blood, part I
I
pick up the plate, and then turn to the sink. I shuffle along, still
only barely awake; my bare feet cold against the tile, and I’m nearly tripping
over them. All the crumbs go into the garbage bin, and the plate
goes on the counter. I pick up my clothes for to-day and go into
the bathroom.
Oh, that’s right. I was going to clean it to-day. A quick look
at the shower tells me the cleaning can’t wait; that I can’t or at least
shouldn’t wash myself before I clean the bathroom. There’re no two
ways about it. But it’s Sunday, so there’s no rush.
I carry the cleanser and paper towels and window cleaner into the room
and dump them onto the floor. I’ll have to sweep, too, it seems.
I reach under the sink for the sponge, and turn to face the shower.
Man, that’s really disgusting. I have no idea how I let it get so
bad.
Maybe I should start with some thing easier, like the floor (but I don’t
want to go get the broom just yet), or the mirror (but I’d have to do the
sink first), or—aha! I’ll start with the garbage.
I pick up the bathroom garbage and bring it down the hall to the garbage
chute. I’ll just dump it in, and then get back to the bathroom.
Maybe then I’ll do the floor.
What’s this? I stop walking and stare intently into the bin.
There’s some weird thing in here, some thing pink. I put the bin
on the ground, and bend down to this pink thing. Carefully I pick
it up and bring it closer to me. Oh my god, it’s a maxipad.
I instantly drop it, but it bounces off the rim of the bin, and bounces
next to 204’s door.
I shudder a bit, but manage to pick the thing up and put it back into the
bin. I lift the bin and hurry over to the chute. I wonder how
this thing got here…
Wait a minute. How DID it get in there? I don’t know any girls.
Okay, well, that’s not true but none of them have come over recently.
Yesterday I was out over at Tricia’s. I don’t suppose I could have
brought it back…? No, that’s ridiculous. What else did I do
this week? I must have had SOME one over…
I stop walking for a minute to gather my thoughts. I turn toward
my apartment to focus them. My door is open. Oh my god, an
intruder! It must have been! I run back into my place and close
the door behind me, locking it. How often do I leave the door open?
When ever I take out garbage…when ever I visit the Carmichaels…when I—oh,
two nights ago I had Raheem over, and I walked him down to his car.
I think I left my door open the entire time!
That’s what it must have been: some one must have come in and had to change
their pad…no, this doesn’t make any sense. But still… I stare
at the door knob. I turn on the hall light and examine the knob closer.
I look at my fingertips. I can’t notice any one else’s fingerprints
on my doorknob. I open the door and check the other side. None…but
not even Raheem’s, so that doesn’t say much.
I go back in the apartment, garbage bin under one arm. How could
this have gotten here? It doesn’t make any sense. I walk into
my living room and see the balcony door. It’s unlocked. I put
the bin down and go over to the door. Is it possible? I pull
the door back and step out onto the balcony.
My eyes scan the floor, the ceiling, and then the railing. If some
one had climbed up here, would they’ve left any trace? I don’t see
any thing. I look down to the ground. I’m only on the second
floor…how difficult would it really be to climb up here? I turn to
my left and look at my bedroom window. Some one could have gone in
there, too.
This is assuming some one broke in here. But seriously, there has
to be a more reasonable way for that maxipad to get there. I mean,
c’mon, why would some one break in just to use the bathroom? In reality,
they’d take all my electronics and stuff. My stereo IS still in there,
isn’t it? I thought I saw it to-day…
I go back in and turn to the wall where my stereo should be. It’s
still there. As is my television and VCR. See? No one
stole any thing, therefore no one could have come in here. Unless…unless
she’s still here!
I look behind the couches, then go into the kitchen, double-check the bigger
cupboards. I run down the hall and check my room. No thing
under my computer, under my bed, in my closet. Closet… I run
back to the hall and check the coat closet. No thing there, either.
Of course, I know she was in the bathroom at one time. I run into
the bathroom and pull the shower curtain back. No thing.
Okay, let’s get a grip, here. It couldn’t be any sort of intruder.
That was a crazy idea to begin with. Now, who do I know who’s a woman?
There’s my mother, but she hasn’t been over here since March. My
sisters, but I don’t think they’ve ever been in my apartment. Tricia,
of course, but I went over to her place last night. I don’t think
she’s been here recently. Raheem’s girlfriend, Kara. She was
by last week or so, but just to drop Raheem off. I don’t think she
even came in the door at all.
My landlord. Of course. She has a key and every thing.
She was probably on the floor and just suddenly had to chg her pad really
badly, so she went over to my apartment to use the bathroom. But
she has keys to every one’s apartment, so why would she use mine?
Unless she was snooping around my place! She’s not allowed to do
that. I march over to the kitchen phone and pick it up. Okay,
what’s her number? I’m going to give her a piece of my mind.
I look at the page with all the numbers. Hey, here’s a good list
of all the women I know. Maybe I’ll just make sure it couldn’t possibly
have been some one else. Tricia, no. Maeve, haven’t seen her
in years. Dorie, she’s still on vacation…although she does have a
key…no, no. Kara, no. Mom, no. Win, my sister, no.
Ace,
my other sister, no. Gramma, no. Okay, I guess I’m done.
Pick up the phone and start dialling: 3. 6. 5. 4—some
one’s knocking on my door.
I put the phone down slowly. This is it. The intruder’s back.
What do I have to protect me? A quick look around reveals no crowbars
in the kitchen. But there’s a baseball bat in my room. ‘Just
a second,’ I call as I run past the door and then I hear ‘no problem,’
and it’s Howard Carmichael’s voice. I stop going for the bat, and
go and answer the door.
‘How are you, to-day, Mr. Carmichael?’
‘Fine, Ben, just returning your movie.’ He passes me the video cassette
I lent him.
‘Thanks. Wow, that was fast, I just gave it to you yesterday.’
‘Yeah, I’d really wanted to see it, so I did so last night. I quite
liked—why is there a garbage can in the middle of your hall?’
‘I was just about to take it out. Won’t you come in?’
‘No, the wife wants me back soon. We’re all going down to Mannheim
to-day to visit relatives.’
‘Yours or hers?’
‘Well, they’re all mine, now technically.’ Mr. Carmichael shook his
head. ‘For better or for worse. Hey, I’ll take your garbage
out for you, if you like. I’ll be going by the chute any way.’
‘Uh…thanks, but I’m not ready for it to go out just yet.’
‘Oh, okay. Well, I’ll see you later, okay?’
‘Sure, Mr. Carmichael. See you.’
I close the door and take a look at my video. It’s The Blood of 200
Men starring Kruys Manner. I go over and put it back on my shelf
in the ‘B’ section.
I was over for dinner at the Carmichaels. I’m there often.
I had brought the movie because Howard had mentioned he’d really wanted
to see it. Bonnie had wanted to see it, too, but I don’t think Pam
would’ve let her. Little Bonnie, such a cute little…oh my god.
When I was over there yesterday, Pam was in the shower, and Bonnie had
to go to the bathroom, and I told her she could use mine, oh my god it’s
Bonnie Carmichael. She’s the intruder. But…but she’s only…I
mean, she’s so YOUNG. Surely she’s too young…?
I guess not. Oh no, that’s so gross, I’ll never be able to look at
her the same way again. That’s just sick…Door knocks. I go
over and throw the door open.
‘Hi Bonnie.’
‘Hi, Ben. My mom said it would be all right for me to see Blood of
200 Men. Is it all right if we borrow it for a little longer?’
‘Sure thing, Bonnie. No problem. I’ll just go get it.’
I walk over to the video shelf. Don’t think of the pad. Don’t
think of the pad. I pull the video out and look at the cover.
She’s the same little girl you’ve always known. Don’t treat her differently.
Don’t THINK of her differently. I turn back and see Bonnie is standing
over the garbage bin, staring down at it.
She looks up at me. ‘I’m sorry,’ she says. ‘I didn’t mean to,
I wanted to use our bathroom but mom was in it.’
I take a deep breath. ‘Don’t worry about it, Bon’. It’s a completely
natural thing. Here’s the video.’
And once she’s gone again, I exhale.
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