I only took her in because she had nowhere to go and she was beautiful. It as apparent early on that she was also deeply insane. She talked to people who weren’t there, often getting in arguments with them.
She had once been highly functional and even today speaks five languages. She argues with spirits in those languages. She also lives in the bushes and when she’s menstruating, you can see where she’s been by the fact that she leaves a trail of dried blood spots behind.
Back in the days when she worked and had various foreign boyfriends she was even better looking that she is now, but people who knew her then give her wide berth now, afraid she will recognize them and attack them in pubic. I let her stay in my garage. She comes in to use the bathroom and bathe, but she keeps her bag of food and clothing in the garage. I know when she’s home because I can hear her talking in there.
We don’t have sex. Well, I should say we haven’t had sex yet and I have no plan to have sex with her, but I’m not making any promises. If she were acting less crazy for a while and approached me in the right frame of mind…well, who knows what might happen. As for now, I’ll let her stay in the garage a while longer. Until my wife comes back from her trip.
Oh, I forgot to mention my wife. She’s gone a lot. Buying and selling real estate abroad. I’m pretty sure she’d hit the roof if she knew I was letting a crazy, homeless woman sleep in the garage.
I lock the front door at night, but if she were to knock softly and seem sane, I’d let her in. Of course I would. In fact, some nights I find it hard to sleep because I’m waiting for that soft knock. In the ten days she’s been here, I haven’t heard it yet. I notice that she urinates into a plastic wash tub and then pours it down the laundry drain in the morning.
She’s really no trouble. Or at least that’s what I thought until I found her one night in bed with me.
We were both naked. I had just been dreaming about her, and making love turned out to be unusually intense. I don’t think I’d had such an orgasm in many years. As we were lying there afterwards, I heard her talking in French to someone in the corner of the room. I sat up in bed and strained to see if I could discern someone in the dark. There did seem to be something there, maybe just a patch of more intense darkness. Eventually, I fell asleep, lulled by her talking in a language in couldn’t understand.
The next morning she was speaking Chinese to someone outside. But when I looked out the window I could see she was alone. As pleasurable as our sex had been, I must admit I was worried about where this was headed.
Now that she comes and goes into the house itself, I’ve seen more of her behavior which disturbs me. She eats salamanders and strange, odoriferous plants. She rocks back and forth and sings the same droning song for hours, while rubbing what seems to be blood on her legs and feet. Whose blood, I haven’t a clue.
When my wife comes home, she’ll have to leave. Before my wife gets home. I’ll need help cleaning the place. I know the neighbors hire someone, maybe that girl can come over, but my problem is compounded by the fact that I can’t get a hold of my wife and can’t remember when she said she’d be back from this trip. It might be sooner than I think. Maybe I’d ought to act now. But then I’d lose the exciting sex because this crazy girl will not go quietly.
You’d think I should have seen this coming. I’ve been around the block a few times, and usually I know the score. I guess I just got lonely and horny. I never make good decisions when I’m that way. All the bad decisions I’ve ever made have come from when I’ve been sex deprived.
When I told her she’d have to go she merely laughed at me. Then we had sex. In this heightened emotional state, sex was more intense than ever! I began to fear that I’m in over my head, that I lack the strength and decisiveness to avoid disaster. Maybe I should leave. I’ll rent a room somewhere and monitor the situation from afar. Cowardly, yes, but at least it would give me the option to play the role of the innocent victim.
That’s it, I was called away on business and had made the mistake of being nice to this homeless lady I met in our neighborhood. She must have seen me leave with my bags packed and broken into our house.
I was packing my bag when the crazy lady entered the bedroom. “Where you go?” she asked.
“Away on business.”
“When you return?”
“Your wife say you take care of me. How you take care of me if you go?”
“My wife said what?”
“She tell me to come here because she go away for long time.”
“You’ve been talking to my wife?”
“Yes, she say you lonely, horny guy. Need woman around.”
“How did you meet my wife?”
“She give me money one day. Find me sleeping in park. Buy me things. Nice lady. Too bad she bored with you.”
I stopped packing. If this was true, then it changed everything. Even if it weren’t true, it changed the way I felt about what I’m doing. I needed time to think.
She was speaking in German to an invisible person behind the refrigerator when I left the house. I’d be back. I wasn’t sure when, but I’d be back as soon as I got horny enough.