#71 Why - Cen Fath

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I switched on the small flashlight I found in one of the many over filled kitchen cupboards at White Pine. The slim beam of light did little to help me navigate my way through the green space at the back of the Bull Frog Country Club, and I was thankful for the total lack of bumps and holes due to an over attentive grounds crew.

The night air was moist form an earlier rain and the material of my sneakers were soaked by the time I reached the mulched path. I took my time weaving under and around loose branches, not in any hurry to reach my destination. Each time I'd met with Monroe – planned or not – my body went numb. Similar to the out of body experience that overcame me in my dreams, I was unsure that I could control myself when I was in his presence. Emotions would overtake me as I spoke.

That was what I found to be the most dangerous about Monroe, and maybe why my mother didn't want to leave him at first. He was intoxicating in the worst way, to the point where you weren't aware that time was passing. When I first stormed into his office I had no idea the manipulation he was capable of, he masked it so well as he sat beside me filling my ears with lies.

I was reminded every night of who he was when my body lunged forward waking me from a painful scene of Monroe taking a chain saw to my mother's bench or throwing me out of his thirty-two story building. Each time after that I prepared myself more and more, but it never failed to come as a shock.

Tonight I wanted to be different - I knew it would be different. For once I felt powerful, we were on a seesaw that had tipped his way but now it was lowering gradually. My mother's journal in my hands became lighter and lighter no longer weighting me down with 'what ifs' and doubts. Her words and my connection to them through her paintings and the pond before me buoyed me like a hot air balloon as I rose above Monroe.

The clearing was empty for the moment and I gravitated toward the edge and circled around to the more narrow curve closest to the bench. Soft croaks of the frogs filled the air with pockets of silence as they waited for others to answer. A cloud passed over the moon leaving only a sliver of her light to dip into the pond illuminating a few of the lily pads that covered the water like overlapping tiles.

"Lovely evening isn't it?"

Plucked from my lost thoughts I took a step back and swiveled to see Monroe. He stood several feet away in the shadows where the moon's light didn't reach.

I didn't answer as he took a step forward both hands clasped behind the back of his impeccable navy suit. Fighting the urge to clutch my locket at the sight of him I let out a deep breath and closed the distance between us until there we stood two feet apart.

"Let's get this over with, I have a wife and family to go home to," He taunted releasing his hands he brought one arm out to fiddle with his cufflinks as if he were bored waiting on his dry cleaning.

I held my ground. "You wouldn't want to lose one of those here."

He laughed tilting his head back in amusement. Although he was slim, Monroe was a good six inches taller than me. I kept Mo Soileireacht behind my back as we spoke. Lyle instructed me to try and not focus on the possibility of violence, but at the same time to be cautious. Up until his entrance I was doing my best to heed her warning that if my guard was up too high it could act as a blinder and inhibit my ability to detect or diffuse a situation.

This was much easier said than done as he took a half step toward me and leaned down getting in my face as he sneered. "Where is Mo Soileireacht?"

At his advance I felt my consciousness look frantically for the exit door in my body. The flight instinctively overpowering the fight, but tonight I knew I needed to take a different route. I locked the door, erasing it from my mind's eye as I willed my entire body to stay in the moment and fight for my mother's memory. "I won't give it to you, not until you tell me why you killed her."

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