Love & Corruption (Short Story) Part 2

Silly,Mark screamed again and I jumped. I heard something heavy drop on what mustve been the gun being thrown on the living room table. Josie, that guy is cutting funds for culture and education so often that we soon will not have no money to educate our young with. We wont be able to keep all the departments running. Damn hypocrite. Mark rushed out on the balcony and I felt a stinging pain in my side as he stood beside me. His anger scared me. His intensity became too overpowering for me. He stamped his foot on the balcony floor; he banged his fist on the railing, frothed at the mouth and breathed heavily. I took one long look at him, examining his ill will and suddenly I had the sensation of looking at a lunatic. I couldnt take him seriously. One thought crossed my mind and I glanced back at that Colt .45 lying on the dark brown table. Without further ado, I rushed into the living room and away from the balcony, setting my half full coffee cup down on the table in the process. I didnt wait. I picked up that heavy and really dangerous thing; let it rest in my hand, very much realizing that this weapon was the cause of so much ill will and so many calamities. The click was subtle and as I checked the gun for bullets I saw there were none there. Not one single bullet in that damn thing. Mark still stood out there and probably knew that I was checking that weapon. He still stomped his foot, bashed his fist, frothed and breathed heavily. I know, Josie. No bullets. No damn bullets. The bullets are in the safe in my office. I have never used them. I wont, either. I'll sell the darned thing. Im just a chicken, a yellow-belly that has no other agenda than blowing his fuses. Damn it, I am just a loud maniac with no guts. The gun lay cold and senseless in my grasp, such a neutral object the cause of so much pain. I lay it back on the table, walking out in my slippers and my bathrobe onto the balcony again. I exhaled, my breath coming out in spurts. He had called himself a coward. I couldnt believe it, but that was good news. Very good news. Mark had now stopped stomping, bashing and frothing. A sad and resigned posture came over him as he shuffled over to the balcony table and sat down. I remained standing where I stood, looking at him and from time to time glancing over my shoulder at the gun that lay there on the living room table. To me, at the time at least, it seemed poignant that the gun lay there on the table unloaded and that he had been waving it about like crazy a moment ago. I remembered myself reaching for the kitchen knife and stabbing it around like crazy in the empty and lonely and hot air after a horribly bad business meeting. I sighed, looking at the man I had married out of love. How I had admired him and still admired him. His wit, his brains, his spirit was an inspiration. How difficult he also could be. Why are you so intense, Mark? I took his hand, caressed it, lift it and kissed it. He looked at his own hand with the remainder of my damp kiss. I left my hand lying on his lap as he withdrew his hand in irritation. I dont know. Maybe I am just a dumbass.? I shook my head, laughing cynically to myself more than to him. No, just intense. Mark looked out onto the forest that lay close to our apartment. His eyes searched the skies for clouds. I could see that he desperately wanted to understand what was happening and why he reacted this way. I wish I hadnt opened my mailbox. You found the mail from the university in the internet just now? He nodded. I was so angry I felt like killing someone. I caressed him again. That wouldnt solve anything. That would certainly eliminate the bad guys. And turn you into one.? How so? Every revolution in history has ended in a crisis. Mark looked up at me, baffled, still slumped over like a monkey in his depression. Whats revolution got to do with this? Our eyes met. It was an intense gaze, a familiar gaze that astounded me. Rather quaint, rather honest, rather open, rather hopeful, rather expectant. Everything. I paused, waiting. Then I spoke, knowing I had to because he wouldnt. You wanted to kill the mayor just like the peasants of Paris wanted to kill Marie Antoinette in 1789. But ten years later, Napoleon came and crowned himself emperor and turned back the clock. It was as if nothing had happened and thousands of people had died for that nothing. The same thing happened in ancient Rome. They killed Julius Caesar because he wanted to make himself a dictator. What happened? Mark looked at me with that open gaze of his. No anger there anymore, he was obviously keen on calming down. His death eventually gave birth to the empire Rome. So the opposite of what they wanted came true. Just like in France. Revolutions are pointless. Mark looked out into the morning sunrise. That happened in the Soviet Union, as well. I never thought of that. I laughed. It surprises me, you being a historian and all. I mean, the Russian Tsar Regime tumbled by the communist hands because they hated the absolutism. But come on, what happened made it worse. Communism turned into a worse dictatorship than anything the Tsars ever could have come up with. KGB, Illuminati, Bilderberg, Skull and Bones, Mark said. We have to fight oppression and corruption somehow. I shrugged, closing my eyes in a kind of soft and resigning gesture. We have to find other ways to raise awareness. I dont know how long we sat there watching the sunrise, but I really felt like we were experiencing the peaceful rest after a storm. At least until Marks cellular phone started making noises. A series of small bleeps emerged and I was left there on the balcony hoping that he wouldnt take the gun in his hand and go into the office in order to get the bullets. I prayed, oh, how I prayed for his safe return without the gun. My heart pumped my blood quicker and quicker around my veins. I saw myself divorcing my husband because of irreconcilable differences. In actual fact, I would be saving myself from having to deal with his anger, even if it was just rage that was directed at others. But Mark returned happily to the balcony, not with the gun but with his Samsung Smartphone. That made me laugh. My husband came back not with a gun, but with a phone. He was smiling from ear to ear.