Thursday, April 9, 2015
The sun was shining brightly … wind blowing my hair from the opened window on the vehicle. God, what a beautiful day! Skip was driving, I was enjoying riding.
I laid my head back on the seat, closed my eyes … opened them in time to see a little house sitting up on a hill on the left-hand-side of the road. I closed my eyes once more …
We came to a sudden stop! In the middle of the road … a big flesh-colored pig with black spots was standing. He looked at us as if he were asking, “what is your problem”?
We were five miles out into the countryside. Houses weren’t close together, excepting the little house I had just seen up on the hill, on the left.
We couldn’t ‘just drive off’ and not save the pig. We should have, but … we didn’t! Damn pig!
Skip parked our vehicle on the side of the road. We got out to make the pig go home … home up on the hill. Or so, we thought! We should have let that damn pig go home on its own!
I told Skip to walk on up the road, and go up to the house to tell the people their pig was on the highway, and someone might hit it with a car. He walked on.
I should have never helped that damn pig! Skip and I are animal lovers to the max. We care about turtles being in the road. That pig was in the road, so … what did I do?
I began shooing that pig up the hill, so it could get home safely. I began walking behind it. I watched its little curly tail wagging like a dog’s tail. He was being so calm, nonchalant … in fact, that damn pig was acting pretty darn intelligent.
We got to the top of the hill, and I saw the little house. Skip was standing, talking to a woman. They both turned to see me, and the pig.
I told the pig to go home … that pig stopped, turned around, looked me straight in the eyes … I swear it grinned, smirked at me … then, turned around, disappeared into the brush. I remember having an uneasy feeling at that moment. I shrugged it off.
I walked to where Skip and the woman was standing. The woman liked Skip … I could see it in her eyes. I felt like I was intruding … that woman didn’t want me there!
I smiled, told the woman I was Skip’s wife. She introduced herself as Marguerite. We ended up talking to her for thirty minutes. I noticed she had use of only one of her arms. She lost use of her other arm when she was young, became very sick.
Marguerite was a lot older than us. She was a little, plump, short woman with dyed brown hair. It was short, also. She had on makeup, eyeliner around her eyes … very red lipstick. I had an uneasy feeling about that woman. Damn woman … damn pig!
Somehow, we exchanged phone numbers, email addresses. In the following weeks she began emailing, calling. She began telling me she was my best friend … of course, she wasn’t. I didn’t say anything … I paid attention, instead. I had an uneasy feeling.
This woman was ‘old, disabled’ … she walked with a limp. It became obvious that Marguerite needed a man! Any man would do! I told you I had an uneasy feeling! That damn-damn pig!
I forgot to tell you that the pig wasn’t even her pig, and she didn’t know whose pig it was! To this day, I believe that pig was the ‘fickle finger of Fate’ … damn pig! My mind always goes back to the moment it turned around, looked me in my face … and it smirked! I remember well … I had my first uneasy feeling, then!
Well, she began calling Skip on his cellphone. Skip would tell me everything she said. At first, it was funny and sad all at the same time … until it began getting serious. Marguerite had a crush on Skip!
We begin to see Marguerite driving by our house, slowing down to look. She began emailing me, she wanted to come to our home, because after all … wasn’t she my best friend? I felt more than uneasy, I felt alarmed. She was crossing boundaries ‘normal’ people didn’t cross.
A letter come in the mail … it was a very thick letter. It was from Marguerite … she had paid almost $8.00 in postage to mail it to Skip. She lived in the next town, so you can imagine how thick the letter was. Oh … I still have the letter put in a safe place … even though this happened 10 years ago.
You wouldn’t believe the crazy things she said in it. She was telling Skip she knew he couldn’t call or see her because she knew ‘Gloria’ was watching him. She loved him, and wanted him to come to her. She hated me, and such things. It was CRAZY … I told you I’d been having uneasy feelings all along.
I forgot to tell you we took her out to eat once … we felt sorry for her. Her family didn’t want anything to do with her. She didn’t have any friends. Why, oh why did we try to help that damn pig?
We should have completely gotten her out of our life … we didn’t want to hurt her. We should have completely cut off contact.
Anyway, we took her out to eat … I remember the moment when it happened … that damn old woman had an orgasm, she began to shudder from it, sweat was on her face. What happened, you say?
We were in my Expedition … it is high above the ground. She slid out from the leather seat, Skip reached to grab her … he didn’t mean to … he grabbed her … in the … wrong place.
He looked at me, made a face! I made a face … and we looked at her … she was gone … she was enjoying what had just happened. That damn pig … it was the damn pig’s fault.
Marguerite wasn’t aware we were there … that touch had sent her off into the throes of an orgasm. I knew then, Marguerite had serious mental problems. I had worked in the hospital on the ward with mental patients.
She was standing there, shuddering … sweating up a storm, eyes closed. We were embarassed, began talking to her to come on, let’s go eat some good seafood. We knew without saying, this would be the last time we’d invite her to go out to eat.
We dropped Marguerite off at her home, got out to help her out. We both helped her. We hugged her goodbye … and be damned! When Skip hugged her … she began to shudder, sweat … her eyes closed. It was awful … we couldn’t wait to get away from her!
Anyway, there is a lot more to this story that old Marguerite did, said. She called me, begging me to forgive her, and all kinds of BS.
One day, she called, she wanted to come up to our home (she knew I was alone … she said she really had something she wanted to give me). I had a big uneasy feeling … damn Marguerite, and damn that pig! I said, “No”. She didn’t like that at all.
A little later, she drove up there … I never went outside. I didn’t feel good about that CRAZY woman at all. I knew she carried a gun. She might have had one one good hand … but, it was a good, strong hand. I was in her way … in her crazy mind … she wanted me out of the way.
I feel the only reason she didn’t try to come to the door was that we had a very high porch (we lived on a little mountain)… and the yard was all natural … rocks, dirt. There was a fence surrounding the house … the gates were locked.
Marguerite drove away with a squeal of her tires! I told Skip, and he told me to watch myself. Later, in time … Skip and I were down at the bottom of the driveway doing some yard work … I was standing up higher on the hill, when a white car stopped.
Skip glanced up at me … it was Marguerite! She began talking fast to Skip, not knowing I was nearby. Skip was stunned … he looked up to me … she looked to where he was looking … and be damned, she sped off!
After a few more calls, emails … that was the last we heard of her. We did hear from people who knew her that she was indeed, crazy. Not only that, she was in a nursing home … her whole body was paralyzed … nothing was working anymore.
You would think I would have been glad of that. I wasn’t. I felt such empathy, compassion for that old lady with one arm. I was saddened that she was in a bad way. What’s worse was she had begged my forgiveness … I didn’t ever give it to her, verbally. Only in my Heart, I had. I could understand something was very wrong with her mind.
It still didn’t change the fact, that she caused a lot of upset in my life. My uneasy feelings were real. I still say, “Damn that pig”! I should have never followed it up that hill.
I should have listened to my uneasy feeling when that damn pig stopped, turned around to look me in the face, and smirked at me … while its tail kept on wagging. That pig was the fickle finger of Fate … through time, I felt sure of that.
Fate … that pig smirked at me. It ‘knew’ the grief I was going to experience in the future … all because I followed its ass up that hill.