Elementary My Dear Watson
A short story by Sabri g. Bebawi
Mr. and Mrs. Nutter have been living together for about six years now; they had gotten back together after two decades of separation. Getting together had been a blessing for both of them. They had been the happiest couple living a high life on the eighth floor in a high rise in Manhattan. The building had a doorman who was well dressed and well behaved; it also had a concierge who dressed and spoke better than the American president-want-to-be Donald Trump. Life seemed stable with love and passion between both, yet it was really not for one of the two. This one had no idea or a clue what life had been storing for him and what it would bring.
Half way through the time of the companionship, Mr. Nutter discovered by accident that what he had thought of his relationship with Mrs. Nutter was not exactly what he had always envisioned. Although Mr. Nutter had had many experiences in life with the human condition, he had been surprised on several occasions; this was the worst.
Mrs. Nutter had a very close female cousin named Elizabeth with whom she would get together for a drink or a girls night out or whatever, or at least that what they would tell Mr. Nutter. Mrs. Nutter, however, confided that her cousin Elizabeth, who had been married for twenty-five-years, had been having a long time affair with another man and would use Mrs. Nutter to cover for her when she would be with her lover. So, when the husband would call to ask for his wife, Mrs. Nutter would say they were together, while that was not the fact.
Mr. Nutter advised his beloved trusted companion not to do that and not to participate in such cheating scheme. He hated cheating and considered it cowardice. She agreed. Perhaps she had stopped doing it; no one would ever know. Most likely not.
One pleasant Saturday night on April 20th, Mr. and Mrs. Nutter were in bed having fun and conversing while Mrs. Nutter was chatting with someone. As the chatting took such a long time, curiosity took the best of Mr. Nutter and innocently asked: “With whom are you chatting, my love?”
Suddenly Mrs. Nutter jumped out of bed, ran out of the room and deleted the chat. Now Mr. Nutter became suspicious since he is a trained prosecutor, a journalist and a university professor. So, he started asking logical questions why what had happened took place. One question after another, and after about eight hours through Saturday night to sunrise, Mr. Nutter decided that Mrs. Nutter was not telling the truth and decided to depart from her forever in the early morning; to where he would depart? He did not know.
Sunday morning arrived peacefully and quietly. Mrs. Nutter approached Mr. Nutter, surely after consulting with many lovers, friends, and others, and told him, “It was George, my friend, and I am sorry I was worried that you would be upset why he would chat with me so late.” Mr. Nutter laughed at the statement since he knew George and had no problem with him speaking with his companion, Mrs. Nutter. In fact, Mrs. Nutter asked if she could go to lunch with George, and Mr. Nutter had no objections or worries. This immediately reminded him of what his mother used to say: “Lies do not have legs.” It also reminded him of the great Shakespeare who wrote: “What a spider web we weave, when we practice to deceive.” The matter had never been resolved.
For many months, Mr. Nutter had suffered alone in agony trying to make sense of what had happened and why his what he had thought best lover would do what she had done. Strangely enough, stress can bring many diseases. Mr. Nutter cancer came back within five month and possibly with vengeance. That was in addition to the severe unceasing sadness and depression.
Being a philosopher and a writer, Mr. Nutter devised a scheme he certainly knew it would have the greatest impact. He used his previous knowledge about Mrs. Nutter’s cousin’s affair, and he knew, as a detective, what he could do to cause the commotion he wanted. This, it must be said, was the very first time ever in Mr. Nutter’s long life to seek revenge, as he had never been a revengeful man. The event must have had an incredible impact on his brain.
Mr. Nutter convinced Mrs. Nutter that they should have a big party in their luxurious apartment and invite all their friends and family just as a form of recuperation and reenergizing themselves. Mrs. Nutter gladly agreed and all was set for the following Saturday.
Invitations were sent to all friends and family that is present in New York and these were Mrs. Nutter’s mother and father, whom they were greatly loved and admired by Mr. Nutter. All the friends, and only the husband of Mrs. Nutter’s best friend were invited. Mrs. Nutter did not suspect why only the husband; she had just assumed that Mr. Nutter had not liked her friend for her infidelity.
The day of reckoning arrived and visitors began to come. Each was welcomed and offered drinks and Hors d’oeuvres. When all invited people were present, Mr. Nutter wanted to make an announcement. He declared that he wished everyone’s attention for a few moments. All went silent, but surprised. He picked up his cellular phone and dialed a number, when the receiver replied, Mr. Nutter asked: “Hi. This is Mr. Nutter. May I speak with Mrs. Nutter? She said she would be with you most of the night tonight.”
Mr. Nutter had put the speakerphone on and everyone could hear: “Oh! Yes, but she is in the bathroom right now. As soon as she gets out, I will ask her to call you, Mr. Nutter.” He politely and gently replied, “Thank you.” And hung up the phone. Mrs. Nutter was nervously confused. Then he asked his audience to wait for a moment. The atmosphere was tense; no one understood what exactly was going on. Mr. Nutter announces: “Now, listen. Mrs. Nutter’s phone will ring.” Sure enough, Mrs. Nutter’s phone rang and she as everyone else was utterly confused.
Mr. Nutter softly asked Mrs. Nutter to put the speakerphone on; she reluctantly did. “You Bitch; you didn’t tell me you were going with Ricardo. Your husband just called asking for you and I told him you were in the bathroom. You better call him now.”
Everyone in the room was silent. Suddenly Mrs. Nutter screamed loudly and ran out of the apartment. Mr. Nutter ran after her but she had gotten the elevator before him. He took the next one and ran looking for and calling her name running like a mad man in the middle of the road on Manhattan West Side. He could not catch up with her, so he returned to his guests. People asked repeatedly what that was about, and how did he come up with such a scheme. Mr. Nutter answered every question: “Elementary my dear Watson!”
No one ever heard from Mrs. Nutter again; not even her parents.