Saturday Special: The Safe Word Is Red by Cheryl Clarke

(Our editor recently ran a series of writing workshops, and the participants were such excellent writers that we've decided to do a Saturday Special for them, as their final products exceeded our usual word count. We hope you enjoy these longer stories as much as we do!)

THE SAFE WORD IS RED

Becca's hands trembled as she reached for her phone. She had never done anything like this before.  The docile wife, the patient mother, the dutiful employee.  Yet here she was, about to initiate a text that could alter the course of her life.  She paused for a brief moment, teetering between fear and hesitation and the thrill of it all pushing her to do something so very out of character.

“What's the room number?" Becca typed quickly, feeling her adrenaline spike.  She hit send and waited, placing her phone in its usual face down position.  Seconds later, she heard the notification that would change everything forever.  She lifted her phone and read the response, her excitement bubbling like a schoolgirl with a secret crush. 

"Room 114. Can't wait x."  

_______________________________________

The dismal morning clouds had disappeared and the sun now shone brilliantly through the windows of Jack and Becca's back room.  The cat slept lazily in the giant pocket of warmth on the floor. The toys were put away, the kids were napping and the house was blissfully quiet.  This had become a somewhat typical Sunday afternoon for them-Becca at the gym with her workout buddies and Jack at home with the kids.

Lately, Jack’s wife had been spending extra hours at the gym.  It didn't bother him-he loved her sculpted body. The downside was that it meant even more time away from him and the kids.  Becca had recently made a career change and it was rather demanding time-wise.  When she pitched Jack the idea of becoming a hospital social worker, he was initially reluctant to agree.  As a paramedic, he knew the challenges that came with shift work and that type of job. He wasn't sure Becca could handle it. Apart from the erratic schedule, she lacked the ability to steel herself the way Jack could.  He didn't think she would be able to compartmentalise the potentially graphic and disturbing elements that often came with this line of work.  And his wife needed to sleep more than anyone he knew.  It would be a struggle for her to survive a 12-hour shift without a nap or two.

But never one to withhold his support, Jack rallied behind his wife so that, at the age of 39, she could transition from being an Outreach Assistant with steady 9-to-5 hours to a hospital social worker with unpredictable, far-from-9-to-5 hours. They tacked the tuition fees and any additional expenses onto their ever growing line of credit and hoped that Becca's pay increase would offset some of the costs down the road. Jack essentially became a single Dad while Becca attended her courses and training.  With two young boys under the age of 4, it was a lot for him. Somehow he made it through that year and a half. Once she'd completed her courses and started her posting, they adjusted their work schedules to accommodate child care schedules. They tag teamed parental duties in an effort to make things work for Becca's new career.  It was tiring and demanding, and all out overwhelming some days, but they never fought or disagreed about any of it. They had flipped numbingly into survival mode without even realizing it.

So today, after three long night shifts in a row, Jack was really aiming for a nap himself.  However, the pile of yard work interrupted any thoughts of even a 20 minute snooze. He grabbed the baby monitor and headed outside. 

He quickly mowed their tiny lawn and finished a light raking.  On his way back toward the house from the backyard, Jack saw Becca's SUV was in the driveway. 

"That's weird. She didn't come tell me she was home," Jack thought, then shrugged it off, assuming she was just in a rush to shower after the gym. Walking up the driveway to return the lawnmower to the garage, he noticed how dirty Becca's truck was, likely from the backroads she took on her way to work. A brief glance at the monitor showed the boys were still sound asleep.  As a kind gesture for his busy wife, Jack decided to give Becca's truck a quick wash. He grabbed the hose and a bucket of supplies, cleaning it until the dirt was a distant memory.

Becca was notorious for leaving random crap laying around in her car, something that drove a consistently tidy Jack crazy.  He opened the driver's side door and began collecting bits of trash.  As he grabbed a discarded chocolate bar wrapper on the floor mat, he noticed a loose cable hanging down from the dashboard.  Jack followed the cable upwards to the dash cam that he had installed in her car for safety reasons, and saw that the camera was unplugged.  It struck him as very odd, since he knew that Becca appreciated the camera, having narrowly escaped an accident a few months prior.  He plugged the cord back into the unit and made a mental note to ask her about it later.  

Jack checked the monitor again to see two peacefully sleeping toddlers. He was definitely taking advantage of their longer nap time today. Figuring Becca would be out of the shower by now, he finished up in the garage, decidedly done with his chores and hopeful to sneak in a bit of time with his wife before the kids woke up.

Becca was sitting at their kitchen island eating some yogurt.  Jack walked in and leaned over to give her a kiss, marveling at how great she looked fresh out of the shower.  Although she was somewhat plain in her looks, Jack only saw Becca as stunningly beautiful.  She had dark brown hair, with large oval eyes and a smile that showed off the whitest, straightest teeth he'd ever seen. Jack always thought she looked like she belonged in a toothpaste commercial. He also loved how physically fit she was. She went to boot camps, took weight and aerobic classes and had just added pilates to her fitness routine.  He truly thought his wife was gorgeous and perfect for him in every way.

Jack was an average-looking guy himself, with dirty blonde hair in a military-style, #2blade brush cut. He was always clean shaven, hating any speck of stubble on his face.  His physique was tall and lean, yet still strong.  Jack's paramedic job required a certain amount of physicality and although his workouts were usually brief due to time constraints, he did try and hit the weights whenever he could.  

“How was the gym?” he inquired as he washed his hands.  

Becca swallowed her mouthful of yogurt and shrugged.  

“Meh, it was okay.  Harder than usual today. I'm tired,” she commented curtly, scraping the remnants from the container.

“Ah well, you can crush it another day,” Jack encouraged.  “Oh by the way, I cleaned your truck. I noticed your dash cam was unplugged, so I plugged it back in.”

Becca flushed a bit and stammered.  

“Oh…uh, I must have caught my foot on it getting in and out of the car.  Thanks for fixing it.”  She got up quickly from her seat, tossed the yogurt container in the recycling and promptly left the room, leaving Jack slightly confused at her abruptness.

“You good, babe?” he called after her.  

“Yeah, I’m just gonna lay down for a few minutes before the kids wake up,” she called back, closing their bedroom door behind her.

__________________________________________

The thick file landed loudly on her desk, jolting Becca out of a daze.  She glanced up to see her team leader, Shane, smiling his usual goofy but adorable smile.  Her face lit up and she perked instantly.  Why was it that every time she saw Shane lately, she got butterflies in her stomach?  No matter how hard she tried to ignore them, they inevitably returned whenever he was near her. 

“Your next case file for the morning,” he informed her, referring to the paperwork he'd dropped on her desk. 

“I've reviewed it and it's a bit of a doozy.  I’m thinking we should tackle this one together, if you're ok with that?”

Becca's heart leapt into her throat, but she kept her cool in front of Shane.  

“It's that bad, eh?  Well then, I think I'll appreciate you coming along.  There's still so much I need to get the hang of.  As you well know, each case is different and challenging in its own way.” 

She had really come to value Shane's insights and experience on the job.  It was a steep learning curve and he'd taken her under his wing the minute she started.  She recognized that they'd grown closer than perhaps two co-workers, specifically a superior and his staff member, probably should.

They made their way to the elevator, heading up to the eighth floor of the hospital.  This was the most dreaded floor for any social worker.  Dubbed ‘The Bin’ by the more senior staff, it housed the hospital's most psychologically challenged patients.  Becca was relieved Shane would be by her side for this case.

The elevator arrived and was almost at capacity.  They squeezed their way inside, packed like sardines in a tin. Becca was suddenly hyper-aware of her proximity to Shane, so close to him that her left breast was touching his well defined, right tricep.  She tried to pace her breathing, reminding herself where they were and who he was.  Finally, the bell chimed to notify their arrival on the eighth floor.  They shuffled off the elevator, almost exaggerating the space between them now.

Shane cleared his throat awkwardly.  “Wow, that elevator was packed!” 

Becca could hardly speak, shaken by the intensity of the experience.  She managed a soft, barely audible, “mhmm” but she wasn't sure Shane heard her respond at all. 

For the rest of the day, Becca's mind kept drifting to thoughts of Shane. It was as if all of a sudden, she was seeing this man in a different light.  A bright, warm light that she was drawn to, like a moth to a flame.  But it was more than that.  She had felt an electricity between them in that elevator, a palpable physical attraction, something she hadn't felt with Jack for a long time.  She reminded herself that she was a married woman and that Shane was her superior.  Nothing could come of this and she needed to shake these ridiculous, lustful daydreams.

As her shift drew to a close, she returned to her office to jot down a few notes and tie up the loose ends of the day.  When she arrived, she noticed her favourite chocolate bar sitting on her desk, with a note tucked underneath that read: “Today was a tough one, but you did great!  Proud of you, Shane :)” 

Becca paused for a moment, her eyes lingering on the smiley face next to his name.

She was moved by this small but thoughtful gesture.  It was so refreshing how Shane just seemed to get her, to understand her without her even having to say anything. It was becoming obvious to her that there was a connection between them, one that seemed to be slowly drifting beyond the boundaries of work. They had developed a mutual respect for each other, but there was more to it than that. So much more. 

Becca didn’t want to acknowledge the feelings growing inside her, but she couldn’t seem to ignore them either. She stuffed the chocolate bar into her mouth and smiled, savoring its sweetness.

_________________________________________

Jack's snoring was driving her crazy.  It was like a foghorn, impossible to ignore and sure to wake anyone within a 10 foot radius.  Becca rolled over, fluffed her pillow and sighed loudly out of frustration, hoping it would rouse her husband out of his deep, unshakable slumber.  

As she lay there, now wide awake, growing more and more irritated with Jack, Becca let her mind wander to thoughts of Shane.  His boyish smile, the way his hair was always perfectly in place, the way it made her feel when he looked at her.  She didn't feel that way when Jack looked at her.  She didn't feel much of anything except annoyance whenever Jack looked at her lately. 

Becca was now keenly aware that her bond with Shane was deepening. She had attempted to downplay it in her mind, but when he'd left her another note at work yesterday, this time signing it with an ‘x’ after his name, it validated her thoughts.  She read the note over and over, smiling harder with each read.  “Another great day.  The patients respond well to you.  So do I.  See you tomorrow, Shane…x”  

Becca finally drifted back to sleep, with thoughts of Shane permeating her dreams.

___________________________________________

“She's just not been herself,” Jack lamented as they took their beers to their table.  He needed a bit of time away from Becca and the kids, so he called his brother to meet him at a local watering hole.  Jack knew something was off with his wife lately and he wanted to talk to someone about it. Rob had always been a great listener and he was Jack's go-to for most advice. 

“What do you mean?”  Rob asked, settling into a corner booth of the noisy pub.  

“Becca has just been so distant with me and the kids lately.  It’s like she's off in another world, daydreaming or something,” Jack answered, frustration evident in his voice.  He took a long swig of his beer.

“Well, maybe she's just stressed at work,” offered Rob, removing his ball cap and scratching his head.

"No, she really likes her job. In fact, she's been picking up extra shifts whenever she can. I don't think work is the problem. There's more going on," he sighed, taking another large gulp of his drink.

“Like what exactly?” Rob pressed, his curiosity now piqued. Jack stalled. He wasn't sure how much of this he wanted to share with his brother, nervous that speaking the words out loud would validate his growing concerns.

“Well,” he started, “her phone is now locked with a passcode and it's always face down. So that's new.”

“Hmmm, I see,” Rob commented cautiously, not wanting to jump to any conclusions.

Jack continued. “And I found something…” He cleared his throat and looked down, picking the skin nervously from the edges of his fingernails. “I was cleaning the office the other day and on the floor, behind the garbage can, there was a receipt.” Jack glanced up at his brother, his face awash with worry. "It was for a restaurant out of town. At first, I didn’t think much of it, but then I started wondering why she wouldn’t have mentioned it if she was meeting friends out of town. So, I looked it up online—it’s fancy as fuck and definitely not a place we've ever been together. I checked the date on the receipt against her work schedule, and it was for a night she was supposed to be working overtime. It just doesn’t make sense. Why would she have this receipt, and why would she have gone to that restaurant? I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure it out." 

He looked at his brother, hoping for some plausible explanation. This time, Rob didn’t have one.

_____________________________________________

When their lips touched, Becca's entire body ignited.  It had been building for some time now-the notes, the glances, the not-so-discreet brushes against each other as they passed in the hall.  It was only a matter of time before it became physical. Their chemistry was off the charts, and the connection was there on every level.  And now, finally, here they were in a hotel room, their naked bodies entwined, oblivious to everything else.  

For her own peace of mind--and to quiet the nagging guilt over her betrayal--Becca reminded herself that it wasn’t supposed to be like this. She had fought the feelings for as long as she could, but as the weeks and months passed, she could no longer deny that she was falling for Shane. She was a married woman, with two kids for Christ’s sake, yet none of that seemed to matter—she was consumed by him. By them. Her every thought revolved around Shane and the future they were planning. It wasn’t just lust for either of them; they had fallen deeply in love. 

The plan to leave Jack was in motion; Becca just needed to save enough money to break free from him financially. She had picked up overtime for the extra cash, though some of that time was spent with Shane during their secret meetups as their relationship progressed-dinner at an upscale restaurant, a few coffee dates and a midnight make-out session in her truck.  She was always careful to unplug the dashcam before each rendezvous to cover her tracks.

Becca knew leaving Jack would be hard… and the kids. God, the kids. It would devastate them. But they were young and resilient, she convinced herself—they’d be fine. And Shane was excited to be part of their lives. As for Jack, he'd get over it with time. Sometimes she wondered if he even loved her. He was so focused on the kids, and quite frankly, he didn't give her the attention she felt she was entitled to as his wife.  The realization of how dissatisfied she'd been with her marriage over the past few years was sobering.  So many attempts to band-aid her unhappiness.  The change in career, the fitness obsession, her recent consultation for plastic surgery and now the affair.  Some people might call it classic midlife crisis shit. Whatever it was, it no longer mattered.  Becca knew what would fill the void in her life, and she was going to get it, regardless of the cost.  After tonight, she would tell Jack everything-no more sneaking around, no more lies, no more deception.  She would come clean and finally be free to start her new life.

__________________________________________

The call came across the radio from dispatch:  ‘Unit 21, Unit 21, priority response needed. We have a 10-50, serious MVA, location on Highway 42 near Exit 7. Two vehicles involved, possible entrapment. Respond code 3.’

Jack called to his partner, who was restocking supplies in the back of the ambulance.  “Get up here, let's go! We've got a 10-50 on Highway 42!” 

The adrenaline rush never got old for Jack, no matter how many calls he'd been to.  He knew how to drive the ambulance, deftly navigating through throngs of rush hour traffic to make good time.  He prided himself on almost always being first at the scene.  Today would be no different.

As they rounded the corner to approach Exit 7, they could already see smoke coming from the crash site.  Jack wasn't sure what they'd be walking into.  He pulled up, put the truck in park, grabbed his bag and began to mentally assess the scene.  

‘Small car in the middle lane, smoke coming from the hood.  Front end torn off, glass everywhere.  Driver still in the vehicle.’

He continued to scan the area; there had to be another car somewhere, this didn't add up. As he moved toward the first car, he could see that just beyond it, there was an SUV in the ditch.  

‘Black SUV, looks like it could have rolled several times.  No visible driver from this angle.’ 

  Jack determined that the rolled truck would be the more dire of the two situations and ran in that direction, hoping to find the driver.  As he got closer, he stopped dead in his tracks. For a moment, time stood painfully still.  His heart sank to his stomach as he recognized the wreckage before him.  It was Becca's SUV.  Jack bolted down the ravine to get to the vehicle and began frantically trying to pry the door open.  He could see his wife now, slumped in the broken and reclined driver's seat, her hair matted with blood from a gaping wound on her forehead.  The airbag had deployed, crushing her tiny frame into the seat.  Broken glass surrounded her unconscious body.  

“Fuck...fuck, FUCK! BECCA!” Jack yelled, trying not to panic.  He gathered his thoughts, staying focused on his training and attempting to detach himself emotionally from the situation. He had to get the door open to get to Becca. The frame was badly bent and crushed, making it nearly impossible to get any leverage. Jack steadied his foot on the side of the truck and pulled with all the strength that he could summon.  The door flew open, knocking him backward for a moment.  He scrambled to his feet, determined to save his wife but somehow already knowing deep down that his efforts were futile. 

Jack didn’t bother to check for vitals but went straight to clearing her airway for CPR instead. The space was too tight; he couldn’t find the right angle to begin compressions.  Reaching into his pants pocket, he fumbled for his shears. Jack quickly cut away both the airbag and Becca's seatbelt, exposing the rest of his wife's wounded body and giving him more room to work. He ripped open her shirt, found her sternum and began compressions. “1, 2, 3, 4, 5…” Jack counted out loud, his voice breaking with each push on her chest. The seconds dragged on like hours until, at last, he stopped-his hands shaking, the cruel reality beginning to sink in.  Tears welled up in his eyes as he stared at his wife, lying lifeless before him. Through his blurred vision, he noticed that resting in Becca's cold, limp hand, was her cell phone, the screen cracked but still glowing faintly.

“Fuck sake, Becca,” Jack choked, speaking as if his wife could hear him. “Were you texting and driving?”

Angrily, he snatched the phone from her hand, a morbid curiosity compelling him to see what was so urgent that would have caused his wife to risk everything. Jack stared at the damaged device and began reading the texts which were still visible on the screen…

Shane: Did you tell him yet?

Becca: No, I haven’t had a chance. I’ll wait until after this weekend since he’s working.

Shane: Fair. Are we still on for tonight?

Becca: Yes. I can’t wait.

Shane: Are you sure you’re okay with trying this?

Becca: Hell yes. I know the rules. Don’t forget, THE SAFE WORD IS RED.

Shane: That’s my girl. See you tonight…

END