Johnny Wraith Stories

I stood there at the door with an old Army duffle bag on my shoulder.  Everything I owned was in the bag, or on my body. Only books and clothes. I knocked, knuckles on wood. I could have pressed the button and made an electric buzz.

Some blinds on a nearby window rustled.  The door unbolted and opened.

"Johnny! Just where have you been?"

Debbie threw her arms around me tight and held on.  I dropped the bag behind me and hugged back.

"You know... the women never work for me..." I explained.

"It's sick, but, I'm always happy when you come back."

"Oedipus returns."

"Johnny! I'm only old enough to be your mother."

"Yeah, but remember how I used to call you MOM?"

"That was BEFORE the time we had too many martinis!"

We dropped our arms and clasped hands, leaned back to see one another's faces.

"Then what are you? A girlfriend?" I asked.

"What kind of woman do you think I am? I'm not your mother or your girlfriend. I'm too old for you, and even if I weren't, I WOULDN'T EVER GET SERIOUS WITH YOU!"

"Because... I'm always going girl to girl?"

"You're a slut."

"I don't mean to be.  I want every relationship to work..."

Debbie led me into the house.  It was a big house with sunken floors, a 20' ceiling.  A lake came right up to the patio in back. We headed for the kitchen, went past the big grand piano in the living room.  On it were pictures of Debbie from 25 plus years ago.  Just pictures of her, when she was young.  No one else.  She'd won a few beauty pageants in high school and college.  We passed through the kitchen, went around a corner, and found the bar. She didn't ask what I wanted, just stood there behind the bar, deciding which bottle of wine to share. Debbie rubbed her chin while looking them over.   At the counter I sat on a tall four-legged stool and watched.

"Are you going to get your bag? You just left it on the front steps outside." Debbie said.

"Later, after a few drinks, and we've caught up," I explained.

She picked a bottle out and turned to me. "How long are you going to stay? I get tired of you after a week. The bathroom is always a mess. You start feeling free to fart right in front of me."

"I'll just stay a week then."

She stuck the corkscrew in and twisted. "Then where will you go? You intend to find another girl to move in with in just a week?"

"Naw. I think I'll just rent a cheap place, a room in some house, maybe."

The cork resisted then popped.  She pulled out two glasses, started pouring. "So, what happened this time?"

"You know, this girl has a PhD, in Psychology. That was the problem. She decided I was a sociopath and gave me the boot. I ran the hell out of there with her screaming and yelling, shaking her fists."

"I have a Psychology Doctorate too, you know."

"You're different."

"Older and wiser?"

"And better looking."

"Bullshit, I've seen her, Johnny," Debbie insisted. "So, what, exactly, did you do to get kicked out, this time?"

"It all started last night.  We were watching TV.  The History Channel.  It was about Vietnam.  Some footage of a monk that set himself on fire came on.  The guy just poured gasoline over his head and lit a match.  He just sat there, motionless, while the fire burned his flesh off the bone."

Debbie and I clinked glasses.  It was good merlot. Then she nodded for me to go on.

"So, I made a comment about the monk on fire: ‘What a dipshit!' It just popped out of my mouth. I didn't mean it. Then we had a major argument over my insensitivity. I was called a SOCIOPATH. I tried to explain, but the heat just turned up higher. She chased me out, yelling, shaking her fists."

Debbie slowly shook her head at me, then gave me a smile and a wink. She explained. "You can be very insensitive, Johnny. A lot of people see what Thich Quang Duc did as a selfless feat, a noble sacrifice in the name of peace. By sacrificing himself, who knows how many lives were saved? I think it was one of the most selfless acts in recorded history. I had to live through Vietnam." 

"I understand what he meant to do. It did take balls." 

"It does get complicated."

"Debbie, do you think I'm a sociopath?"

"No, Johnny, you're a good boy. I don't care what the other girls say."