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Magnum

Spencer Pearman

    “My therapist once told me I was paranoid, or delusional, or both probably. But, he wasn’t really a therapist. He turned out to be a con artist, and not a very good one, apparently, since he’s in jail.”
    It must have been around four in the afternoon, and the mailman was looking at me very confused as I was telling him my story.
    “He wrote me, though, and told me that out of everyone he gave fake therapy to, he was sure of my diagnosis. But how do you take that from a mediocre con artist? Anyway, do you know how an empty box of condoms, magnum condoms, ended up on the back of my car? I just want to know who put it there and why.”
    We were standing on the driveway of my little suburban house that looked the same as all the other houses in this middle class neighborhood, I looked at his nametag, ‘Albert’. I don’t think Albert was very bright. He just stared at me under the brim of his blue mailman hat. I kept going through a mental checklist to make sure it wasn’t me. I had my haircut just last week so it wasn’t longer than a few inches. I parted it to the left this morning, brushed, and whitened my teeth, applied the perfect amount of men’s deodorant, and tucked my shirt in. There shouldn’t be anything strange about the way I look. I smelled myself, though, just to be sure. I’m polite to my neighbors, so I don’t see a reason why anybody would need to do that, or what it means. Maybe Albert’s trying to understand what was going on, or maybe he’s thinking of an alibi.
    “Dude, I don’t know what to tell you,” he shook his head and started to walk away from the front door of my house. “I didn’t leave it on there. I’m pretty sure someone just didn’t want to carry it around”
    I had to catch his attention, “Right I would like to think that, but-“
    “Look,” He barely turned his head to look at me. “I have to go. I don’t really have time-”
    “Okay just tell me. Did you leave them there? I’m sure you are aware of the importance of this question now.”
    He continued to walk down my driveway, and just waved a hand at me.
    “No, I didn’t leave anything on your car. Okay!” With that the mailman walked away.
    So that’s one more person off my list. I’ve never really had any excuse to talk to my neighbors so this gets me out of the house at least. Tomorrow morning I know the lady who lives three doors down walks her dog at seven thirty. I’ll ask her. She seems like a nice lady, but it’s always the quiet ones who cause the most trouble. I don’t think she’s liked me since that morning her dog pooped right by my car when I was sitting in it. I didn’t say anything I just watched the dog do its business, and the lady picked it up. She stood up and was startled seeing me watching her from my car. She gave me a dirty look and walked away. I don’t know how to make enemies, but I might have done so there.
    I turned to look back at my car and I saw a young woman walking towards me. I had seen her a couple times before but I wasn’t sure if she lived around here. She had long brown hair that looked like it was badly dyed, and she was holding a pack of cigarettes. She didn’t seem to be focusing on anything until her name was called out from behind me.
    “Erica!”
    “Oh shit,” she said. She hurried by me, and shoved the pack of cigarettes in my hand. She ran up to my neighbor Randy, the one who wouldn’t talk to me, and kissed him.
    “Hey there,” she said smiling up at him.
    He tried to force a smile, but it sank fast. “Have you been smoking?”
    “What?” She was playing the cute game. I can’t believe anyone gets away with it, but it seemed to work.
    “Um... were you smoking?” I could see him trying to hold onto his concern.
    “Of course not.” She kissed him again. Then rocked back and forth smiling at him.
    “Okay, but you smell like-”
    “I smell nice, don’t I?” She had this boy around her finger.
    “Never mind,” he dropped his head and walked to his car with her.
    I knew somehow she was involved with my problem. I had what I needed for today. I walked by his house three times, inspecting it, and thinking about what I was going to do next. I started going to the liquor store by my house everyday after work at four and bought a twenty-ounce Pepsi since that was the time and place I had seen her. I knew I shouldn’t be drinking Pepsi every day, but if I didn’t drink it then I’d feel like a stalker.
    After two weeks I ran into her as she was leaving with her cigarettes.
    “Hey, wait,” I said, catching up to her.
     “Yes. Can I help you?” I noticed the cigarettes were the same kind she’d had the other day.
    “Yes, I hope you can.” I scratched my face and saw her scrunch her nose and start to turn around. “Wait, I’m the guy you gave those cigarettes to the other day.”
     She turned back to me. “Oh hello. My name’s Erica,” She smiled, then grabbed one of my hands and shook it. “I’m not supposed to be smoking, so I didn’t want my boyfriend to catch me with cigarettes.”
    “Oh yeah, Randy.” I said. “Look, I have a question-“
    “Did you smoke them?” She asked
    “Um...” I was a little taken back. I know she must have heard me just say I had a question.
    “If you didn’t, could I have them back?”
    I had to take a deep breath. “No I didn’t smoke them. There are too many chemicals in cigarettes. I disposed of them.” She raised an eyebrow at me. “Look, I have to ask you something.” I didn’t give her the chance to get distracted again. “Did you leave a box of Magnum condoms on my car?”
    Her eyes got big and she suppressed a smile. “Why do you want to know, you an extra large condom guy?” a thin smile broke out.
    “What? no, I just-“
    “Oh,” She paused, and right as I was about to speak, she did. “A small condom guy, I’m sorry.”
    “No, not that either-“
    “Good because I don’t think they make-“
    “Okay look, please...” She was going to make me crazy.
    “Why would I leave a box of condoms on some guys car?”
    “I don’t know. I was hoping you could tell me why you would do something like that to me?” I was trying to stay calm. Remembering to breathe like my therapist taught me. Except he wasn’t a therapist, which probably means that breathing is only going to make things worse.
    She cut me off in the middle of my thought.
    “Why would I do that to you?” Her smile broke out and she covered her face with one hand. She pulled it away, sniffed in a deep breath. “I didn’t intentionally do it to you. I was just mad. Extra large condoms are a lie.” Her face became serious, and she raised her voice. “They are not for guys with big dicks. They are for guys with normal dicks that want to wear condoms that say large on them, and believe me, Randy is nothing special. I was hoping it would fall off him.”
    What was I hearing? I’m with a crazy girl who’s yelling about condoms in front of a convenience store. I wanted to leave, but I felt trapped so I decided to try to diffuse the situation. “Why would you do that to your boyfriend?”
    “I don’t know,” she said calming down. “I guess I thought it would be funny.”
    I must have made some face because she looked at me and almost cracked up laughing. Maybe she’s bipolar. That would explain a lot.
    “Don’t um...” I’m not actually sure how to respond. “Don’t you love him?”
    “Of course I do,” she responded right away. “Well maybe,” she paused. “Actually, I don’t know anymore.” She looked down at the ground. “He’s sweet, and he tries hard. I just don’t really feel anything with him anymore.”
    “Then why do you have sex with him?” I wished I hadn’t asked that. I don’t want to know about these things.
    “Because I like sex.”
    “So you’re just using him?” I was horrified, but the look she gave me was equally horrifying.
    “What the fuck! I’m not using him,” she started to raise her voice again.
    “But you said you’re over him.”
    “I never said that,” she snapped right back at me.
    “You did. You said you don’t feel anything, and you’re being very passive aggressive about it.” I felt pretty satisfied; I think I nailed what was really going on here.
    “Passive aggressive?” She said, adding an insane laugh. All the sudden, I didn’t feel so good. “That’s rich coming from you, stalking me at a liquor store. What are you, like paranoid, or something?”
    “Well” I paused, “I was never officially diagnosed, but then my therapist turned out to be-“
    “Fuck dude, you need to calm down! I don’t need the complication of a break up right now.”
    “Well isn’t being in a dysfunctional relationship more complicated than a break up?” Some people just don’t see the obvious.
    She stopped and looked at me. I saw her mouth trying to open to say something, but then she stopped and looked down. Everything became very quiet.
    “Okay fine. I hate the guy. I realize that I haven’t loved him in months and he annoys the shit out of me. Are you happy now?” She let out an exhale and looked up at the sky. “It’s not like any of this is your business, anyway.”
    “Well you did set the box of condoms on my car?” I wish none of this was my business. She’s the one who brought me into it.
    “Are you fucking serious!!” She started yelling at me. “You are such an asshole. You follow me around, and try to convince me to break up with my boyfriend, which I now want to do, but it’s not that simple.” I started to imagine her leaving the box on my car. It made sense to me now seeing her temperament. I had no idea my neighbors were this crazy. She was still yelling at me. “Will you leave me the fuck alone if I promise to never touch anything of yours ever again?”
    “Well yeah. of course, I didn’t want any of this either.” I was just glad to get to the bottom of it.
    “Fuck you.”
    That was the last thing she said to me before she walked away. She was very calm about it. I saw her fumbling with the cigarette box as she rounded the corner of the liquor store. I could finally breathe again and rest peacefully. This had been a very stressful few weeks, but I could now relax. I thought about kicking my Pepsi habit, but I might as well enjoy one more on my way home.

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