Who Done It? A Summer Mystery – Part 6

We were like flowers, her and I.

Yellow for happiness and inspiration, enlightenment, creativity.

Red for love, seduction, violence, danger and anger.

yellow and red daisy flowers

With my work being done in America, that is on the other side of the pond, I hastened my planning for returning to Good Old England. I realize that our American Brothers and Sisters had gained a lot by my being able help here in this former British Colony, but it was time to return home to the Queen, and all things that made England Great!

Miss Scarlett held her red handkerchief to her eyes, while she stifled a tear of regret! “How could you leave me, after all we have meant to each other?”

Indeed, How could I do such a heinous and cowardly act? I was certain that if I had remained, I would have to make an honest woman of Miss Scarlett, before she ended up on the Gallows after being caught in a compromising situation with the Chief of Police, or the head of organized crime in this part of New Hampshire! She had ways, that no man could forget, making them cry for mercy, or squeal with delight right up to the moment, when she thrust her stiletto into the heart of what had been an honest man just a few hours before.

“She made me do things, that my wife never would do”, they’d whimper as they were dragged away to the dark and disgusting holes of the worst prisons known to man. “She let me touch her there, but not the other places”, they’d say, just before they went mad with desire, having to exist without knowing her in both the Old and the New Testaments. Denied once again by that temptress.

She would always get off the hook, just before the judge’s hammer hit the table, pronouncing judgement on those sorry souls. Escorted through the back door of the courthouse, the jacket of some high priced lawyer over her head, escaping  the prying eyes of the gutter journalists, who wanted to expose corruption at any costs. She would buy Congressmen with her silence, and sell them to others who would pay dearly for the things that they knew about how the system worked. Always a trail of broken hearts and lives left in her wake. Always another sucker, waiting in the wings, waiting for her Stiletto to find its way into another innocent heart. Another live gone lost!

She was waiting for me, in the Ballroom wearing the most sultry dress, I had seen on her, making my British Blood boil for the things that she did to me. “Colonel Mustard, were you thinking of leaving me? For Good?” She made it seem as if she had bolted the doors, and swallowed the key, rather than let me escape her clutches once and for all! I eyed my Elephant Gun on the table, in the hope that I’d be able to do her, before she did me, if you catch my drift, that is!

“Eyeing your Elephant Gun, Colonel? I didn’t think that you would result to such measures, when it was just you and I, alone together, with just the length of our lips between us?”


I thought of how I could make a dive for it, rolling through the tall grasses of the Savanna, before the lioness charged for my throat. If only I hadn’t been left unawares. If only I hadn’t let my guard down for a single moment in order to take a swig of Whiskey, or look at the tattered map, hoping against hope that I’d find her in the end. Will it be enough, taking aim with my Bowie Knife, hoping to stab the beast in the heart, while it tried to tear my head off, showing no mercy whatsoever?

It seems like we literally fell into each others arms, after a jilted wife or a casino owner cheated out of his life savings, had hunted her down, cornering her at the end of the pier in Maputo. If I hadn’t chosen that moment to leap off the boat, while quickly loading the shells in my Elephant Gun while assessing the situation, I’m pretty sure, we wouldn’t have been in this situation today!

I hadn’t been in Africa rather long, before I ran into troubles with the natives who were hired to aid and protect me on my journey. They had no qualms about hacking off an important limb, if denied taking a single look at my traveling companion, the lovely Miss Scarlett. She seemed to have a way about her, using her sly smile to melt men in their shoes, and strangled them with their neckties, for the want of touching her, where she wanted to be touched, but then she denied them that pleasure all the same. It should have been against their religion, to desire someone so badly, but I had seen it before in the Maputo, after we made our narrow escape past the angry crowds and the massing group of police officers, called to rid the city of the chaos, she brought with her. It happened time and again, no matter where in the world she turned up!

Now we were here, at our camp, completely alone after having been left to our own wits, when the natives scattered like sparks from a wildfire. Scattered and left us alone to face the dangers of the wildest and darkest Africa, while in the throes of our passion that could not be denied.

Just a moment before, while we lay in each others arms, telling each other lies about what we felt about each other, and how everyone else, didn’t amount to a hill of beans, compared to our love. She told me that “I was the only one in her life that meant anything.” That all of the other men, never could hold a candle to me, nor the way that she likened our passions to being just like two wild animals in the darkest of Africa, which is where we were, by the way.

The sounds of the Lioness, seemed to be all around us, as we rose up from the bed, sweeping the mosquito net aside while reaching for the Gun, that being our only Salvation left in this God Forsaken Part of the Known World! I had just one shot, and if that failed, then we’d both be on tonight’s menu for the rest of her pride, Big Game Hunter and his mate – Bon Appétit!


I calmly walked over to the gun and felt its long, smooth barrel while looking at Miss Scarlett. “I wonder if you understand the thrust of the situation?” I said while keeping my eyes on her sultry look and gleaming eyes? “I have considered taking you in my arms and strangling the life out of you, while you stabbed me in the back with your stiletto!” Said while moving a step closer to her.

“Do you believe in love, Colonel?”

To be continued…

 

“But even flowers wither and die, you know?” – What Miss Scarlett wanted on her headstone, when her time on earth was done….

Advertisements

Author: notthedane56

My heathen tendencies are waiting to blossom at the Mid-Summer Evening in Denmark. In a Country that professes to have an overwhelming population of believers in the Christian Faith, I am always reassured by their pagan ways, at least one night per year. I won't be throwing myself on the bonfire, but I plan on being warmed by the thoughts of the fun-loving Danes, burning witches at the stake, while singing songs and drinking beer!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s