He wakes up and finds himself alone in her bed. The pain in his ribs has all but completely left him. Her stitches have done the job and his “found” antibiotics have worked, He now has a clean enough mind to think about what He has just done.”I am an idiot.”
As He walks around her bedroom He can’t help but feel like He is using Her. He watched over Her for months, at first He wanted to believe it was out of obligation. But at some point that obligation became habit, and the habit became second nature. Now He finds himself in a home that is not his, with a woman that was would be wearing another man’s ring. That is if He hadn’t pawned that ring to pay his rent a few months back.
He continues to walk around the bedroom, a bedroom that is almost as large as his entire apartment. “Maybe we are both using each other” He muses as he puts a pair of shorts She brought for him from his apartment. He touches his ribs again and maps out the pain, then He smells something, “Bacon?”
He follows his nose and finds himself in Lisa’s kitchen. She is standing in front of the oven wearing a new pair of pajama pants and a different t-shirt. He stands in the arch of the kitchen a bit bewildered.
She turns around and smiles at Him, “There’s juice and coffee,” she points to a small dining table in the middle of the kitchen, that hasn’t been pushed up against a wall. “I don’t know how you take your bean, so I left it black.” She looks back at her sizzling pan and flips some bacon.
He finds himself a seat and sniffs the coffee. He can’t remember the last time he drank coffee that was this strong, He has grown accustomed to the cheap stuff His office affords Him. “How is it…”
“How is it possible for me to afford all of this when you never see me leave my home?” She cuts him off.
“Actually I was going to ask how you’re able to cook so quietly, but that would have been my next question.” He takes another sip out of the cup and raises his eyebrows.
She plops some cooked bacon and eggs on a plate in front of Him and then sits across the table with Her own plate. “I have a secret, if you would like to hear it.”
He tries a piece of bacon, and for some reason it tastes better than anything He has eaten in years. “Please.” He speaks with a slight bacon-muffle.
“I was declared permanently disabled by our wonderful government about 9 years ago.” She eats some eggs, “It was right after my wedding actually.”
He coughs a little on his bacon, remember who Her husband is and where that man is currently living. “You seem to be perfectly ok to me. Some kind of sinister past I am unaware of?” He says with a grin.
She sighs a little, has some more eggs, then takes a sip of coffee. “Actually yes. You see before he was tossed in jail Ben found some business partners and together they convinced a group of mental health experts to declare all of us unfit for work.” Her head looks towards a kitchen window and then back to His eyes. “So I never have to work again, but I have to live my life like a hermit so I won’t get noticed.” She smiles, “I have to you I love this life. I sit around all day and do nothing, then once a month I get a check from the government and go back to doing nothing.”
“What’s not to love?” He looks down at his plate and realizes He has devoured his meal. “Oh, uh, thank you for breakfast, it was great…evidently.” He looks away for a moment a shakes His head.
“So you don’t think I’m an awful person do you?” Her look of concern was obvious.
“Because you found a way to not have to work anymore?” He laughs, “Hell no!” He wipes his mouth with a napkin and smiles, “You have no idea the things I have to do to get my bills paid.” He turns his head towards the living room, he can hear his phone buzzing. “I think that’s my phone.”
She stands up with a half cocked eyebrow, “Yes, it’s next to my now blood stained couch,” She smiles and kisses Him, “Go answer your phone.”
He pops up and heads to the living room, “You owe me a new couch,” She says loudly.
He snaps up his phone and before answering it actually thinks, “I wonder if I could steal a couch…” He looks down at the phone to see that He has missed another call from his office. He checks the phone for today’s date, “Shit. I need to call my office,” He turns His head towards to the kitchen and catches Her glance, “I am going to take this in my apartment ok?”
She nods and goes back to Her dishes.
He walks back to his apartment and locks the door behind himself. He recalls his number and after a couple of rings Mr. Hickman picks up the line. “Hello James, sorry to call you while you’re out sick.”
James sits on the end of his bed, “It’s fine Mr. Hickman, what can I help you with.” He remembers to speak with a rasping sound in his voice, because he is so ill of course.
The phone starts talking again, “Well the thing is James, there are a couple of police officers here who need to ask you some questions about something that happened in the parking garage the other night.”
The color drains from James’ face, “Perfect.”
The Art of Ric Susman 