Tag Archives: Bob Chen

Duck, Duck, Dead Duck; chapter three, part two

The day after Ellen gave me the envelope, I returned to my apartment to find a single rose on the front step, and a window broken.  Being the smart gal that I was, I pulled out my cell and phoned the cops.  I waited for them outside my apartment building. By the time they got there, I was freaking out.  They found a picture of her, signed, along with lipstick prints all over my walls, my mirrors, my bedspread.  My underwear was strewn around the room and several panties were missing.  To top it off, she was taking a damn bath in my tub.  Her bag, which was stuffed with my panties, was resting on the floor by the bathtub.  Not only was she a nut, she was stupid as well.  The cops arrested her; her shrink came forward and said she wasn’t dangerous, just hallucinatory, and they locked her away somewhere.

“You didn’t think to call me then?”  Rafe shouted, steamed by this point.  “The psycho bitch breaks into your apartment, and you don’t tell me a thing?  What the hell is wrong with you?”

“She was apprehended without incident,” I snapped back, my own temper frayed.  I wasn’t used to answering to anyone, and in fact, had broken up with my last partner because he constantly questioned me about where I had been.  I wasn’t anybody’s property, and I didn’t like being scolded as if I were a small child.  “She was taken away and locked up.  That’s why I didn’t mention it to you then, and that’s why I didn’t want to tell you now.”

“How do you know she’s still locked up?”  Rafe asked.  “Maybe she was released.  If she was, maybe she decided the goddess had clay feet after all.  And what do you do when you’re disillusioned with a god?  You kill it.”

“I’ll find out,” I sighed, my body suddenly sagging.  It’s hard to believe that I was talking about someone wanting to kill me.  It’s such a ludicrous statement, that I had to resist the impulse to look around for the hidden camera.  Suddenly, the phone rang.  Rafe moved to get it, but I motioned him back.  Sometimes, I screened my calls when I wasn’t in the mood to answer.

“Beezus!  It’s your mother.  Pick up the phone; I know you’re there.”

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