Murder!

When I got to work last night Marcel was there, even though he wasn’t scheduled to work.  I knew what that meant: Virgil Ray would be coming in for his sleep analysis.  The entire week I tried to put it out of my mind, but the fact is he’s a murderer who I called out for being a murderer.  Marcel doesn’t believe me and thinks I’m being irrational.  As you can see, the whole thing was setting up to be a movie where you are all rooting for me.  Do you hear that?  You were all rooting for me.  Though of course in the movie I would probably die because the real hero was Marcel. 

I pretty much stayed in the utility closet working on sketches when it came time for Virgil to show up.  I had worked it out in my head that I never knew Hazel Ray, Virgil’s wife, so it wasn’t my business that Virgil killed her.  Besides, she was killed 20 years ago, so if it were by business I would have long since been fired for incompetence, and it would therefore no longer be my business.  Either way, I was staying in that utility closet.

The utility closet is as large as a room.  It has all our cleaning supplies, the time clock, and a desk where Rex does the scheduling.  The left half of the desktop was once a tablet for Rex to scratch new possible nicknames for me.  It reads:

    Virus Butterbee
    Spirus   Die Rus  Die for Us 
    Typhus
    Spineless        Wondergeek
    Wintergreen  Winterbee   Bitterdeed
    Syphlus Buttertree
    You spelled that wrong
    WHO TOLD YOU YOU COULD LOOK AT MY DESK? 
    Rex Tugwell Sucks
    I HATE BIRDS AND CYRUS WETHERBEE
    Rex is an odd name too
    REX MEANS KING IN LATIN WHAT DOES CYRUS MEAN? 
    Cyrus means gentle bird-lover
    IN BED!
    You are out of space.

The utility closet also shares a wall with one of the rooms for the patients.  Virgil wasn’t in this room so I couldn’t hear what Marcel was saying to him.  Once I figured Virgil was asleep though I got out and did some cleaning.

This morning, just before I went off shift I heard one of the rooms open.  There was Virgil Ray, just as large, bearded, and hairy as last week.  He smiled at me but I didn’t smile back.  Marcel came down the hall and he and Virgil walked into one of the conference rooms to talk about the readings.  They were in there for a few minutes.  When the door opened Marcel invited me inside.  I told him I needed to go check on the owl nesting box out back.  Marcel just waved me inside, though.

The only chair was next to Virgil.  Marcel sat across from us.  I don’t know much about marriage, but I bet if marriage counselors were as good looking and charming as Marcel LeFarge no one would ever get reconciled.  They would keep going to marriage counseling, though.  After a couple moments of silence, Marcel raised his hand and Virgil turned to me.

Marcel asked me, “Cyrus, do you know how Virgil’s wife passed away?”  I said, “I’m not sure, but he looks like a strangler.”  Marcel asked Virgil if he wanted to tell me.  I said I didn’t need anyone to tell me the dirty little details.  I stood up and said, “You asked me to find out what was wrong.  I did.  This man murdered his wife.  I know because he told me so.”  I imagined Rachel watching me, and when I do that I try to act really noble and smart.  So I knew not to say anything more and walked out.

I went straight to the utility closet and shut the door.  It opened though, and Virgil Ray stood in the doorway.  He pulled on his big gray beard a bit, then looked me directly in the eye and said, “I murdered my wife.  I know that.”  Then he shut the door and walked out of the Sleep Center.   For the last twenty minutes of my shift I sat at Rex’s desk and thought about how my dad would have been proud of me.  He always said, “Truth is a black-toothed bitch, but you better marry her anyway.”

When I puched out on the time clock Marcel offered to give me a ride home.  He wasn’t on-shift, so he could leave whenever he wanted.  That means he was waiting for me.  We made the drive home in silence until Marcel pulled into my driveway and asked me if that was my Camaro.  I told him no, but he could have it if he wanted.

When I got out of the car Marcel rolled down his window and called me back.  He said, “Virgil and his wife had a really bad fight one night and she left him.  Got in her car and drove away.  She was broadsided by a tractor trailer.  Severed her spine.  She spent her last week in the hospital, conscious but blind.  Just waiting for each of her organs to shut down.  Virgil blamed himself.  Still does.  So much he can’t even get himself to walk into that cemetery.” 

I realized there were a few ways I could respond.  If I were thinking about Rachel I would have said something noble, but I was thinking about how Marcel got me into this mess even though all I ever did was tell the truth.  So I said, “In your face,” and went inside.