Whackadoodle Times Galore

THREE-2

I finished every bit of it.

I wanted to lick the bowl.

“Is that your one great thing for today?” I asked, pushing the bowl away from me.

“I don’t know,” she said. “That’s up to you.”

I squinted as I looked at her. “This isn’t like The Cook is it?”

“I don’t know that movie,” she said.

“It’s a book,” I said. “In it a cook comes to work for this very f****d up family. He makes the most amazing meals that satisfy each and every family member. They feel so obligated to him and so dependent upon him that soon they are all waiting on him and he’s the boss of everything.”

Eartha laughed. “I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone as suspicious as you, although the suspicion seems to come and go.”

“Look, I’ve got to leave now,” I said. “I can drop you off in the village and then pick you up when I’m done.”

I didn’t know what else to do. I wasn’t stupid enough to leave a complete stranger in my house all afternoon. I’d have to cut my time with Mark short, but that was the way it was.

“Sure,” Eartha said. “Be nice to check out the village. Go to the library.”

“Don’t count on the library,” I said. “It’s barely open nowadays. None of them are. But you can buy liquor and semi-automatics 24/7. Gotta love California.”

I brushed my teeth. By the time I came downstairs again, Eartha had tidied up the kitchen. She smiled at me and followed me outside. She seemed a bit subdued today. Yesterday I thought we had let a latter-day wild child into our midst. Today she seemed to have slipped easily into the role of a domestic.

What kind of game was she playing?

We got into my little maroon sports car. (I’m not telling you what kind of car. I don’t intend to advertise for anyone or anything. This is my life. It ain’t sponsored by nothing or nobody.) I put the top down, and we drove slowly down the winding road. Eartha stared up at the sky and the tall trees and bushes on either side of the road.

Today I smelled no smoke, and the winds seemed to have quieted down.

“You must love living here,” Eartha said. “It’s quite beautiful. You can feel like you’re in nature out here even though you’re in a community. Some beautiful trees and flowers.”

I kept my eyes on the road. There was always some asshole driving these curves too fast. And half the people coming up this canyon road were all liquored up.

“I don’t notice the fauna and flora,” I said. “I don’t leave my yard much, except to go to the studio. There are some trails down by my art studio, but I don’t use them.”

“Really?” Earth said. “I would imagine the three of you go out hiking all the time.”

“Imagine all you want,” I said, “but we don’t get out much. Hayword is always working. David’s always on the computer or some gadget and I’m always—”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her looking at me.

“You’re always what?” she asked.

“Nothing,” I said. “I’m always doing nothing.” Drinking a little. Watching television. Making dates. Planning benefits. Only I didn’t do that much planning. I did show up though. Always in the sexiest dress. I had that reputation. I liked having that reputation. Since I was from the Midwest, they thought I’d be all nice and full of cornball humor without any fashion taste. I liked to prove them all wrong.

Not that I had any fashion taste. I could give a s**t. Really. I would wear my sweats all day long if I could. If I never had to see any people, that was probably what I would do. Although David and Hayword got a little concerned if I walked around in my pajamas for too many days in a row.

Not that I did that often. Probably once or twice a year. Went to a therapist for it once, when Hayword said he couldn’t stand watching me drink and drug my life away (like I couldn’t stand to watch him w***e his life away as a Hollywood dickwad). The therapist concluded I got depressed twice a year on Alberto’s birth date and death date. She said this to me as if it were a great revelation.

“No f*****g s**t, Sherlock,” I told her. “You charge three hundred dollars an hour for that hunk of wisdom? For that kind of money, you better be going down on me.”

Needless to say, I didn’t go back to see her.

“I find time in Nature quite sustaining,” Eartha said. “Do you want to go on a walk with me sometime? We could go on one of the trails near your studio.”

I glanced at her. That sounded like she was going to stay for a while.

“I’ll see if I can work it into my calendar,” I said.

Eventually the road straightened, and we were headed for the village. At one vantage point, we were up above the ocean. I could see smoke billowing from some canyon or cliff side in the distance. More than one smoke column actually. I wondered if Hayword had encountered any trouble getting to Los Angeles.

Then the view disappeared and we were in the village. I drove slowly down the main road and passed by most of the touristy shops.

“The library is down there,” I said, pointing. “How about I meet you on this corner in two hours.”

“Sure,” Eartha said. “Can I see your art studio first?”

“No,” I said. “Nobody goes there. Hayword barely knows where it is. You got a phone?”

Eartha shook her head. “I believe in face to face communication. Who knows what all those waves are doing to our brains?”

“They’re turning us all into zombies,” I said. I leaned over and opened the glove compartment. I reached in, found something slick and hard, and pulled it out.

“Here’s a throwaway,” I said. I glanced at the number I’d taped to it. “Five.” That was the speed dial number. “David is always losing his phone, so I’ve got extras. My number is on the speed dial.” I showed her. “Right there. Number one. In case we can’t find one another.”

She nodded. “You want me to pick up anything for the house?”

Someone behind me honked. He was way too close to my car. He was so close to my bumper I could see the veins in his forehead popping out. Looked like he had eggs for breakfast, judging from his teeth. I motioned for him to go around. He inched closer.

“Hey!” I yelled. “I don’t know you well enough for you to be that far up my ass!”

He couldn’t hear me, but Eartha got an earful. “f*****g asshole. Like it’s gonna ruin his day to wait two goddamned minutes. No, Eartha, I don’t need anything.”

Eartha got out of the car. She crossed the street and kept walking. I drove away quickly.

I took a circuitous route to the studio in case I was being followed. I wasn’t paranoid, much, but I didn’t want anyone I knew to know where the studio was. The only people who ever came there were people I f****d. Period.

Oh, and the cleaning lady.

I pressed the garage door opener and drove the car inside. Closed the door again. I nearly always used the garage so that no one would know if I was there or not. And my paramours always parked a few blocks over and then walked up.

I didn’t know a single neighbor.

Hadn’t a clue what they thought about me. But I kept the lawn mowed, and I was quiet, so they probably had no thought about me, which was fine by me.

I got out of the car, unlocked the side door, and went inside the house. It was cool and dark and felt empty, even though I’d been there a few days earlier. Sometimes I thought about getting a cat so that the house would feel lived in. But then I worried I might forget about the cat, and it would die, and I would never be able to get the stink out.

I went into the bedroom. The bed was made. The room had been aired out. Good. The cleaning lady had been here. Or was she the maid? What was the difference? I was never clear. All of my neighbors in the Enclave had maids and/or housekeepers.

I heard a tap on the window of my back door. I walked through the tiny kitchen and opened the door. Mark P. stood there, grinning, holding a bag of groceries.

“Hey, you,” he said. He came in and kissed me on the mouth.

He quickly put away the groceries while I watched. Then he put his hands on my waist and pulled me toward him.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he said.

“I can feel that,” I said.

“You looked so sexy,” he said. “Straight out of bed. No makeup. Hardly any clothes. Oh man. Take it off.”

“My clothes?” I said.

“No,” he said. “Well, yes, but take off your makeup. I want to see you natural again. Take off your clothes. All of them. You always leave your bra on when we make love.”

We walked toward the bedroom, holding onto one another.

“Mark, I don’t like anyone telling me what to do.”

“I’m not telling,” he said. “I’m asking.”

I shrugged. “Okay.” I went into the bathroom and shut the door. I leaned close to the mirror and pulled off my fake eyelashes. I washed my face with soap, then looked in the mirror. I looked like a drag queen who had been crying. I turned on the shower and got in. I tried to keep the water away from my hair, but I scrubbed my face again.

Then I got out and rubbed myself dry with a towel. I glanced in the mirror. “Oh geez,” I said. “Ah well. This is me.”

Maybe seeing me like this would scare Mark off. Probably about time to end it anyway.

I let the towel drop, and I opened the door.

Mark was lying on top of the covers naked.

“f**k,” he said. “You are beautiful.”

He was f*****g blind.

He pulled down the covers, and I got into bed. I could see he was ready to rumble.

“I’m not ready yet,” I whispered.

He smiled. Then he went down on me.

I was soon ready.

Very ready.

“It’s gonna be fast and hard,” he said.

I laughed. “Okay by me,” I said.

He put on a condom and then he was fast and hard. We came almost in the same instant.

Geez f*****g Louise.

“Wow,” I said when we moved apart. “That was fun. Let’s do it again.”

“Give a man a chance,” he said, lying on his back.

I straddled him. I ran my fingers over his n*****s and leaned over and kissed his ear. “I’m sure it won’t take long,” I said.

He grinned. I lay down next to him, and he turned on his side to face me.

“Now tell me that wasn’t the best s*x you’ve ever had,” he said.

“It didn’t last long enough for it to be the best s*x I’ve ever had,” I said. “But it was good.”

“We should be together,” he said. “We’re so good together.”

“We have good s*x together,” I said. “Besides that, we don’t know if we’d be good or not.”

I turned away from him. I didn’t want to have this conversation again. It was usually at this point in my affairs that I’d break it off—when they got too needy—but I liked Mark. I was not finished with him or his body.

He curled up behind me and put his arms around me.