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Earth and Mars
By Jeffrey M. Manchur
© 2002 Jeffrey M. Manchur
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Epilogue
Dear Susan,
It’s your dear old brother Ken here, and I’m not dead, not by any means. You might have heard otherwise. But no matter what you hear, just remember that I still love you, wherever I may be.
And so let me fill you in on a few things. I haven’t talked with you since, May I guess. Sorry about that. I guess you saw me once in July while I was ‘out’ but I know you had a busy life back in Ottawa, being a lawyer and all that you couldn’t take any more time after that. When I was back to normal again I still couldn’t call you. I was obsessed in a mission that I had started. For some reason I couldn’t even call you when I was back to work in September, my mission eased. My mission’s completed now, though and so I’m kind of getting back to earth again. Let me tell you about my mission.
Now obviously you know about the murders in my town of Gilbert Plains and how that killer led to me being in a coma. Well, I told the cops I couldn’t remember the killer’s name, but I did, I always did. His name was Weston Smiths and he was a friend of our parent’s friends. I met him twice; once when I had a barbecue at my place and the second time when he shot me. I met him after that, but I only met him twice before I knew he was the killer. I didn’t tell the police the name because what Weston had done to me was so personal that I had to get him for myself. He killed my girls you know, Susan. Even now, I won’t tell anyone his name and hope you’ll do the same.
I chased Weston throughout Canada for a long time. If we ever have more time together, I’ll tell you everything in more detail, but time’s short now. I’m in Minneapolis now, but I’m not gonna tell you where I’m going. It’s not home, I’ll tell you that much. The reason I’m in Minneapolis is because I have just finished signing Weston Smiths into a private psychiatric hospital. He’ll get cured there.
He always talked about his plans. I never knew what his plans were, until just today, you see. He was schizophrenic, a case of two minds. Sometimes he was normal, and other time she thought he was Louis Riel. You know of him of course. You were always the historic one. It wasn’t like he was a real split personality with one side not knowing the actions of the other, but he did think he was two people. I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. Either way, both sides of him were evil and they both killed. But they killed for a reason.
The Riel side killed simply to get some sort of revenge. He killed a racist family in Calgary for that reason. That’s what I guess atleast. He killed a family in Churchill too, his stepmother, her husband and their adopted son. They were his targets because he needed to make a métis sacrifice, to make a replacement for Louis Riel who had died for his people. His stepmother was métis, and supposedly her family went back to Riel, so go figure. What I know for sure is the other side, had plans in mind to which to kill by. When he took me to Calgary and Churchill, in the two places he did kill in those cities he left five rings. One was in rocks, the other drawn on paper. Just recently, in today’s events in Winnipeg, he actually drew it in colour. That was today, God it hasn’t been long has it? Okay, also today he had a drawing of a Christmas tree with lots of decorations and presents. He set it up so that if I defeat him, which I did in a way, then I’d find them. It was the Christmas tree that finally brought me to realise the significance of the rings. They were the Olympic Rings, Susan. And the Olympic rings generally symbolise world unity, all the continents working together on this planet.
And so I took Weston to a psychiatric hospital in Minneapolis. Here because it still could be dangerous for him in Canada, and a psychiatric hospital because he had good intentions. As crazy as that sounds, and as hard as it is to say (and believe me, it’s really hard for me to say) but it’s true. He had wanted the world to work together, and he had tried to kill to do it. I don’t know how he thought it would work but he thought, somehow that it would. I didn’t want to see a potentially good man get wasted by going to jail. He had tried to get help before he started killing, by the way. He saw a psychiatrist, in Winnipeg, and I got the tapes. His sessions there were only through the telephone with his voice disguised. It never helped, as you probably can tell. And so now he’ll get the help he really needs. He’ll be here for a while, until he gets cured and then he’ll be able to pick his life up, somehow. He only deserves to get cured, Susan.
Well, there’s not much left to say, I don’t think. I’ll miss you. Oh, I should explain why I’m not going home, shouldn’t I?
There’s too much evidence against me. I didn’t do anything, don’t worry about that, but I was set up to look like I was. It was set up to look like I was insane, not Weston. And since no one knew about Weston, it’s pretty hard to clear things up now.
Our brother Charles set me up. You know he never got along with us, he even changed his last name so he wouldn’t be reminded of his past growing up with us in Manitoba. This is just an example of how he hated us. He wanted to ruin my life and so when he heard about the murders in Gilbert and how I wasn’t getting anywhere with them, he worked as hard as he could to get on the case, to take it over, to be over me. He never got anywhere on the murders either, Weston was that smooth. I killed him in cold blood. Read the papers Winnipeg newspapers on Wednesday, maybe even your papers in Ottawa for all I know, and you’ll find out how. He meant to torture me by accusing me of being crazy. He wanted to set me up to look like I was the killer. I didn’t mean to kill him, exactly but I did. I’m sorry if it hurt you. But Susan, Charles was the psycho out of all of this. He’s the psycho, not Weston and certainly not me. He’s the psycho.
I’m crying now, Susan. I love you, I’ll always love you. This hurts me, to have to leave you like this, so much unexplained, but you’ll learn about everything soon. You’re a lawyer and a good one if I’m not mistaken, so if it’s not in his will, go to the courts to get Charles’ possessions. If you’re lucky, he’ll have kept a journal or something which will explain everything. I’ve always wanted to get closer to you, but you were a lot like Charles in a way. You’re still single, and you’ve atleast kept the name Slambothi, but you moved away from Manitoba to pursue bigger and better things. Just like he did. That’s okay, but because of that I was never able to really get to know you, the good sibling. I was always the one who wanted to help the nobodies, the one who didn’t want to try and go for a huge fortune by trying bigger and better things. And so I worked in a place no one outside of Dauphin knows called Gilbert Plains, and I protected them and loved them. But I still love you, Susan. I’ll always love you. If we’re lucky, fate will bring us a time to get close again, but until then…
I won’t be hurt much if you hate me. You have a right to feel that way, and to turn me in, and to turn Weston in, but I hope you’ll look deep into your heart and see that you do love me. I know you do. Everything I did with this murder thing was for love, and you’ll do the right thing.
Love will make you.
Love,
Ken Slambothi
December 24th, 2002
The Players
Earth: the realm of mortal existence- Ken Slambothi
Mars: the god of war- Weston Smiths and-?
Started November 29, 2001
Completed May 5, 2002
Author’s Note
Writing this novella has taken me from handwriting the first 18,000 words, to typing those words into the computer, typing it, thinking numerous times about dropping it, but finally finishing it in a frenzy. The writing of this novella has made me very happy, it’s the longest thing I’ve written, and it took me longer then I’m used to, to writing. However, I’m proud of this novella, I’d like everyone to know that. Gilbert Plains is real, I live there. A lot of things I say in this work are true about the town, although the people are different. It’s a bit of a joke, setting it in Gilbert Plains; there is no crime in Gilbert Plains, and so a serial killer-? There’s a sequel coming in the future to this work, and if you look back on this novella you’ll see why (i.e.- how did Weston as you’re supposed to assume be able to slip a picture under the door of the Sheraton’s suite and yet be able to be behind Mercy to strangle her? And what is the picture of the hideous creature?) I hope you’ve enjoyed reading this novella. Thank-you for reading this far.
Jeffrey M. Manchur
© 2002 Jeffrey M. Manchur
