Pass the Body

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Copyright Oggbashan October 2006

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

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Years ago, a Halloween tradition used to be a party game called 'Pass the Body'.

A group would sit in a circle preferably in the dark or by dim firelight. The narrator would start telling the story about some horrific murder and at stages through the story would pass the 'evidence' around the circle for the group to feel.

It might start with 'This is the hammer that rendered the victim unconscious. Feel the crack on the head that matches the dent in the skull'. It would progress through more and more gruesome objects to 'This is the murderer's hand chopped off by the victim's mother as he reached out to attack her' (a rubber glove stuffed with ice) and 'This is the eye plucked from the victim's head' (a sheep's eye from the butcher) and 'This is the murderer's heart cut out by the avenger' (a pig's heart again from the butcher).

Feeling these grisly objects set the evening going for an exchange of ghost and horror stories. However this traditional game had almost been forgotten locally when we arrived at Alison's house for her Halloween Party. We stood around in the dining room with garishly coloured drinks as the others arrived. When all were present Alison announced that we would start with a game of 'Pass the Body' in the living room.

Most of us knew what was coming even if we hadn't participated for years. Those who didn't know were given whispered explanations as we moved through into the living room. Each chair was labelled with a guest's name. Alison stood beside a tall screen at one end of a U-shaped arrangement of chairs and settees.

"Elaine, could you sit at this end, collect all the objects and pile them up beside you."

"Of course, Alison."

Elaine is Alison best friend and has been since they started school as infants.

"Where's Josh?" someone asked.

"He'll be here later," Alison replied. "He has an important part in this evening's entertainment. Are we ready?"

There were nods of agreement.

"Then turn off the lights and I'll begin. This time the story will be far more personal than these games usually are. Josh and I thought it would add something..."

There was a faint glow behind the screen, just enough for Alison to see what items she was picking up, but placed close to the screen so that we couldn't even see the silhouettes.

"As you all know, Josh and I have been married, happily married, for over ten years with very few disagreements between us. Such disputes as there were seemed minor and easily sorted. Then, one day when I was unpacking Josh's suitcase after he had returned from a conference I found a pair of ladies silk knickers tucked deep into the bottom of a pocket. These knickers."

Alison passed the knickers to the first person, who felt them in the dark, then passed them around to reach Elaine. Elaine put the knickers down beside her.

"They weren't MY knickers," Alison said, "so I wondered what sort of conference Josh had been attending. I made some discreet enquiries. The conference was genuine. He had been there. He hadn't been seen with any woman and in fact he had been so busy that he wouldn't have had time for anything not related to work. The Vice-President of Josh's company had used him as a gofer all week. So whose knickers were they and how had they got into Josh's case?

"I was puzzled. I trusted Josh. A loose pair of knickers wasn't going to damage my marriage. He might have bought them for me and forgotten to give them – except that they were two sizes too large and obviously not new. I tried to push those knickers to the back of my mind but they wouldn't stay there. I watched and waited.

"I found some hairs on his suit. Long blonde hairs. I can't pass them round. They were too fine to feel. I thought I recognised those hairs. Days later I managed to pick one off the lady's jacket. It matched. It still didn't fit. She was here when Josh was at the conference. The knickers wouldn't fit her either. Mine would. Hers would fit me. Were there two women Josh was involved with?

"As I was moving Josh's overcoat in the hall cupboard I detected a perfume that wasn't mine. I lifted the coat to my nose. I could recognise the perfume. Here it is."

Alison passed a piece of cloth. We sniffed it. We could recognise the perfume too. It was heavy and exotic, too exotic for use at work. The impression was a perfume to be worn for a grand occasion.

"Do you recognise it? Not the manufacturer or the name but as a perfume that someone you know would or does wear? No? I thought not. It's not our sort of thing. It is too dramatic and obviously femme fatale and none of us are that, are we? We are all suburban housewives and their husbands, not Ingrid Bergmans. It certainly doesn't fit with the long blonde hair, nor with the large silk knickers. So what was I dealing with? Three women?"

Alison's voice rose on the last two words. There was a touch of hysteria in it.

"That was the situation a few weeks ago. I had confusing indications that Josh might be playing around with up to three women, maybe more. Perhaps none of you knew that we enjoyed a little mutual bondage to liven up our lovemaking? It doesn't matter whether you knew or not. The next time it was my turn to tie Josh up I tied him really securely. Why? Because he had made a bad mistake. The previous time he had made love to me, at the climax he had called me a different name. Not a different pet name, but a different woman's name. I had noticed his slip and said nothing, nothing at all, until the time I had him totally helpless.

Then I asked, quietly and ever-so-patiently, what that woman meant to him. He replied that she was just a friend. I told him that I didn't believe him. He protested until I stuffed those large silk knickers into his mouth and tied them there with a scarf saturated in that perfume. He was still protesting when I snipped his little finger off with a pair of tinsnips. Here is that finger."

Alison passed a small Tupperware container around. In it was something about the length of a small sausage but with harder parts in it.

"I bandaged where his little finger had been and then asked again. What did that woman mean to him and why had he said her name when making love to me? I told him I would ungag him if he wanted to answer. He shook his head. He wouldn't answer. I went to the kitchen and returned with an ice-cream scoop. It is ideal for removing eyes, if you ever want to remove eyes. I did. Both of them. Here they are."

She passed another Tupperware container with two objects rolling squelchily around at the bottom. Most of us wouldn't touch them.

"I asked about the blonde hairs. Were they hers? I named the woman. He confirmed by nodding blindly. Had he made love to her? He shook his head. I used the tinsnips to cut off his ears and nose. Here you are..."

Some of us felt that the story was getting too realistic. The objects felt exactly like Alison's descriptions.

"The knickers? I asked about the knickers. Only one person I know wears knickers of that size, and wears them with an air. She is eminently feminine, rounded, motherly and devastatingly sexy. You all know who I mean but Josh wouldn't confirm so the tinsnips cut off his manhood. It doesn't seem very much just sitting in a plastic container but I had enjoyed it many times and had been very satisfied with it's owner's performance. Never again."

Alison sighed. The container seemed to hold a penis.

"Now we are close to the end of our little game. No more articles for you to guess whether I'm lying as I pass scraps from the butcher or to fear that I'm telling the truth. The explanation is in this envelope I give to Elaine. She should open it when the lights go on."

Alison stepped back behind the screen. There was a flash and a bang. Someone leapt for the light switch. Alison had put a shotgun in her mouth and pulled the trigger.

"Elaine!" someone shouted. "What's in the envelope?"

Elaine opened it carefully. There was a short note.

"Josh finally told me that the knickers, the hairs and the perfume were a boys' room joke from his colleagues at work. They did that sort of thing to each other. The name he had said while making love? That was his only sin. He had always fancied you, Elaine, and once, just once his imagination ran away with him. Now both of us are dead for a sick joke and an unfulfilled love. Alison."