Spinning

Chapter 25: watch out for werewolves

Eddie didn't show up the next day. I didn't expect him to. He was probably brooding in some dark alleyway, haunted by his own thoughts and possessed by a fury of pain and confusion: my pain and my confusion. I considered not calling him and just allowing our relationship to drift into the mist, forgotten and gently cushioned into oblivion. I did. But anger builds up every time I think about Eddie with Angela, about Eddie ditching me the day after my birthday, and finally, with anger leading the way, I decided to call.

            I had my speech prepared. I couldn't forget any detail. I couldn't allow Eddie's deep voice or his poetic syntax to distract me from my goal.

Hey Eddie. Listen, we need to talk. I can't provide whatever it is you need. I can't be the sidepiece of some B-list musician. I have more dignity than that. I don't blame you, but I wish you would've told me about Angela or Louise sooner, and we could've avoided breaking my heart. I now recognize I'm not the woman for you, even though you sure are the man for me. Good luck with the upcoming tour.

I dialed and the phone rang. And rang. Of course it freaking rang, it's goddamn Eddie, who never carries his phone. And so when the voicemail beep began, I lifted the piece of paper with my speech on it.

"Hey Eddie, Listen we need to talk... I can't... I can't provide... Goddamn it. Fuck this. How could you do this to me? After everything... I thought more highly of you. I still think highly of you, more highly than it would appear you deserve. If your ex-girlfriend is back in your life, then I'm happy for you, but a little fucking warning would've been nice. I can handle this heartbreak. I can't handle men who disappear with no warning or reason. I thought better of you Eddie. Did you forget the darkness? Is Angela the darkness? Am I not dark enough? I hope she gives you everything you need from her, and you never know pain again. Good luck on tour. I suspect you'll hate it."

Oops. That did not go as I planned. My speech lay discarded on the floor and I sunk into my bed, feeling pleased with my harsh words... but only for a moment. I replayed the message over in my head, and hated how cruel I sounded, how desperate I sounded, how I admitted how much Eddie meant to me... I should've remained aloof.

It's now two days after I left the message. Two days. Eddie did not return my call, or text me, or send up smoke signals. There has been no contact of any kind. Could he really just forget about me so quickly? Angela reappears and I disappear into fiction and fantasy?

I've been thinking about Eddie for two days now. Constantly thinking about him, antagonizing about where he is, who he is with, where he is sleeping, what he is thinking, what he is eating, whether his hair is cooperating, whether he changed out of that goddamn brown shirt yet... and whether he has given me even a second thought. My obsession grows as my heart cracks with each new thought of Eddie.

I have to do something. I can't sit idly. Right? My thought process isn't formulated as I descend the stairs two at a time. I dive into the front seat of my Jeep, and I'm off.

Pearl Jam has a show tonight at the Starlight. I know because I've memorized their schedule. I've also memorized every interview they've done for the past month, looking for foreshadowing of Eddie leaving me.

I park the car. The show should be over soon. Eddie and crew will probably leave through the back entrance quickly, assuming there are no post-concert interviews or groupies to contend with. Eddie's truck should pass right by the dark alley I'm covered in.

Eddie's truck flies by a half hour later, much more quickly than I thought it would, and he is driving so fast I nearly missed his rusting doors. I peel out behind him, at a safe distance, and drive intently. And we drive. And I start to recognize our surroundings. I know this place... We are near the hospital right by my work. Yes, there it is... Wait, why is Eddie pulling into the parking lot...