Flights of Rage

FLIGHTS OF RAGE

  By

  Rara Montenegro

  * * * * *

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Flights of Rage

  Copyright © 2011 by Rara Montenegro

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  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  I watched them take the remains of my husband of forty years. I found him lifeless; his body lay on the white marble floor of his office. His blood was everywhere. Somebody had shot him in the chest. I shed tears, they were genuine. The investigators were overflowing with sympathy. They will never miss any evidence, they said, and my husband's murderer will pay.

  I had a conversation with him four hours before my trial. I had told him that I might not be home till Thursday, for my client has to be taken out of the prison and out of the death row, or at least be granted a stay. He said it was alright, he will not be home either. He had a major operation to perform.

  But it was not really what we talked about.

  All of those years, I lived with deceit and betrayal. My husband, George, was a wonderful man. He had been there for me for almost fifty years. Our love resulted into whirlwind marriage. He had been my friend since we were in college. It could have been such a blissful marriage, if he had not talked about Carlisle.

  I am walking back to our room. It was wide, decorated with brown wallpaper. Its floor is of ebony. The chairs were made of mahogany, and we used to sit there and drink tea. Sometimes we would take sips of wine and talk about our work and about the good times we have had when we were young, and we would avoid talking about Carlisle. My Carlisle. The chairs were situated near the patio. A mountain can be seen from there. I could not see it for the sky was dim, ready to weep for the life of a deceitful man.

  I headed to a door in this room of ours. It is our bedroom. It is a simple room. It had a large glass window above our bed. The latter had white satin sheets and two pillows. A huge mirror is on my left. I looked at myself, and I could see a young lady of twenty-one staring back at me. She had wavy, black hair. Her eyes were brown and her nose was aquiline. She had a prominent forehead. Her lips were small and pink. She wore my black lace dress, the one I wore in Carlisle's funeral. It did fit on her slender body.

  What could have happened if Carlisle was still alive? I could have broken my engagement to George. The young lady had tears in her eyes.

  Carlisle will still be alive if you did, Ross. He could still be living until now!

  I could hear her talking, and my tears ran down my face. Rage flew all over me. Had I known George's motives when he became Carlisle's doctor, I could have saved the latter's life.

  My eyes met the young Ross' eyes, and we went back to time when everything started.

  I could see myself, in the body of the young Ross Hall, sitting in a park, and waiting for the twenty-two year-old George Caldwell on a sunny Thursday afternoon. The bench I sat on was near a clear, narrow river. I stood to look into the clear waters. The water flowed fast and silently, and I could see tiny fishes swimming along the current. I was so enthralled by the sight that I did not notice anyone coming to approach me.

  "Good afternoon, miss. I assume you are enjoying such a splendid sight."

  I turned to see a tall man, with brown hair and blue eyes looking at me thoughtfully. His voice was deep. He wore a white shirt and blue trousers. It took me a minute to talk.

  "Oh, well, sir, I am," I replied, smiling at him. He smiled back at me, and then looked at the fishes.

  He then asked, "Why is such a beautiful woman alone? Are you not supposed to be escorted?"

  My cheeks were suddenly warm, "I am waiting for my betrothed."

  "Oh, betrothed?" he said in a disappointed tone, his eyes were wide and he managed to smile, "Oh, by the way, I am Carlisle Matthews," he retorted, extending his hand.

  "Ross Hall. It is nice to meet you, Carlisle.”

  "You should not let your fiancé make you wait for him. It is really disappointing when it should be us men who would women wait for."

  "Oh, that has what has been ever since, Carlisle," said I, "It had always been that way."

  "I could not make a beautiful woman like you wait for me."

  Both of us looked into the water. I did not talk for quite a while until he asked me about my life.

  "What do you do, Ross?"

  "I am a Law student. What about you?" I asked him back.

  "I am a composer, and you made me write a song in my mind, miss."

  I smiled at him and he sang his composition.

  Your eyes are like diamonds

  They are worth dying for

  Clear as the waters in this spring

  They make my heart sing

  Your lips are as red as apples

  They are sweeter than sugar

  I would die for a single kiss

  That is something I do not want to miss

  You are beautiful, my dear

  You make the angels feel ashamed

  And they cannot be blamed

  For you have all the world's riches

   "Your voice is wonderful, Carlisle," I said, "Your song is splendid."

  "Thank you, and the song was for you, Ross."

  George called my attention. Carlisle and I turned to see him. His face had no trace of emotion. He had black hair and black eyes. He was also tall, and was wearing a black suit.  

  "I am sorry, I took so long. Are you ready to go, Ross?" he inquired, ignoring Carlisle.

  "Not yet, George. I'd like you to meet Carlisle Matthews," I said to George, "And Carlisle, this is George Caldwell, my betrothed," to Carlisle.

  The men exchanged gestures. George excused himself and went back to his car.

  "I hope I see you again, Ross," Carlisle whispered as he smiled at me, "I would write you songs."

  "I hope so, Carlisle. Thank you for staying with me here. I appreciate it," I replied and bade goodbye to him.

  I went into George's car. We headed north. His parents were waiting for us. "You should not talk to strangers, Ross," I heard him say.

  I did not say any word. I left him when we arrived. He was not in his pleasant mood but everything changed when he came in.

  "Oh, George," Aunt Rose called him, "What do you want for dinner?" she asked.

  "Whatever would be served tonight will do, mother," he replied as he smiled, "Excuse us for a while. Ross and I have something to talk about."

  "Do you two have a problem?" Uncle Graham inquired with a tone of concern.

  "Oh, no, father. We are going to talk about our wedding. I want it to take place as soon as possible."

  I was shocked to hear the things George had said. I gazed at him, with my eyes wide open, asking him why our wedding would be in such a rush. He smiled at me and grabbed my arm and left his delighted parents.

  "What were you talking about, George?" I asked him in a hoarse voice.

  "Listen, Ross Hall, I want us to get married as soon as possible. I know I am being too fast but I cannot wait to live with you, to serve you. To cherish you for the rest of our lives. Are you not happy with such wonderful news?" he asked back, his eyes glowed as they looked into mine.

  "Of course, my dear, but really I do not want to rush things."

  He looked angrily at me and said, "Don't tell me that you are
attracted to that Carlisle?"

  "I - I am not," I answered. I was confused.

  "If you are not, we should get married after graduation. I will have everything settled."

  Both of us had a year to finish college. I had a year to figure out whether to see Carlisle or to stay with George. I know I was attracted to Carlisle the first time I saw him, and yet, I still thought I was in love with George.

  We had a year to wait. I began seeing Carlisle without George's knowledge. We would meet in the riverbank in that park during the wee hours of the night. We communicated through letters. Each from him had songs in them, and he would sing those songs to me everytime we meet.

  It feels wonderful when your love is returned

  By someone you cherish the most

  It feels too good to be true

  That you think that it was a dream

  And you wish you would never wake up

  It feels wonderful when your love is returned

  When you know you love each other

  When you know it would last forever

  You would dedicate your life

  To your beloved every day that passes by

   "I love you, Ross," said Carlisle as he looked in my eyes. We could see the stars and the moon was in its full phase. Carlisle was my lover, the man I wanted to see before my day ends.

  "I love you, too, Carlisle."

  We lay under the sky, on the grasses. He turned to look at me, "My dear, why don't we elope?" he asked.

  I was surprised, "Elope? Why?"

  "We could go to a place where nobody knows us. We can start our family there."

  "But, Carlisle, I am not finished with my studies yet," I answered, "And I will