The Lovely Chocolate Mob - By Richard J. Bennett Page 0,60

home for some kids? If so, then there would be another ruined marriage on the trash heap of romance, thanks to any non-involvement on my part. No, I’m not sorry I scared Franklin! He needed scaring! He deserved a whole lot more than that, but violence is something I considered unprofessional. It’s messy, and there’s just no excuse for it. I started talking to myself, muttering, “No, I’m not sorry; I’m glad I did it!” and after a while, started yelling it. I listened for an echo, but there wasn’t much of that down there. The tunnel probably needed to be bigger. It was just me talking out loud in a concrete tube underground. It wouldn’t help thinking too much about my situation, since I didn’t want to risk getting claustrophobic. I hoped the ground wouldn’t cave in on me.

I could have married Helen, but that possibility slipped through my fingers; those children could also have been mine. I had dreamed of a quiet, peaceful, tranquil family life, with a beautiful wife who loved me and children who were all honor roll students with blond hair and blue eyes and straight teeth. Maybe I could have had a happy life. Maybe I could have been one of the beautiful people, and if not that, then perhaps one of the socially approved types. There was a lot of “coulda, shoulda, woulda” in that underground tunnel. I thought about it some more and decided my children wouldn’t have been as handsome as Franklin’s; obviously he had the superior “pretty-boy” gene to pass along to his children.

Life was like this tunnel, in that I had no choice but to keep crawling forward. I could have gone backwards, I supposed, but I knew what was back there. I kept going forward even after Helen dumped me for Franklin, and here I was still stuck in a fix. Maybe it was better for Helen to marry Franklin instead of me; he could probably handle things better. If she had married me, she’d have to keep her expectation levels down, and not push me too hard to be successful and acquire stuff so she could live the life she wanted. I’m not sure I could be “out there” too much in the public eye. I’ve never been good at selling myself.

Those kids. They were all genetic wonders. I know my family, and we’re not picture-perfect. The kids that Helen and I would have had would have been a watered-down version of what she had now; perhaps they’d all come with my character flaws as well.

Those kids! What beautiful kids. I could never have done as well. Maybe it was better that I’d never married; I could never have sired such great-looking kids like that. And they were all bright, too, and seemed happy. It sure would be a terrible thing for their family to break up; this would shatter their little worlds.

“I’m glad I did it!” I yelled, again.

That felt better. The only good thing about being down there was that it wasn’t winter, and I wasn’t freezing my tail off. I was in a cramped space, but at least I wasn’t shivering. I could be thankful for that. “Thank you, Lord,” I said. “Now please get me out of here.”

I had gone through all the thinking I could do on my own, and decided to ask for wisdom, since I was on my knees, anyway. “I’m sorry, Lord,” I started. “Please give me guidance. I deserve this. I know I’ve earned it. We scared Franklin and stole money and stuck our noses in other people’s business. Maybe. I led the group; the fault is all mine. Please don’t punish Walter and David; I talked them into it. You’re good. Thank you for being good. Help me to be good.”

“Ow! Sh**!!” My palm found a pebble. I remembered I was in the middle of a prayer. “Sorry, Lord. I know I cuss too much. I’m working on that. But this is like a sewer down here and I was probably thinking on that.” I had no business cussing around the Almighty, although He knows I have a quick temper at times. That’s no excuse, just an explanation.

The mind switched gears quickly while placed under duress. “Lord, why did Helen leave me? I tried to be good to her. Since you’re sovereign, I guess you knew what you were doing when you let her leave me. I guess you were making me into something besides a husband.