I am of the opinion that my sister is a cow.
A very cow-ey cow at that.
Hi.
How are you doing today?
Enough pleasantries exchanged… To my matter…
Said sister arrived the country with her family in tow for the Easter holidays. It was great seeing her again.
She and her family of course, but we were raised in a small family of four. I am her only brother. She is my only sister.
At least to the best of my knowledge. Who knows?
Anyways…
At some point she offered me a raggedy clock. It was poorly packaged in its crumpled original box.
I am not materialistic by any means, but this…
“Babes (our pet name for each other), it’s a ‘spy cam’. For keeping tabs on ish innit?”
Her British accent amuses me thoroughly.
She finds my American accent ridiculous.
We jointly blame our parents for the dilemma.
My girlfriend and I did not have kids yet. We have been together for about four years. I wanted kids. She said she did too. But we have none yet.
Busy body! Tattletale!! Happy now?! I know what you are thinking. Yes you!
Babes did not like my girlfriend much. I do not like her husband much either. So no worries there.
I say the above because the only ‘ish I had to keep tabs on’ would be my girlfriend … My sister is a cow walahi!
For lack of a better location, I placed the ugly time piece on a cabinet opposite a wash hand sink in our shared bathroom. That way, I could honestly tell my beloved cow that her Trojan horse was in use.
Babes helped me set up the contraption so I could look in on the live feed from my tablet. It was a cool toy, but my girlfriend and I live a boring life. There was nothing to see.
Since my sister et al were billed to spend about a fortnight in my home, I found it expedient to hire a man-Friday of sorts. Someone to help with coals for the grill, lifting up heavy stuff, a bit of driving… That sort of thing.
I contacted a popular ‘Nannies and Household Help’ company and a young man was sent over.
I introduced him to my immediate and extended family. My sister did not like him at all… Which was not an issue… I mean do you ever ask beef if it wants to be eaten? Or a cow how it feels about being slaughtered? Forget my sister!
My girlfriend appeared indifferent to his presence.
The only man my mom can see is my dad. Does not matter that he has been dead for a while now. She still sees him and manages to have short conversations with him.
Shake. My. Head.
Family!
Right?!
Holidays went by blissfully. Nothing life-threatening or bad.
My sister and her family returned to the United Kingdom. The ad hoc staff was retained for one extra day to help clean up. He was to work 9 to 5. I left for my place of business at about 1 pm.
There was not a lot to do at my office. Business was still in holiday mode generally, so I ended up watching documentaries via Netflix on my tablet.
On a whim I brought up the hidden camera.
My girlfriend was in the bathroom top less. She was trying to hold up her hair with some pins. Some of the pins were sticking out of her mouth.
My woman is quite busty and I found spying on her at that point in time quite erotic.
Every time she lifted up her elbows to get her hands to her hair, her firm and heavy bosom would jut out enticingly… Mmmmmm…
Busy body! Tattletale!! Happy now?! I know what you are thinking. Yes you!
So you can imagine how and why my boner deflated when a man suddenly walked into the bathroom and cupped my/her breasts from behind and started nuzzling the side of her neck.
The feed was video only. So I could not hear what was said. Or any sound.
She however spun around and shoved him…
He looked to be placating her… She threw a slap at him that fell short…
He was quick, that was why she missed. He tweaked her nipple and one boob laughing…
I immediately barked at Siri, and my girlfriends phone started to ring. Her phone was perched on an unoccupied soap holder, I could see it ring. She looked at the phone and hesitated… She said something to him and he walked out.
She did not pick up.
She did not return the call for the next fifteen minutes.
He did not return to the bathroom.
She however locked the bathroom door, collapsed sitting with her back to the door and cried.
As soon as she locked the bathroom door, I picked up my phone and called in a few favors. Then watched her for another thirteen odd minutes before I logged off.
I leaned back and replayed what I had just watched in my head. I replayed the clip mentally about a hundred times.
I pondered. I thought. A lot.
About two hours later, I locked up and went home.
She was alone. She was bleary-eyed. She was moody.
I casually asked what the matter was. To which she mumbled, “nothing baby”.
I asked her four more times over the space of three hours.
She maintained her stand.
At about eleven pm, she came up behind me and got me all worked up. I was in the den channel-surfing. She proceeded to straddle me and sensually bring us both to an above average ‘happy ending’.
Then she French kissed me and said ‘goodnight’.
My phone rang at about 11:55pm. My favors had been granted. I dressed up and drove to a destination at the outskirts of town. It was in an industrial layout. I own nine warehouses there.
My ‘friends’ were waiting for me there.
They had the man from my house tied to a chair.
I knew that he was ‘the man from the video’. But I was aghast when they told me that he was my man-Friday.
I was shocked not because he was my employee, but because of the damage he had suffered to his face. He was unrecognizable!
He had not just been beaten up. He had been systematically mangled.
Over the course of his malicious manhandling, he had confessed that he used to date my girlfriend. It had been a sexual relationship many years ago.
His posting to my house was a mere coincidence. He was as surprised as she must have been. He said that he became pleasantly surprised when he still had his job the next day.
He said that he mistook her silence for the possibility of rekindling their romance.
He said that he was sorry. But that he had only ‘tried his luck’. And that ‘nothing happened’.
He was telling the truth of course.
I am also telling the truth when I say that he was murdered that morning by my ‘friends’.
I am also telling the truth when I say that my girlfriend died ten days later.
On the day that she died, I requested that she pack up and leave. When she asked why, I told her.
My issue was simple… I could not trust her anymore.
I am the sort of character that you do not need as an enemy. But now she scared even me.
After I communicated my fears and my decision. She got up and packed without a word.
She dutifully packed up all of four years of living together in about eight hours and left.
She took her own life outside my environs that same day.
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Verily, verily I say unto you; my sister is a cow!
A cow in whom I am well pleased.
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{“Say something I’m giving up on you…”}
I played that song incessantly for you…
Till the very end though, you could not fellowship or communicate… with me…
Rip Jacqueline …