Matilda: Part 2 - Thomas

            

           Thomas had a problem. He had a plan to resolve it, too. His problem was Matilda. When he agreed to marry her, he thought he could work around her barb tongue. Through his growing up years, he watched his father block his mother's persistent yammering and thought he had the auditory sensors' turning-off abilities. Thomas was an idiot.

            At first, Matilda fulfilled a need in him. She gave him attention. Awkward Thomas usually repelled women. Constantly hunched down to bring his unusual height to a less freakish level, he looked like a sinister character in a cartoon. Thomas lacked bulk and when he dressed in tight t-shirts, his bones protruded under the fabric, possibly landing him a spot on a world hunger poster. When Matilda connected eyes with his and smiled, his world brightened. Riding that wave of exhilaration led him to imagine he could spend the rest of his life with her. But when she opened her mouth, the wave crashed against a boulder, and he found himself drowning.

            Thomas had to get out of the commitment, but knew Matilda would not allow it. Finding a way became an obsession for him, a drug he craved. She bulldozed her way into his life and anything short of a miracle would not push her out. A miracle, or a well-executed plan. He spent nights pouring over his journal, scheming a plot that was bound to succeed. He made the proper arrangements, took into account every possibility he could think of. He needed to find the right moment.

The day Thomas walked out of the house, he was ready. The afternoon sun blinded him for an instant before he stepped off the sidewalk. He lifted his hand to shield his eyes, looked left and right and headed to the other side of the street. Thomas hadn't counted on two things happening at the same time. He didn't expect Matilda not to run after him. His plan's success depended on her following him into the street. The fact that she wouldn’t never crossed his mind. Matilda loved him; surely she would go after him. Yet, she didn't.

            The second thing was the sun in his face. When he concocted his plan, he thought he would be able to ignite her fuse for a fight earlier in the day. But it took too long to muster his courage, and when she finally exploded enough to warrant him walking out, the daylight had run away from him. So he shielded his eyes from the sun with his hand. Only that was the signal the truck driver parked at the end of the street waited for. Thomas spelled it out for him in an email when he hired him, neglecting to stress that round Matilda was the target, not the tall thin man.

I tried to include all the suggestions I received in developing the story. If you're up for Part 3, let me know. And of course send me your suggestions, feedback, disapproval or acceptance of this one.