Part Three

It’s morning, and my hear hurts.
A car is honking outside. My car. I walk over to the bedroom window, and see Nat down there with her sister. The sister gives me a dirty look as Nat walks to the door. The doorbell rings, pounding in my head. I look for some pants, realize I didn’t get undress last night, and go downstairs.
Nat is standing there in her sister’s clothes, embarrassing little numbers from straight off of the discount rack in some chain department store. I give her a cocky smile as she brushes past me. He sister walks in a few steps behind, carrying several flattened boxes. She throws them onto the living room floor. Nat begins throwing things in. I watch for a few minutes, and then go and get a glass of water.
The only thing on the downstairs TV is the normal daytime trash. I shake my head in disappointment.
Nat is standing over me. I blink. I fell asleep?
She hands me her key. I look around the room. Most of the stuff still here is hers. I notice a few of my DVDs are missing. Whatever. I look up at Natalie. She is still there.
“You want something, woman?”
“An apology.”
I laugh. She gives a look that is supposed to be mean, but it only makes me laugh harder. She huffs and then walks off, her heels making confident clicks on the tile near the door. The door slams. I shrug and get up. My head hurts a little less now. I walk into the living room.
Empty.
Whatever.
I didn’t like most of that stuff anyway.
The driveway is empty, too. She and her sister took both the cars. Oh well.
I slink back upstairs, and turn on the TV. The gentle sounds lull me to sleep.

I end up getting to work the day after Nat packed her shit. Boss give me some speech about bullshit, and how he had to give the man a car at half price to prevent the cops from showing up. He hinted at wanting to keep the cops outta his place forever. He probably had a nickle bag of pot somewhere in his desk. Uptight bastard. He was keeping my last paycheck. When I hear this, I smile, and give him the finger.
“Here ya go. This will go nicely with my money you’ve stolen.”
“Stolen?” He looks shocked. “I…”
I get up. “Have a great day, shit eater.” I leave, walking home. Nat still hasn’t brought my car back, and I don’t care. Life is easier without it.

I make a list when I get home of things I have and things I need to have.
Things I Have:
Bills
Beer

Things I Need to Have
Job
Car


I look at the list for a long time, then add “Milk” to the “Need to Have” list. Yesterday was bad. Today isn’t much better. How long ago did I become miserable? How long ago did I stop caring that I was miserable? I crumple up the list, throw it away. Fuck it, I don’t want that depressing bullshit staring me in the face when I get up.
The phone rings.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Ed, It’s Cobbs.” Cobbs is my neighbor. He likes to drink more than most.
“What, Cobbs?”
“I’m having a party tomorrow. Wanna come?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Cool. Bye.”
“Yeah-huh.”
Click.
I get a glass of water, and stare out the window above the sink. Outside is the shitty back lawn, patchy and brown, a broken plastic slide from the days when Nat ran a baby-sitting service. Wasn’t it the rule that only white trash house wives baby-sat during the day? Am I white trash? A real-life redneck?
I drag ass over to the couch. I turn on the TV. Nothing is on other than the usual shit. Seinfeld is nowhere to be found. Fuck. I roll onto my belly, and fall asleep.