Midsummer's Eve

Five



Now I shall do my utmost to paint an accurate portrayal of my three bff’s, a trio of diversity, my girlfriends. One is an incessant whiner, one has a slight speech impediment, and one is, for lack of a better description, a royal bitch.

We take turns going to each other’s homes monthly for our Monday night gab fests, and tonight is my night to host. I had prepared a chicken potpie, tossed a garden salad and created a divine concoction of chocolate pudding with whipped cream, nuts and cherries.

Let’s start with the incessant whiner, Mallory (whom you’ve already met). Picture Drew Barrymore with Fran Dresher’s grating snivel. She is short with more curves than Jessica Rabbit, minus the boobs, and I must confess the girl is your classic nympho. Honestly, she craves sex like I craved chocolate when I still had a period, which I haven’t had since cervical cancer marched into my life causing my doctor to insist on a complete hysterectomy at age 41.

Mallory only dates black men. All her intimate friends have heard her say at least once that just the thought of a white man’s penis makes her sick to her stomach. “They are so. . .so. . . pink!”

She began dating black men as nothing more than a way to piss her extremely overbearing mother off and in the process got hooked for life. It’s amazing what dramatic changes the love of a child can bring about. Mallory has a bi-racial daughter who is now the very center of her once intolerant mother’s universe.

Bless her heart. Mallory is also tender hearted to a fault. She can’t tolerate even the suggestion of hurting anyone’s feelings. I have stood by and watched her spend her last penny to buy a handmade birdhouse, when she didn’t even have a tree to hang it in, because an elderly man was selling them.

Therefore, most times when I am lamenting my pain and angst, she tells me what she believes I need to hear in order to feel better about my life in general. “It will be alright, Eve. He’ll call. Just give him time to think about it. Even though I can’t stand him, Adam loves you. I know he does. He is just…well…beyond stupid.”

Tammy has a slight speech impediment. Any word that has an s is pronounced with a th. Picture Rosie O'Donnell with a lisp. She is tall with a fuller figure and has a fondness for Latino-flavored men. She works in the accounting department of a large factory.

Her advice depends largely on what mood she’s in. If it’s a rotten mood, she will be quick to inform me that I should find someone else. “Adam couldn’t pothibly have loved you and cheated with Chia like he did.” If she is having a cheerful day, she will dial his number and motion for me to pick up the other receiver just so I can hear his sweet Yankee voice.

Now on to my favorite royal bitch. Teri. Picture Pamela Anderson with brown highlighted hair and much fuller lips. Okay. One statement pretty much sums her up. Until a couple of years ago, she was a man. Yep. A man. However, only the keenest and most perceptive eye would ascertain that now. She is decidedly female now, and has one of those bodies to die for. Large firm implanted breasts with nipples in the epicenter. I would kill to have my nipples back in their epicenter! Curvaceous hips, a tiny lipo sculpted waist, cheek implants, chin implant, buttock implants, laser resurfaced skin and all over laser hair removal, tattooed eyebrows and everything waxed, manicured and pedicured.

She had the final appendage removal a few years ago and was at last able to find the peace as a woman she had craved her entire life. The word that comes to mind most when describing Teri would be diva. You would imagine her walking a runway in Paris rather than being the gated community housewife that she is.

Her advice to me is always brutally honest. She tells it just like she sees it. No sparing anyone’s feelings with that girl. Hell, no. Not a chance. She has chewed my butt out on more than one occasion until it was left raw and bleeding over who she refers to as that spineless piece of human offal, Adam.

The night I had found out about Adam and Chia, after pain pills had finally eased the ferocious pain and nausea of a migraine, Teri had stayed on the phone with me the better part of the night talking me through the heartbreak of betrayal to prevent me from doing anything stupid. I received flowers and a fruit basket the following morning, because Teri has the biggest heart of anyone I have ever known. We’ve been best friends for 15 years since we…she was a he then…met in Cosmetology School.

Teri is now a very much in demand hairdresser in Charlotte, doing things with a head of hair that most hairstylists can only dream of. While I, on the other hand, knew after only two months of working in a hair salon that I wasn’t cut out for a career of catering to the wants and demands of the public, and moved on.

The old queen who had employed me in his salon had an elderly clientele and charged $8.00 a pop for a roller set and style. $8.00 mind you! And he took half of that for booth rent and supplies. This meant that if I listened to the demands of 10 finicky chattering little old ladies, arranged every last spit curl to their satisfaction, and applied an entire can of Aqua Net to each of their heads, at the end of the day I would walk away with the whopping sum of $40.00. Needless to say, after Uncle Sam took his cut, gas to and from work, and the occasional What-A-Burger, I was far removed from living in the lap of luxury.

While Teri moved to Charlotte and immediately got a job in one of the swankier salons, I enrolled at the community college for my Phlebotomy License. So I have my Cosmetology License and Phlebotomy License and end up scrubbing toilets for a living. Go figure!

So those are my three best friends. One only dates black men, one says there is nothing a man can do for her that her silver bullet can’t do, and one used to be a man.

“So, Eve, Eve, Eve…” Teri began.

Watch out! Here it comes!

Stabbing a slice of onion and for once failing to complain about it being mixed in with her greens, she daintily laid it to the side of her plate. “Please tell me that you are going to move on and not wait until Chia gets bored with that idiot you seem so fond of and he comes slithering back to you?”

Told you the girl was brutal. I chose to ignore the question, since she seemed to be baiting me. Evidently, she had missed a few hormone injections.

Tammy was busily trying to avoid any confrontation and picking what she referred to as chunks of red mush --tomatoes to you and me-- out of her salad. The group had a palate that was impossible to please and I had ceased trying years ago, leaving them to pick out the offending vegetables at will.

Teri couldn't tolerate onions, because they gave her heartburn and made her breath smell vile. Tammy cringed and swore that tomatoes gave her heart palpitations. And Mallory commenced to gagging if you placed anything that resembled a cucumber in front of her. The salad contained a combination of all three. It was either that or put a head of lettuce on the table.

Finished with her salad, Tammy set the bowl aside, scooped out a healthy portion of potpie and asked the words she had been dying to ask, “You thaw Chia, Mallory. How doth the look?” At times it sounded like Tammy had lost her lisp and was speaking straight out of the Bible.

Mallory stopped with her fork in mid air, positively loving the fact that she was privy to something the other two were still mercilessly in the dark about and bestowed upon me a most pitiful gaze. She shook her head and hesitated, unsuccessfully trying to convince us that for the first time in her life she had no comment, when I knew her lips were positively twitching to inform Tammy and Teri of Chia’s exquisite beauty.

“Don’t be silly.” I insisted, even though my heart sank to the floor at the thought of hearing she looks like a frigging supermodel yet again. “Be honest.” I couldn’t believe I was giving her permission to utter the awful truth.

“She looks like a frigging supermodel!” Then Mallory cocked an eye at Tammy and urged her to please consider leaving some potpie for the rest of us.

“Bite me,” was Tammy's reply.

Teri seemed wholly confused by Mallory's description. “Now don’t take this the wrong way, Eve. But how in the hell did Adam get someone who even remotely resembles a supermodel?”

“Same thing I asked.” Mallory burst out laughing, then glanced at me. “Sorry, Eve.”

“I mean I know you loved him, but he probably has any number of STD’s with the amount of screwing around he does. By the way, did you ever get tested?”

“Not yet.” I had intended to though. I just hadn’t gotten around to actually doing it.

“Well, I am going to call in the morning and make an appointment for you.”

“I’ll call. I'm due for a physical anyway.”

To be honest, now that I knew about Adam’s rampant sexcapades, I had been lying awake nights dreading what the doctor might tell me. I shuddered, remembering the nights of unprotected sex.

Suddenly the mixture of cream of chicken soup, Vegall, and chunks of chicken topped with Bisquick, lost its earlier appeal. My appetite completely deserted me as visions of revenge danced through my head. “I know this sounds extremely junior high, but I wish there was some way to get back at Adam. A way to make him hurt the way he hurt me. You know, just make him feel a little pain!”

“That shouldn’t be too difficult.” Teri grinned a devilish grin that we were all too well acquainted with. “This potpie is delicious, by the way. It’s so nice to enjoy a…simple meal for a change.” She cut her eyes at Mallory, who had a proclivity to serve soul food, such as hog jowls and chittlins, on her nights, albeit delicious soul food. “I’m sure if we put our heads together we could devise a plan to cause the imbecile some small portion of pain.” It was obvious that the excitement of getting even appealed to her. “You could always hire a hit man.”

I hoped she was joking. But Lord knows the girl still had a goodly amount of residual testosterone flowing through her veins. “Could we perhaps devise a plan that’s a little less criminal?” I set desert dishes and my chocolate concoction on the table. “Perhaps formulate a plan that doesn’t include the possibility of me rubbing elbows with a mass murderer?”

“Well, that certainly takes all the fun out of it,” Teri quipped, draining her glass of tea and getting up for a refill. “Anybody else want more?”

“You know how he loves his car.” Mallory brainstormed as she held out her glass. “It could always get accidentally damaged.”

“He would know the did it. And have the copth on her atth in a minute.”

“I don’t think he would have the cops on her ass,” Mallory disagreed, scooping out dessert and passing the bowl to Tammy. “But he would certainly be extremely pissed and expect her to pay for the damages.”

“How good doth thith thound? What if Chia fell for thumone elth?” Tammy nearly swooned as the desert touched her lips. She popped a cherry and then giggled and continued with her idea of a joke. “And the dumped him.”

Oh my God! What a beautiful plan. And why hadn’t I thought of it? That would cause Adam volumes of untold misery if the woman he was madly in love with fell for someone else and suddenly departed his firm grasp for the arms of another man.

“That’s it,” I whispered absently licking the chocolate from my spoon. “Tammy you are a freaking genius, and why didn’t you think of it sooner?” It was such a truly brilliant plot! Revenge at its best! “And I know just the person to do it.” I glanced at Mallory with a sly grin.

“Eric!” we both said in unison as Mallory’s eyes took on a faraway gleam.

“He could do it,” she murmured, licking her lips. She had made an exception and gone a few rounds with his pink dicked self, and judging from the leering grin on her face, was at that very minute contemplating the offer of a repeat performance.

Eric was an employee of mine. Tall, tan, drop dead gorgeous, and had probably never once heard the word no fall from the lips of a female.

“Okay, we have a plan,” Teri said deep in thought. “Now for the details. Where does the trollop live?”

“I have no idea.” If I had odds were great that my Jeep would be parked in the general vicinity of her apartment right then. “Damn!”

“Well, now let’s just think about this. Surely someone can tell us where the hussy lives. I mean this is Twin Rivers, not Charlotte. It wouldn’t be beneath you to follow her home one night, would it?” Teri, the reigning Queen of Scheme suggested.

“Brilliant!” I giggled knowing full well, as did everyone else at the table, that when it came to Adam nothing was beneath me.

“But he would recognith your car in a heartbeat,” Tammy suggested. “I’ll do it. I’ll borrow my dadth truck. Adam dothn’t know what my dad driveth.”

“Great. You’re right, Adam doesn’t know what your dad drives. But then again, Adam is always at their little love nest,” I said thinking aloud. “So Eric couldn’t just show up on the doorstep and commence to seducing her.”

“It needs to be an accidental meeting of some sort.” Teri absentmindedly spooned a tiny portion of whipped cream from the calorie-laden dish into her mouth. The second spoon contained what could only be referred to as a dollop of whipped cream and included a cherry. The third scoop of her spoon dug to the bottom of the Pyrex dish like she was digging for oil. She closed her eyes for a second moaning seductively and savoring the sweetness that, until that very moment, had been an all but nonexistent flavor in her diet.

Oh, no, no, no! Not a good sign! Tammy, Mallory and I exchanged troubled glances. Sugar was Teri’s sworn enemy and if her mind hadn’t been racing a mile a minute toward Adam’s anticipated downfall, it would have never reached her luscious, silicone-injected lips.

“We don’t know anything about where she shops or spends her time when the Neanderthal isn’t with her.” Teri murmured and closed her eyes as she licked a dab of stray whipped cream from her lips.

“We need her phone number so Eric can call her,” Mallory said attempting to pull her distressed gaze from the sight of Teri, who had already scooped out half of the 9 x 13 forbidden delicacy.

Unfortunately Mallory knew, as did Tammy and I, that we would all be on the receiving end of harsh phone calls riddled with obscenities when Teri either remembered this lapse in judgment or stepped on the scales, whichever came first. She would berate us repeatedly for not having the common sense of a warthog to chop off her fingers in an effort to cease the dreaded sweets from contributing to the ruination of her perfect figure.

“Is it in the phone book?” Teri mumbled around a cherry.

“No, I’ve already checked.” Mallory, Tammy, and I shoved Teri’s spoon aside and ladled out desert while there was still some left.

Think, Eve, think! How could we get her phone number?

“I’ve got it!” Teri shrieked, her glazed eyes evidence of a sugar high. “It would be on Adam's home phone.”

Yes, her number would be on Adam’s home phone. According to Justin, he and Chia wiled away many lazy afternoons on the phone. On the rare occasion when they weren’t in each other’s arms that is. “You are absolutely right.” I gave Teri a high five. “It would be, wouldn’t it? How did you get so dang smart?”

“It’s a gift,” she answered in her typical matter of fact fashion, all the while scraping the dish for the last smidgeon of desert and seeming overwrought that it was gone. Tammy saw Teri eyeing her dessert dish and ate faster.

“Can you get in the houth and get the number?” Tammy asked, peeking at Teri from under her lashes.

If I know Tammy, and I do, she would take her phone off the hook until Teri had been given sufficient time to rake Mallory and me over the coals and, hopefully forget about her in the process. Somehow, I always got stuck with the dirty work.

Getting into Adam’s house - now that could prove to be somewhat of a challenge. I had to ponder that for a minute. I was certain that he locked the doors to his house of ill repute before leaving. Then it hit me like a lightening bolt streaking through the window behind the sink. “He told me once that he leaves one of his kitchen windows unlocked in case he loses his keys.”

“The absentminded lunatic does have cause for concern.” Teri rubbed her temples as if the mere thought of Adam caused her head to ache. “But there you go! Crawl in the window and get it off his caller ID.”

Well, didn’t Teri make it sound like the easiest and most perfectly legal act of breaking and entering in the world? Of course, I would do it. It would be worth shivering on a cot in a jail cell for one night to bring Adam a little pain and suffering. Yep, I would do it, but not without an able accomplice. “Will you come with me, Mallory?”

“You know I will.” She grinned and excitedly rubbed her hands together. She was always game for any adventure. “When do you want to do it?”

“Tonight. I am so ready to show Adam first hand just how painful love can be.”



Teri and Tammy said their goodbyes and Mallory and I put on our spy gear. The only thing missing from this Mission Impossible scene was Tom Cruise.

Adam’s shift ended at 11:00 and he would be home by 12:00, on the off chance that he wasn’t sleeping over with his paramour. It was 10:15, so time was of the essence.

Don’t you know two grown women had never looked quite as ridiculous as we did skulking around in our black coats, gloves and toboggans? The gloves were so we wouldn’t leave fingerprints, of course. You know I read every single word Patricia Cornwell writes and never miss an episode of CSI.

And what about my Jeep? Was I supposed to park it in his driveway during our daring venture into espionage? No, there was a wooded lot across from his house. I could park on the back side and cut through the woods. Then we would cross the dirt road, hopefully without being seen or heard. Damn! I suddenly remembered that I had forgotten the duct tape for Mallory’s mouth.

I parked the Jeep as close to the edge of the woods as possible. Adrenaline gushed through my veins as I switched off the engine. Thankfully clouds were covering the full moon, so we felt semi-safe. “Let’s do this!”

Stepping out, we were greeted by a chorus of croaking bullfrogs, buzzing mosquitoes, chirping crickets and a hooting owl. Now that was unusual. Whoever heard of mosquitoes being a nuisance in the dead of winter? I might have given that thought further contemplation, if Mallory hadn’t rushed up beside me and began her nonstop, nervous chatter. We stealthily scooted from tree to tree, like amateur cat burglars, trying to stay in the shadows.

“Hush, Mallory!” The girl had squealed like a pig when a whippoorwill in the tree directly overhead issued an alarm. He was fulfilling his duty as night watchman by signaling the forest creatures that a stranger was in their midst. “It was just a whippoorwill.”

“Well, he needs to be quiet!”

“Don’t count on it. Once those birds start singing they never hush.”

“What if the cops ride by?”

“They won’t.”

“What if Adam has an alarm system?”

“He doesn’t.”

“What if a neighbor has dogs and they start barking?”

“They don’t.”

“I just know someone is standing at the window watching us.”

“Well then, stop talking so much and start moving your big ass!”

“Men never complain about my big… Oh! Oh! Oh! I just felt something scurry over my foot!”

“It was your imagination, Mallory. Please, be quiet! When you feel something slither across your foot, then you will have reason to worry.”

“Why did you say slither? There could be a copperhead pilot or a rattlesnake at our feet and we wouldn’t even know it until it was too late.”

After a short while the girl’s eternal whining could start to grate on your last piece of nerve and she would no doubt wake even the neighbors with hearing aids.

“What if the window is locked?”

She was such a worrier. “I brought a credit card, just in case. Have you ever opened a door with a credit card?”

“Lots of times.” She chuckled as we cautiously raced across the street. “It’s easy.”

Somehow I knew she had, but we had reached Adam’s house so I didn’t question her motive for having acquired that particular life skill. With our backs pressed against the house, we slid around the brick wall checking windows until we finally hit pay dirt. The one in the dining room was unlocked.

“Crawl in, Mallory.”

“Me? Why don’t you crawl in?”

“Because I am 10 years older than you. Now stop all your caterwauling and crawl in before someone sees us!”

“Eve, sometimes you worry the piss outta me!” She complained loudly, but raised the window and hauled her oversized derriere over the windowsill. Although she let it be known by loud huffing and puffing that she was far from happy about having the duty delegated to her. I heard her stumbling around inside, then she finally found the back door and opened it. “How are we going to see? Surely the neighbors will notice and call Adam at work if we turn on a light.”

I slapped my palm against my forehead in frustration. “Of all the idiotic things! Can you believe I forgot to bring a freaking flashlight?”

“Well, it was kinda spur of the moment. We didn’t exactly case the joint and plan for days like most master criminals would. Where’s the phone?”

“To your right on the wall.” I was anxiously feeling around in the pitch-black room and praying that Adam hadn’t had the forethought to set booby traps for a situation just such as this. But, never mind. As a general rule Adam doesn’t have forethought.

“Ouch! Shit!” Mallory yelped, banging her thigh against the kitchen table. “Here!” She handed me the cordless phone followed by the sound of her vigorously rubbing her thigh. “That’s gonna leave a bruise and you know I hate bruises!”

“Just turn out the lights and the man of the hour won’t even notice it.”

My eyes aren’t what they used to be and I hadn’t thought to grab my reading glasses, so I grabbed the phone and opened the refrigerator door for light. I hit scroll on his caller ID and there was Chia. About a hundred times! The talkative tramp!

Grabbing the pen and paper from my pocket, the only things I had remembered to bring in my haste, I jotted down her number and suppressed the urge to send the phone sailing through the nearest window. As I was writing, my eyes were drawn toward a blinking red light in the corner. His answering machine! Well now, I wonder who was leaving messages. It certainly hadn’t been me. Should I or shouldn’t I? I pressed play!

“Hey, baby.” A sultry, Asian voice purred from the machine. “Are you wake? How you sleep without me in you arm?”

Well gag me with a frigging fork!

Then, yet another Asian voice, “Hey Adam, call me when you wake up. I think I can stop by tomorrow around noon.”

I had been hearing depressing rumors lately that Chia wasn’t the only one sharing Adam’s crumpled bed. The pain in my chest felt like someone had my heart in a vise grip. “Let’s get out of here.” But as I turned to leave I noticed one of those disposable cameras on the kitchen table. Who still uses those? Let’s see. Should I or shouldn’t I? I was already breaking and entering. I might as well add theft to the charge. I slipped the camera into my pocket without the worrywart even noticing.

The woods were even creepier and more ominous walking back to the Jeep with the song of a whippoorwill echoing through the still forest. “Whip-poor-will. Whip-poor-will.”

I had a serious case of jitters and prayed that the sounds I heard were only the workings of an over stimulated imagination. The sounds such as limbs breaking too close to us with loud snaps that echoed through the woods like a rifle shot penetrating the darkness.

Maybe it was a deer.

Dead leaves being crunched on the damp, moss covered ground as if someone were skipping over them a short distance from us.

Maybe it was a deer.

The sound of leaves rustling and stirring in the trees, when the leaves had long since fallen from the trees. Okay! I doubt even Bambi could make leaves appear on barren trees!

At that moment, the moon shone through the clouds and illuminated the skeletal limbs that towered over us. We stopped dead in our tracks, as the woods were suddenly filled with the haunting melody of a child’s playful laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Mallory demanded.

“It wasn’t me.” I whispered peering into the trees with building apprehension.

“What tha…what do you mean, it wasn’t you?” She screeched and took off in a sprint.

Glancing up, I saw a small shadowy form or something considerably larger than a whippoorwill or an owl perched on a limb in the tree directly overhead. I stood still, too terrified to move a muscle.

“Mallory, look up at that tree,” I whispered hoping not to draw undue attention to myself. But Mallory was long gone. The girl left me in a trail of dust and evidently didn’t slow down until she stood trembling and gasping for breath beside the Jeep. When I realized that I was alone, in the woods with. . . something… you can believe I wasn’t far behind her.

“Why did you lock the door?” Mallory whimpered, her breath catching in her throat as I caught up to her. “Did you see him, Eve?” Then, without waiting for me to reply, she answered her own question. “It was the little boy, wasn’t it? It was the same little boy your Dad saw, wasn’t it? I saw him… in the tree! He was laughing! Did you hear him laughing? Oh Lord, we have a ghost after us for real! You know I can’t take this shit, Eve! Why did I let you talk me into doing something this stupid? Did you hear that sinister laughter, Eve? He was laughing!”

“Yes, I heard laughing and no, I don’t know who or what it was. And I thought I saw something, but it was probably just my imagination.” Leaning back in the seat, I took a deep breath and tried to calm my frazzled nerves. “It gets kinda spooky around here at night.”

“Spooky? Hell, that ain’t even the word for it! These woods are downright evil! They remind me of the woods in the Blair Witch Project!”

It had to be my imagination, didn’t it? Of course it did! When I could finally get my trembling fingers to fit the key into the ignition, I put the Jeep in reverse and backed out into the road slinging gravel. I drove home terrified that the little boy would skip across the road in front of us, or be swinging from an overhanging tree limb as I drove under it, then leap onto the hood and press his hideous face against the windshield. Here I was selfishly worrying about myself. Poor Mallory would have a seizure on the spot!

When we returned to my house, Mallory adamantly refused to drive home alone. I heard her rummaging through my dresser drawer until she found pajamas that fit over her supersized backside and crawled in my bed. I double checked the locks on all the doors and windows and joined her. It was then the delayed thought struck me that if the child could appear and disappear at will - a locked door probably wouldn’t present much of a challenge for him. Screw the electric bill. I left every light in the house on.

I had just pulled the covers over me and was reaching to set the alarm when the phone rang. Picking up the receiver I heard, “I cannot believe how truly ignorant the lot of you are! The Three Stooges in female form. You know how taxing it is for me to maintain this perfect figure, yet you sit idly by and allow me to stuff my mouth with enough pure cane sugar to send me into a diabetic coma and….”

I handed the phone to Mallory. “It’s for you.” Then I put a pillow over my head to drown out Teri’s ceaseless tirade and went to sleep.

I was awakened sometime during the night when a whippoorwill perched on the ledge outside my window and called, “whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will” in his mournful echo through the otherwise quiet night.



I felt like one of the walking dead when I rolled out of bed the following morning, but I was grateful for the light of day. Visions of the little boy had danced through my head for the better part of the night. And when the child had finally taken a break from disturbing my sleep, the whippoorwill had filled in with his haunting lament.

Stumbling down the hall to make coffee I heard Mallory rapping in the shower to a song about the joys of sex, smoking pot, and drinking something purple.

Only after I had my first cup of the steaming aromatic brew in my hands did I remember that I was anxious to drop off the pilfered roll of film and then get to work and talk to Eric. Hopefully he would agree to the plan the girls and I had devised and Operation Pay Back is A Royal Bitch could commence.





Kitty Margo's books