part 7

Subject: What gives?

To: BoPeep

From: MackAttack

Date: 9/18  9:55p.m.

Where the HELL were you? You did it to me again. I feel like Charlie Brown to your Lucy. Two things come to mind – you are getting me back, and are a total bitch, or something horrible happened to you. Which is it?


Subject: Can you EVER forgive me. I’m so sorry

To: MackAttack

From: BoPeep

Date: 9/20  11:32p.m.

Dear Mack,

Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I was all ready to go out the door and meet you, when Davey showed up. He didn’t call or anything. He insisted that I deal with him. I called Bozo’s Deli and they said that you didn’t answer the page, but I could hear that it was really noisy in there. I really did Mack. I swear to god.

Davey just showed up, when I was leaving.  He was really pushy.  He said he had nowhere else to go. When I tried to tell him I had a date, he started crying. He said his mother had died, and he had spent the night in jail. He kept asking me why everyone hated him. Why I hated him. He was distraught. I couldn’t just leave him that way (a grown man crying is a terrible sight).

I decided that he could be the third wheel. Not ideal, but heck, it was better than leaving him alone in my house. So, we were going to come meet you. I didn’t know what else to do. I figured you’d understand. Maybe we could cheer him up, or lose him in the crowed. He said “OK” but needed to shower and shave. So, he went to take a shower, and I started trying to get hold of you. Then my neighbor was pounding on the door. Her ceiling was leaking. There was water coming from under the bathroom door and the rug was getting really wet! Davey was asleep in an overflowing tub and the water was still on. Niagra falls. I screamed. It woke him up. He was just like a little baby with dreamy little eyes and smiled. In his stupid babytalk he mumbled “what’s wrong babe?” He sure didn’t move too fast, considering the emergency. I grabbed all my clean towels to sop up the water. He just grinned at me!

I ran the wet towels to the laundry room, threw them in the dryer, ran back, and used all my dirty laundry, and anything else I could soak  the rest of the water up. I even used my bathrobe. There was so much water! It was good it was a Saturday night and everyone in the building was out. I used all the washers and dryers. It was horrible.

Even then, though, I thought, that maybe, I could still rush and meet you. I mean, I was only about 45 minutes late. I was really trying. At about 9pm I came into my bedroom, and found that Davey asleep ON my bed! Not in it, mind you, but laying sprawled out across the top of it naked and wet. The bathroom was a huge mess, big dirty hand prints everywhere and there was still a lot of water. So, I used up all my paper towels. I knew then it was too late. That you would have already given up on me. I felt horrible.

So, I spent the rest of the night scrubbing the bathroom walls, took his filthy, smelly clothes down and washed and dried those. I must have done about a dozen loads of laundry. It was almost midnight. The worst part of it was that my really cute dress was ruined. (It’s dry clean only). My makeup was all messed. Cinderella without going to the ball.

This is the worst part. When I finished cleaning up…I looked at him on the bed. He was filthy, and wet when he flopped down, and there were big dark brown marks all over my white chenille bedspread. It was like that Cat in the Hat book, where the mess just gets bigger and bigger and bigger. (Where were little cats A, B, and C?) He had thrown his muddy boots on my heirloom quilt (My dad’s grandmother had made it).

When everything all cleaned up, he woke up. The nerve of this guy, you know?

He was hungry. He wanted to know if I could cook him dinner. I just flipped. I mean, I stood you up. I had this huge mess, and tons of laundry and my whole night was ruined. My dress was ruined. I screamed at him. I told him to get out. He got in my face and I shoved him. He pushed me against the wall, hard. I mean, it was so hard my head snapped back and hit the wall. He pinned me there with his hands on my shoulders and his face right up close and he shouted at me. He told me to never talk to him like that again. It shook me up. I mean, it was a threat. I felt all the blood in my body run cold. Then he slapped me.

You know me. I burst into tears. I was so afraid, and upset. I should have been mad. I should have called the cops right then and there. But I just got like I do. Wimped out.

Then he really surprised me. He sat down at the table and he started to cry. He was sobbing. He kept saying over-and-over how sorry he was. He was just under a lot of stress and I was making it worse. I felt just awful. I mean, here this guy just got out of jail for something he didn’t do, and in a bad situation and his mom just died, and couldn’t even get to his stuff. He was stressed out. And, there I was yelling at him. I felt bad about it. So, I made him some rice and cheese dish (that’s all I really had in the house) and we ate it.

He did finally take a shower (like he was supposed to do the first time). I was so tired. (I made a bed for him on the couch.) But, he came into my room acting all sexy and coming on to me after. Every time I tried to say No, he’d get more insistent.

I was NOT in the mood.

We did it anyway.

The next day he wouldn’t let me get out of bed. It didn’t matter if I was in the mood or not, you know. He just did what he wanted, pretty much. It made me fell dirty and ugly. (I can’t believe I’m telling you this.) He’d go from being really funny and chatty to crazy and accusing. He would just flip emotions like my Mom flips the television channels. It was freaky. I don’t think I’m afraid of him, but confused.

Anyway, really early in the morning I heard him moving around the apartment. I pretended I was asleep. I did peek once, and saw he was dressed. He left me this weird note. It’s like poetry, but it doesn’t make much sense. One thing really odd is the line “I’m the stain you can’t wash out.” It seems really crazy.

I feel really confused, and my stomach is in knots. Maybe it’s because I really love him? That’s what he kept saying. I don’t know. It’s all so confusing. I’m so sorry that I didn’t just close the door and go out and meet you.

I haven’t heard from him, today.

He did leave some stuff here, so I think he intends to come back. I don’t know where he went, or anything about him, really. He said things that were conflicting. It’s all like a jumbled dream. Geez, Mack, it was so weird. I never expected in a million years something like this would happen. I’m sorry that I stood you up. Please, please, please forgive me.

Can we turn back the clock and do it all again?




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