The Death Drug: The Cull Stories, #6

The Death Drug

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Happy birthday to me. My eightieth time saying it.

But the love of my life wasn't there. He died five years and six months ago. It was cancer. He suffered. Then it was over.

But not today...

Today was a day of celebration. I hit the big 8-0. No one else in my family had made it. My parents died thirty years ago. My older brother...My little sisters died in a car crash.

I was the only one who survived.

But not today...

Today was a day of celebration. I hit the big 8-0. Only twenty years stood between me and a letter from Buckingham Palace. I knew exactly where the letter would go: on the fireplace, right beside Henry's picture. It was the one of him when he fell in the bathtub. It was the first - and only - time he bathed the children. Michelle was only two years old. The terrible twos. It was a battle to get her in the bath. We tried ducky, bubbles and sweets.

Nope. She wasn't interested.

Henry decided to cheer her up with a dance. The problem was, he was a terrible dancer. Terrible! With or without music, there was no rhythm. No control. Just random wiggling and, as he gained weight, jiggling. The more Michelle clapped, the more he grooved. First it was his arms, next his hips, finally, his legs. Flopping about like a crazy man, my honey made Elle laugh until tears streamed down her chubby, pink cheeks.

Come on, April! He waved me over. Don't be shy.

My cheeks turned bright red. No one was there to witness the chaotic dance moves, but I felt shame like the world was watching.

Henry, I whispered, please.

He kicked off his slippers and slid around the room. Still swinging his arms, he slid from the toilet to the tub to the door and twirled back.

But he couldn't stop twirling. He spun so fast I felt dizzy. His body was a blur, his feet squeaking on the floor. Before I stop him, he twirled across the floor and slammed into the bath. He swayed, flapping his arms like a bird, and fell in. A small wave flowed over Elle. She spluttered, bubbles blowing out her mouth, and then giggled. Then the water around her turned bright yellow.

Henry, covered in bubbles from hips to head. Elle sitting in pee, giggling like crazy.

And that moment had been captured, immortalised for eternity.

God, I love that man.

Mum, blow out the candles! Elle gave me a gentle nudge. Yes. There are eighty. Count, if you want.

I took her word for it. Besides, I could smell the chocolate layers of cream and mousse under the white icing covered in sprinkles. Judging by the many pairs of eyes glued to the cake, I wasn't the only one. We were hungry.

Okay, camera's ready, Karl said. Mum, cut a nice big piece. He pushed some buttons and the camera bleeped. He cursed, quickly apologising to my four grandkids.

Why not buy a new camera? I asked, my stomach grumbling. What happened to your bonus money?

The mortgage. You remember that thing you used to have? His blue eyes darkened. Not everyone has thousands at home!

Your father paid off the mortgage so we could start saving. I pressed the tip of the knife into the cake and tried to push through, but it was like cutting ice. I kept chipping away while I spoke. We told you to spend your raise on clearing the mortgage. You chose a holiday or three.

Karl turned off the camera and placed it by the cake. He glared at the icing, muttering to himself.

Karl, do you have something to say?

You could help out, that's all. He grabbed the knife and held it over the cake. A thousand or two would be nice.

I gave you a thousand last month! I took off my party hat and tossed it into the bin. I do not have a money tree in my back garden!

Elle gathered her four nieces and ushered them into the living room. She closed the door and rushed back to my side.

Elle, what does he want me to do? Tears welled in my eyes. I have bills to pay—

Then sell the damn house! He thumped the table, knocking over half the candles. Elle caught them before they hit the floor. For flip's sake, just sell this bloody place!

My heart skipped a beat. I tried to imagine myself handing over the keys to my cottage, but the memories flooded back. I saw Henry carrying me over the threshold. Next, he was staying up all night with Elle on her first night home. Five years later, we brought home Karl. Our perfect family was complete.

The cottage grew with us. The two bedrooms became six. The rickety bathroom in my treasured photo flourished with two cans of peach paint and Henry's toolbox. The open plan living and dining area was split, giving the adults space to work and the kids a place to play. Our perfect home was complete.

But there was one memory that mattered more to me than most: Henry's last day. It was spent in our bedroom on the private balcony. We spent his last day listening to birds chirping, the river flowing nearby, and ended the day, and his life, watching the sunset.

I watched sunrise alone.

I cannot leave, I wept.

April—

Call me Mum!

He raised the knife and stabbed the cake twice, cutting out a clean slice. He grabbed the slice and dumped it in my hand, squashing the mushy sugary brown into my palm.

Karl, get out! I snapped. Did you hear me?

Karl pushed past and walked out the front door.

Elle grabbed a napkin and wiped my hand clean. All I could do was watch. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the glint of candlelight in the blade. I shivered, a bad feeling creeping over me.

Mum, it'll be okay. Just give him time.

I nodded, my eyes shifting to the blade.

Time? What more time? I glanced at Karl's photo by his father's. They had the same messy, brown locks. The same eyes that changed with their mood. The same love for Elle.

But they were more different.

Henry was my cuddly bear. A gentle giant, his chubby hands were so delicate, so gentle. Even at the end, when his muscles were wasting away and it was a struggle to move, he was so careful. He could handle my best China better than anyone else. The children were his priority. No one but me came close. If he was still alive, he would have gladly sold the house for Karl. Henry would have paid all of Karl's debts, and thrown in money as a bonus.

No wonder Karl was so spoilt.

Karl barely had a pinch of fat on his body. He was, as the youngsters call it, ripped. When he moved, you could see the muscles flexing, blood vessels pumping, skin stretched over bulging biceps and triceps. He kept his shoulder-length hair tied back in a ponytail with a platinum blonde streak down the centre. The blonde matched the yellow lightning bolt tattooed on his neck. Karl loved his body tattoos.

I wished he loved his daughters as much.

How are the girls? I asked. I didn't wait for an answer. I crept over and peered into the living room.

The girls were dancing around the coffee table, giggling with each other. On the television was a green alien character, his purple ears twitching in time with the cheerful music. I closed the door quietly and returned to the cake.

How are their mothers? I asked.

They want more money. Mum, they'll clear him out at this rate! Elle pleaded with her rich green eyes. Go on, Mummy. Give him something. They are your grandkids.

I sighed heavily.

When Henry passed, I had two hundred thousand pounds in my bank account. In less than a year, Karl had spent one hundred and fifty thousand of it. So far, he had nothing to show for it. All I could remember were the many excuses he had given.

I'm going travelling, he claimed. I'll come back a new man. Ten thousand pounds.

Karl went. Karl came back.

I'm starting a business, he said. Twenty thousand went into his account.

Nothing came back.

I'm going back to uni, he cried one sunny afternoon. Call me Doctor Karl. Fifty thousand pounds overnight.

No graduation so far. I had no idea if he even applied.

So where did the money go? Two places: surgery and child support.

Everyone knew his muscles were really implants. How else could he gain so much bulk so soon? I had no bodybuilding expertise, but even I knew something fishy was going on. He tried hard to hide it by spacing out his surgeries, but local gossip told me all I needed, or wanted, to know.

Child support was a major drain on our finances. Three hundred per month per child. The more he argued with the mothers, the higher the cost. No pay, no visitation, not that he seemed to mind. On the weekends, he would slave away at the fitness centre. I was the one crying at home after another month without seeing my grand-daughters.

When Henry was close to death, those angels kept him going. As his mind drifted away, he started calling each girl Elle. I found myself doing the same thing at times. The girls just looked so much like Elle it was quite eerie. They had the same auburn curls, dazzling green eyes, and those worrisome faces when things turned for the worse. Just one long, sad look my way and I gave in. Sweets, a later bedtime, another doll. Anything they wanted they would get.

But I could not...no. I would not spoil Karl any longer. At forty-five years old, it was time he raised himself. A father of four young ladies - aged two to seven - he had a world of responsibility on his shoulders, and it was nothing a condom and common sense couldn't have prevented.

I cannot help your brother anymore. I cupped her slender face in my hands. Look at you! So successful. What a difference five years makes.

Not even a grand? Her eyes narrowed. Come on, Mum. This isn't like you.

She was right.

Hitting the big 8-0 was a wake-up call. If I intended to reach three digits, I needed to live better. Exercise, less stress, and a healthy diet would be the foundation to take me to a century alive. Just in case life got in the way, I would live like there was no tomorrow because one day, there wouldn't be. Poor Henry knew the end was nigh, but would I be so lucky?

I am going to spend the next twenty years living well, I told her. Holidays, day trips, shopping, and, of course, time with the girls.

Elle gave an uncomfortable smile. It was the one she gave whenever I asked if she was happy.

Mum, that all sounds so—

Big! Bold! I stood tall, quite proud of myself. I checked online and found some great deals. All inclusive!

No, she said. It sounds expensive. We've only got fifty thousand leftover.

We have half a million.

Her eyes lit up and she hugged me. Great! I need a bit myself. Daryl's contract fell through and my loan was declined and—

Tied up in this home. I placed a hand on the wall and pictured my Henry slaving away. We bought it for eighty thousand. His heart and soul made it what it is today. I took her hand and led away from the door, just in case. Do not tell Karl. He will want to sell our home.

Don't worry, she said. I won't say a word to him.

––––––––

Elle said you're leaving us, Karl said over the phone. Lucky for some, I guess.

And that was the reason why he did not have to know. At least not until I was on a plane thousands of feet in the sky.

Karl, sweetheart, I do not want to fuss. Definitely not. It was four in the morning! Honey, it is very early...Do you need bail, again?

I wanna help.

How so?

Mum, you aren't a youngster anymore. If you'll be travelling around, you've gotta be fit. You understand?

Oh, God...

Meet me at the gym at six, he said. Don't be late. He hung up.

Me, at some sweaty fitness centre. The last time I had set foot in a place like that, I was nineteen. And I only did it so I could see Henry all drenched in sweat. He still had a six pack at the time, not the pot belly I grew to love.

But I digress...

Why was Karl being so helpful? Money. It had to be. He owed someone money and I would be left with the bill again.

Or so he thought.

The answer is no, I told myself. Just say no...

––––––––

The gym was worse than I remembered. The tiny machines of my time had been replaced by monsters of machinery. It was a sea of black and silver bars attached to thick cables. The cables led to bulky weights that looked like tyres. At the base there was a thin, rubber mat with puddles of smelly sweat or a reclined seat covered in wet patches. No machine was idle for long. It only took seconds before another bodybuilder plopped down and adjusted the machine. Minutes later, he was pink-faced, puffy cheeked and gasping for air. I flinched when his sweat trickled down, mixing with the stains left by others.

I stuck my fingers in my ears, but I could still hear the clanging metal as the weights banged on the floor. A muscular man in front of the mirror roared at his reflection as he slowly lifted a barbell overhead. His arms trembling, he held it steady and groaned as his neck muscle bulged. Close to him was a younger, scrawnier man on a bench. He worked his biceps, counting out loud when he, supposedly, passed one hundred. The mirror man groaned louder, drowning out the next numbers, so the young man counted louder until he was shouting.

Then music blasted from the ceiling speakers. It was rock, the guitars so loud my ears ached. I pushed my fingers in deeper and prayed the song would end.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder.

Hey, Mum! Karl flexed his biceps. You ready to look like this?

It is unladylike.

I walked past him to the row of treadmills overlooking the dark, empty street below. All ten machines were available, so I hopped on the first one and tried to walk. The belt didn't budge. I tried again, but the belt stayed still. Karl stood over me while I looked over the dashboard. Whenever I reached for a button, he coughed. He couldn't fool me - I knew him too well, or so I thought - that cough couldn't disguise the laughter.

Need any help? he asked, looking particularly smug.

I know how to use a treadmill, darling. I have used them since before you were born.

Wow. Forty-five years ago. My, had treadmills changed. Instead of a simple belt over two rollers, and a basic frame to hold on to, now treadmills had computers! There were flashing red lights by buttons, and a tiny screen with lots of numbers. The simple bar had been replaced by a massive one my tiny hands struggled to grip. On both sides was a big, red button. Yes, I tried pressing those, but nothing happened.

Mum, you're behind the times, he said, grinning. That's what happens when you get old.

I can do it...

Let me. He nudged me aside and pushed several buttons so fast my head spun. The treadmill bleeped and the belt slowly rolled back. I walked, quite proud of myself. It was a pace so slow a snail could keep up, but it was a start.

Faster? Karl asked, pushing another button. The belt sped up, making me slightly winded. A moment later, I'd adjusted. It was a great start.

I will stick with this for now, I said. If you show me what to press, I'll do it myself. Then you can return to the other side of the centre.

Too slow, he said. You've got to make an effort. You get out what you put in, right? His eyes narrowed. That's what you said to me, anyway. He pushed the button again, and now I was briskly walking. My skin heated up, and there were a few beads of sweat on my face. There was a slight pang in my chest, but I walked it off.

How long are you going for? Where are you going? When will you be back?

I tried to step off to talk, but he gently pushed me back on. Almost