Page 10 of Compassion

Yeah, coming home to Chris didn’t occur nearly as often as she’s picturing. Curse of having a significant other who traveled a lot for work.

“You need this, Jaye. You need someone in your life to take care of you. To build a family with. Alifewith. You need to move on.”

Instead of outwardly screaming that I am well aware that life continues on after the death of a loved one, I quietly lie, “Hey Mom, I gotta go. The other line is ringing, and it’s work. I probably forgot to lock up something in the library, and my boss is just calling to ask me did I know. I’ll talk to you again soon.”

“Wait, are yousureyou’re getting enough brain foods in your diet? What about blueberries? Have you been having blueberries in your yogurt like I told you?”

“I swear my brain is fine-” – just tired of dealing with you – “-but I need go.”

“I love you.”

Reluctantly, I echo the sentiment, “I love you, too.”

Hitting the end button allows me to finally breathe again.

Iknowshe’s the reason my wine intake has increased over the past year, just like I know my ordering of Chinese takeout tonight isn’t going to help my tight pants dilemma. But you know what? Sometimes, we just do what we gotta do to survive another day. Between you and me? I look forward to a point in my life when I’m no longer just trying to make it and actually enjoy living again.

Chapter 4

Archer

I turn off the hose after my two plastic water bottles are filled.

You know what most people don’t realize? Justhowfucking routine based they truly are. The average person does the same little shit day in and day out. Humor me. Take a minute and really give some thought to your own basic habits both inside and outside your home. Alright, now those little thoughtless moments when you’re on autopilot are what make it easy for me to slip by and live off of you when I need to. For example, when you leave for your morning thirty-minute jog or to go grab that coffee you just had to have from your favorite shop up the road, it gives me the opportunity to pick up the peaches or pears or pecans from your tree that fell overnight. The ones you won’t notice until the ants or other rodents come for the taking or your lawn crew is tasked with their disposal. Yeah, I saidotherrodents because that’s what you think I am, right? A giant rodent. A pest on society. Useless. Pathetic. Well, fuck you for that and let that be the reason I pee on those petunias you only wanted because your snotty neighbor’s yard was beginning to look better than yours. Oh, don’t worry. I piss on theirs, too.

The sound of a car approaching pushes my back flush against the side of the brickhouse so that the manicured bushes can block me from view. Staying completely still, I actively listen to the overpowering male voice yelling at whoever is on the other end of the phone. His volume booms as he calls them incompetent and slams the car door. Disorganized is the next insult that precedes the honking of the horn which lets the world know his vehicle is locked. Unacceptable becomes the last thing I clearly hear prompting me to count to a hundred before coming out from my spot.

This shit happens like clockwork. Mr. Yelling comes home relatively around the same time every evening either shouting at someone who works for him or screaming at someone to make his latest ‘indiscretion’ disappear; however, he usually ends that particular call before stomping into the house where his wife – who has a habit of watching girl on girl porn before cooking dinner – is waiting to greet him. And before you ask me how I know so much about these people, I already told you. The average person is more routine based than they realize and learning their habits is a crucial method to my daily survival strategy. First, I study the terrain. Which homes have what angles and locations closest to the things like neighborhood security or roads with heavy traffic. Once those have been eliminated, it’s about separating them into two categories, those who have security cameras and those who doesn’t. Those that don’t are then surveyed a little harder for what value I may be able to extract from them such as this one. Due to the barrier bushes and her distraction with getting herself off in the living room with a big, black, vibrating club I’m left with a good window to brush my teeth, bathe, and get clean drinking water all before she runs away to hide her toy, and he storms his ass inside. I guess you could say my tactical military training still plays a productive role in my life.

Wandering away from the Yell House is casually done as to not draw attention to myself.

The trick to keeping suspicions down – besides the obvious action of sticking to the shadows whenever possible – is to avoid eye contact while walking like you knowexactlywhere you’re going. People tend not to think twice if you look like you're headed somewhere in particular versus just aimlessly roaming. That little rule applies regardless of if you’re slinking around the ‘burbs or prowling the streets downtown. It prevents you from looking like a hostile to be watched and presents you more like noncombative to be ignored.

Another night of frigid wind ruthlessly makes itself known. Despite the well-insulated coat and several layers that I’m bearing, cold creeps its way through every crevice it can find, forcing me to acknowledge the unbearable ache it creates in my bum leg.

Should’ve known this below freezing bullshit was here to stay. Then again, it’s hard to be sure of what the weather’s gonna do when the best version of a daily forecast you have is whatever you overhear people bitching about during their morning walk. Please note that ‘totally Ugg boot weather’ doesn’t equate to an actual number on a thermometer. Just sayin’.

“You’re a cheating bastard, Franklin!” The woman on the other side of the sidewalk shouts at the top of lungs at the same time she hauls a vase of roses at him. “You think fucking flowers make up for you fucking our nanny?! Our nanny?!”

“Babe, I-”

“Fuck you! I never wanna see you again!”

His pleas to take the fight inside grow louder in volume as I decide to veer the opposite direction of their confrontation.

Most people don’t realize just how good they have it in relationships until they’ve already trespassed into an area that they have no business being in. Until they’ve already violated the simple treaty of trust. Yeah. I said simple. Because itissimple. Say the shit you mean. Do the shit you say you’ll do. Be honest. If you say you’re going to be fucking faithful then fucking be faithful. Don’t negotiate the terms of a relationship, shit on them, then act surprised when your ally turns on you.

Seeing Pizza Woman’s house in the near distance naturally causes my body to gravitate towards it.

Yeah. The nickname stuck. At least it has in my head. That’s how I’ve been referencing her whenever she’s crossed my mind. And to be brutally honest, she’s done that a lot. More than any person has in years. Before our pizza incident she was simply the 'Two Day House'. For whatever reason the food in her trash was rarely more than a couple days old whenever I would check. It’s wasteful shit, but I won’t complain. It’s provided me with a steady supply of non-rancid food. I appreciate that, even if I don’t agree with what she’s calling trash.

The clearer sight of her home has the smile I didn’t realize I had grown growing bigger.

Wider.

What! Putting aside the fact she’s…drop dead beautiful… she spoke to me. She actuallyspoke to me. Do you understand what I’m saying? She didn’t yell. She didn’t scream. She didn’t insult me or threaten to call the cops. She talked to me like she viewed me as a person rather than a pest. And yeah, the conversation was a little one sided – given that I didn’t say shit – but it didn’t deter her from continuing to try. And you know what? I haven’t been able to shake that small high of humanity since. The need for another hit has been pushing me to go back every day. To see if I can have another or if it was just a fluke. A flub. A one-off. That…irresistible feeling of being treated like an actual human being has me curious to see if maybe I just caught her in an unusually kind mood or perhaps in a charitable mindset. Part of me is anxious to know if she sees me as an actual living, breathing, individual worthy of kindness or love or if she’s just like everyone else who labels me as a parasite of society.

As much as I wish I could just walk up to her door and knock, I know the invitation extended was justpoliteness.

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