Chapter 4


id fallen asleep on the couch to the TV. id been out for a couple of hours when the doorknob shook me awake. i bolted straight up when a young woman of 18, this stranger, an African American with bleach-blond hair and blue eyes stumbled, yea, burst into my living room, abruptly without grace, and looking quite disoriented.

the cable box read 1:20 a.m.

Brian did not follow her in. in fact she was unaccompanied. we always locked the door. what was going on?

“Brian!” i hollered, hoping he was in the back of the house.

the young woman looked over at me and said, “who-ooa.”

“whoa,” i answered.


“there is SOMEONE in our house!” i exclaimed loudly. sing-song and terrorized.

“whaAAat?” Brian came charging to the living room.

Brian was in the living room fast. he put his arms out in front of him, forming a box parallel to his chest, as if to make a tackle. he swept the woman right out the door and locked it tight, in one motion.

“what was THAT!?” Brian said.

“i know!?"

i suddenly felt really alert. i got up and started pacing. Brian dialed the cops, and as he explained what happened we were able to hear loud dialogue surmounting outside the house, presumably between the stranger and her boyfriend, brother, something.

it occurred to me, she could have been in distress, trying to escape an attack or rape. but if someone is escaping a rape, i reasoned, she will bang loudly on the door, yelling, “HELP me!”

it was probably bad drugs or too much to drink.

i was so awake after the fact i made chicken soup from scratch. it was a twenty-minute soup.

“who could make one so flavorful as i in so much time?” i wondered aloud, braggardly.

“not that crazy bitch,” Brian decided after a sip.


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