My Last Twenty-Four Hours of Freedom or Something Else?

Prompt: Write a story about someone whose time is running out.

My Last Twenty-Four Hours of Freedom or Something Else?

“You are a worm, a wretched maggot!” These are my words I mouthed quietly to myself twenty fours hour before my wedding day to the supposed love of my life. I was referring to my character. I really had misjudged my betrothed. I was a royal mess. Having a bachelor’s party 48 hours earlier watered my discontent about my nuptial intentions. I deliberately imbibed as many pints as I could without retching. I did not anticipate the reality of indecisiveness that would suddenly sprout into a full fledge garden of malcontent. My inner lament became stronger when my bachelor friends regurgitated old memories of lewdness and crude fun I had in my former relationships. My head spun hearing about those supposed unrestricted, unattached days of merriment and uncommitted pleasure. I had such freedom. It seemed like it was just months ago. In truth, it actually was a fortnight before “she”, (my fiancé, Gertie) announced to me that she was with child.

Gertie and I held nothing back. We were awestruck lovers embarking on a journey of erotic, sensual behavior. Caution had been thrown out the window and was long gone before we noticed. When she finally broke the news, the word “protection” finally registered on my brain.

I sardonically smiled at her saying, “Nothing like starting a brood before the real rat race begins. Are you sure the rabbit died on this one, my love? Perhaps the test kit was from a bad lot?” And the killer comment was, “Are you sure it is mine?”

Gertie was mortified at what I had said. Her tears flowed like the drainage pipes into the Thames River. “How could you even say that! You’re a beast of epic proportion! I need to know immediately if you truly love me, NOW!”

Ashamedly I said, “Of course, Gertie, I love you with my whole heart! I think we can come to a resolution on this problem. I will be with you all the way, darling.”

“Don’t you “darling me” you cad! You insensitive, an uncaring brute! A problem? This is our child we are talking about. There is only one way to remedy this. I am going to have our baby. I’ll have it with or without you!”

I needed to come up with a quick fix response. I got down on one knee holding her hand (we were at the London Bridge at the time) and I said, “Gertie, you are the love of my life. Please marry me. I have your ring on mail order. Let’s tie the knot in a couple of days.”

I wasn’t sure if she was gleeful or if the hormones had kicked in, but she laughed hysterically and then cried some more. Gertie then calmed down saying, “Yes! Yes! I have to find a wedding dress and call Trudy to be my maid of honor.

I need to find someone to officiate at our wedding. Oh, and I must tell father of this amazing news!”

I leaned over the railing on the bridge. I felt rumblings in my belly. I wasn’t much of a theological bloke, so I didn’t care if a Tibetan sherpa married us. Instead, I said under my breath, “Oh, her father. I wish I had thought about the repercussions of knocking-up my boss’s daughter. It could be good, or it could be really bad.”

My obvious guess is bad because he will be watching me like a hound. Up until this point he did not know Gertie and I were even a “thing” as a couple. I had been working for the ole sod for about three years now. I was a business magnet for his firm as a junior litigator, but any sense of impropriety would catapult my career into the toilet. I really hoped to get out from under his dictatorial rule and venture out to bigger fish like Freshfields, Ashurst or Linklaters, LLP. Yet, the tide changed with Gertie’s announcement. I would be land locked to his small firm and to his daughter with a wee one on the way.

Gretie then blurted out, “I want to keep the wedding small. I know father will let us have the actual wedding at the Shangri-La at The Shard. He is under my spell, and he will do whatever his baby girl desires,” she said cackling like a witch.

“The hotel can accommodate a small gathering of friends. We can dine and party the whole night away, my love. The views of London are breathtaking! It will be so prestigious, you working for my father and all. You will be mine forever! “Gertie again cackled like a witch and rubbed her hands as though she was possessed by a sinister spirit.

I shivered when she had said that. Nervously I said, “Ok Gertie. But let your father know of our intentions.” I thought it would be safer if she was my buffer to the old man. With this anxiety of being married and being a father, I did not need the stress of a dictator riding my arse. There was more to it than that, however. Unbeknown to Gertie, I discovered that her father was actually in cahoots with the London mobs.

So that was almost a fortnight ago. Now the time crept down to forty-eight hours before the fateful nuptial hook-up. Surprisingly, her father took the news quite well. Of course, she left out the fact that she was pregnant. Her reasoning was she would give him the news six months after wedding. The following day after Gertie’s announcement, he took me aside and whispered,

“Congratulations, my boy. You will love, cherish and care for Gertie until the day you die. And if you fail on that mission, you will become the main ingredient in a meat pie or perhaps earn yourself a trip to Scotland as haggis.” He fiendishly chuckled.

My eyes opened widely and my voice shook as I said, “Without a doubt, sir, I will abide by your wishes and honor Gertie all the days of my life.” His London office I suspected had covert connections with the crime families of the Brindles and Walkers. I came across some business documents and bank deposits confirming my suspicions. It did not take a genius to realize how he was going to pay for the wedding, if at all.

I was in a quandary. Getting married to Gertie would be a life in bondage to her pompous, selfish and wicked disposition. Add that to a newborn who would end up as a doting kid with me having to cater to its every need. But a bigger threat that draped over my head was the intimidating whispers of her father. He would follow me to the ends of the earth if I grieved Gertie in any matter of the heart. I can live, but I’d live in a dead marriage. I could run from the executioners, but I’d be on the run for the rest of my life.

I was beside myself. My options were death on both fronts. One was physical, the other emotional, parasitic and demonic.Something I had never done in my life; I got down on my knees to pray right then and there alone in my hotel room.There was an open King James bible on the desk. I prayed. I prayed some more. “Forgive me for my indiscretions, for my failures at not making the honorable choices. I read the scripture that was open upon the desk.

“I cried unto God with my voice, even unto God with my voice; and he gave ear unto me.

In the day of my trouble, I sought the Lord: my sore ran in the night and ceased not: my soul refused to be comforted. I remembered God, and was troubled: I complained, and my spirit was overwhelmed.” (1)

And looking further I read:

O lord God of my salvation, I have cried day and night before thee:

Let my prayer come before thee: incline thine ear unto my cry;

For my soul is full of troubles: and my life draweth nigh unto the grave.

I am counted with them that go down into the pit: I am as a man that hath no strength:

Free among the dead, like the slain that lie in the grave, whom thou rememberest no more: and they are cut off from thy hand. Thou hast laid me in the lowest pit, in darkness, in the deeps. Lord, why castest thou off my soul? Why hidest Thou thy face from me? (2)

And then I found an answer to my prayers in Psalm 15:

Lord, who shall abide in Thy tabernacle? Who shall dwell in Thy holy hill? He that walketh uprightly, and worketh righteousness, and speaketh the truth in his heart. He that backbiteth not with his tongue, nor doeth evil to his neighbour, nor taketh up a reproach against his neighbour. In whose eyes a vile person is contemned; but he honoureth them that fear the Lord. He that sweareth to his own hurt, and changeth not. He that putteth not out his money to usury, nor taketh reward against the innocent. He that doeth these things shall never be moved. (3)

I had made my peace with God. Unquestionably the truth would set me free. After I poured my heart to the Lord, I did the only logical thing I could do. The clock was ticking down now with eight hours before the wedding. I needed to tell the truth. I went to the Metropolitan Police (The Met) and to Interpol to reveal my boss’s mob connections. In order to corroborate my allegations, the constabulary demanded I wear a concealed eavesdropping wire when I spoke to Gertie’s father before the wedding.

I returned to the hotel to tell Gertie’s father the truth. He was dressing in his room when I unexpectedly engaged him. I did not mince words with him. “I do not want to marry your daughter. I am not in love with her. Did she tell you she is pregnant? She tells me that I am the father of her child, but I don’t believe it.”

His face reflected intense rage. “If you don’t marry her and be a father to her unborn child, I will have my connections kill you. Your time is running out. Marry her or you will die.”

Emboldened I said, “You will not find me, especially after I leave the UK. I know of your London mob connections.”

He threatened me further. “You are an idiot. Although my firm is small here, my tentacles reach far and wide. I have extensive worldwide operations that extort and eliminate annoying blokes like yourself. You will not survive long if you leave this hotel without my Gertie. Marry my daughter. Make her and my grandchild happy or you are a dead man. Now go get dressed for your wedding.”

Instead of returning to my room to get dressed, I went to Gertie’s room. Her maid of honor, Trudy, had just left to check on preparations. I stormed in. With a frightened and annoyed look, she exclaimed,

“What are you doing in my room? You are not supposed to see me for three more hours! Please leave!”

“Not until I say this. Gertie, the truth is I will not and cannot marry you! I do not love you nor will I ever be able to love you. I still do not believe you are carrying my child. But if you are I will accept full responsibility for childcare. Your father gave me an ultimatum. He said I had no choice. Either I marry you or he will have me assassinated. Your father is in cahoots with the London mob!”.

A powder keg of rage was unleashed by Gertie. “Get out! You are a liar! How dare you disrespect my father! You will marry me! You made a promise to me. Out of my way! I need to see my father right away about your lies.He would never do anything of the sort.I need to hear the truth from him.”

Like a bolt of lightning, Gertie pushed her way past me and out of the room. I froze in disbelief. Then I scrambled to follow her as she made her way to staircase exit door. It was mere seconds when I heard a yelp followed by a series of thudding noises. When I caught up to the exit door, Gertie had fallen down the flight of stairs tripping on her dress. I saw her sprawled out on the landing in a pool of blood.

I raced down the stairs. I did not see her breathing and I felt no pulse. The back of her head was saturated in blood. I yelled for help. Several people heard the commotion including Gertie’s father gathering at the exit door. I raced further down the stairs exiting outside of the hotel. Meanwhile the police had been monitoring the wire throughout the ordeal. There was a flurry of activity as the police stormed inside.

As I stood outside the Shanghai- La hotel, I heard bang, bang, bang. A metallic smell filled my nostrils. An eerie feeling of warmth and then coldness enveloped me.

” And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” (4)

-END-

KJV= King James Version

Psalm 77: 1-3. KJV

Psalm 88: 1-6, 14-16 KJV

Psalm 15, KJV

John 8:32, KJV

Author: Peter Gautchier

Acknowledgment: Reedsyprompts.com