Cross the Bridge

I guess the blame could begin with Margaret.  After all, she started it.  She gave birth to Kenneth.  Begot ~ as the Bible says. Who WAS Margaret Weber? A selfish, needy nobody who had delusions of grandeur. She craved attention and did anything to get it.  She had a baby too young, out of wedlock.  She owned a bar and dated LOTS of customers - only the ones who had money or SAID they did.  She told raunchy jokes, drank too much, and had QUITE a temper when she didn't get what she wanted.  Most people knew and understood that if you crossed Margaret's path, there was a very heavy toll. she might have been pretty.. at one time or at any time had she not been so hard, so devious and so mean.  Her hair was jet black and had once been long and silky.  Now it was short and curly, wiry by many accounts and her eyes that could have been called jewel blue were simply icy.  Her thick strong frame had been replaced cruelly by sagging boobs and arthritic joints.  She was not happy in any of this and sought to punish those responsible... or at least near by.

 But Kenneth was the light of her life when he was young.  She paraded him about town, bragged about his looks, his intelligence (both of which were mediocre at best) and his prospects.  He would be rich and famous and take care of her like a queen, she boasted.  Kenneth did the latter.  She hen pecked and brow beat that boy until there was nothing left but a wisp of a man.  She liked that just fine.  She had a servant and could live her "high life". Kenneth was a kind, soft boy.  He tried to please everyone; all the time.  He worked hard and although he was no rocket scientist, he was a mighty fine woodworker, and handy man; the best in town and we all went straight to him from small engine repair to building a fancy pergola out back of our nicer homes. Unlike his mama, he was well thought of in town.  He was strong and gentle. He was tall and lean with a shock of curly dark hair like his mother but with eyes as deep as the night is long.  

That must have been what drew Samantha to him.  She was the daughter of Reverend Pierce.  She too was kinds and gentle, reliable and smart.  Boy, was she a pretty picture too. She was going to school for nursing.  She wanted to help people.  She had the personality for it.  The two of them were a perfect couple.  The kind that could live a happy wonderful life together with kids and dogs and love always.

Had it not been for Margaret.

Good LAWD~ that woman snapped at Samantha and berated her a hundred time worse than she EVER did her little Kenny.  In Margaret's eyes, no one and I mean NO ONE was good enough for her boy.  Samantha endured though and they just kept dating.  They saw each other on the sly ~ sneakin off to the carnival or the picnic at church.  Sometimes Kenneth would trick Margaret in to going somewhere and Samantha would "show up" or "Just happen to be there" and Margaret, mad that she'd been duped or shown up would just terrorize the two of them; always causing a scene.  But young love can't be stopped.  They eloped.  Margaret was furious.  She didn't speak to Kenneth for two months but still expected the spa-Royal treatment from the largest back bedroom she laid claim to and from where she screamed orders in the trailer the newlyweds rented. Samantha tried her best too since they were living under the same roof.

From the beginning, Margaret misunderstood the arrangement.  Instead of being a guest, she thought she ruled the roost; dictating meals, chores, the whole kit and caboodle.  Kenneth just kept working and Samantha had her schooling.  They both tried to stay away from the house and Margaret.  Kenneth and Samantha would meet in town for lunch or an early supper; leaving Margaret to fend for herself with leftovers to heat up. THAT didn't go on well with Mother and by the time they drug themselves home, tired and frustrated, to hear Margaret's screeching was enough to begin to drive quite a  wedge in to the perfect young love. Samantha wanted her out; gone. Kenneth couldn't toss his mother out into the street. 

And then there was Margaret: envious of Kenneth's popularity of the "proper kind" no matter how she had tried to manipulate and ruin him;  jealous of Samantha's career opportunities and drive, let alone her youth and beauty.  She was glad they were fighting, ecstatic that it was about her.  When she was out with friends, she laughed heartily about the dissolution of their fiery tale.  She hated their kindness and their life.  The life sh had always wanted; bragged about, but never chased.  No dreams had ever come true for Margaret and she CERTAINLY didn't want them coming true for those two "snot nosed fools" who didn't know what hard work even was.

So Kenneth kept running away, Samantha listened and boiled inside and Margaret just kept spouting off.  The hate began to simmer and bubble like a well nurtured stew.

Samantha didn't believe she was collecting those samples to poison her mother in law.  Not really.  Not until that wonderful Sunday dinner.  They were going to "have at it."; going to tell Margaret that she had to go. They had even gone so far as to find another trailer at the other end of the park (too far for the cripple old bat to walk, but a safe distance if she really DID need help). Kenneth had finally seen the light ~ well six weeks of sexual probation hadn't hurt the decision making either.  And WHAT a celebration they had in Margaret's bed that afternoon while she was having Ruth take her to lunch and get her hair done! but deep down, she knew the man she had married was weak.  He could never say no to Margaret.  Samantha just had to be sure that the old witch was gone. One way or another.  She patted the powder papers in her pocket and began to cook the individual pot pies. It would be the last time Margaret would ever have to complain about her cooking, her poor house cleaning, her awful career choice, anything. Anything at all.
"DELISH! Come n git it" she thought cheerfully.  Sure there were pangs of guilt but she reasoned logically enough that all mad dogs needed to be put down. She was humming in the kitchen when Margaret began to bark

"SHUT UP out there! You sing like a rusted chainsaw!  Good GOD. Let me have some peace and quiet girl!"

"Sorry Mother Margaret. I was just making Sunday supper.  Won't you come and make some of that delicious (piss water) lemonade as a treat for us?" Samantha tried to hide the bitter laugh that gurgled in her throat. To her surprise, Margaret was quickly down the hall and pulling out the pitcher for the lemonade.

"Oh! Mother! You startled me."

"Get out of my way, child. I'm making lemonade.  SOMEthing should be good enough to swallow during this shamble meal." The old woman turned up her nose and winced.  "Now get me the sugar"

"Of course." Samantha said tightly and turned away, never seeing the added "sweetener" that would kill Samantha in just minutes. "Pucker up buttercup" Margaret whispered as she stirred. If Kenneth was too stupid and weak to leave this wretched girl, it was up to her to help her little boy see the light.

Dinner was tersely made and they sat with it plated up waiting.  And waiting.  They toyed with their meals and stirred their drinks, glaring at each other across the little Formica table.

"Well, we should eat while it's hot." Samantha said quietly, handing Margaret her plate.

"You bet." and she poured Samantha's cup first. "Drink up. I put a little extra kick in it."

"Lovely." Samantha said with a small grin.

"Shame Kenneth is late.. again."

Samantha sighed.  "He works so hard."

"You drive him away.  He'd love to be her more if you weren't..."

"Let's just enjoy our dinner... shall we? Until he DOES get home?" teeth were bared; weak attempts at smiles.

No one saw dessert.  Almost a week went by before the combination of summer heat and decaying flesh brought the police out to search the little trailer.  The two women slumped in their chairs, their dead mouths hanging open spilling maggots onto what looked to be a delicious meal.  The two enemies appeared to be sharing quite a joke. Kenneth was sought in question to the poisonings (two separate substances had been used... so strange they thought)  However, this prime suspect was found inside his tiny workshop/garage in his car; a hose leading from tailpipe to its window.  The police scratched their heads. 

The case is still open but no one really wants to cross that bridge...