You ever get a song stuck in your head? Yeah, it’s something like that…
#RepetitionCompulsion
“EEEEIH!”
They squealed, running around the playground, and it sounded like screams. “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”
Talking to myself. Not a good sign.
“Huh!” Then, a car drove up, and She got out. “Carol?” I hardly recognized her. “What are you doing here?”
“Just picking up Pete.” She went in, but came right back out, leading him by the hand. Her son, sucking on 2 fingers. Obviously.
“I’m just waiting for someone, babysitting.” Jesus, they somehow got even bigger?
“Oh, they won’t just let you pick him up.” She let his hand go, to open the car door, and help him into the seat. “Well, they’re the ones that put Kiddyland on the sign.” She joked.
“Bo.” Pete said. Drooling, and trying to point with 2 shiny wet fingers, but not quite getting them straight. Those cheeks, she still had those fat little cheeks, but her face grew in around them.
“I like what you’ve done with your hair.” A little late to be going through a Goth phase.
“Oh, yeah?” She pulled it out, and twirled it. Long, straight, and flat black. So her green eyes practically sparkled. “Well, I GTG, but I’ll tell Humphrey you said hey.”
She just drove off. So did I, but I can’t help thinking that, I’m fleeing the scene of the crime. Not that I ever did anything, “I never do fucking anything.” I’m such a loser, a dropout, living at home, but it takes me back. I used to go there, for pre-school, and day care on summer, after kindergarten. No doubt, whatsoever that’s her son. Even though he’s got auburn hair, hazel eyes, his father’s eyes.
Okay, I fucked that up too. I can’t say that I never got to do anything, I just took it too far, like I knew I would.
“Hm, mhnhmhn!” I hummed to myself, glanced at the radio, then back at the road. Sighed, and took a deep breath.
“Take off your shooz! Hang up your wings. Stack up the chairs, roll up the rug. Savor those things that sobriety brings, draining the last fromajug.
‘cuz,
When I hit the bottle there’s no telling what I’ll do. There’s something deep inside me wants to turn you black and blue. I can’t resist you, I can’t wait. To twist your lovin’ arms till you capitulate.
Beat me in the kitchen, and I’ll beat you in the hall. There’s nothing I love better than a free-for-all. To take your pretty neck and see which way it bends, and when it is all over we will still be friends.
Wave a white flag, putaway the pistol. Too many people just can’t get pissed and if there’s nothing I can do to make amends, baby. Hope you don’t murder me.
Gee baby, hope you don’t murder me.”
;
{Soundtrack note: Elvis Costello – “Wave a White Flag” (My Aim is True: Extended tracks)}
;
Carol (Fm S/m)
He came out to grab the bags, but Petey fell asleep in the car. “What you get?” He found the pack, and slapped it on his legs.
“Oh, you’ll never guess who I ran into today. You remember Allie.”
“Allison?” I nodded. There was a time when I never wanted to hear him say that name again, but that didn’t make her go away, and stay away.
‘ehn?’ Pete blinked, and smacked his lips.
“Sh, sh.” I bounced him back and forth, like the rocking of the car, and put him down. Picked up a Pacifier, and he went back to sleep.
Humphry lit up. “Honey, not in here, he could get an ear infection.”
“Sorry,” he took it back in the kitchen. “So… How was she?”
“She looked good. Think she lost a little weight, she didn’t give me that Look.”
“What look?” He grinned, so I tried it. He grinned even wider. “I like that look,” he kissed me, “It’s a good look on you.”
He held the cigarette up, so I rolled my eyes. Blew on the end, I don’t smoke, but it blew the ash off. So the ember flared bright.
“I missed you.” He put his hand down on the counter, and closed his eyes. Held his breath.
“Huh, well you know. I don’t like you smoking. In the house.” I put it out.
“SNH!” He bit his lip, and nodded.
“Babe.” I held his face. “Babe.” He looked me in the eyes. “You remember when you told me, that you didn’t have to warn me, to stay away from Her.” I felt down, and got a grip.
“NGH!” He nodded. “Yeah!”
I dug my nails in, through his pants.
“I never. Ever want to see her again.” I let go.
“Huh! Huh, okay. I guess I’ll go talk to Her.”
;
“Mummy.” (mM)
What am I going to say? I knew it would drive her nuts, eventually, but then I had a kid, and. I had no idea what dad, and his friends were talking about, until he looked up at me.
It wasn’t his first word, but he held up his hands. “Mummy.”
I know, I know, it’s a nickname. From when we’re kids, and the freshly lanced blister on my hand itched. Under the bandaid, and I’m not afraid of what she’ll do to me. I know I’ll like it, but soon I’ll be old enough to buy my own cigarettes.
He’s started walking, and I missed his first steps. Busy, working, and that’s. “Huh!” Okay. A little frightening, because that means soon, he’ll be old enough to play in the yard, and all it takes is 1 minute. A phone call, or a neighbor calling her over, to gossip by the fence.
He’s teething, but soon, he’s going to be a Toddler…
I don’t know what the big deal is with the so-called “Terrible Twos.” I love her, so much. “Snh!” I just, I had no idea that there was that much room left in my heart, but he called me.
“Mummy.”
I feel like I need to lie down. Hold my hands over my heart, and close my eyes. That would look more than a little weird, out here. On somebody’s lawn, but looking around, it just looks wrong.
That bush is new. Well, it can’t be that new, it hasn’t even been a year, but it must have been long enough to hide the hole, where they buried the roots. Well, more than a hole, I guess a trench, like a shallow grave…
“Huh!” Just, hold your arms down, stand up straight, “damnit. I can’t. I can’t I just. Can’t.”
Turning back, “Such a coward, don’t be such a fucking pussy. Just talk to her.”
“What am I going to say? I can’t threaten her, what if I did call the cops? She didn’t do anything, I didn’t ask her to. I practically had to beg her.”
“Hugo?”
“It’s Humphrey.”
“Wow, man. Sorry, huha! Hugo Humphrey, nevermind. How you been?”
“Fine, I guess.”
“Well, I haven’t seen you in years, so Alley must be dying to see you again.” He patted me on the back. “You two thinking about getting back together? You always were so good for her. You made her so happy.”
“No, I.” I held out my hand, my fist, and stuck out my ring finger. “Huh, I’m. Married.”
“Oh, who’s the lucky girl?”
“Oh, you don’t know her, she’s from out of town, so she didn’t grow up here. I just wanted to say goodbye. I’m leaving, she’s going back to college now, and I want to stay with her, but I’ve got a son.”
“Oh, wow. Man, huh! Couldn’t wait?”
I shook my head.
“Well, it’s not like we don’t have the occasional shotgun wedding, in our family.” He pushed my arm.
“I really have to go.” I ran. “Such a fucking coward! Snh! What’s wrong with you? Don’t cry, baby. What do you have to cry about? Why aren’t you happy?”
;
Little Triggers (This Year’s Model)
“Hon?” I knocked, “Can you turn the music down?” I never cared for Elvis Costello, but my wife wife likes him. He can’t really sing, but that never stopped other songwriters like Bob Dylan, and Leonard Cohen.
I waited long enough for her to pull down her shirt, but there was a plastic snap. Her hair was down. “We need to talk. I’m not so sure this therapist is working out.” Try to breathe through my mouth, so I can’t smell her, but she had her legs crossed.
“Huh, he’s as good as any of them. Honestly, there’s no treating it.”
I reached out, held down [Alt], and hit [Tab]
Nope, no porn. Not even another window for a text story, she was just window shopping. For a bearskin rug, $1,295 on Ebay.
“I know, honey. He’s told me that.”
“He can’t tell you anything, it’s confidential.” She turned around, and crossed her arms. So, the pink barrette could roll out of her top, and onto her lap. At least she pulled her skirt down.
“I know, but you can talk to me. How can I help you, if you don’t talk to me?”
“You can’t. You can just leave me alone. I just need to be left alone.” She’s trembling, and I just reached out, to reassure her, but she bit me?
“Ow fuck!” I had to hold my thumb, but blood started gushing out between my fingers. “Huh! What the.”
“GET OUT!”
“Uh!” I got my keys out, and locked the door. Before I got light headed. “Huh!” [911] “Huh!” How am I supposed to unwrap the gauze, from the closet left handed? Grab a hand towel.
“911 what’s your emergency?”
“Uh, I have to report, a. I need to sit down. An ambulance. I think I need an ambulance. I’ve lost a lot of blood.”
Hope I don’t need stitches. I don’t want to commit her. I don’t want to see her in a hospital, a psyche ward, but I don’t know what else to do.
“I think she’s a danger to herself, and others. She might hurt someone.”
“Where are you located?”
“My daughter, she needs help.”
“Stay on the line, sir? I’m dispatching an ambulance, and the fire department.”
“There’s no fire.”
“I just need an address.”
“Huh, right. I think I’m going into shock.”
“Where do we send the ambulance?”
“1369 Woodlawn circle northwest, hurry.”
There’s so much blood.
.
;
_ I’m sorry, if somehow you’re expecting a happy ending. There was a time when “Thou shalt not write it from the Psycho’s POV” was in the Writer’s Bible, but a lot has changed since then.
Let’s just say this wasn’t a comedy. I’m going to end on Bauhaus – “The Passion of Lovers” (Single)
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