In honor of Saint Valentine’s Day, I’m posting a touching love story. Enjoy!
“I’m just a soul whose intentions are good. Oh Lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood.”
If you will allow me, I’d like to give you my side of the story. I know the papers and television have painted me as a monster, something that should be exterminated at the soonest possible moment. But I did what I did for a very good reason.
It all started on that cold day in February two years ago when she walked into my shop. At the time, I was a woodworker—a cabinet maker. She was not beautiful, but then again she was not unpleasant to the eye. I can still remember her first words. “Are you Abner Crochet?” Seeing as how that was my name, I answered in the affirmative. My time is limited; they will be coming for me shortly, so I’ll have to leave much out of my narrative, but the salient facts are as follows.
She said she wanted me to construct an old-fashioned type wardrobe of maple with cypress shelving. But I ask you, if that is all she wanted, why in heaven’s name did she come on to me in such a manner?
What manner, you may ask. Well, I will tell you.
At our third meeting, while I was showing her the plans I had drawn up for her commission, she placed her hand on mine. Yes, I know that does not seem like much, but you did not see the look in her eyes. After that day, the relationship grew. She would come by almost daily to check on the progress of the piece. At least that is what she claimed, but I knew different … she was falling in love with me as I had fallen in love with her.
Then the day came when my work was done. She was thrilled with the finished product, and over and over again she told me that I was an artist and my work should be in museums. That was pleasant to hear, not because she liked my work, but because I knew that she loved me.
I expected to see her the next day when the piece was to be picked up. However, I was disappointed. She sent two workmen in her stead. So I called her on the phone, and can you believe it? She pretended that she had not the slightest feelings for me. She said, “I assume you’re calling about the bill. Well, I’ve already sent off the check with a little extra because my fiancé loves it so much. It is to be my wedding present to him.”
What was she talking about? She had not once mentioned a fiancé! She touched my hand, for God’s sake! I could only mutter a weak thank you, and hung up the phone. I had to think.
Admittedly, I have not been around women very much. Until she came into my life, I don’t think I’d even touched a woman. But I knew she felt towards me as I felt towards her. She placed her hand on top of mine!
“Yes … yes …”
I’m being told I must gather my belongings for the move. But before I do so, I must explain myself. I’ll be brief.
Knowing she loved me as I loved her meant only one thing. She was being forced to marry against her will. I had decided that I would have to intercede on her behalf. That is why I broke into the apartment. I was only going to reason with the man. Tell him of our true, great love.
Then my world, all my hopes and dreams, crumbled before me. When I flicked on the bedroom light … when I flicked on the bedroom light … even now it is hard for me to put into words what I saw. When I flicked on the bedroom light, there he was, and there she was! They were lying in the same bed! And neither one of them were decent.
I know I said I went there only to convince my rival that he should bow out of true love’s way, but that does not explain why I brought along the hunting knife. Was I subconsciously planning to do harm to the man? I do not know.
However, it is all academic. When I saw the two—my love and that vile man—intertwined upon the bed, I lost all reason. I did what I had to do to save my love. He just got in the way. I knew she loved me, but now that she was sullied by another, she could never have me. So, the most humane thing I could do was to end her life. I did not want her living a life of regret because she had lost my love. And him? As I said, he got in the way. He fought, and he fought hard, to protect my love; however, it did give me great joy to dispatch him to another world.
So you see, my friends, what I did, I did out of love.
They are moving me to the death-watch cell now. Soon I will have my head shaved and the gel placed thereon, for good conductivity you know. Then I’ll get my allotted 50,000 volts. I am happy as I write these words. My true love and I shall be together in a very short while.
I’m just a soul whose intentions were good. Oh Lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood.