Lesson 20: Dragging out of suspense

I saw the bell in front of me and I would have rung it like what I did for the past few months but now…I couldn’t do it especially not after what happened. I have to will myself to press it but…it was as difficult as having to end the life of my pet dog who was gasping for air in my hands. No, it was harder. Harder than to see it die rather than struggling to breathe and tears welled in my eyes as I thought of it. Still, I have to shoulder on. My family depends on this, depends on me to do this single act. Marcel has been good to her, not to me. But as her father, I can’t do it to Marcel.

Yes, Marcel is rich. But I am only a poor gardener in her home surely I can do it. I must do it or my dear Alisha will die. I have to do it and she, Marcel, my employer is so old, widow, with no children of her own but that rascal who claimed to be her grand nephew who forced my hand…
Yes, I shall do it or Alisha will die. I pressed the button.
Old Madam Marcel walked difficultly to the door. I could hear each step she took, heavy and with pain on each step. How can I not recognise them, I have served her, served her husband and her children who died in a plane crash so many years ago. When she hesitated and then opened, I swore that she was crying. For me or Alisha or herself? She looked up and it felt like ages for her to see my teary eyes.

“They got Alisha too, aren’t they?” Her words of resignation and tremor hit my heart like a brick. I could only nod when she sighed and ushered me inside. I saw her left hand behind the door, she was holding a Remington model 700 and it was fully loaded.