Joe was an average guy. An average Joe, so to speak. He was thirty four years old, college educated, came from a good family with a solid upbringing, and had a good job as a transportation analyst with the U.S. government. He lived in an upper middle class suberb in Virginia, outside of Washington D.C., with his wife Rachel and two sons, Joey and Willis. He enjoyed life immensely. He spent a lot of time outside of work with his family. Outings, backyard cookouts, fishing trips, and cultural excursions into the city kept him close to his family and allowed him to fully enjoy being a father and a husband. He loved his wife and never entertained any interest in other women. In short, life was exactly as he had always expected it would be and he was content.
The alarm went off at five a.m. as usual for a weekday morning. He rose and sat on his side of the bed, acutely aware of the empty space on the other side where his wife would have normally slept. She and the kids were out of town, visiting her family. Joe had to stay behind to finish an important project at work. They had been gone for two days now and he missed them terribly. Everything was out of whack with them away. His morning routine, missing the breakfast chaos and the inevitable disasters involving kids and breakfast liquids, seemed empty and pointless. He had to shake himself out of this funk. They would be gone for a week and he’d never survive it at this rate.
He returned home from work that afternoon and decided to take a walk. Mingus, the family dog, was waiting for him in the backyard. Two days of not seeing the boys had made him restless and attention starved and he attacked Joe with boundless joy as he walked out of the sliding glass doors. After several minutes of horseplay, Joe got the leash and they left the house for a walk in the woods nearby.
As they walked along the trail in the woods Joe let Mingus off of the leash. As he walked Mingus would bound into view, then disappear into the woods, chasing birds or whatever else dogs chase in the woods. Joe finally called the dog back, put him on the leash and started back toward home. That was the first time it happened. He walked along the trail, thinking about Rachel when he distinctly heard a voice ask “C’mon man aren’t tired of her yet?” Joe swung around and looked behind him, then to all sides, but there was nobody there. He stopped and listened intently to try to hear if anyone was near him on the trail. Nothing. Chalking it up to too much work and low blood sugar he resumed his walk home. As he settled into a steady pace, he once again found himself thinking intently about his wife. “You know Joe, she’s not getting any younger, and she could make a little more effort in the bedroom, don’t you think?” Now he was getting pissed off. He swung around again and looked for the culprit but he appeared to be alone in the woods.
“Who’s there?” he yelled
“This shit’s not funny you fucking asshole! Show yourself!”
Nothing.
“Well fuck you then!” he yelled and stomped off toward home.
Bye the next morning he had almost forgotten about the voice in his head the previous day. He performed his morning routine and went downstairs for breakfast. While he ate his breakfast and read the news on his computer pad, it happened again. “Jesus Joe, isn’t nice to have a quiet, peaceful breakfast for a change? I mean COME ON man! This is great!”
He tossed down his pad and looked around the kitchen and adjoining dining room to find the source of the voice. Nobody was there, He rose and moved around the house, checking the rooms and the exterior, but he could find no one. He was becoming frustrated with this jokester and wanted to find them and shut them up. He returned to the remainder of his breakfast and resumed his reading when it happened again.
“Joe, have ever thought what it would be like if you could live like this all the time? We could have a great time. No kids fucking everything up all of the time. No middle aged shrew yelling for us to fix the fucking washer all the time. Seriously, wouldn’t that be much better?”
WE. The voice had said “WE could have a great time!”
Joe put down the pad slowly and looked down at Mingus, who was sitting next to this chair. The dog stared back at him evenly and didn’t move. Was he losing his mind? Was the voice coming into his head from that fucking dog?
“Awww shit Mingus. I must really have something wrong with me. Now I have to call my doctor and tell him that my dog is communicating with me telepathically. That’s gonna go down good, huh?” he laughed
“Fuck it Joe, what’s a doctor got to do with it?”
Joe stared at the dog.
“Mingus are you talking to me?” he asked
“Well who the fuck do you THINK is talking to you Joe? There’s nobody else here. Jesus Christ!”
Joe felt the blood draining from his face and a queasy feeling in his gut.
“So as I was saying, we have to do something about that bitch and those little rugrats. Enough is enough man! What happened to your life Joe? Have you even touched another woman? Ever? What the hell is so great about Mrs. Douchebag? She does nothing but nag you and sit around when you’re not here. It would be one thing if she was a good fuck, but hey, I’ve seen you guys in bed and well, I always thought necrophelia was illegal!”
“Shut up!” Joe yelled at the dog “just shut the fuck up! What the hell is happening to me? I have to call someone!”
Joe immediately called his doctor and arranged an office visit. He told the doctor that he was hearing strange sounds and several tests were performed. The tests indicated nothing and the doctor referred him to a specialist at a local hospital. That afternoon he was admitted to the hospital and spent that evening and the next day getting a battery of neurological, ENT, and blood tests done. All results were negative.
Joe didn’t know what to do. He was afraid to go home, but eventually he returned, having nowhere else to go. Entering the house he found Mingus sitting calmly in the living room waiting for him. He eyed the dog suspiciously as he moved past it to seat himself.
“Aren’t you going to say anything Joe?”
Oh God, it was happening again. How could the dog be talking to him. He was losing his mind! The queasy feeling returned and he began to tremble. Flop sweat appeared on his forehead and he thought he might throw up.
“Goddammit Joe! I’m not talking just to hear myself! I’m serious about this. You have to do something about them. I can’t take it anymore. You’re cool man, but the rest of the family are a bunch of fucking losers. Those damn kids do nothing but pull on my tail, try to ride me, and stick shit in my mouth. I’ve fucking had it!”
The room was spinning slightly as Joe sat staring at the dog. Maybe he just need to confront his demons. Yes, that’s what he would do.
“Mingus, what are you on about? What do you mean something has to be done?” he asked
“I mean something has to be done. We’ve got to get rid of them! What are our options?”
Joe thought about what MIngus had said. He actually had made several good points. Rearing kids was tiresome. There was no letup. And you couldn’t reason with the little shits. Me, me, me, me, me! It never stopped. And the expense! For what head already spent on doctors, the house, clothes, food, medicine….he could have a really cool condo and be driving a damned Porsche! Mingus might be onto something here. And as much as he had loved her, Rachel had seemed to transform into a different person over the past couple of years. Constant nagging about trivial household tasks, she spent money like there was a never ending supply, and Mingus was right about the sex. It was always straight missionary position and she basically just laid there like a dead fish. God forbid she should actually give him a blowjob now and then! No, the dog was definitely onto something here. He began to weight his options.
He could divorce her. That could get messy though. She’d get the kids, which was good, but he’d get totally fucked with alimony and support, and a judge may not even grant a divorce if she didn’t agree to it. He could just split, but then he’d lose his job and pension, and hell, in this computerized age they’d find him anyway unless he decided to live in the Arctic Circle. As he pondered the problem he rose and poured himself a glass of scotch.
“Hey, can I get some of that?” Mingus asked
“Some of what?”
“What do you think asshole? The booze!”
Joe shook his head, retrieved a clean bowl from the kitchen and poured some scotch into it. He sat the bowl down in front of Mingus.
“Cheers” said the dog, and began to lap up the scotch
“One thing’s for sure” said the dog “if we get rid of those assholes you’ll be able to afford better booze. This shit is nasty. What is that Cutty Sark or something? BLEH!”
Joe wondered how he had gotten a dog that not only communicated telepathically, but also knew the difference between good scotch and rotgut. He quickly turned his thoughts back to his familial situation.
There was only one solution. He’d have to kill them. He poured another drink. But how would he do it? He didn’t want to make them suffer and he needed to do it in a way that he wouldn’t be suspected. He wondered if he could get a Porsche in that really cool Canary Yellow that Tony Williams used to use for his drum kit. He struggled to keep his thoughts straight as he spent the night drinking and thinking about how to unburden himself.
He awoke the next morning bleary eyed with a headache. He was still in his soiled clothes from the day before and his mouth tasted as though a bird of prey had stored a recent kill in it, then defecated in it for good measure. He couldn’t imagine how his breath smelled. He got up from the couch, every joint screaming with pain, and headed for the kitchen.
“Hey, before you start the coffee, can you let me out? I’ve got to piss.” said Mingus
After letting the dog out he loaded up the Mr. Coffee and waited for the alkaloid laden manna to emerge. He noted that the voice in his head didn’t shock him at all now and that it seemed completely normal to have a telepathic dog.
As he drank his coffee, Mingus yelled to be let back in and settled at his feet.
“So, do we have a plan or what?” the dog asked
“I think I’ve got something. I’m going to visit my doctor today and steal some drugs. When Rachel and the boys get home I’ll drug them and put them to bed. Then I’m going to turn on the oven for about a half hour and rig a light bulb to ignite the gas. The house will go up, the bodies will burn and nobody will suspect anything. You and I are going to be out night fishing and when we return in the morning I’ll be appropriately distressed.”
“Hmmm. Not bad Joe. You should spend some time subtly spreading the word with neighbors that you plan to go fishing. You know, help set up the alibi.”
“Yeah Mingus, you’re right. That’s a good idea. Well, I’ve got to get cleaned up and get to the hospital.”
A quick rifling of a hospital cabinet brought up a ton of Ambien samples. The perfect choice. The family would return tomorrow midday. It would be a Saturday. Perfect.
He went home and wrestled around with Mingus in the yard, shared a steak and a bottle of wine with him and hit the sack early.
He greeted Rachel with the disposition of a viper. Externally he smiled, kissed her, welcomed her home, and caressed her ass. Internally he was calculating an appropriate dose of Ambien to administer later. He played with the boys, feeling somewhat detached from them, as though they were someone else’s children. Rachel appeared and asked what they’d like for lunch and tuna sandwiches were ordered. Joe told Rachel that while she was making lunch he had to run a small errand and would be back. He took Mingus and left in his truck which he had loaded with fishing equipment and supplies earlier. He drove into the woods and parked the truck in an spot with an obstructed view. Nobody would see the truck here. They hiked back to the house.
“How we looking Joe?”
“Okay I guess.”
“What do you mean, you guess? You’re not having second thoughts are you?”
“No Mingus, I’m just trying to cover all the bases. I just feel weird. I’ll be okay though”
As they arrived at the house and entered the kitchen Joe saw that lunch was almost ready. Rachel had set up the picnic table in the yard and was about to go out with a large tray of food.
“Joe, would you please bring the iced tea?”
“Sure thing Rach.” he said
He opened a drawer and removed a ziplock bag with the Ambien. He crushed up a bunch of the pills and put them into the tea and stirred it vigorously, then took it out to the yard. Lunch was fine except for the hyperactive boys knocking things over, running around the yard and harassing the dog.
“Did you get a chance to do those gutters yet?” asked Rachel
“No I didn’t get to it.”
“Dammit Joe! It’s important. The rainy season is almost here. And I notice that the lawn needs mowing too. Is it too much to ask that you take care of a few chores around the house? Honestly!”
“I’m sorry dear” he said sweetly “I’ll take care of everything real soon. More tea?”
“Why yes, thank you. I’m just parched from the trip back this morning.”
It wasn’t long before everybody was in bed, sleeping soundly. It was late afternoon and it was getting time to leave. Joe went into the living room and carefully shattered a lightbulb without breaking the filament inside. He turned on the light. He then went into the entryway and did the same thing. These lights were furthest from the kitchen. He then went into the kitchen, killed the pilot light in the oven (thank God he hadn’t bought that new one that Rachel had wanted with the electric ignition yet), opened the door and turned on the gas. He then put Mingus on a leash and left the house. When the gas built up and made its way to the exposed light filaments it would be ignited and that would be the end.
He hiked to the truck and headed out of town to his favorite fishing hole where he propped himself up with a thermos of coffee and cast a couple of lines. When he returned home the next morning with a stringer full of fish, he found the street full of fire engines and police cars. He approached the officer on the scene and identified himself. Two detectives came over and gave him the news that his home had been destroyed by a gas fire and that his family was dead. He gave an Oscar winning performance, feigning hysteria, foaming at the mouth and swearing at God, and ultimately collapsing. After being checked out by the EMTs on the scene he told the detectives that he would get a hotel room somewhere and let them know where they could reach him for further information, and then packed himself and Mingus into the truck and left.
As they drove to find a room Joe thought about the plot, looking for any exposure or problems he might expect from the police.
“What do you think Joe?” Mingus asked
“I think it went pretty well. I really don’t see any problems. I think we’re good.” he said
“What do you mean we?”
“I mean you and me buddy. We’re partners now man. I mean, I know you’re a dog, but hey, without you I would have never gotten up off my ass and changed my life.”
“Hey, don’t blame this shit on the dog you asshole! You don’t really think you have a fucking talking dog do you? What kind of asshole are you?”
“Wait, I don’t understand Mingus. You said…”
“Mingus said?! Are you stupid or what? YOU said, you asshole. I’m YOU. Your goddamned dog can’t talk! It’s you! It’s been you all along! You just murdered your whole fucking family because you wanted to think the family dog was telling you to! What a loser! Are you happy now? You get to buy a Porsche, but wait, first you get to bury your whole family. You know, the woman you loved and the only woman who’s ever cared about you? And two innocent children who worshipped you? Well they’re crispy critters now you crazy bastard! The only person in your life now is me! And I’m YOU!”
Joe almost lost control of the truck and had to react quickly to recover the vehicle. What had he done? How would he live with himself? How could he have been so confused? He was beside himself. As he plunged into despair he realized the gravity of his actions. He had killed his family. He’d never be able to live with the guilt, or the absence of his loved ones.
“That’s it. I can’t live with this. I’m going to kill myself.” he said looking down at Mingus
“Well then shut up and get it over with.” the dog replied
Comments