The Ex Files

Convenience Store Pizza and a Wing-Backed Chair

"I won't be able to drive you to work tomorrow," Hal informed Kelly. "The truck is running on fumes."

"It wouldn't be if you hadn't decided to buy pot from some sleazy black marketeer!"

"You know I have terrible headaches, and pot is the only thing that help," Hal whined reproachfully.   "I had no choice.  My doctor refused to give me anything for it. He said it was tension, and over-the-counter products would work just fine, but I know I'm having migraines. Why don't doctors listen to their patients? He can't look inside my head."

Kelly said nothing, because there was nothing that she could say that would change anything. No matter what, this was going to be her last night with Hal.

When they checked into the Earmark Motel, she had written his name on the registration card, with a plausible address in Nipigon.  She handed over the fifty-dollar bill she kept stashed in her purse for emergencies, along with most of her change. $52.50, plus tax. It would have been cheaper if she had paid for the whole week, but even if she had the money, there was no way she was going to stay even one more night. Anything would be better than this fleabag. She hadn't seen any bedbugs so far, but that didn't mean they weren't lurking in crevices, waiting for the opportunity to feed.

They had dined on substandard but inexpensive pizza from the EasyDoesIt Mart across the street, washed down with tap water. Afterwards, Kelly had used the styrofoam cups provided by management to heat up water in the microwave, and dunked the two teabags. She was overcome with nostalgia for Pam's Eternal Evenings tea. The Blue Elephant house, which she had found so revolting at first sight, now seemed like paradise.

Why did I let my temper get the best of me? Living with Hal would have been horrible, but I should have realized that it wouldn't last long. Eleanor is a push-over, but even she has her limits.

I ran away from what I thought was an intolerable situation, and here I am sharing a flophouse room with the very person I was trying to avoid.

Thank goodness for the wing-backed chair and ottoman. It won't be comfortable, but at least I won't have to share a bed with Mr. I-Have-Horrible-Headaches. I'd rather sleep in the bathtub.

Why didn't I go to the gas station with him instead of letting him talk me into an e-transfer? How many times do I have to let him sucker me before I finally admit that he can't be trusted?

Hal curled up on the bed in a foetal position, moaning softly. Was he really in agony, or just soliciting sympathy? She didn't know and she didn't care.

She turned on the TV and scrolled through the channels. She considered watching a sitcom marathon in the hope of being distracted from her unbearable reality, and decided it wasn't worth the hassle. Hal would probably moan and groan and complain about the noise and the flickering light from the screen until she turned it off. If she waited until he was asleep, she might be able to watch something quietly with the subtitles turned on.

She tuned into the Soothing Nature channel with the volume set on low. Hopefully, that would calm the raging beast in both of them.

After a few minutes, Hal started snoring softly. She took off his shoes and covered him with a blanket.

He was still asleep when she left in the morning, taking her luggage with her.