An Attempt on My Life
The detective shined the light above directly in my face as he leaned over the table.
“And you are absolutely positive about this ma’am?”
He looked in the direction of what appeared to be a mirror but I knew the truth.
“It took a while for it to truly sink in, but I am absolutely sure,” I said.
How many times would I have to repeat my story before someone would take me seriously?
“You are going to have to make a statement. Can you start from the beginning please?”
“…….. and I was still recooperating from the fundraiser the day before. The hubby took last Sunday off because we were all just completely exhausted. We decided that we’d head over to his parents house to help his mom reach some boxes. She was still trying to get her house unpacked. On the way over to their house we stopped at Sonic to get some grub. We ate in the car and finished up in front of their house before heading in.
It was worse than we expected. The moving company did a horrible job and made off with thousands of dollars. The boxes were scattered and put in rooms where they didn’t belong. Grandma couldn’t even find her clothes (you see our dilemma and urgency here). We made a decision that would ultimately change the course of our lives, or at least mine. We decided to completely empty all moving boxes into the driveway and start over.
About two hours into moving all the boxes out of the 3 car garage, a bottle of insecticide spilled across the cabinets and onto the floor. Being the clutz that I am, I somehow managed to get it all over my hands. I immediately went inside to wash my hands and grabbed the roll of paper towels. I took the roll out with me and wiped up the insecticide off the cabinets and floor. At about that time, the hubby decided to move the safes and I was needed to supervise. By the time the first safe was moved, my sinuses were killing me. I stuck my fingers in my mouth and put pressure on my back teeth (it’s the only thing that helps sometimes). The pressure felt great, but within thirty minutes I started having some abdominal pain. At first I dismissed the pain and tried to continue working like I usually do when things go awry. This time, my body wasn’t having it.
It wasn’t long before I was in so much pain that I couldn’t stand up straight. I became nauseous, dizzy and disoriented. When I realized that I couldn’t walk or form a sentence, I signaled that I needed to go home. The hubby quickly got me in the car and even left my purse behind. Trying to figure out what happened, he suspected that I had just ingested some of the insecticide. I had washed my hands the first time, but not after cleaning up the spill. By the time we reached our house I was extremely sick. Bucket and all, I lay in bed wishing that someone would just shoot me.”
“And where was your husband during this time?”
“He went back to finish helping his parents. Ahem. of course”
“I see. You may continue.”
Being as I was not about to spend any amount of time in a hospital emergency room, I decided to Google the insecticide to see how long it would take me die. After all, I had a funeral service to prepare and a will to write out. My search led me to some very interesting information.”
“Interesting? How so?”
“Well for one, there is apparently a very thin line of how much pesticide will make you sick and how much will kill you. The immense amount of abdominal pain was probably the ulcers being burned into my stomach lining and I would have a difficult time eating for weeks. I would eventually have kidney pain and liver pain as my body tries to process and eliminate the toxic chemicals. Fever, joint pain, disorientation and muscle fatigue were some things I would be looking forward to.”
“And did all of those things happen?”
“Of course. That’s why I’m here. You see, I’ve been in so much pain and unable to eat that I’ve started to pay closer attention to the things around me. My hubby has acted all concerned and shit but is he really? I think not detective. He sits next to me making stupid faces while repeating everyday how only I could be this retarded. Only me? How about no, detective. How about only him?”
“Only him? So you are saying that your husband is somehow responsible for this?”
“Duh! Think about it…… he insists on working on the garage which wasn’t the original plan at all. He knocks over the bottle of insecticide, knowing damn well that I’d be the one to clean it up. He distracts me by moving the safe so that I never got a chance to wash my hands the second time. Then he uses his voodoo magic to cause sinus pain, which results in my fingers being put in my mouth. Then he dumps me off on the children, knowing that they would completely ignore me because they were too busy with their friends. Then he tries to brainwash me into thinking it was all my fault with the “only you could be be this retarded”.
The detective took a deep breath, looked at his watch and stood up.
“So it was the husband? Interesting. So you are saying that your husband is intelligent enough to rearrange your plans, distract you, use voodoo magic on you, leave you alone with the children, and brainwash you? Huh…… Have you even met your husband?”
I thought about it……wiped the sweat off my forehead and realized that I had just broken a fever.
“You are absolutely right detective. I didn’t look at it that way. I’m sorry I wasted your time.”