MARS THE GENTLE KILLER (Part Three)

SUSAN (continued)

Thru her tears, she tried to persuade him that he was wrong and that their future together would have to be based on Love and Kindness, and not on Acts of Cruelty!

"Teddy, dear one, it is wrong to kill. Some people have nothing else but their life. You can't take that away from them."

He made no reply.

"We can't build our lives together on cruelty. We can't find happiness by making other people suffer. Ted?" She reached over to tenderly to touch his arm. "Can't you see it's wrong, that you are wrong to kill?"

"No."

"How can you say that? How can you do things like ? Don't you feel any guilt for killing?"

He felt no remorse.

The only thing he felt right now was indifference as he ignored her and picked at a bit of cracked paint on the wall.

"Teddy sweetheart, you're not supposed to do things like that. You're supposed to help people and be kind. Even to those you don't care about. To everyone. You're even supposed to "Love Thy Enemy."

She said, quoting the Bible for added emphasis.

"Kill Thy Enemy would be better." He mumbled under his breath. "More practical."

"What?"

"Nothing."

Then sensing that she was fighting a losing battle and that it was hopeless to try and change him ... she said, ever so softly, "I can't continue to live like this. It's wrong and I just won't do it." 57

Grasping the significance of her words, he quickly turned and looked at her to see if there was any sign of weakness or a lack of resolve. There wasn't.

He had never seen this part of her before. She was so independent and so far removed from him and his way of thinking. Rising up abruptly, she got up and went into the living room. Leaving him alone, to sit and brood with his thoughts.

"Damn it! Why must it always be like this? Why must everything be so messed up? Damn it all!"

The next morning, after spending the night alone, each one in a separate room and each one trapped, as if held captive by their own unyielding Beliefs, he slipped his revolver into a holster on his belt then went into the other room to confront her.

She was sitting on the window ledge, looking out the window. Calm and reflective, a study of quiet repose.

"Come on!" He said in a harsh tone of voice.

"Come on, we're going to take a little trip to the country."

She didn't look around when he came in and now that he had spoken, she made no response. Instead she just kept sitting there, calmly looking out the window.

"Come on, God Damn It! You're coming with me!"

She swung around and looked at him with a stare as hard as cold steel. Looking directly in his eyes all the while, she got up and walked over to stand directly in front of him and confront him face to face. As she stood there staring unflinchingly in his eyes, he felt his emotions swirl and his resolve begin to crumble before the impact of her determination. Then, when it felt like his spirit would break, that he would give in and yield to her demands, she turned and walked away and boldly led him to the car.

As they got in the car and drove out thru the busy city traffic, she felt a great sense of relief and even a strange sense of tranquillity flood thru her as she thought about her Fate.

There was nothing he could do to harm her; no pain, no insult great enough to impinge upon her soul. Broken and demeaned by a countless number of humiliations, all of her hopes for happiness and personal worth had been smashed to a million pieces long ago, repeatedly crushed by events beyond her control, again and again attacked till now, when there was nothing left to destroy ... only the shambles of a ruined life. Let him have his way with her, physically abuse her, demean her, what did it matter?

She was past caring. 59

After leaving the clogged city traffic behind he continued driving on thru the suburbs till they came to a secluded Forest Preserve known as the Skokie Lagoons. After reaching the Lagoons and finding a tree shrouded place to park the car, he took Susan to a remote spot deep within the Park where they could be alone and he could do what had to be done.

When he had found a suitable place, hidden deep within the trees and far off the beaten path, he took her by the arm and stopped her. She looked around to see what he wanted then, realizing that this was the spot he had been looking for, she dropped to her knees and brought her hands up to Pray. Looking down at her, he fought to hold back the tears as he took out the Ruger and gently placed the tip of its barrel against her forehead. He cocked the pistol; the mechanical clicking of the guns' workings sounding so hard, so indifferent, as the hammer moved back in preparation for striking the fatal blow; then he looked around to see if anyone was coming.

The trees, like ragged spikes stuck in the Earths' breast, stood in natural disarray all around them. While the Forest, naked in a dull Autumn grayness, seemed to be totally empty of life and breathlessly quiet, as if it were it waiting for the noise of his gun to break the silence. Looking down at her face, on the Beauty of her Serenity, he realized she was all he'd ever wanted in life, everything that mattered to him.

His Reason For Being.

And now she must be destroyed --

He closed his eyes as his finger began to squeeze the trigger. Like an insult to the woodlands, the pistol spit out its fateful cry.

"CRACK!"

Oh how loud was the gun and how quiet the Forest!

How brutal the bullet and how precious his dear Susan!

And how empty his life would be -- without her!

In the lingering wash of sound that followed the gun shot, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. Standing there with his head bowed low and eyes closed, his arms were hanging limp at his sides, as the pistol, which had fired harmlessly into the dirt, dropped from his hand. 61

Releasing the killing implement, releasing the awful obligation he had made -- release! Falling to his knees, overwhelmed by emotion, he began crying with deep gasping sighs.

At first she didn't understand what was going on but then, in an instant, she knew that there was nothing to explain and no words that had to be spoken. For they were both the same in oh so many ways and they were both nothing more than the helpless Victims of Life's Struggles.

Perhaps others would blame them for the turmoil they felt in their souls. Perhaps others, who were more fortunate in their positions, and more sheltered in their perceptions, could wear the proud mantle of Free Will and Self Determination.

They could not.

Like an animal with its leg caught in a trap, they were trying to escape from the jaws conflicting emotions that held them in its grasp. And like the captive animal, the more they struggled to be free, the more they succeeded, only, in tearing at their own flesh. They could never be free from the desperation that held them in its grip, they could only accept it as their Fate. Life's problems were all too strong for them to overcome with their feeble attempts at self assertion and they were both too weak to resist.

Defeated and crushed in spirit, they were doomed to be nothing more than failures in their lives and the best they could do was accept it; to accept the slow grinding down destruction of their most cherished hopes and dreams, and try to make the best of their unpleasant situation.

Picking up the Ruger, she returned it to its place on his belt. Then, helping him to stand and lending him her support; they slowly made their way thru the trees to return to the car.

She then drove back to Chicago.

He was able to recuperate as she drove and by the time they returned home, he was able to walk by himself.

Getting out of the car and walking ahead of her, he reached the apartments door first and after pausing there for a few moments -- he let out a piercing cry. She ran up to see what had happened. Saying nothing to her, he handed her a piece of paper he had crumbled up in his fist. She unfolded it to see what it was about and discovered it was a note from Mister X informing Ted that there was some more "work" that had to be done.

"What does this mean?" She demanded.

He didn't answer, he only stood there looking away from her.

"Tell me! What does it mean?'

"I don't think you want to know."

"I want to know! What does it mean?"

He put his hand up and rubbed his forehead as he considered what to say. He knew she wouldn't like the truth, her reaction to his killing of the kitten had told him that. But ... she did say she loved him and that they would never part, no matter what. Maybe she could accept the violent part of his personality as she had already accepted and yes, even loved, the compassionate side of him. Maybe she was strong enough to accept the truth. Maybe, just maybe.

"Alright. Let's go inside, we need to have a talk."

After going into the living room, he gestured for her to sit at one end of the couch while he sat down at the other end. He began, "I work for Frank. You know him. You've met him and his wife -- they're both good people! We've even been to their house for Dinner. Remember how nice it was ... how pleasant everything was. Remember?"

She nodded her head "Yes."

"Well he's the man who is responsible for the Mafias' Gaming Operations here in Chicago.

Whenever there is a "Problem," whenever there is someone who is greatly in debt to the Organization and who is also uncooperative ... then I, or someone else like me, and there are several others who also work for Frank, then I take care of that Problem for him."

He paused to see if she wanted him to go on. She looked at him with an anxious expression on her face, obviously waiting for him to continue. She was afraid of what he might say but if her fears were justified, then she had to know the truth.

Seeing that she was worried and sensing that she wanted it put plain and simple, he said. "When it is necessary, I act as a Hit Man for the Mafia. I kill. I kill people. That's what I do. That's how I make my money." She was shaking her head "No" as if by denying it she could make it be otherwise. "You can't. You -- can't! You are so kind, so considerate. You couldn't!" She said simply because she didn't want to believe it.

But then she remembered his killing of the Kitten, his War Pictures, his ever present Handguns, the incident with the Homeless Man, and yes, also ... this other thing that had just happened with her; and she began to accept the fact that there was a part of him, a part deep down inside, that was, impersonal, harsh, and totally without feeling.

"Yes," she thought to herself as she felt their private little world of shared tenderness begin to crumble. "Yes, I think you are capable of that. I do believe you are a Paid Killer."

Seeing the hurt on her face, he wanted to try and comfort her and to explain why he did it. How he could kill people so easily and without remorse but before he could even begin to speak, she surprised him by asking, "Don't you believe in God?"

"Yes I do. But not in a personal, Human type of God."

"Well don't you have any sense of Right and Wrong? Don't you think it's wrong to kill someone?"

"I have my Moral Values. I wouldn't inflict needless pain on anyone nor on any living creature for that matter. But I'm aware of the fact that morals are relative in value and that what is generally considered to be "right and wrong" is subject to change.

Morality is a Matter of Circumstance.

As to whether it is wrong to kill someone ... no, I don't think so. Not some people anyway. Oh I know that life can be fun, an exciting adventure where each moment is to be cherished for all it's worth. But it can also be a great burden, a long ordeal of Slavery to Pain or to some Strange and Perverted Motivation. While, on the other hand, Death is always the same. 66

Death is Freedom.

Freedom from the Cares of Life.

When a person is dead -- that's it! It's over.

They couldn't care less about all the things that are so important to the Living. The Dead are totally Indifferent. The intelligence that once dwelled within them is gone and they have returned to a senseless state of Inert Matter. Death is always Freedom to those who die."

'Well, what about a persons soul? Don't you think your soul will suffer in the next world for what you've done?"

"No.

There is no next world.

No such thing as Heaven or Hell.

No Life after Death. No Reincarnation.

Such ideas are only concepts that were thought up by people who are afraid to die and who seek to avoid the finality of the grave by pretending that they will, in one way or another, continue on after they are dead. I have no need for a life after death nor for a next world, such things do not exist for me."

"I'm sorry but I don't agree with you."

"I know sweetheart but I'm just trying to be honest. Trying to see things as they really are and then acting accordingly. That's all I'm trying to do -- just trying to be honest."

"Well you can call it being "honest" if you want but other people will call it -- Cruel! And it's not acceptable. You just can't do it anymore. It will have to stop. Now! Immediately! This minute! Do you understand?"

He meekly nodded his head "Yes."

"And when you go in to see Frank tomorrow morning, you will have to tell him that you quit. That you can't work for him any more and that you never -- never kill again.

Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Will you tell him that you quit?"

"Yes, I will."

"You promise?"

"Yes, I promise."

As if it were all that simple --

He was hurting and his mind was reeling due to the stress he was living under but still ... what she said didn't make any sense to him. He wanted to believe it was as easy as she said, that he had only wanted to quit and then, it would be over. That he could simply walk away from it all, (away from everything he knew about Frank, and the Brotherhood,

and also, from everything he, himself, had done in the Past), just walk away -- if he wanted to. He wanted to believe in her dream and share with her in the peaceful world she did envision but in the back of his mind there was the fear that it would never be. There were too many complications ... 68

However for her sake, the next day when he went in to see his "Boss" he told him about the problems he and Susan were having and begged to be relieved of his duties. Unfortunately, Frank wasn't able to grant his wish. Under the guiding control of the Ruling Board, it wasn't his Will but rather their Will that would determine his actions.

He was only following Orders.

"I couldn't get you out of this Mission no matter what I did. The Ruling Board has asked specifically for you and you'll have to go or else we'll both be in big trouble. They do have their reasons ... "

He paused for a moment as he thought about "Why" they might want Ted.

"I suppose they want you because you're unknown to the Law Enforcement Agencies you might encounter, because you can speak Spanish, and because you have proven yourself to be good with a gun. I guess that's why they want you? ... In any event, it's you who has to go."

He shook his head "No" as he continued. "And we can't cancel this Mission either. This isn't just another routine assignment ... you see, the Federal Government and the C.I.A. are involved. If people like us, if the Brotherhood, is to continue to operate on a large scale basis here in the U.S. then we must have the tacit approval, for our operations, by the Federal Government. 69

We earn that approval by supplying them with Soldiers for ... uh ... let's say delicate Missions here in America and in neighboring countries.

Now the C.I.A. has a secret mission to perform in Cuba and they have asked for our help. In this mission you'll be striking a blow against Communism, you'll be doing your Patriotic Duty to help protect this great country of ours while you'll also get in some good marks with the Ruling Board. So you can see, for many reasons, you'll have to go. It's not up to us!" He spread his hands out wide before himself. "It's up to them. And they have spoken. It's final!"

He began to point his finger at Ted as he put a stern expression on his face. "You have got to go. You'll only be gone for about a month or so then you'll be able to come back home and have some more time off. Now four weeks of your time isn't too much to ask. You can endure it and if the love you and Susan have for each other is strong, and I think that it is, then it will endure this short separation. So there's no reason why you can't go ...

He concluded the discussion by stating. "You've got to be in Miami by tomorrow night, here is your Plane Ticket, so you had better take care of your personal business before that and then -- get your butt down there and get to work!"

Ted was a dutiful Soldier and he would obey Orders. He was surprised to learn of the Federal Governments collusion with the Mafia but he accepted that illegal relationship at face value as he took careful note of the details of this assignment, and of everything that was expected of him.

Then, after being briefed by Mister X, he left the downtown Office and headed back to his apartment to tell Susan the bad news.

"She will understand." He thought as he drove back to the apartment. "I'll make her see that it wasn't up to me and that I didn't want to go. She'll be able to see that. She will understand -- she just has to!"

He parked the car in its usual parking place on the street, then walked slowly back towards the apartment. While Susan, who had been sitting on the Fire Escape, watching and waiting for his return, came running down to greet him. She came running down the steps with a questioning look in her eyes however just one glimpse at his guilt-ridden face told her that he'd be leaving soon and that he would go out to kill again.

Turning away from him in a dejected mood, she went back into the apartment to sit and brood, on the couch.

He followed her in and came over to sit close beside her. "I'm sorry dear, I tried to get out of it, I really did. But Frank, he had no choice....it wasn't up to him or to me! I've got to go, to do this, at least one more time."

"You don't love me."

"You know that's not true. I love you very much and I will always love you. But I have got to do this, please, it's what I do to earn ah living. It's what I used to do anyway. After this assignment's over, I promise I'll give it up and find another way of earning some money for us."

"You could quit right now and run away with me."

"But how would we live? We have to have money."

"We could both get factory jobs and make enough to get by."

"No I can't do that and you can't expect me to go back to that either. We're both getting older now and we'd have to spend the rest of our lives locked up in some miserable factory just to earn enough cash to live on."

With a worried expression on her face, she reached over and tenderly touched his hand.

"Honey please ... let's just run away. We can make it on our own, I know we can. The factories aren't that bad. We could make out O.K. if we both worked at it, I know we can. Please Teddy, please."

He hung his head down and his body showed the heavy weariness his soul had felt while living as a factory worker.

"I hated my factory job. The wages were so meager ... it was all so pointless. One of my greatest accomplishments at that time was to work Overtime. But if I did work Overtime then I'd have even less time to enjoy life and to do the things I really wanted to do; such as painting, reading, writing or even exercise. Oh I know I'm not important and that the world doesn't care if I live or die. I know that and I can accept it. But what I can't accept is to waste my life away in some meaningless job. Hell, why should I? ? Why should I submit to the problems of a low paying job where the hours are long and the accomplishments small? For what? ... No, I can't return to the factories. Not so long as there is something else open to me. I really need to continue working for Frank. That's about all I know how to do." 73

"If you don't want to work in the factories then maybe there is something else you could do? Construction work, or maybe Landscaping? Or some other kind of Manual Labor?"

"No, I don't have any Skills." He paused and thought for a moment before adding. "Working for Frank is about the only thing I can do right now, if I'm going to be successful. That's it. Please don't take that away from me. Not yet anyway. In time I will find something else to do but for now, at least, I have to continue working for "The Man."

She had watched him with an unguarded expression on her face while he talked but now that he was finished and had begged her permission to continue on with his acts of cruelty and violence, she turned away and started to cry.

He thought her tears were being shed in sympathy for him and his refusal to return to the drudgery of the factories and so he huddled close and tried to comfort her. But in fact, her tears bore a deeper significance and had he known the resignation those tears bespoke, then he too would have cried.

to be continued

MARS THE GENTLE KILLER (Part Three)

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