Another Man's Wife plus 3 Other Tales of Horror by David Bernstein Page A

in the bedroom
changing.”
    Garrett, still clenching Beth’s hand, flew
down the stairs. The two adulterers moving like two practiced
ballerinas, quiet and graceful.
    Beth tried the front door, it was locked.
“Try the back. Go, go, go,” she said, shoving Garrett away.
    Garrett took off, running through the living
room, arriving seconds later in the kitchen. Garrett hesitated,
afraid to fail again. He walked to the backdoor, took a deep breath
and grabbed the doorknob. He turned the knob, but it too, like all
the other windows and doors, wouldn’t open. He felt more defeated
than frustrated, like a beaten fighter after a long bout.
    “Well?” Beth whispered harshly from around
the corner.
    “No, it won’t open. What’s with your
house?”
    Beth came sliding around the corner, her
socks acting as if the polished wood floor were made of ice.
“Harold’s got to fix this dump.”
    Garrett lived in a small two bedroom
apartment with his wife. They both had low paying jobs and
struggled to pay the bills. Beth was being a bitch for complaining
about her large house, which by most people’s standards was above
normal. She had three bathrooms, a three car garage, an in-ground
swimming pool and a hot tub on the first floor porch.
    “Get in the cellar,” she said before sliding
across the ceramic tiles to the cellar door.
    “I’m not hiding in there.” Garrett crossed
his arms, refusing to move.
    “If he finds you, he’ll kill you.”
    Harold was a six foot four inch mass of a
man. He always wore work-boots and blue jeans. The few times he’d
come into the G-Mart, he was quiet and mild mannered. To Garrett,
he resembled a grizzly bear on tranquilizers. Nonetheless, the man
was intimidating in his appearance.
    “Get in there, now,” Beth demanded, bouncing
up and down like a spoiled child.
    “Honey,” Harold’s voice boomed from around
the corner like a distant clap of thunder from an approaching
storm.
    Beth’s eyes lit up as if a hundred watt bulb
were behind them. Garrett absorbed her fear and jumped through the
doorway, Beth quietly shutting the door behind him.
    Garrett paused on the first step down as he
heard muffled, but audible words.
    “Did you get a new cell phone, babe?”
    “No, why?”
    “I found this on the night stand.”An object,
small and plastic sounding, smacked against the kitchen table,
before sliding across it.
    “I found it earlier in the parking lot of the
grocery. Thought I’d take it home and see if I recognized any of
the numbers. Maybe call them and let them know I had their
phone.”
    Garrett nearly tumbled backwards, catching
himself on the handrail. He quickly checked his pockets. His phone
was gone. In the rush to leave he had forgotten to take it.
    “Well, did you?” Harold asked.
    “Yeah, no one I know.” Silence followed for a
few seconds before Beth spoke again. “Let’s go out for a bite since
you’re home early.”
    “Not in the mood.”
    “We hardly ever go out, please?”
    “I got work to do in the cellar. I
can’t.”
    Garrett spun around. The stairs were dimly
lit from a what looked like sunlight. He had to get down the stairs
and hide. His first step was fine, but the second one creaked
loudly, as if he’d hurt it. Garrett cursed to himself. He remained
motionless, letting out a slow breath. He’d have to wait and avoid
any further noise. Beth would think of something, but before
Garrett could take another breath the doorknob behind him began to
squeak.
    He spun around on his toes, making sure to
leave the pressure on them. The door was slowly opening, leading to
his impending end. He held tight to the banister, not sure what
else to do, like cornered prey. A section of the kitchen came into
view, followed by the back of Harold’s checkered flannel.
    “I’m tired of this,” Beth yelled. You’re
always busy with something. Can’t we just spend the day
together?”
    Garrett braced himself, getting ready to
shoot up the stairs and try to make it