Will Baker is Dead, Episode 2 - "Compliance"

The slow Summer sun rolled across her floor, softly climbing up the bed, until after a few minutes it landed gently on her troubled face. Jules had not slept well, but she was awoken by the morning sun and the consequential birds all the same. Her heart and mind were both very heavy from what occurred just the day before, and how permanently those occurrences would taint today and every day after. Blinking once or twice to put out the sun, Jules brushed her hair back off her face and turned in her bed. Her next lie was as strong as the words that backed it up, as she lovingly ran her fingers across the man in her bed and smiled, speaking sweetly and softly to him, “Good morning, William. What would you like for breakfast?”


She used to be one for sleeping in, but two years of teaching had finally pushed the habit out of her. Now, the sun was her alarm clock all summer long. It didn’t help that her husband was responsible for opening the bank sharply at 8am. She had to get up and ready so he could. Just as the sun was her alarm, so was she for her husband. The poor man was helpless when it came to mornings. As smart as he was, and as well as he did in college, she had gotten used to calling him every morning to make sure he was up and ready for class.

Jules sat at the mirror doing her make-up while Will took a shower. They say that when two people are married, it requires the sacrificing of habits and old ways of life. Jules preferred quiet mornings where she could get ready in peace with the sound of the day coming on her slowly. Will preferred the morning show on WHRZ, the usual country station giving way to a morning full of classic rock and weekend hits. At least at present it was playing some Tom Petty, so Jules had a little bit of a compromise with fate, it seemed. Even still, this was nothing like his habit of constantly whistling the same old sad bar songs, his favorite being “Wurlitzer Prize.” Jules married Will because he was smart, had talent, and showed few of the country habits of most of the men in Horizon. It would figure that he would wait until after the honeymoon to show the worst one off.

Still, as Jules looked in the mirror, it took all of her strength not to cry. There sat a beautiful young woman of 25, long blonde hair and perfect features, wanting nothing more than to smash the image ahead of her in judgment for who she had become. If not for the music and the shower, she very well might. In the last month or two, she had grown too used to the empty mornings and the empty house that came with Will travelling. She had grown too used to filling her time with other friends and falling back into her own habits that when he was home, she couldn’t stand to revert. The conflict of heart that she presently faced with the courage of a warrior would only last so long until one side won out. A good few minutes after she finished applying the make-up, Jules still sat looking ahead in silence at the person mocking her from the other side. The person she was destined to become, one way or another. It was either that or a future of half-living and half-loathing. The question was which half merited the loathing?

After she mustered the courage to stand, Jules donned her favorite white bathrobe, the one with the cotton fuzz texture to it, and made a light breakfast for her and Will, balancing the bacon with some fresh fruit. If they were planning to have a baby soon, Jules needed to work on her dietary skills. The bacon popped and sizzled, occasionally catching her on the hand or her bare feet. If anyone had managed to look in through the open window, it would seem like Jules was participating in a perfect, mid-summer morning. The aroma of bacon melded with the dissipating rain that washed away in the sunlight after last night’s storm, creating a unique atmosphere, perfect for conversation. It would be, the one morning that she had hoped to avoid such things.

“That smells delicious, baby. And what’s this? Honeydew? I am spoiling you with the grocery budget.”

“I have my own money I can buy exotic fruits with,” laughed Jules, attempting to live up to her usual playfulness. “Now sit down and eat before you leave, it’s gonna be a long evening before dinner.”

“Really? Which one of us has a late night commitment?” Will asked, somewhat genuinely as he had a tendency to forget appointments.

“Oh, uh…don’t you have to work late tonight?” Knowing full well that he would be off at 6pm as usual, “And I don’t want you going hungry in those late meetings, or gorging yourself at some expensive lunch with a client. Just you remember that we don’t have the money that your people do, and if we’re going to start a family soon.”

Will smiled in his own way, looking down at the melon and grapes. “That’s right, we can’t waste that eighty-thousand a year I bring in, of course coupled with the meager salary of a hard working, slave driven third-grade teacher. We’ll be in the poor house before you know it.”

By now he was up behind her, running a hand across her stomach, approximately where a baby would first show. His left hand held hers while she tried to finish the bacon, his head nuzzling hers out of the way to get a peek at it. Jules, already shaken from the talk of families and babies, grew quickly uncomfortable with the cheery demeanor of her husband. He had been notoriously sullen over the last two months, and now it was as if he had woken up on Christmas morning to find a new car with a free plasma screen inside. He was happy, and it bothered her.

Almost on the verge of tears, she eased him off with a nudge. “Oh, baby, come on. It’s early, and they don’t need me at the bank for another thirty minutes. It’s Monday morning, and honestly, who needs to go to the bank at 8am on Monday morning.”

“Small business owners and other hard working people at the foundation of America’s economy. That’s who,” again smiling, even though she spoke with tears just beneath her eyelids, somehow expressing the sentiment of a Fox News reporter. “But if you’re serious about some time apart, let’s go fishing this weekend. Forget the fish fry. You and me, we’ll go fishing up at the lake, or we’ll go down to County Line River. What do you say?” She hated herself for doing it, but Jules knew that talk of fishing would get him out the door and gone in a hurry. He hadn’t fished in years, not since his sister died, and she knew it. It was a horrible trick to pull, but she couldn’t stand the new, loving husband he was trying to be. If the charade were to work, she had to keep thinking of Will as cold and apart, and that wouldn’t happen when he was talking of hooky and soothing her robe.

Without a word, he went back to breakfast and finished his fruit quickly, not waiting for any bacon to add. The air grew thick between them, mostly due to the silence enforced by Will’s hard eyes and his forceful forking up of apple slices. “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to think of something we could do, and it…it just came out. Baby? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. If you plan on gardening this morning, be careful. The rain washed through it pretty hard, and everything’s awfully damp. The flowers oughta be in good shape this afternoon, but the ground is still pretty soft. Try not to ruin the grass.” He grabbed up his coat and pushed on to the door, it seemed intent on leaving without a goodbye. But at the touch of Jules’ hand, he tossed back a sincere and almost apologetic footnote on his warning. “Just…be careful, Julia. I love you, and I just want to watch out for you. You know that right?” He had turned back to look her in the eye, but had to lift her chin to get there. “You know that, right?”

“Right. I’ll see you this afternoon, baby. Be safe!” She shouted out to him as he walked to the car, like something out of a cliché, but still it was enough to elicit his return for a goodbye kiss. The long kiss goodbye reminded Jules of their wedding day, but now it was of a different subtlety. It was tainted by the seeming separation of the last little while, even though it seemed to Jules the image of sincerity and felt of nothing more than the longing of love.

“See you later.” He smiled back at her and stepped into his car and off to the bank. And just like that, the hardest morning of Jules’ life was over. She dropped the robe in the laundry like a bad mask, and put on her gardening clothes. She knew that you don’t win the Horizon Garden Club award a third straight year by slacking off, so she stepped on outside, tending to her garden in a therapeutic manner. The flowers had in fact perked up a bit as Will predicted they would, given the harsh summer storm that poured through town the night before. He would know, he had to drive in from the airport in it. She checked on her tomatoes and peppers, the only edible greenery that Jules grew, and thought how good they would be on a salad very soon. Truth be told, she only had enough to make one or two salads, but something about a garden with no produce really felt out of sorts to her. Often times people would comment on how it was indeed this artful blend of vegetation and flora that made her garden so unique and successful.

Everything was fine until she came to planting her new batch of azaleas in the side garden. The soil was moist and fertile from the rain, sure, but it was also very loose as if some small animal had been digging around in it and burrowing its way through her plants. As Jules knew, it was only so much you can do to fix up a garden right once moles or the like got in there, and if she needed one more thing right now, it wasn’t losing the garden that preserved her sanity.

That being the case, Jules stepped on up and walked over to her neighbor across the street, Mrs. Veronica Davis. Mrs. Davis was an old black lady who lived in Horizon, and one of the few who lived on the strip. She had first moved out there for her husband’s work before he retired, but when he died, she never had the strength to move back. Now, she spent most of her time sitting on the front porch and watching the world around her pass on by. This was especially true in the summer when she could sit out there in the warm sun and talk to the kids who would walk by and play in the street in front of her house. At one time, Mrs. Davis had been the best gardener in town. In fact, she won the Memorial Day Garden of the Year ten times, including the first four straight, a record that Jules planned on breaking. Now that Mrs. Davis was struck with a terrible arthritis, she couldn’t garden anymore. On an occasional afternoon, Jules would walk over on the precept of having tea with her neighbor and try to winnow out a few gardening tips from her.

“Good morning, ma’am. How are you today?” As expected, Jules found her neighbor sitting out on the front porch with her tea and medicine. “I hope you don’t mind my saying, but I saw that husband of yours leaving this morning, and I saw the kiss he planted on you as he left.” The old lady raised her eyebrow and gave a smile, knowing that she could only get away with speaking so honestly because of her age. “I sure am glad to see young couples like y’all getting on so well. Too many folks give up on love, marriage, and family. Makes me glad. Yes it does.”

Biting back, and hiding the pain, she passively agreed in kindness. “Well, thank you, Mrs. Davis. Is Archie by this week?”

“Oh yes, his mamma dropped him off last night while you were out. He’s still sleeping. That boy would sleep on through the day if I’d let him.”

“Will’s the same way. How is Archie? Is he liking middle school?”

“Oh, yeah. He loves it. He always hated walking in a line anywhere. That was his favorite part, finding out he didn’t have to walk in a line everywhere. But don’t let him catch you calling him Archie. He doesn’t go by that, anymore. He goes by his middle name now. It’s much cooler.”

“So, it’s…”

“It’s Jonah, now. Archibald Jonah Davis, just like his daddy. And his granddaddy. It’s funny, my Jonah never did like it, but it didn’t seem right to let him abandon a family name like that, so we named our son Jonah, and he named his Jonah, and now the crazy fool goes by Jonah. I tell you, his granddaddy would have a fit if anyone called him Jonah.” The two ladies shared a laugh and some tea, but then Veronica Davis, she knew what Jules was up to. “So tell me. Is something the matter with your garden, honey?”

“Yes, ma’am, it is. I was digging out in it this morning and I found what looked like a burrow. Did you ever have trouble with moles or anything?”

“Not usually, no, but one or two occasions I did. They lost me the ’83 Garden of the year, I don’t mind you knowing. But after a while, I learned to put a little pepper in my garden. Yes, black pepper,” she said, answering the doubting expression of Mrs. Baker. “Put a little black pepper in the soil around your plants and it’ll keep those bugs out of your garden for a whole season. It messes with their noses, and all those blind diggers have to see with their noses.”

“I…guess I’ll give it a try. Thank you, Mrs. Davis.”

“Anytime, my dear. And don’t you forget what I was saying about your husband. That’s a good solid love you’ve got there. Hold on to him. One day he’ll be gone like my Jonah,” she said with a twinkling in her eye that likely came from a tear just as much as her own happy memories. “And you know what they say. The men always die first.”

As the two laughed out a goodbye, Jules headed on back to the house, and then to the store to pick up some pepper, against her better judgment. If anyone in town had an idea of how to fix this problem, it was the original green thumb herself. So after Jules cleaned herself up and got ready, she went on down to the store and commenced shopping. She couldn’t help but think about Victoria’s parting words, though. How she should cherish the man in her life while she had him. Jules wondered what more she could do to cherish the man who had left her alone practically for the last two months? This morning aside, even when he was home, Will seemed to be across the world from her. And she couldn’t cherish Rob because it was just wrong.

Even being back here at his old store was difficult. Jules remembered the time that her and Rob stood in the backroom of the store avoiding the rain. He’d promised to drive her home after work, and she was soaked from head to toe. She wondered how different things would have been if she would have kissed him that night. Nothing had told her to, nothing had hinted to her that it was a good idea, but she just knew now that he had wanted it. He had wanted her. But she never gave in.

Jules moved down each and every aisle, looking to make sure she didn’t need anything else other than her mole deterrent. She knew right where the pepper was, but something about the domesticity in wandering a grocery store felt right to her. As Jules rounded aisle six, past the fresh seafood section, she spotted Mr. Laurence, the store owner. It was frightening because she had thought it was Will at first, as they were both of the same height and build, both fairly tall men with slim shoulders and appropriately thin brown hair, and she knew they had been mistaken for each other in school on occasion, so that made it a little easier on her. Oddly enough, her first thought wasn’t at how odd that Will wasn’t at the bank, but rather at the fact that he was wearing an apron.

Mr. Laurence’s wife had gone missing about a month back under strange circumstances. Police said there was “evidence of a struggle” and that she in all likelihood had been forced out of her home, but nothing further was ever found. Naturally, suspicion fell on Ames Laurence at first, but nothing could really ever be proven. Jules was good friends with Melissa, Ames’ wife, and never believed him capable of hurting his own lovely bride.

“Hi, Ames. How are you today?”

“I’m doing well enough, Mrs. Baker. How are you?” His response was full of the false cheer of a man in denial, mixed in with the false demeanor of a businessman addressing a friend between the hours of 9am to 5pm.

“I’m doing alright. Say, Will and I were planning on having a fish fry this weekend, would you like to come over?”

“I sure do appreciate it, and you know we’ll gladly sell you all the fish you could want back here behind aisle 6, but I can’t. I don’t think Will’s too happy with me right now.”

“He doesn’t blame you for what happened, Ames, you know that.”

“I think he really does, Mrs. Baker, he really does. You know how he felt about Melissa. They were close friends, once. But I didn’t hurt her, and I certainly didn’t kill her.” She had been referencing something else, trying at all costs to keep the conversation away from Melissa for the poor man’s benefit. Then again, thinking back to the girl you allegedly ran over while drunk back in high school wasn’t a much better memory. Either way, it was a rough road to hoe.

“I know, Ames, I know.” In an attempt to smooth the moment, Jules decided to change directions a bit. “Hey, you’ve been to the Caymans. How are they? I’ve been wanting to go ever since we got married, but Will’s been reluctant. How can I convince him to take me next Christmas, maybe?”

“It’s really nice. The water’s 80˚ all year and the locals are very friendly. And it’s tax free, so he should like that. Melissa and I went on our honeymoon a few years back and it was…it was nice.” And for the second time today, Jules had managed to bring a man to tears at a sad memory. The difference is, this one was an accident.

She put a calm hand on the man, growing smaller with each defense he was forced to give, and each moment he was forced to relive. Melissa’s disappearance hit him hard, but he had a business to run. Ames’ father opened the grocery store many years back, right after he moved to Horizon as a young man looking for a place to make a living. It made him quite a living, too. In all the years that Horizon grew, and in all the changes, no outside grocery store ever survived within earshot of Horizon Groceries. It did so well that when Ames inherited the business at an early age, he was able to buy up some land and build a shopping center around the grocery store. They had a small jewelry shop, some niche restaurants, and a Great Clips. Every small town has to have a Great Clips. Ames had even sold the land that Will’s bank was now occupying.

“But look at me, blubbering like a baby on the floor. I’ve gotta get back to work, but, uh, do you need help finding anything? Do you have everything ready for the fish fry?”

“No thank you, Ames, I have everything. I’m just looking for some pepper for my garden.”

“I can’t say that’s the most normal thing I’ve ever sold, but okay. If you need any help, ask. And if you see that friend of yours, Rob, tell him I really wish he’d come back and manage the stockroom for me. It never has run as well as when he managed the back.”

Putting out a civil smile, “I’ll certainly do that.” And that’s what made up her mind. Jules had been debating all day whether to go see Rob or not, after last night’s events. She found herself in his arms once out of fear in a storm, and out of loneliness from her husband’s missing touch, but it was wrong. It was sullen and soiled, and she couldn’t find herself in the same position again, but she had to let Rob know it was off before he did anything foolish.

Rob lived a little ways out of town, past the stores and neighborhoods into what was still old Horizon. He preferred the more spread-out part of town, and embraced every aspect of it. Jules used to love the barbecues he would hold for friends and family on the farm during the summer. She loved seeing the rows of corn and his hayfields, not to mention the goats and one cow. Rob was a born farmer, and now that he lived on his own small farm and was able to make a living as a fireman one day out of every three, it was no surprise to anyone that he chose this path.

Jules drove out to Rob’s farm, trying to remember if this was a B shift day or a C shift day. Rob had been C shift for about a year now, and since then Jules always seemed to know what day it was on the county firemen’s schedule. Rob was as much a born farmer as he was a fireman. He had the build of one, kinda tall and broad, with a good head on his shoulders. He did well enough at school to leave town for college, but he never did enjoy that world as much as his own back in Horizon, so he came back and became a fireman pretty quick. And he fit right in with those guys, many of them locals around town. Many of them were the same firemen that had carried him home after he woke up drunk in his truck back in high school, or who helped him get that motorcycle out of the lake so he wouldn’t have to call his Dad and explain what happened. And they were the same firemen who were there when the chaplain told him about his Dad’s wreck. It was the place where he belonged, and it was the place where Jules wanted to belong with him.

As she pulled up to the front of his house, a small one level with a farmer’s bell out front that used to belong to Mr. Evans, his father, Jules ran through the gameplan in her mind. She was to go in, tell him it was over…no, it would never happen again, because for it to be over meant that there was something going much longer than a few hours, and that wasn’t the case, so it would never happen again, then she would leave and go home and make her husband a big dinner, explain everything, and beg him for forgiveness. That was the plan.

Jules stepped out of her car and was immediately assaulted by the summer sun, high up in the sky now, signaling the hottest days of the year and the hottest part of the day. By the time she reached the front door and rang on the doorbell, she was already sweating a little around her sunglasses. She knew how Rob hated those gaudy sunglasses that covered most of her face, so she wore them intentionally to ward him off, hoping to avoid his unimaginable charms.

“Hey, baby, come on in, it’s burning up out here. If I’d known you were coming I might’ve cleaned up a little better.” Rob leaned in for a kiss from the married woman, but she pushed him back and just walked right on in, talking as fast as she could.

“Look, Robert, we can’t do this ever again. It’s over.” Crap, she said it. “It’s over between us, and this can’t happen. I love my husband very much, and I can’t let you do this to him. He’s a good man, and he doesn’t deserve this.”

“That’s not what you were telling me yesterday.”

It’s true. Before this morning’s show of affection from Will, poor Jules had spouted all of her deepest longings to the old friend over coffee the night before. They met up at a spot in town for drinks so she could vent, and they ended up behind the grocery store after the rain started to come down.

“I was wrong. He’s not a perfect man, but he is a good man, and I won’t have it anymore. You’ve always given me these, these sideways looks and winks, and I can’t resist you.” She didn’t mean to say that. “I can’t stop you, and I have to. You can’t let me do this to Will. I love him.”

“Are you trying to convince me or you of that fact?”

After a moment’s pause, “Stop it, Rob! If you’re really my friend, you’ll leave this alone!” It almost scared him a little to see her all fired up, as Jules was usually a more reserved woman, but he knew first hand the passion that she could unleash when she so desired. “Just stop. It’s done.”

“Do you remember that night a few years back when you were stuck out in the rain behind the grocery store? And I promised to give you a ride home, but you were all soaking wet and had to dry off in the back room? Do you remember that?” She did. “I think about that all the time. And I think you do, too. I wonder, what would’ve happened to us if we would’ve gotten together that night?”

Sheepishly, “I don’t think about it, and I don’t know.”

“I think you do, baby. I think you do.” He moved in ever closer, and whispered in her ears when he was finally close enough to do so. “I would do anything to keep you with me. I can’t let you go, Jules. I just can’t. It took me so many years to get you here, I can’t let you leave me.”

Deep down, Jules admitted the need she had felt for Rob, and the need she knew now would only be filled by what he could give her, but it was still wrong. What she wanted was wrong, but she wanted it nonetheless. “How do we do this, Robby? How do we do this? I have to be in your arms, but I can’t.” Jules finally crying, admitted to Rob what he already knew.

And in his own way, in his own soft and soothing way, he whispered back to her, “Sssh, sssh. It’s okay. The first time, the first time is passion. The second time is compliance.” She looked up with a strange sorrow in her eyes, analyzing his words, making sure she understood what he meant. Then she kissed him.

A little while later, she wasn’t sure how much later, Jules woke up to Rob standing on one leg fiddling with his shoe. The late afternoon sun played with her hair and danced in her eyes, as she lay on Rob’s bed facing the window. After a soft giggle and a flip of her hair, Jules asked, “Where do you think you’re going, Robert Evans?” Frightened at her being awake, the poor lecher lost his balance and fell. “Oh, baby, I’m sorry, are you okay? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” the fireman groaned out as he pulled himself up off the floor.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Robby. What time is it? Oh wow, I need to be going. I guess I fell asleep. See, this is how it’s supposed to work. You don’t leave me alone, it’s your house. I’m the one who leaves. I’ve gotta go home and get dinner ready Will.” And then she noticed the odd silence in the room, as Rob looked down at her and didn’t speak for a minute. “What’s wrong?” And still he wouldn’t speak. “Rob, what’s wrong?”

“You need to get dressed.”

“Rob. What is going on.”

He bit his lip, and then Rob told her the news. “Baby,” he said, taking her hand, “I just got a call from the station. They found him laying on the floor.”

“Be honest with me, Rob. What are you saying? Who’d they find? It’s not Will, it’s not Will.” She denied it, still not having heard the news in full yet.

“I’m sorry, baby, it is, it is.” He had to fight her to keep from hitting him. “You need to get dressed now, we have to go.”

“No! No! It’s not, it’s not!”

“I’m sorry, baby, but they found him beaten to death on the floor. It’s your husband. Will’s dead.”



Next Week: Episode 3, Friday at 4pm (or so)


AUTHOR'S NOTE: I want to know what y'all think. Who's guilty? Who's responsible? Who is victim and who is villain? Feel free to leave comments on here, Facebook, or Twitter. And if you don't already follow me on Twitter, it's @42Cobras. Until next week, and thanks for reading!