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Monday, February 28, 2011

Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 27 Enter The 9th Circle

The cats are very interested in the sink filling with soap and water. I’m sure that some of them have never seen it before so I understand the fascination factor. I pick up whatever resembles a dish and drop it in either the sink or a bag that’s headed for the garbage.
“What the fuck are you doing out there?” he screams from his room. “Something you have never done,” I yell back. He cackles that smoky cackle of his followed by a phlegm filled coughing fit. “Ick,” I think to myself as I look at the yellow walls. It is hard to breathe in here so while the dishes soak, I decide to tackle the litter box.
I take my shirt and pull it up over my nose.  The cat’s have stopped using their litter box long ago and have now taken to whatever space they can find. My philosophy is to just do it and not get caught up in how gross the chore is. If I think about it I will pass out, then I will wake up on the floor in this mess. I decide it is better to remain conscious.
“I cleaned the litter box the other day,” Bobby screams out. “Uh-huh,” I respond. I am sure that he is confused as to what year it is not to mention what day it is. “God damned cats won’t stop shitting,” he adds.” They tend to do that,” I say as I use a spatula to remove a especially tough piece of poop from the floor.
I get up most of the cat shit but the ammonia is burning my eyes, so I decide to return to the dishes. The chore takes about 45 minutes of my time but it’s also 45 minutes that I am not making any money. I am done for today I decide while drying the last dish. I figure I have time for one more chore before I need to get back downstairs though. Walking over I put my hand on the door to the fridge and bracing myself for what I might see I yank it open. I’m not sure what I saw in there but the smell alerted me that something had “gone south” years ago. My worst fear was that I would find severed body parts, this was worse. “Um, Bobby……when was the last time you ate?” “What are you writing a book?” he screams back at me. “Someday I hope to,” I yell back at him “but right now I’m just trying to solve a crime scene.” He cackles followed by coughing up something and spitting it out. Thank god I am not looking at him right now. “I get such a kick out of you,” he says. I imagine him wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.
Walking into the room I come around where he can see me. “I am going to buy you groceries and deliver them tomorrow before I come to work.” For a brief moment I see a crack in his façade but it only last a brief moment and then Bobby’s back. “Are you after my god damned money?” he screams. “Are you after my god damned money?” he repeats this again and again. I wait for the tide to settle. “Yeah, I can see that you are living in the lap of luxury,” I say my face barely moving. Bobby’s hand shoots out and he reaches for his cigarettes. “Everyone is stealing from me,” he says as a tear forms in his eye. I do my best to ignore this behavior because I am not sure how to process it yet. I grab the lighter off the table and light his cigarette. It shakes between his trembling fingers.
I walk back into the kitchen and look for a pad of paper to write down what he would like me to pick up. “Bobby, do you have a pad of paper lying around that I can use?” I don’t get an answer from the other room. “Bobby?” I say again, still no answer. Walking back into the room I find that Bobby has fallen asleep, the cigarette burning in his hand.
I gently take it out of his hands and grind it in the ashtray. I see this as my getaway and gently walking across the floor I open the door and step into the hallway.
To be continued………….

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writting "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.

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