So Naive : A Short Story

Underneath that sweet smile is a cat waiting to get out of the bag! I saw you together, he told me about it. There is no sense trying to fake this one. She walks off and I don't see her again. Strangers are the darnedest things, one minute you're exchanging names and the next you find out they were the ones who took your man to the races, and won more than a bet.

A door opens to reveal a dozen women swarming like bees. They talk in high pitched voices and cackle between wide eyed stares over your shoulder. The group leader beckons us into a circle of folding chairs, and everyone begins to introduce themselves.

Hi, I'm Patty. I'm here because my husband cheated. Told me he was going to the races with an elderly woman who wanted to buy a car.

He was a car salesman in Temple City. Turns out her horse won, and they took a photo together with those prize roses around the horses neck. Elderly my ass. She couldn't have been older than 25. Of course, I don't bet. But, he sure did. He bet I wouldn't wonder why he was coming home that night at a godforsaken hour. The last race ended at 5pm. I checked the schedule.

Its no coincidence that my co-worker went to riding school with little Ms. not-so-elderly Muirholland. A rich family name from LA. Can't miss it. That's all true. They own the water I hear. Put all their extra money into horses and raising home wreckers who can ride.

Two years of hell later, and he calls me after a month on the road. Tells me he is on his way back from SLO, San Louis Obispo, where his folks live. He never did like it when I asked about his day, but a month, really? For a month I didn't hear from him. And as happy as I was about that, he was still my husband. He had a lot of secrets.

The women were frantic, each of them thirsty for more juice. Chair legs scratched the floor as they sat restless at the edge of their seats and squirmed. If it wasn't for the judicial order, I wouldn't be here.

I packed a bag and phoned my mom, she drove 3 hours from Reno in the middle of her anniversary weekend. We got a hotel and waited for him to get home. He said he'd be back early since he was driving through the night. My heart was beating fast and I all I could do to stay calm was think about how happy I would be once this was over.

At 5am I drove by the house to see if he had gotten in yet. I saw his lifted Jeep parked in the garage. I can't imagine what kind of gas mileage he got driving that far with 44 inch super swamper tires. Or the fix it tickets for that matter.

The night before I went though all our bank statements online, and did some research. He had spent around $15,000 over the course of that month and hit 10 different cities along the West coast. I can place an educated guess where that money came from. My beautiful white extra cab 2002 Tacoma, that's where.

I walked in and saw him laying on the bed asleep. Didn't even call when he saw I wasn't home. What manners. I guess it doesn't matter now. I reached out a hand, placed it on his chest, and waited for him to wake up. When he opened his eyes he looked absent. Blank. He didn't even flinch when he saw it was me.

In my most nurturing voice, the one I used when I wanted him to think I was nervous... (it comes out high pitched and anticipating, but inside I'm as numb and stoic as an indoor cat). I said I wanted a divorce. Again, no recoil. He was amused by the statement, half grinning and as relaxed as ever. So I told him to be out by tonight and ran off. I drove three blocks before I called him. I was getting gutsy.

Hello?

Hey. I took the money out of our accounts yesterday, and if you aren't gone when I get back from work I'm calling the cops.

What? You better get back here, and that money is mine! Come back .... or I'll kill all your cats!

Go ahead and kill them. But, be out by tonight.

Of course, I didn't mean it. But, I'd been reading this book about verbal abuse and it said not to react. To pretend what they are saying is normal, and refrain from having an emotional outburst. That's the worst advice. I don't think the author has ever dealt with verbal abuse coming from someone who is manic. Yet, she said to yawn or tell them to come up with something new so they see you are not giving in to their need for control. Oh, and by the way, we had 4 indoor cats.

I turned the car around and parked a block over. We lived on a corner, so getting in the back door unseen was simple. He was naked on the pot, I could see in since the door was cracked. I quietly took each cat out one by one and placed them in my car. Then I drove off again and called him as I got near the end of the road.

I took the cats, I've got all the money. Be out by tonight!

Click. Done. The cats were safe with me. Although, my phone rang off the hook for the next 30 minutes before he gave up. The cops did get called though. When I got off work he was still at the house. As the officer pulled up as the scrawny bastard was loading my old computer and printer into his over-sized play toy. He had to buy semi-truck mud flaps to be street legal. I knew he sold more than weed. It was then that I realized I had been married to a tweaker. I was pretty naive.

Patty, I need to interrupt you for a minute. I don't mean to be rude, honey. But your taking up a lot of time with the parts of this story that need no explaining. We're here to talk about our feelings, not get all caught up in the details. Tell us how you feel, sweetie.

I don't miss him. I'm just afraid I'll never get over it. I don't trust anyone anymore. Especially men. I'm just waiting for them to screw me over, tell me I'm crazy, hide their addictions, and cheat.

The truth is I really need you all, I need people to talk to about all this. But, no one listens to me, not even my family. No one cares, I feel like I'm totally alone, and I never-

I'll have to cut you off, Patty. I realize this has been difficult and thank you for sharing. Ladies, let's give a round of applause for Patty's courage to share he story. We'll look forward to hearing more from you next time you decide to join us, okay Patty?

But, I'm not done... I wanted to tell you about why I went to jail. Why I have been hurting myself, why I feel like the world is against me and how afraid I am to go home alone tonight. Sometimes I just want to end it. I need help.

Look, Patty. I'm just a psychologist. I'm not your mother or Jesus, baby girl. Maybe you can come back next week and tell us what you did to make yourself feel better. We all go through this, you're not alone. You've been through a lot and it takes time to heal, so be patient. Next week's meeting is getting closer every day. Just know that.

What? Is this some kind of joke? Like my only hope is to make it another week to attend this meeting and do it all over again? Fuck, what was I thinking. I'm not joining your cult, or whatever this is. Keeping people prisoner in their problems, hashing them out week after week, just to come back and do more of the same. You're all idiots! Don't you see how she is controlling you? And above her, because she probably isn't even aware that she is part of a system that want's you all to be dependant on their drugs and rehab! I'm out.

Well, I didn't say that. Actually I said, "Oh, ok thanks, ya." Because when you've been abused for that long... you want everyone to think you are sweet and innocent and incapable of anything beyond breathing. You apologize for taking up space in line or for bumping into inanimate objects. You need everyone to be more powerful than you, so you feed their ego... you make them feel big and in charge. You let them win. You let them take your car, your house, your money, your health, and your dignity.

That's how I manipulate you, because then it's all your fault. I don't tell you what I'm really thinking, because that is something I can control. If you knew how powerful I really was, how easy it would be for me to just pull the trigger, you wouldn't treat me like dirt. But, I like this game. I'm addicted to this game. When I give you control over me I get to blame you for why I can't keep a job, why I'm not happy, and why I can't do what I want. I get to blame you for all the things that make me miserable. I get to blame you for my shit life, and that makes me feel like the real boss around here. Only, you have no idea you're working for me.

And to think I started out so innocent... so naive.

THE END

Thanks for reading!!

CREDITS:
Image from: https://www.thoughtco.com/make-your-own-mug-shot-