Everything Kaye...Storytelling

One That Murders.

Schesco Nyarwaya/Upsplash 

I'm no stranger to murder. I mean my father was stabbed to death when I was 6. He was protecting his sister from her husband that was beating her. I never knew his murderer, you know like meeting him at a family gathering or even just passing him on my way to candy store in our neighborhood. Even when I did meet him, rather occupy the same space as him. It was years later, I was around 20 years old. He came to visit my dad's other sister and I happened to be there. He asked to hold my daughter, not knowing who he was at the time-I consented. He never said who he was, neither did anyone tell me til long after he left. 

But to know a murderer, breathe the same air day in and day out. Standing shoulder to shoulder at the mailbox,exchanging hellos. Even swimming together in the community pool. Who would have known? What was different about him than the other residents in our building? His small round pale freckles glistening as we talked and laughed poolside. They always seemed happy, he was always smiling. They were in their early 20's. So hanging out with a neighbor girl in highschool wasn't so bad. As we sat by the pool that day I watched his girlfriend push the water droplets down his legs. She couldn't have been no taller than 4"11. Her naturally curly hair hanging pass her shoulders. My mom would never let me wear a two-piece swimsuit. She looked pretty in her kelly green suit. Every morning I would see her leaving for work. They shared a car so she would ride with a co-worker. Navy blue pants with a light blue button down shirt, I assumed it was their uniform. She would be carrying her lunch. After I would make it to the bus stop. I would see Kurt come out the building and get in their blue Delta 88. They both worked in a plant but Diana worked in the HR Dept. 

I never really remembered anyone visiting their apartment. Mostly because we lived on the outer part of the city. Like us, they always went in town to visit because no one wanted to drive way out there. Diana's mom came by every once and awhile. I passed them one day at the mailboxes in the hall of the building. Since I was the first one home; my job was to check the mail. She wasn't overly friendly but polite. 

"I see your checking the mail."

"Yeah, it's kinda my job", as I smiled looking at their facial features.

"This is my mom", as she nudged her.

"Hello, nice to meet you".

"Same."

"Well we better get going Diana".

"Bye, baby girl!"

I didn't mind her calling me that, but it's still funny because she was only 23. 

School was getting ready to be out for the year. I couldn't wait to start highschool next year. A new family had just moved into our complex. I was walking over to ask her if she was starting now or waiting til next year. As I walked out the building I noticed a bicycle on the sidewalk close to the curb. Before I had time to figure out who's bike it was; Kurt walked out and over to it. He smiled and waved and said he'll be back later. Sitting on bike I saw him pause and then start peddling. I thought he probably was trying to make sure he had everything. I started walking down the sidewalk;  I looked back in his direction, I could only see a glimpse of his white t-shirt, being carried back and forth by the wind.

We didn't hear anything that night. It wasn't till I got home from school with all the crap I let accumulate in my locker all year. Every year I say "I'll clean it out way before school is out". I never do. "Mom, can you grab that?" She was talking with a man that looked like Kurt but taller and older.Kurt was short and kinda stocky. He had the same freckles but with a stubby golden-red beard. It looked shabby and unkept. 

As I unlocked the door, I could somehow feel something was wrong. Never in my wildest imagination, would I had believed the horror that had taken place. Usually grown people business was grown people business. But I think because this was so close to home,exactly one small staircase away, she had to tell us. She sat us three kids down and told us what happened. 

Yesterday children, our upstairs neighbor Kurt rode his bicycle to Diana's job and walked through the plant and went to her office and shot her in the chest. She died before she made it to hospital. Kurt has been arrested and charged with her murder. He won't be returning to the apartment. His brother drove here from Indiana to get the dog. 

As I laid in bed that night I replayed friday over and over. This time in slow motion. The door opening and hearing a slight whistle when it shut. Kurt's gym shoes scratching the sidewalk, then going silent as he walked on the grass,then scratching again on pavement. His smile, it was normal wasn't it? Nothing sinister about it. That's what a murderer looks like? All the ones I knew look like normal everyday people. He wasn't hunched over and  sweating. His vains wasn't popping out the sides of his head, neither were his teeth grinding like in a horror movie. There was no prelude to a murder plot at all. He looked as if he was going to get ice cream or meet up with some friends. 

The other woman in the office was left unharmed. But she was too distraught to be interviewed. When she was on the news she just kept crying, my mom cried with her. They did interview the cleaning lady who happened to walk by right as he shot her. She said he shot Diana as she turned around, she doesn't think she had time to mentally register what was happening. He shot her in the heart and turned around and walked out. 

When the time came for his sentencing,he never looked up. He never said sorry, or said why. In all the 32 years he has been locked away, he has never allowed anyone to come visit him. He is one that murders.

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