Jason Starr - Twisted City

I walked home from work. Every time I saw a cop I crossed the street to avoid being seen, afraid that a description of me had been radioed around the city. I made it to my block, relieved that no cop cars were in front of my building.

In the hallway outside my apartment, I stopped when I heard the Police's "Hole in My Life" playing inside. I was upset that Rebecca was home, that she hadn't moved out today, but I was also confused. She never listened to my CDs and always made a big fuss whenever I played them.

I opened the door and went to the living room and saw Rebecca lounging on the couch, reading a copy of Vibe.

"Hi, honey," she said in a domesticated, 1950s way. "How was your day?"

I stood there near the door, taking in the scene. Then Rebecca looked up at me again, smiling.

"What's going on here?" I asked.

"Not much," she said. "Just chillin', listening to some Police. I decided you were right I should start listening to other types of music widen my horizons? That song "Roxanne' is dope, yo."

"Is this supposed to be funny?"

"Is what supposed to be funny?"

"Don't you remember our conversation last night?"

"Yeah, I remember it. You told me that you're in love with somebody else."

"So if you know that, what're you still doing here? Why don't you move out? Go stay with a friend."

"Because I don't believe you."

"You don't believe I met someone else?"

"No, that I believe. I just don't believe you're in love with her.

Maybe you had a fling with someone at your office, because you were mad at me, but I forgive you." She resumed flipping pages of the magazine.

"Oh, sorry I didn't cook tonight I didn't have any money. I have an idea let's go out to dinner. We can go downtown to this cool Spanish place in Soho Ray told me about, then we can swing by Key Club or Exit?

Unless you wanna listen to some rock I'm down for that too. Or maybe you just wanna go bar hopping When was the last time we got wasted?"

I was staring at her. Finally I said, "It's not a fling. I met somebody else, I love her, and I want to be with her."

I was just saying this to hammer a point home, to convince Rebecca to leave, but I wondered if I was talking about Angie.

"Pul-leeze," Rebecca said, shaking her head and smiling. "Do you really expect me to believe that?"

"Why would I make it up?"

"Because you're still mad at me and you're trying to hurt me. Just stop it already."

"You're wrong," I said. "I really did meet someone else someone I'm very serious about. Her name's Angie."

Rebecca tossed away the magazine and got up from the couch. She came over to me, wrapped her arms around my back, and moved her mouth up toward mine, her lips parting slowly.

"You look so hot tonight," she said. "How about we pop some E and go into the bedroom and get busy?"

She started kissing me. I pushed her away and said, "What the hell're you doing?"

"Come on," she said, reaching around and squeezing my ass.

As she leaned in again to kiss me, I pushed her away and said, "I'm serious. I'll give you two days to pack up and move out. I think once you're gone you'll see how good this is for both of us."

She looked at me as if she didn't recognize me, and then started to smile.

"That was really good," she said. "How long did it take you to think that one up? Seriously, I bet you were thinking about that all day.

You were thinking, "I'll tell Rebecca "Once you're gone you'll see how good this is for both of us." You thought that would really get me back."

"I'm not trying to get you»

"You probably made up that whole Angie story too."

"I'm not making up anything," I said very seriously.

I could tell she was starting to believe me.

"So how is she?" she asked.

"How is she what?"

"You know…"

She tried to grab my ass, but I moved away in time.

"… in bed," she continued. "Is she in shape? I bet she isn't. I bet she has flabby thighs and a blubbery stomach, and I bet she has zits." She made a disgusted face.

"You have two days to get out," I said. "I think that's a reasonable amount of time to find someplace to crash. Maybe you can move in with Ray."

I went into the kitchen and Rebecca remained in the living room. I opened the refrigerator and took out the Brita water pitcher.

"Two days," I said as I turned on the faucet and filled the pitcher.

"I'm giving you two days."

With the water running I couldn't hear what Rebecca was saying not that I cared. I turned off the faucet and said, "Two days," again.

Rebecca entered the kitchen. She watched me pour a glass of water and drink it, and then she said, "So you expect me to just leave? Just walk out the door and that's it?"

"It doesn't have to be like that," I said. "We could still stay in touch be friends, do lunch every once in a while."

"And what about me? What do I get out of all this?"

"What're you talking about?"

"I didn't invest all this time with you for nothing."

"I wasted time too."

"I didn't say wastedl" she screamed in a shrill voice. Great, I thought. Now Carmen or the other neighbors would complain about the noise to the landlord I'd be lucky if I could keep my lease.

"Brilliant," I said.

Rebecca picked up the glass from the counter and flung it behind her.

It smashed against the wall above the stove, shards going everywhere.

"That's it we're over!" I screamed.

"Nothing's over," she said, "until I say it's over or until one of us dies."

"Really?" I said. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Whatever you want it to mean." She smiled ambiguously.

"So what're you saying?" I said. "You're saying if I try to force you to leave you're going to kill me?"

"You never know," she said. "I could strangle you while you're asleep one night. Or maybe I'll get a gun." She held her index finger and thumb up to my forehead, then bent her thumb down and said, "Pow."

"You're really scaring the shit out of me," I said sarcastically, but I kind of meant it.

She was staring at me, doing her best to look like a maniac.

"You're right, I could never hurt you," she said. "Besides, what reason would I have? I know you'd never really try to leave me."

"What're you talking about? I'm telling you to leave."

"You don't tell me to do anything."

She came over to me and put her hands around my waist and rubbed up against me. I wanted to move away but I didn't, or couldn't.

"When I found you that day in the park you were like a stray dog," she said. "I rescued you and now you're mine."

"I think you need help."

She kissed my neck a few times; then she kissed my lips.

"You belong to Rebecca now," she said. "You only do what I tell you to do, but you don't have to worry you can sleep tight tonight, cutie.

Rebecca would never, ever hurt you."

She kissed me again, longer this time, then strutted out of the kitchen and headed along the hallway. Moments later I heard the bathroom door shut.

I stayed in the kitchen, wondering who was crazier Rebecca, or me for staying with her all these months.

After ruminating for a couple more minutes, I tiptoed over the broken glass, figuring I'd clean up the mess later, and went into the living room. "Can't Stand Losing You" was playing and I remembered how Barbara and I used to listen to Bowie and the Police all the time in high school and college, and how I was listening to a Bowie CD that night Barbara came over to my apartment.

"I'm sorry," she said. "You were so right. You were so right about everything."

She looked awful, like she'd been crying for hours. I hadn't spoken to her at all in over two weeks, since the night I beat Jay up. I'd tried to call her at home and at work, but she kept screening my calls and hanging up on me.