Ahhhh... Sunday night. Normally a typical, run of the mill, hum-drum, plain ol' night. But this time I had the house to myself while Gregg was out for his annual Fantasy Football Draft. After watching "Locked Up Abroad" - a show that I love but find a little bit too frightening sometimes - I decided that I had exceeded my quota of television watching for the week so off it went. In keeping with my 1980's bender, I grabbed my ipod and shuffled up a ridiculously cheesy but awesome 80's playlist. Once a few candles were lit, I fixed my recliner into maximum-comfort position and picked up where I had left off in my Real Simple magazine. Brody was lying on the rug, looking sharp in his new festive, black bandanna. All was right with the world... well at least my living room.
Peacefully humming along to some random Survivor song I heard "WHAT THE FUUUUUCKKKK!!!!!!" My heart literally stopped, scared stiff at the decibel of this murderous yell. I threw my magazine, little subscription cards flew out of it and landed in various places as I ran through the dining room to listen at the slider through the screen. Again, "WHAT THE FUUUUUCKKKK!!!!!!" - this time even louder. With Brody by my side, I was crouched in the dark, ear up against the screen, looking out into blackness. The voice was coming from the yard behind ours that shares our fence.
Now, I hate fights. I get nervous when I hear anyone yell to this extreme. Nothing good can possibly be on deck after a yell like THAT. I don't even like to be around an argument. And this was no argument... this man was upSET. It wasn't the kind of yell you'd give if, say, someone scratched your car or if the grill ran out of gas just as you put your steak on it and every store in America was closed. This was a yell that could only express one of two things - 1.) Oh my God you just stabbed me ... or 2.) I have just found you cheating on me with my best friend. And my mind is convinced that it is option #1.
After the two neighborhood-piercing exclamations it was somewhat quiet. Then, I hear HER. She (I am assuming they are husband and wife) is screaming at him but I couldn't make out any of the words. He is thundering back. I hear banging and slamming. In my mind, he is stumbling around with two, possibly three, stab wounds and she is a knife-wielding lunatic, channeling Shelly Duvall in The Shining. Of course I pondered calling the police but I had mixed feelings about it for many reasons. I hear more rustling and yelling and muffled crying and screaming ... and then HIS voice is gone. I listen for screeching tires, a motorcycle or even a squeaky bicycle - NOTHING. He clearly did not leave the house. So, now, I am figuring he is unconscious or possibly dead in the kitchen floor. (Why the kitchen? Just what my mind pictured. Linoleum and all). I hear their back door open followed by sobbing - the most haunting sobs I have ever heard. It was creepy to just hear crying like that coming out of the vast blackness of the yard. I can't be certain on this but I am about 95% sure I heard her sobbing "Oh God, forgive me, please forgive me." And that was that. The whole situation lasted about 15 minutes but I left my ear to that door for a solid 25.
Now, obviously, I am going to create my own scenarios and draw my own conclusions. I really only allowed those 2 previously mentioned options as possibilities based on how emotional his yell was. If it had been a cheating scenario - WHY would SHE be yelling back and defending herself to him? She would be crying, yes, but I don't see how a back and forth argument would be appropriate. If she stabbed him, he would be screaming in pain and disbelief (check) and then he would most likely be down for the count (check). She would be left to wander the yard crying for forgiveness (possible check). I am no Sherlock Holmes but I think I nailed this case shut. Why didn't I call the police, you ask? Well, I considered it at first. But I was slightly unsure exactly which house it was (until the end of the dispute) and I didn't know what to say "Hi, I hear yelling and banging at a house on a street" ... yeah, no. I did drive by this morning and there was no caution tape. Nothing out of the ordinary. But you can bet that tonight I will have my binoculars ready - I will catch her digging that grave if it's the last thing I do !!!!