Angie & Ella's First Novel :: Sliptongue Magazine

Excerpt from Chapter XIV, MISSY MAYHEM & AUTUMN'S CHILL, of the first Angie & Ella Epistolary Novel

by Robert Scott Leyse

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(Angie and Ella are second year associates at a midtown Manhattan law firm. They are fast friends and fond of reliving their escapades, as well as concocting new ones, via email. Angie is 5' 7" and has wavy chestnut hair. Her brown eyes easily flare with emotion, and she has a reputation for being somewhat excitable. Ella is 5' 5" and has raven black hair. Her blue eyes easily flood with silver light, and she has a reputation for being somewhat adventurous. Both, on account of their beauty of face and shapeliness of figure, routinely attract lingering glances.)

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Steven to Angie & Ella
Sent: Saturday, September 20, 2003 6:49 PM

Angie and Ella, I apologize profusely for being out of touch for the past six weeks! And, yes, you've guessed correctly: I've met someone. To be more specific: I've stumbled into an addiction/affliction with a petite princess hellcat by the name of Missy!

Is it love? Ha! It's said love places one in a state of being - reveals a world - unlike any one's experienced before, and I'd be a liar if I said my involvement with Missy didn't do that; but the whole business often strikes me as being despite myself - is sometimes unadulterated annoyance, tantamount to a hurdle that must be surmounted, a gauntlet that must be run! I'm not sure if that's love...

Sure, Missy's picture is always before my mind's eye - causes a swirl of rapture and uneasiness to steadily hum in my breast; but I don't foresee our relationship lasting, because of the frequency with which I contemplate escape! An addict often contemplates escape from the drug that brings about fireworks in his veins, right? Does an addict love the drug he cannot help but crave, or resent it?

Angie and Ella, we've always been friends first, and frolic-mates second - the three of us have always been clear about this. At varying stages of our friendship it's felt like love - it has to be a variety of love: aren't all deep and abiding friendships? - but Missy's intruded, plunged me into a state of disequilibrium that fascinates as much as it repels me! I often descend to detesting her, just as I often experience upwellings of joy; and fist-pumping sensations of triumph; and fate-cursing recriminations that so much energy's being wasted; and... Simply put, I'm not sure if Missy's a blessing or curse - a debilitating trap or fulfilling freedom!

I met Missy through Robert, at a party. He pointed her out on the dance floor and said, "There's a girl you have to meet." Since that first encounter, I've been as good as in a state of seizure!

To explain the enclosed email: Missy lives two doors down from Robert and they're aimiable building-acquaintances, frequently chat in the hall. She sometimes speaks about me, knowing her words will be repeated. The email begins by referring to a circumstance that developed as a consequence of spending last Saturday night with Missy and, from there, evolves into a description of the ups and downs of a Missy night and the nature of my relationship with her. I'm enclosing it (1) so you can get a better idea of what's going on, and (2) because it's easier than writing a new one.

The three of us have always froliced aplenty with others, but none of these people have kept us apart for long. Missy's not only kept me from you for over six weeks, I've neglected to mention her existence. I think I haven't told you of her until now because I keep expecting us to break up soon!

It will be over between Missy and I...eventually. Think of it as an extended fling: no reason for jealously to rear it's ugly head! After all, I've never entrusted Missy with emotional confidences, especially concerning the two of you; and that's the real indication to whom one's closest, right? To whom does one tell everything?

But I'll let the enclosed email speak for me now. Rest assured, my affection for you both will always be unwavering.

Love,

Steven

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Steven to Robert
Sent: Sunday, September 14, 2003 11:21 PM

So Missy's in another uproar? wishing me dead for failing to see she arrived home with her stockings, precious "Pinky Reds"? As if it's my responsibility to gather up her belongings - every accessory gone astray - and see to it she leaves with them! Anyway, thanks for the forewarning that forearms me! I'll be hearing it from her before long, am surprised I wasn't the first to know of Her Highness' displeasure! Then again, she's probably waiting until she's fully worked up! Yes, that's it: she isn't infuriated enough yet, no use letting me off easy!

Another Missy storm's brewing? Big surprise! If it wasn't the stockings, it would be something else - such as I didn't have a dozen roses delivered on Sunday to demonstrate how much I appreciate her; or didn't notice she was wearing a new perfume and praise it to high heaven; or had a trace of a stubble instead of being freshly shaved; or neglected to be appropriately sad when she left! She's reprimanded me for those things in the past, and plenty else - all equally outrageous, a simple case of her dreaming up excuses to be enraged! It's a ritual with her! A night cannot end on a sweet note! Something has to be amiss and, if nothing's amiss, she'll invent something that is! Her Highness demands my every thought revolve around her, regardless of whether she's present; that she be the beginning and the end and all points in between of my attention span: throwing tantrums over nothing is a way of reminding me of the fact! Yes, I must constantly be alert to prevent "disrespectful and rebellious behavior" from making her feel unwanted!

Anyway, I've got bad news for Missykins! Her "Pinky Reds" are in shreds, kaput, deceased! I've already flung them down the trash chute - they weren't fit to wear, on account of being in tatters, not to mention rather crispy with dried saliva and other love juices! I don't believe BratCat doesn't remember! In fact, I'm pretty certain she does remember - that she's only pretending to be frantic on their account, for the purpose of propelling me into panic! I'm supposed to be galvanized to action now, race out the door to purchase a new pair to pacify her; I'm supposed to present them to her as a peace offering, apologize profusely for the destruction of the original ones, plead for Her PrincessShip's forgiveness! Ha! As if I ever indulge her "two year old behavior" (her words), permit myself to be shoved about by her snit-fits! But, of course, that's part of it too: Missy, although she'd die before admitting it, adores my insubordination!

Anyway, here's what happened - it's a quintessential Missy adventure:

This morning she calls me at around two AM, says she's in the lobby of my building, and wants to come up. OK, I'm not doing anything of great import, simply reading Don Quixote for the trillionth time, so I say alright. And, yes, I know I violated my "No Barge In!" policy: allow a female to barge in once, she soon makes a habit of it! Every girl's perfectly willing to become a possessive pest, if one's stupid enough to allow it to happen! Every girl's got just-happened-to-be-in-the-neighborhood mania in her psychological profile! An inch is given, ten thousand yards are taken! Pretty soon the girl thinks of one's apartment as her second home, is clamoring for a set of keys; pretty soon she's dead set on redecorating the place, having furniture she doesn't like hauled away; yes, pretty soon she thinks of one's apartment as her first home, is insisting on moving in! Before one knows it, one's confronted with a lot pining, whining, wheedling crap concerning the fact one's none too eager to share! Before one knows it, one's in the midst of a nasty breakup, dealing with a wailing, rancorous, screaming manic - being called ungrateful, misleading, false-promising, cowardly! Before one knows it, one's got to listen to the "Why do you want to destroy love?" lecture; and the "You really need to see a therapist!" lecture; and the "You're going to end up being a lonely old man!" lecture; and the "Well, you might as well kill yourself if you're afraid of a woman who loves you!" lecture; and plenty of other lectures, all conveniently served up from the point of view of a female who feels she has a right to take complete charge of one's life! So, yes, I do the girl and myself a favor by not allowing her to pop over unannounced, and give that nasty feminine possessive streak something tangible to latch onto! But, sometimes... Hell, a cutie's bright voice on the phone saying she's in the lobby and wants to see me... If I'm not doing much of anything... It's damn near impossible to enforce "No Barge In!" all the time! I am a man, after all! Nookie's waved in front of me? - a hot twatted girl's downstairs and wishes to fun around? What man's always going to be able to resist setting a bad precedent by saying, "Come on up!"?

Yes, following a brief pause, I tell Missy: "Alright, come on up." And Missy, being the vainest hellcat alive, is immediately annoyed at the pause - at the fact I needed two seconds to reflect before agreeing, instead of instantaneously and enthusiastically saying there's nothing I'd like better on earth! Because Missy doesn't ever believe a man has a choice in the matter of being treated to a visit by her; to pause and reflect and then somewhat resignedly say "alright" implies I have a choice and could also say "no" and Her Highness doesn't understand how a "no" could originate from anyone but her! Missy's logic is: "I'm a delectable nymphette who's lusted after dozens of times a day; therefore, such entitles me to undivided attention on demand! Any man I'm demanding attention from is supremely lucky and ought to thank his lucky stars, because plenty of others would kill to be in his place! Men would line up around the block for a chance to kiss me, so when I want attention I'd better get it without delay!"

But, to continue:

"Oh, it's alright, is it?" Missy says with sarcasm, "You know, if you're not sure, I can go visit someone else!"

I can sense Missy's unspoken words over the phone: she's convinced I'm going to exert myself to pacify her. Ha! Precisely because Missy's such a proud and unreasonable princess, there's the constant temptation to go contrary to her expectations and rile her! So I say: "Be my guest! Go visit someone else!"

"You're not making sense!" Missy hisses. I hear her stamp her foot; she exhales with exasperation, continuing: "Don't take it out on me if you haven't slept or eaten, and are cranky! I've gotten pretty for you and am here to see you and, dammit, you're not going to turn me away! I'll stand in your lobby all night if I have to! What will the doorman think? I'll tell him you're a creep!" (Big threat, right? She'll tell the doorman I'm a creep! Ha ha!) Then suddenly, in ineffably gentle tones: "Mommy will feed you if you're hungry, honey. She's here to be nice. Let Mommy come up. She won't bite."

"But I said you could come up," I point out.

"I'll be right there," she says very quick and business like, and hangs up.

So I not only violated my "No Barge In!" policy, I did it with just about the most willful, pushy, prideful, not-taking-no-for-an-answer girl in town! You're doubtless laughing, immensely amused a girl's finally "gotten to" me! But if Missy's "gotten to" me, then at least she's not a drab! If I'm going to be pushed around by a girl, then that girl's going to be jaw-droppingly gorgeous! If I'm going to put up with spoiled princess nonsense, then the said princess is going to be heads-whipping-about-to-gawk-at-her stunning! Missy's not merely cute - cute's easy to come by. Cuties prance up and down the New York sidewalks all day long, one after another, dozens every hour! Missy's beautiful as how Poe describes beauty: "There's no beauty that doesn't contain something of strangeness in its aspect." Missy's beauty is a gasp of awe, punch in the stomach, surge of yearning strong enough to half knock me to my knees! Those blue eyes of hers, and pitch black hair! Her lily white complexion with soft shadows lurking underneath! Her indescribably sweet face so charged with will! Her at once slender and curvy body, perfectly rounded twitchy behind! Hell, you know what I'm talking about!

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