Once Bitten, Twice Shy

Eye to Eye

The air was cold and wet. The sun started to rise, and birds sang loudly. Eddie opened his eyes, his own snoring scaring him awake. "What the fuck!", he shouted, yanking his pants up to cover himself. Steam floated past his lips as his warm breath reached the cold air.

As he made it back to the van, Eddie looked all around for his jacket. He didn't remember driving out here, let alone falling asleep with his dick out. He tried retracing his foot steps, shoveling through trash and empty beer bottles, still not finding the jacket. "I need to stop drinking alone" he groaned.

A pack of cigarettes sat upon the passenger seat of the van. His full lighter was right next to it, and he indulged in a morning smoke. The fire reminded him of her eyes. Who was she? His mind fixated on the image of those eyes as he took a deep drag in. Did he meet some lady at a bar? Did she leave him out here? Maybe Wayne was right. Maybe Eddie needed to grow up.

  Pain swept over his whole body as he punched his steering wheel. He was drunk, but his nerve endings were very sober. Sleeping upright in the woods didn't feel so good in the morning. The glove box held two pre-rolled joints, a small gift from Eddie of the past to hung over and still spinning Eddie of today. The reflection in his rear view mirror was more half-orc monster than Eddie Munson. He barely recognized himself.

  The weed filled his lungs with a stinging tension, causing him to tear up as he coughed on the exhale. A few more hits and he was back to her eyes. Where did he see her? Did he fuck her? Could he?

  Any chance of sobriety for the day was long gone. Both joints were now roaches in the ash tray of Eddie's van. Only Cheech and Chong could rival the clouds dancing out of the cracked windows. Stoned and sore, Eddie started the engine and headed home.

  Wayne was asleep on the couch. The leather jacket wasn't here. There was no sign of the mystery woman, either. The smell of lighter fluid smacked him in the face as he made his way to his bed. Suddenly, it all flashed before him. The gas station, the gun, the way her hands felt on his face. He still didn't really know who she was, but he knew where she worked.

  Naked, Eddie sloppily covered himself up and tried to go back to sleep. It was only 7 AM on a Saturday. This was no time to go out searching for the woman, or the jacket, or to do anything but rest. He couldn't stop thinking about her as he drifted into dreams. She was curvy, she was sassy, she was hot.

  His dreams were a mix of teachers at school chasing him with machetes, D&D characters he could save for a campaign if he could remember these dreams, and her. Her deep green eyes. Her tongue, shiny and pink. Her long hair hanging down to her hips. The look in her eyes when she was going to shoot him. The lines beside those eyes when she realized he wasn't a threat and she couldn't stop laughing. He wanted her. He wanted her to hold him, to pet his thick mane of curls, to comfort him.

  Around noon, Wayne pounded on the bedroom door. "Eddie I'm going to the store, you need anything?" With a protesting whine, Eddie rolled out of the bed and pulled on some underwear and a pair of shredded jeans. "I can go for you, Uncle Wayne. I need to find my jacket anyway." Eddie opened the door and jammed his Metallica shirt into his back pocket. "Can you make me a list of what you need?", he asked. Wayne nodded and sat down to write.

  Was it possible she was made up by his drunken mind? "Do you know anything about the woman who works at Newman's gas station on Fridays now?", he asked, trying to be nonchalant. He bit his lip, eager to know more. "I think I remember him saying he was going to see if he could get some help so he could be an active grandpa. I didn't know it was going to be a lady. Why?" The skin on Eddie's bottom lip grew raw as he tried to think of a reason other than "I want her".

  "Just curious, she almost shot me last night" Eddie laughed. Wayne handed him $10 and the list. The Metallica shirt slid over his shoulders, falling wrinkled upon his lanky frame. "I need to get us an iron" Wayne started, "we don't have to look as poor as we are." Eddie didn't respond. He knew Wayne had too much pride to admit a wrinkled shirt was the least of their worries in terms of finances. He walked out of the trailer, started the van, and lit up a cigarette.

  The gas station was closed for lunch. Newman was inside at the counter, but the door was locked. Eddie knocked at the door, waving and smiling. Newman walked over, mouth full of tuna and mayonnaise, and unlocked the door. "What can I do ya for, kid?", he asked. "Good afternoon. Do you know if anyone turned in a leather jacket last night? I think I may have accidentally left it here." 

  Newsman's eyebrows tensed up as he attempted to remember if anyone had said anything about a jacket. He hobbled behind the counter and pulled out a large box marked LOST N FOUND. There was a set of keys, a couple wallets, and a necklace; the jacket wasn't in the box. Eddie shook his head.

  "That's okay. Thanks for looking. I met your new employee last night. What a trip," said Eddie, trying not to get too flustered at the thought of her. "Ah! She left here wearing a leather jacket. I can give you her address if you want to go check?" Too excitedly, Eddie nodded. "Don't be mean," Newman warned. Eddie smiled innocently, snatched the shred of paper from his hand, and ran out to his van.

  462 Loretta Circle. Eddie knew exactly where that was. He turned down the radio as he pulled into the driveway. A large dog barked at the window. Eddie considered leaving. He could just wait and go see her on Friday again. The dog continued to bark. It was quickly turning into a whining yelp. As Eddie put the van in reverse and started to head back home, she stepped out onto the porch with a bong in one hand and a copy of The Hobbit in the other. He hummed at the sight of her, turned off the van, and opened his door. "Don't shoot," he yelled. She laughed that crazy cackle again and patted at the spot next to her on the porch. Eddie sat down and finally looked into her eyes again, the longing between his legs returning. "You have my jacket," he mumbled.