The Wife with No Hands (Part 2)

Read Part 1

Or, in summary, Larry and Theresa are about to lose their butcher shop to the bank. Enter Jimmie Chick, a dangerous mobster who has been in love with Theresa since they were all teenagers. He bullies Larry into making a sucker bet for all the equipment in the back room of the butcher shop, or so that’s what Larry thinks Chick wants. Larry is afraid of what Chick might do to him and Theresa if he doesn’t make the bet. Figuring they still have insurance on the shop, he thinks he has nothing to lose, so he reluctantly makes the bet with Chick.

The next morning, Larry drove down the alley leading to the back entrance into the butcher shop. Theresa sat beside him in the passenger seat sipping a cup of coffee.

“I hope we can sell the rest of our stock before noon and take the rest of the day off,” Larry said before he caught sight of a limousine parked in his usual spot.

“Is that Jimmie Chick again?” Theresa asked, her tone half annoyed, half fearful. “I hope you didn’t do something stupid yesterday.”

As Larry parked behind the limousine, he made no attempt to respond to Theresa. Instead, he thought how quickly Chick collects on a bet. Larry pulled the keys from the ignition and handed them to Theresa. “Go inside.”

Larry approached the limo and cautiously opened the door. Every part of him shook with fright as he got inside and sat beside Chick. He thought he might have a heart attack when the door lock clicked.

“Mornin’,” Chick said.

“Morning,” Larry replied, a high pitched squeak in his voice. He cleared his throat and placed his hand on his left knee, hoping to hide a nervous jitter.

“I’ll get right to it, Larry. That sure bet turned out to be . . . not so sure.”

Larry’s eyes widened and fixed, staring into space. He nodded his head in a slow motion, fully aware that this was coming, but the shock of the situation was just now setting in.

“I’m here to collect. I figured the sooner the better.”

“Sure, but can’t you come back tonight instead? Give us a chance to sell some more of our stock?” Larry winced before adding, “I could leave the back door open and if it looks like a robbery, I can collect the insurance.”

“A robbery? What are you talking about?”

Larry frowned. “The equipment in the back room, in the kitchen. You know, payment for the lost bet.”

Chick laughed so hard he choked. When he could finally catch his breath and speak, he said, “Kitchen equipment? Why would I want used equipment from a butcher shop?”

Larry’s frown deepened. “Then what did you want?”

“Have you forgotten that Theresa was in the back room when you made the bet.”

“Are you crazy!” Larry reached for the door handle and yanked at it frantically to make a hasty exit, forgetting that Chick had locked him in.

“Don’t be such a sore loser. I won her fair and square.” Jimmie Chick opened a small refrigerator beside his feet and pulled out a bottle of champagne. “Now go and get Theresa so we can toast to my win.”

“You can’t have my wife, you bastard.”

“Careful,” Chick pointed his finger at Larry in a darting motion.

Larry twitched while he said, “She won’t go with you.”

“Well, you’ll just have to change her mind.”

“Seriously, she’d kill herself before she—”

“You lose the bet and you insult me like that?”

Larry didn’t respond.

“I’ll tell you what.” Chick said, “I’m a fair man. And neither of us wants Theresa to do something unfortunate, like take her own life. Still, you owe me at least a part of her for losing the bet. So . . . I will accept your wife’s hands as payment for your debt and you can keep the rest of her. Otherwise, you give me all of her.”

Larry’s jaw dropped open. “You are crazy.”

“I’m not going to warn you again, Larry. You bring me your wife or her severed hands by noon, or I will kill you both.” Chick grasped the cork on the champagne bottle and yanked it out. “Now get out of my car.”

* * *

Larry found Theresa stocking the display case. He stood watching her, wishing the moment could last forever and he would never have to break the news to her about Chick’s ultimatum.

“There’s not much left to sell,” Theresa said. “I think we may be out of here by noon like you were hoping.” Theresa stood straight up, and when she looked into Larry’s eyes, the smile on her face turned flat and unsure. “Larry, are you okay?”

Larry hung his head.

“Oh my God, what did you do?”

“I was trying to save us, but I made it worse.”

“Save us? From Jimmie?” Theresa’s face turned white. “You know he gets whatever he wants.”

“Except you,” Larry said then added in his mind, Until now.

“Just spill it.”

“He tricked me into making a bet.”

“A bet for what. We don’t have anything.”

“I lost you.” Larry hung his head in his hands and cried, “I lost you.”

“You can’t lose me. I won’t go.”

“That’s what I told him. He said he’d kill us unless I either delivered you or your severed hands to him by noon.” Larry laughed and cried at how insane he sounded.

“You think this is funny?” Theresa snapped then ran to the kitchen.

Larry ran after her. He broke through the swinging doors to find Theresa holding a meat cleaver. She’s lost it, he thought and approached her cautiously, not sure if she intended to use it on him or herself. “Give me the cleaver,” he said and to his surprise, she handed it to him without arguing.

Theresa put her hands down on the butcher block. “You lost the bet, you cut them off.”

Larry held back a chuckle. She had to be joking so he thought he’d play along. “Honey, it’d be easier to use the band saw.”

“You’re right,” she said and ran to the saw and turned it on. “I can even do the first one myself. Get some towels and call nine one one. In a minute, I won’t have fingers to do it myself.” She held one hand in the other and aimed her wrist at the blade.

“Stop it!” Larry yelled and ran to her.

“I’d rather live with you without hands than die with you. Promise me you’ll finish the job.” Her legs buckled as she pushed her wrist forward.