Ten Grand and a Slap

 

The Morning After a Long Night

Nelly wasn’t having a good time that night as he sat on his couch, cursing the day he first tasted alcohol. He and his buddies had stolen old man Lima’s drink as he passed out from his daily routine of drinking and vomiting. He was just a kid then; it had been a dare, and in those days, kids tended to do things. According to his friend Paul, they should have a taste so when they grew up, they could boast they had such adventures as kids. He was plastered that night; he had heard that to kill a hangover, you need more alcohol, and so he was still drinking even after he and his buddies had left the bar. It was late; as a bachelor, he was glad he lived alone.

An Unexpected Visitor

Nelly is forty, handsome, and has a chin that looks like it was sculpted by a professional. He had a thin wisp of a beard that he liked touching; even though he is no fan of beards, he kept it so he wouldn’t look like he was still a teen. He has a small stature and no one would look at him and say he is forty, though he has a few gray hairs. He heard a knock on his door and cursed whoever would be there, wondering why someone would trouble him so late at night. He stood up, staggering to his door, and wrestled with it a bit before dragging it open.

Standing there with a big grin on his face was his friend Paul. "Wacha doing here?" he slurred, keeping his hands on the door frame so he wouldn’t fall.

"The wife kicked me out," Paul said, pushing past him as he entered the house.

The High Cost of Marriage

Nelly staggered and fell to the ground, but surprisingly, the drink didn’t spill. He struggled to sit up on the floor. "Why would Helen kick you out?"

"Don't mind the woman who always thinks she is better than me."

"Yeah, women are a big problem," Nelly said as he crawled to the couch, sweating.

"Do you still have the juice you're drinking?" Paul asked him.

"In the fridge, buddy. You can help yourself."

"That was fun earlier today, man. I have never been so high. But come to think of it, my father used to say drinking is the worst enemy to a man," Paul said as he dragged a bottle out from the fridge.

"Wise man. I wonder why you're not listening to him," Nelly remarked.

"Don't forget I'm now a father too. It is my place to give wisdom to my son."

"Yeah. Why did Helen kick you out?" Nelly asked him again.

"She says she smelled the booze on me."

"But that is no crime—you know, having a few drinks is like counting your Wealth Of Her Tears."

"Well, we had a contract we signed when we got married," Paul said, taking a swig from the bottle.

"Never heard of that, man. What were you thinking?"

"I was in love," Paul said, sitting down.

"So?"

"Well, love makes men do many things."

"I'm glad I'm not married yet, then. Can't let a wife kick me out for having a few bottles."

"That is not all," Paul said.

"Really? What now?"

"I will have to pay her ten grand for getting caught."

"Shit."

"Yeah, it sucks. But those are the rules."

Regrets and Reflections

They were silent after that, each lost in his own thoughts. Nelly was glad he wasn't married yet and wondered if he would ever meet someone who would turn a blind eye to his lifestyle. He wondered who he would ever marry; would she let him have the fun that he was used to? He hated nagging.

Paul wasn't in the same situation. He thought Helen would turn a blind eye when it came to him hanging out with the guys. He wondered what made her so vicious; she used to let him be, and now he had ten grand to pay her. He sighed and thought Nelly had a great life, not married yet and able to do whatever he wanted. Come to think of it, Nelly had told him not to rush, but he wouldn't hear of it.

The Confrontation

They were silent, continuing their drinking spree, when another knock came.

Nelly cursed loudly. "Who the hell are you? Do you want to break my door, you fool?"

The knock came again and he staggered to open the door. When he opened it, he came face to face with Helen.

"You dare call me a fool?" she asked him as she held him by his throat.

"Sorry, it was a mistake," he said, seeing her wrinkle her nose with distaste.

"Have you been drinking?"

"No," he said, trying to stand straight.

"Is my husband here?"

"Sure," he said with a grin that she slapped right off his face. Now he knew why Paul was afraid of her. He hadn't looked at her closely these days, and now that she was standing right in front of him, he could see the muscles bulging. As she slapped him, he could feel the roughness of her palm; she was like a man in a woman's body.

"Did you give Paul a beer?"

"No, ma'am. He took it himself."

Paul was shaking as he listened to his wife round on Nelly. He knew he’d had it this time, as she would not take it easy on him. What he hadn't told Nelly was that his wife beat him and he did all the chores while she sat down, pointed out whatever he missed, and told him to start again.

The Defiance

"What is the matter with you?" Nelly asked as he blocked Helen from entering his house.

"That is none of your business. Get out of my way now," she said with a snarl.

"In my own home? Are you mad!" he exclaimed, and spittle flew and hit her face.

She took a step back, wiping at her face with disgust. Paul let out the breath he was holding as he heard Nelly’s voice; he wondered if Nelly would be alright, as he was no match for Helen’s brute force. He hid there, listening.

"How dare you call me mad," Helen fumed. "How dare you."

"Oh, shut it. How can you come to a man’s house this late at night and be knocking on his door? Do you have anything with me?"

"I’m here for my husband," she said to him.

"Well, you will have to come back another time. We are busy now."

"Doing what?"

"That is none of your business. Now leave my home before I call the cops on you."

"You will pay," she said angrily before she left.

The Secret Revealed

Nelly got back into his house with a grin. "Now that was fun," he muttered.

"You shouldn’t have provoked her," Paul said. "She would beat me for this."

"Wait, are you saying your wife beats you?"

Paul kept silent; he should have kept his mouth shut, and now he had exposed himself.

"Wow, what the hell is wrong with you? How can your wife beat you?"

"You don’t know how strong she is," Paul said.

"Shit, Paul, this is domestic abuse. You need to file for divorce or talk to the cops."

"I can't, man. I love my wife."

"Love has blinded you. Shit, you need to see a shrink or whatever they are called."

"Counselor."

"Does it matter? You just need help, man."

"I don't want anything to happen."

"Yeah, so beating you is something not happening?"

"That is different. I displeased her; that is why."

"Shit, you damn well need help. You can’t be used as a punching bag."

"At least she is happy."

"Are you outta your mind? Man, you can't be justifying bullshit."

"Just don’t do anything and keep this to yourself."

"If you say so," Nelly said, but deep down he knew he wouldn't keep it to himself. He would be sharing it with the guys first thing in the morning; their buddy needed help.

Another Weekend

It was another weekend and the guys were in their regular bar having a drink. Nelly wasn’t happy seeing that Paul had turned up that night; he kept his opinion to himself and hoped he wouldn’t have to tell the guys of the constant domestic beating Paul is facing in his home. After all, Mike is the lawyer among the group.

"Did you attend a funeral?" Mike asked Paul.

Paul jerked out of his thoughts with a silent curse. "No, why do you ask?"

"You look somber, and besides, you look like a man who has lost a large sum of money."

At this, Paul narrowed his eyes and looked at Nelly, who was studying his bottle as if he were in one of his laboratories.

"Both of you are the heart of our small group," Scott said. "Looking as you are in a sour mood, it seems the beer is not that strong."

"Anyway, I had a case in court earlier today; it was a matter of domestic violence."

"Shit," Paul said.

Mike nodded his head, taking Paul's word as an exclamation of outrage. "Yeah, you can imagine. People still stick to those who harm them and degrade them to nothing but trash."

The Gathering

"What happened?" Scott asked Mike.

"A man has been giving his wife a hard time. Turned out it has been going on for years and she is too afraid to speak out," Mike said.

"That is very bad, man. I can't let a man do that to my sister," Scott swore.

"So the last time, he nearly broke her spine and she had the courage to contact me. The rest is history, guys; the poor guy is renting a room in one of the prison cells now."

"Wow! Served him right," Nelly said as he looked at Paul, whose hands were shaking. "So, what if it was a woman doing the beating?" Nelly asked Mike.

At this, both Mike and Scott burst out laughing, and Mike nearly fell out of his seat. "Wait—so a woman can beat a man in his own home even when he paid for her bride price?"

"It's like paying for a beating, but this one is happily ever after," Scott said, laughing.

"Well, if you put it in that way, it sounds somehow," Nelly said with a grin.

"Hey Paul, you're the smart one among us. What do you think of what Nelly asked about?" Scott asked him.

The Hidden Truth

Paul had a nervous laugh at that, and they could see his hand shaking. He muttered under his breath, "When you have never experienced it, you can laugh all you want."

"Paul!" Mike tapped him.

"What! Eh... I... What was the question?"

"Shit, man, are you okay?"

Paul planted a nasty grin that made him look funny, and the handprint he had been hiding with makeup on his cheek popped out. Mike dragged his face closely to look properly, but Paul pulled his head away.

"Are you putting on makeup, Paul?"

"It is nothing, just a scratch she gave me."

"What are you talking about, man?" Scott asked him.

"Well, I mean... eh... my... wife... she is so... loving. She... eh... wait... I mean... she mistakenly hit me."

They burst out laughing. "Wait, man, your wife hits you?" Mike asked him.

"Wait till you meet her in person," Nelly muttered, touching his cheek where she had slapped him. Paul shot him a look that said, "Better keep your mouth shut."

"So you mean your wife hits you?" Scott asked him.

"Yeah, she does," Nelly said, ignoring Paul's look of murder. "She beats him and he has to pay her ten grand if she catches him drinking, which she did last time we were here."

The Contract

They were silent for a moment, each processing what he had just said. Mike finally turned to Paul, who had his hands over his eyes. "Eh... do you need help, Paul?"

"I love my wife. She is my world and I worship the ground she walks on. I love her with my whole heart. She wasn't like this, but I believe something changed her. Something just tweaked that beautiful woman I love that made her... beat me," Paul said.

"Wait, you are serious about your wife beating you?" Scott asked him.

Paul just nodded his head and took a swig from his bottle.

"And the ten grand?" Mike asked him.

"All true. We signed a contract when we first got married. I guess I was blinded by love; I never knew I was, eh... signing a prison sentence."

"So if you could sign off ten grand for every time you got caught, what did she sign off on her own end?" Scott asked him.

"You know women; they are always right. It was all on me," Paul said.

"I can help you get your Freedom ," Mike told him.

"How? Have you met her? Ask Nelly what happened when she came to his house last weekend."

They turned to Nelly, who just shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, she slapped me. And you know she has a bodybuilder physique, man. Her palm is made of iron. I could do nothing while Paul hid behind the couch."

Mike and Scott started laughing again, and Nelly had to throw an ice cube at them, which made them laugh harder.

"This is no laughing matter," he grumbled as he touched his cheek again, and they burst out laughing at him.

A short journey to the bank turn sour: A short journey