Speaking Truth to Crazy

I woke up and screamed like a woman.

Jessie was standing next to the bed with her arms crossed and a large butcher knife in one hand. Strange house, psycho chic… that’s not the way to rouse someone from a state of REM sleep.

She thought it was hilarious.

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me,” I said.

She was dressed in a short green satin robe that was short enough to threaten revealing all. Patches of the robe were slightly wet. She’d obviously just showered. Her hair was wet and pulled into a loose pony tail. The smeared war paint was gone, along with that weird flower/sweat smell.

“So… who are you and when are you leaving?” she asked.

“My name is Lazlo, I’m a friend of Theo’s.”

“Bull shit, Theo doesn’t have any friends,” she said.

She’s probably right, unless you count the orcs, elves and wizards he knows online as friends. Me? I wouldn’t call those people friends.

I sat up in the bed and tried to keep myself from checking how short that robe was. I’d passed out in clothes, which always makes for a terrible day after. I was going to make up some elaborate lie but I just didn’t have the energy.

“I’m here to help,” I said.

“Then you can make coffe,” she said as she turned and walked away. Yep, I was right about the robe. A hint of her black panties peaked out in the back  when she left.

I gave her the abbreviate version of what you’ve already read here. I stressed how, like her, my up bringing was less than ideal. When I got to the part about being hired to get her through college, she came unglued.

“I’m not a retard,” she screamed and then throw her coffee cup against the wall. At least I know who probably put the hole in the front hall.

Tears started to flow. She hates her father. He’s a dick. No one loves her. She doesn’t have friends. It’s too late to change. She hates school. It’s boring. The professors are stupid. Why is her dad holding this money over her head? She’s an adult. She is living her own life. More stuff about hating her father.

When  she finally calmed down I said, “I don’t know. I just know, I really need this job. There is a lot of money coming your way if you graduate. People literally kill for that kind of money, I’ve covered their trials. It’s worth a shot, what else are you going to do? Hang out here with Theo for the rest of your life?”

More crying. This time it was less angry.

In the end, I think I finally sold her on giving college one more try. Everyone has a prime motivator and with Jessie I hit that button when I said:

“Your dad has told everyone you can’t do it. If you go back and graduate, he’s going to look like a fool.”

I helped her clean up the broken coffee cup and then explained I had to go home and let the dog out.

“So where did Theo go?” I asked.

“He’s out with his dog,” she said.

“Really? He’s actually getting exercise.”

She giggled and her eyes got this cute sparkling look.

“No silly, he’s having her put to sleep.”

“Why? Is it sick?”

“I don’t like that dog,” she said still smiling.

The smile melted from sweet to something else. A warped state of arousal perhaps? She stepped in very close to hug me, pressing her hips up against mine. She whispered in my ear:

“Let’s start tomorrow. Be here at 9 am”

This is creepy.

I untangled myself from Jessie, jumped out the front door and yelled over my shoulder, “See you tomorrow.”

I drove home very fast, let the dog out and had a drink.

I need to start looking for another job because this is going to end at any minute.

She’s not right in the head. This is never going to work.

Living High on the Stye

Theo left the front door wide open and simply shuffled off through the entry way while I followed a polite distance behind him.

There were three pairs of mixed gender shoes piled by the door and one orphaned loafer. A shin-high hole indicated someone had once taken their frustration out on the wall. Perhaps the missing loafer was still inside. A little further down was a hand print made with either dirt, blood or a little of both. There was a crooked landscape painting on the opposite wall of some anonymous farm.

“How do you know Jessie?” he asked over his shoulder.

It was hard to hear him due to large black mongrel dog barking and throwing itself against the back door. It’s wild nature and the mass of paw prints on the glass door indicated it was rarely in the house. The clumps of dog hair scattered across the floor proved it at least came in occasionally.

“I don’t know Jessie,” I said, speaking quickly. I had to give him my best sales pitch as fast as possible before he changed his mind about allowing me into his house.

“I’ve never met her. Nope, not once. Her father sent me here. Do you know Mr. Byrd? I bet not. He loves that girl of his. Anyway, my job, and I was hoping you could help, is to help her.”

Theo had flopped onto the couch and was now holding a 2 foot bong his lap.

“Help her do what?” he said before lighting the bong.

“I’m going to to help her with anything she needs assistance. For instance, it could be school…”

Theo exploded into a went hacking cough.

“Jessie’s not in school,” Theo said as his coughing spit started to stall.

“No, she’s not in school. But she WANTS to be in school.”

“She does?” Theo said, cocking his head like a confused dog.

“Of course she does,” I said. “She’s afraid to let you know that she wants to go back to college.”

“She is?”

I realized Theo probably spent most of his days either mentally or chemically confused.

“Yes, she is nervous about it and wants to act like she’s not interested in going back to college. So you and I have to be very clever and help her realize its okay.”

“You work for her father. She won’t like you. She only likes Cyndi.”

That was it. Theo, despite the fact that his limited brain cells were heavily damaged, had given me hope in reaching Jessie. I just had to play up my connection to Mr. Byrd’s secretary, Cyndi, and down play my pay checks from Mr. Byrd.

“So when will Jessie be home?”

Theo cocked his head to the side, returning to his confused dog look. Man, look at that guy strain to think.

“Late,” he said, but the reply came out with the inflection of a question.

‘What’s late?” I asked.

More confused dog looks from Theo. More painful brain straining.

“Maybe… 1 am?” he said, obviously guessing.

“Okay, here’s the deal. How about I come back at around 11:30. If you see Jessie, tell her a friend of Cyndi’s came by looking for her. Can you do that.”

Theo nodded his head and then pressed his face back into his bong.

“Okay, I’ll see you at 11:30 tonight,” I said, speaking v e r y   s l o w l y.

Theo didn’t walk me out. Theo could use some time in a finishing school.