Sarah, the Man-slayer  − 17 March, 2007

She rested her head against the tile, and for a moment it seemed as if she'd fallen asleep. I wouldn't have been surprised. But she spoke, and her words cut into the silence and echoed through the bathroom. She shifted in the bathtub, agitating the water and causing it to threateningly lick the sides of the tub. Her eyes remained closed.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I killed a guy?"

I wasn't drunk enough for this to pass me by completely. "No, Sarah, you haven't."

"Well, I did. So, I used to work in this kennel, and part of my job was to wash the animals that came in. This one woman, real snob bitch, brought in this beautiful collie dog. I can't remember her name. Anyway, after I washed the dog, I put her in this room in the back. I go about my business, until about an hour later I realize that the door is open, and the damn dog is gone. I can't find it anywhere. So I call my boss and tell him what happened, and he shows up a little while later, and he's got the woman who owns the dog with him. Turns out she'd forgotten to tell us that the fuckin dog knew how to work door handles. Being her mistake, she offers a five hundred dollar reward to anyone who finds the dog.

"'No,' my boss says, 'Make it a thousand, and I'll pay for it.'

"So of course the woman agrees, and eventually the dog is found in the parking lot of some restaurant down the street. My boss, who's one of those greasy Asian types by the way, pays the reward. He takes me off to the side later that day and tells me that the thousand dollars is coming out of my check.

"I was fucking pissed off, and I told him that that was bullshit. I said I'd pay it, but I wasn't working for him anymore."

I pulled in a breath, noting that the air in the bathroom felt as if it'd gotten thicker, and I wonder where all of this is going. I lit another cigarette from the butt of my last one.

"Okay, so," she continued, "a few days after that, I go over to the kennel when I know the bastard is working, and I cut the fucking break cables on his bike."

"You didn't."

"I swear to God I did, Josh. He drives off from work that day, he tries to stop someplace, gets into an accident and fucking dies. I'm not kidding."

"Wow, Sarah," I said.

"What can I say," she said. "But thanks for talking to me. You can go if you want, I'm alright now. I'm about to get out go downstairs anyway."

"Yeah, I think I'm going to go pass out," I said, climbing to my feet. I flicked the newly spent butt into the toilet and opened the door. I made it to my couch downstairs, and I sat there alone for a while, unable to sleep, wondering if there was anything left in the house to drink. Eventually, Sarah came out of her and James' room and sat in the easy chair next me. I can't remember most of what she said, or how long she was there. Only that she was gone when I woke up.