Chapter 5: Look What You Made Me Do _ “Who’s Eating Harry Dick?" _ dark comedy crime caper short story
Copyright 2017 John A. Conte, Jr. mystrawhat.com & TheNewEverydayMedia.com
Sara Morehouse has been dating Harry for 5 years now. Light-up Night in the city of Pittsburgh Friday November 17, 2017 was also their fifth year anniversary. She still had not been inside of Harry’s house yet. That was a problem. Sara wanted Harry Dick to come home to a surprise.
Harry’s mother was a loving, dotting, caring matriarch of a family mostly made up of men. Henrietta Dick couldn’t wait for a daughter-n-law which therefore is why she was so pleased to see Sara Morehouse at her front door. “Oh what a delight!” Harriet had a smile across her face that was genuinely welcoming. Her eyes beamed as she let Sara inside, “come on in young lady!”
Being likable was never an issue with Sara. She was very likable. She dressed neat and her clothes complimented her healthy figure. Sara had on black slacks and high heels, an off white blouse and a light blue cashmere cardigan sweater and a pearl necklace. Her blond hair pulled back off her attractive face. She looked smart. And she was.
Sara Morehouse was employed as a forensic scientist working in a crime lab. She not only had a bachelors degree from California State University of Pennsylvania - she also achieved a PhD. Her salary was on the higher end making $91, 400 a year which in Pittsburgh went a long way. Her glasses were fashionable purchased at SEE on Walnut Street in Shadyside.
Henrietta didn’t have the opportunity to go off to college. Harriet married Sam Dick shortly after high school. Sam Dick came from a farming family. Sam Dick’s grandfather, George Dick, proudly pictured in an old black & white photograph, hung in an oval frame in the dinning room where Harriet and Sara were seated.
Over Earl Grey tea Sara excitedly shared her plans to surprise Harriet’s son, Harry, on their fifth year anniversary. “Sure, I’ll give you the emergency key Harry left with me,” Harriet still displayed her wide smile, “you know I’m besides myself waiting for grandchildren! And Sam and I all but have given up on that idea for our Chet.” Henrietta shouted out, “that boy won’t grow up! He’s just a big momma’s boy!” It was loud enough Chet may have heard from his favorite position on the couch in the family room, though, most likely the TV was probably too loud.
Sara Morehouse wanted kids too! Her first husband turned out to be a dud. He looked like a stud. Nevertheless, he was a definite dud. He had a herniated disc and became hooked on pain killers. Pills soon led to a cheaper more available solution that did not require a doctor’s prescription, heroin. Consequently, Sara hated drugs. Drugs were the cause of her divorce as far as she concerned.
At the training required for forensic scientist working in the county crime lab is where she met Harry Dick. The police academy training challenged Sara in new ways and that is what she needed at that time looking to start a new life. Harry Dick practically won her over instantly. Harry’s encouragement during the police academy training translated into a reaffirmation for Sara’s biological clock that kept striking with loud gongs at high noon.
Passing Pittsburgh’s newest and second location for a “cat cafe” Sara hurried along Butler Street in Lawrenceville. What a wonderful life Sara was living. She exuded happiness as she purposefully floated down the sidewalk with the holiday lights she purchased from the hardware store. What a surprise awaiting Harry Dick.
Harry was on the land of the person his folks bought hay from out in Evan’s City. He was squatting in a wooded thicket in a cattail slough. Against a downed tree Harry peeled a small pelt of deer fur from the log. He put the fur up to his nose and then pressed it to his cheeks and finally twirling it in between his fingers almost as if in some kind of trance.
If that buck from the bed didn’t catch the scent of an impending threat, Harry did. Uncharacteristically, Harry Dick pulled out from stalking his buck. In his Ford F-150 pick up truck he sped down 279 toward the city. By the time he got to his home he was anxious, paranoid and uncomposed. Harry Dick rushed through the door. As he heard stirring from the kitchen, he drew his gun from its side arm shoulder holster. He tip toed lightly down that hallway.
Approaching the kitchen Harry Dick commanded, “freeze, right there!” Sara panicked. Whirling around her arm squarely struck her purse on the counter which bulldozed the mason jars from on top of the kitchen towel and onto the floor. Smash! Glass shattered upon impact. “What the fuck?!” Harry Dick demanded while backhanding Sara’s head with enough force down upon her to bring her to her knees.
Sara knelt on glass as she coward frantically covering her head and face. Harry Dick towered over her and delivered another blow to the head. “Stop! Stop! Stop!” Sara was quickly pleading emphatically. Harry Dick was enraged, unhinged. “Look what you made me do,” Harry powerfully screamed matter-of-factly, “look what you made me do!”
Coincidentally, those were the same words Donald J. Trump whispered in the ear of Rhonda Darewyzki’s mother after she having jacked-him-off under the table at The 21 Club. “Look what you made me do,” Donald J. Trump grinned looking down at his wad of sperm ejaculated into Rhonda’s mother’s dinner napkin of The 21 Club. “Look what you made me do.”
Chapter 5: Look What You Made Me Do _ “Who’s Eating Harry Dick?" _ dark comedy crime caper short story
Copyright 2017 John A. Conte, Jr. mystrawhat.com & TheNewEverydayMedia.com
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