Surreal Story

More Meat Please


“Ma’am, you’re going to have to come with us.”
“What-what did I do?”
“Well explain when we get to the station, please place your hands behind your back. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights?” I shook my head and followed the two policemen to their cruiser. I sat in the car, wondering what in the hell I had done to be arrested, as they drove down the bumpy, road to the station. They pulled in, un-cuffed me and escorted me to a steel, gray interrogation room and told me to take a seat.
“Excuse me officers, I don’t mean to be rude, but what am I doing here?”
“Mrs. Johnson, what were you doing the night of March 2nd? Precisely last night around six o’clock?”
“I believe I was cooking dinner…what does this have to do with-“
“Do you recall what your family had?
“Yes, I do…”
“Could you please describe the meal you prepared for us?”
“Oh I suppose, but I really don’t understand how this is relevant to anything.” I took a deep breath and tried to remember distinctly the night before.
“Ah yes, I recall the we had meat, leg to be exact. I went to the store around noon, picked up some broccoli and carrots, some butter and milk and a nice white leg. I believe after that I walked home and began preparing dinner. It was a treat because no one was in the house so I put on my best apron (a kiss the cook one if you must know) and turned on some music and danced with the broom. Yes I know it’s foolish but it was just so peaceful in that house all by myself.”
“Mrs. Johnson, the dinner if you please.”
“Oh alright, hold your horses, I was getting there. I took the leg and put it on the cutting board near the sink. I took out the Gillet shaving cream and Bic razor and sent nice even strokes over the leg. Don’t you just hate after you prepare a wonderful meal and you take a bite of tender meat and taste burnt hair? I won’t settle for it I tell you. After all the hair was removed, I took the butcher knife and cut the toes off and boiled them in butter. Those are my little Jimmy’s favorite parts so I wanted to make sure they were just perfect. I think I trimmed the toenails after that and delicately drizzled those in butter sauce, that’s Julie’s choice. I put the leg on the grill to let it cook and our house began to smell with the sweet aroma of burning flesh, don’t you just absolutely love the smell?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Yes, that’s what I thought, no one can stay away from that smell. So anyway, like I was saying the leg was on the grill cooking. I set away making peach iced tea to go along with the meal and then began tearing lettuce for my world famous salad. It’s the secret ingredient in the dressing that gets them every time. And no I will not tell you so don’t even ask…I don’t care if I’m under interrogation, your not getting that recipe. So once the meat was done, I cut it up onto four plates and placed it on the table next to the broccoli, carrots and salad. The children came home and we waited for my husband but I didn’t want the food to get cold so we- ”
“Mrs. Johnson, where was your husband yesterday?”
“He was at work, or at least that’s what I thought. He didn’t make it home for dinner last night, so I just assumed he was swamped with work and couldn’t be there.”
“Have you seen your husband since yesterday morning Mrs. Johnson?”
“Actually I haven’t, officers, what’s going on?”
“Mrs. Johnson, we have reason to believe the butcher that has been supplying your grocery store is a corrupt man. He’s not just using prisoners anymore, he’s moved on to…innocent people.” My mouth dropped and my eyes grew wide.
“You’re not telling what I think you are, are you?”
“I believe we are Mrs. Johnson, I’m very sorry for your loss, if there’s anything-“
“Thank you very much.” I politely excused myself from the table, ran to the bathroom, and threw up everything I possibly could to rid myself of the horrible memory that now laid deep within the pit of my stomach.