kind of weapons these boys were trading, but we all know exactly what this bastard would do with one. I pointed him out to my Sergeant, who said, ‘Your mark….’ Next thing I know, everybody’s chanting ‘Nikky! Nikky! Nikky!’ So, I look back in my scope and I blew a round right through his lung! And he went like…” The coated man arched his back forward to contort, “…And he dropped on his face!” He stood up as the room laughed. “And THAT was the only shot I pulled on my whole first tour!”

Mal was borderline cackling with his head facing the ceiling. Another Officer was red-faced beside Mal, he stopped chuckling and said, “Between that and Guantanamo, that was probably nice of you.”

“...Um...” Meryl vocalized while looking at everyone.

Mal finally saw her. “Honey!” His brown eyes popped out of his head as he spun around the counter, “Your home!” Meryl had no time to address his bandages; Mal hugged her tightly and she could smell wine in his breath.

“I assume your Miss Nelson?” The man in the sports coat asked.

“What happened?” She asked after the hug ended.

The man answered. “Just a home invasion gone horribly wrong; everything checks out. Your husband put the kid to bed before nine, when the break-in occurred. The perpetrator tried to kill your husband when he entered the garage.”

She gasped at Mal’s bandages and cupped his purple, swollen cheek. “What did he do to you?!”

“Nothing Connor had to see.” Mal sincerely answered.

Meryl forgot to blink. “That’s not what I asked.”

Mal looked to his wounds before looking back at Meryl. “The asshole stabbed me with one of the tools, also I took a hammer smash.”

Meryl shuddered with Mal’s face in hand. “He what?!”

Mal cupped her face in return. “Honey. I dealt with him.”

“How?!” she demanded.

Mal hesitated. “The way I was taught; whatever way available.”

“…Mal, what did you do?”

He blinked. “The pitchfork was next to me.”

Meryl wanted to shudder. The Detective spoke up before she could, “Fortunately, it should be the last in a string of burglaries. We confirmed his identity as a multiple offender, but this is admittedly the first time he’s been violent.”

“Of course!” Roy said, “He didn’t want to go back!”

“Anyway.” Detective ‘Nikki’ returned to Meryl. “We’re sorry for any undue stress but there are standard investigative procedures. We had to keep your husband detained until I got here. But now that we’ve confirmed the suspect’s identity, I think it’s safe to let your husband off!”

Meryl finally shuddered. “So that’s it then?”

The Detective cocked his head. “Unless there’s anything else you want to talk about?”

She paused. “Uh, no thank you.”

The Detective clapped once. “Well then! It’s a long shift for us! We best be on our way.”

With that, Roy stood, and flanked by Mayer, they followed the Detective back out through a garage cleared of physical evidence.

“Have a good one yawl, stay safe.” Malcolm said as he closed the shudder.

One of them responded, “You do the same!”

The kitchen was deafeningly silent except for the air conditioning. Mal walked back around the counter to retrieve the empty mugs of coffee and wash them out in the sink. He then polished off the glass of wine and began to rinse that out as well. “…I kind of helped myself to your stash…”

“I can tell.” Meryl set her purse down. “How much have you had?”

“Enough.” He shrugged. “Couple of glasses. Plus, the beers.”

“Were you drunk when it happened?” Meryl asked.

“Well not drunk, but I am now.”

She winced. “And that’s a good thing?”

“Well, all things being considered? Yes.”

“Okay,” Meryl reached for the bottle, “How about we put that away?”

“Alright.” Mal finished wiping the counter. “I still gotta hose the stains away before they’re permanent.”

Meryl was surprised. “Can’t that wait until the morning?”

He looked directly at her. “I don’t want to have to scrub dry chips of blood tomorrow.”

“But there’s blood on you!” she pointed to the trickle of droplets that rose Malcolm’s pant leg.

Malcolm looked both ways while facing her. “It didn’t get in my mouth or anything. Plus, I’m vaccinated; can’t get lockjaw from the screwdriver.”

Meryl’s jaw dropped. “That’s…not what I’m worried about.”

Mal winced. “Did something happen at work?”

“YES!”

“Honey!” Mal gasped. “Connor is asleep.”

Meryl’s heart was palpitating. “My husband called me to say that he killed a man!”

“I didn’t want you to see it.” Mal answered. “Why didn’t you get dinner?”

“I thought you were under arrest!” she yelled.

Mal’s eyes glazed while looking at her, “I didn’t want you to see it.”

Meryl cupped her mouth, trembling. “Honey, are you okay?”

He shrugged again and wiped his hands on his legs. “The cops were nice, so….”

“…You used the pitchfork…”

Mal’s mouth seemed to fumble. “…It’s what was next to me...”

Meryl reiterated the point. “…You were able to kill him with it…”

“Darling, I’ve…” Mal wiped his mouth, “Look, you know that’s not the first time I’ve had to kill someone; I serve with Infantry.”

Meryl felt dazed. “…But…how are you okay?”

“I’m trained to deal with it.” He emphasized, “At first, when I was trying for the Marines, they made us watch gore videos that first week to prep us.”

“…They said they knew the burglar?” Meryl asked.

“Some bailee.” Mal answered. “They mentioned something about him having a brother.”

She winced again. “And you’re okay with that?”

Mal’s eyes glistened with confusion. “Honey…I don’t know him. And the detective literally said they were gonna go talk to him next, so it doesn’t matter.”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter…How!?”

Mal gasped. “Because he was helping him! You think a home invader was loading a van by himself?”

Meryl shook her head. “Did you see anybody else?”

“No.”

“So why is that even in the discussion?” Meryl asked, only for him to stammer without speaking. “…Mal…”

“What did I do?”

Now, she stammered. “…This sounds like…”

“What?” Mal asked.

“…Are you sure this isn’t PTSD?”

“Honey…I’ve never had a flashback…” He seemed to deflect. “Look, today was long enough for both of us. Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

“But I’m scared for you!”

“Not so loud!” Malcolm hushed.

“You don’t even look like you’re shocked!” She continued. “And what was that conversation with ‘Nikki’ all about?”

“Sweetheart….” Mal took one step forward and touched her hands. Cupping his fingers over hers, he pulled her in for another embrace which she hesitantly returned. She wrapped her arms around his neck as his head rested just next to her. “…Our first night together… together together…. You remember how bad I was?” he asked.

The shift in topics gave Meryl goosebumps and an arch in her eyebrows; but choosing to focus on the sweet memory forced her to smile. “You did warn me…”

They lifted their heads and continued their handhold, Mal’s brown eyes looked up to her. “I haven’t been shocked by anything since the day you asked me out. I was never happier before we left the hospital with Connor. And I’ve never found violence easier than when it was for the two of you. I gave myself to you. Okay? You saved my life in ways you don’t even know. We’ll carry each other to the End.”

As always, he kept looking into Meryl’s eyes as they kissed. His arms slid forward; the hands sensually glided up her torso until they were cupping Meryl’s breasts. He stepped forward and slid his arms under her shoulders, pulling himself into her once again, tighter than before, and as he felt her body click against his like two puzzle pieces, his inhalations turned rhythmic. They continued to kiss as Malcolm flexed his protruding muscles, rubbing Meryl’s shoulder blades. She used to gently rub his head at this point.

Instead, she trembled, and her eyes were watering as she returned the kiss. His rhythms became a muffled moan….and she started to feel him protruding against her lower waist. Her focus on the kiss faltered. “Mal…”

As he took a deep breath, his arms slid down her back. Wrapping his arms tightly around her, both hands began to slide under her shirt; she grabbed them. “Mal!”

He paused and stared at her. Then, he swung one arm beneath her knees and swept her up as he did on the day they married. The swift motion of it knocked her out of her senses. He began to carry her through the dining room, where flashbacks of their first meeting hit her. Finally breaking the floodgates of tears that had been building behind her eyes, yet he was oblivious as he turned to climb the staircase.

“Malcolm! Stop!” Suddenly, his legs began to wobble, and she wept. “Put me down...Now…”

He stared at her like a confused cat. He tried to sit on the staircase and hug her once again while she was on his lap, only for her to hesitantly push off him. She saw that his looking at her bloodshot eyes snuffed all the light from his heart. She resisted looking back as she rose to the top; only the sounds of her sobs rang aloud.

“Meryl I’m sorry!”

At the top, she stood facing the right hallway to Connor’s room with her fists clenched. She took delicate steps to approach his door and opened it with a push.

The silhouette of Connor’s head rose from behind the bed, seemingly turning his head like an automaton to look at her. Soundless flashes of lightning from the window showed his face turn from fearful to happy and the boy sprinted around to her. “MOMMY!”

Meryl kneeled to hug her son tightly, yet shuddered as additional flashes illuminated the toddler-esq features of Malcolm. “…It’s okay baby…”

The child seemed to quiver in her embrace. “Daddy left! It Loud!”

She rubbed Connor’s black hair. “…I know baby…Daddy’s okay…”

“Floor banged!” Connor cried. “High scream!”

Meryl turned cold; immediately she parted the hug and stared at Connor with hands on his shoulders. “Honey…what did you hear?”

The child was pale and tearful. “…High scream. ‘Get the Fuck back!”

Now, Meryl started to quiver as she compared the hushed tones of Malcolm’s voice.