Being Honest Recollections of My Encounter with the Spirit of a Sidewalk Shrubbery and How it Was to Affect My Life, as well as Assorted Contemporaneous Events, as Attested to by Relevant Internal Monologues

These are the words that come to me at night. The way we were. We Were.

We were never together.

The day you left me, you said that it was just your time to go. That you had to get on this metaphorical train that you could feel leaving soon or something, and I was the conductor, or maybe your boss was the conductor, but I didn't have a ticket, so you had to just leave me behind. I wanted to throw something at you, but my mother always taught me to use my words. I looked around for words, and didn't find any, so I just stood there mutely.

Betrayal, that's a word. So is Bitch, you bitch.

You told me that the way we were we could be no longer. Not Are. Not the way we are. No possibility for change, or restitution. No possibility that maybe we could still be, you know, a we, an us, people who would be things. Being things together, maybe. MayBe. We were never together! You never gave us a shot. You rode your damn metaphorical train away from my metaphorical station and I just stood there by a big damn metaphorical clock, probably being metaphorically rained on.

You metaphorical bitch.

I got mugged today. I got mugged in an alley, going home from work, going back toward our ugly, stupid, not-having-you-in-it apartment. And I wasn't mugged by some dude with a gun, it wasn't some dude, some big, tough dude threatening to beat me up, it wasn't some big, tough, black, gangster Dude. I got jacked by a fairy. A little, flying, green dress-wearing, blond, pretty, tiny little magnum gun-toting fairy. Friggin', friggin'... Tinkerbell jacked my wallet.

GOD I'm angry. You Bitch. You cufking Shitbitch, you left me.

I'm walking down the alley, 'cause I'm late for the bus, 'cause these customers wouldn't leave, 'cause they couldn't find their damn Steven Segal movie, and this voice, it's behind me, it says "Yo, punk. Turn around." Sounds like Alvin and the Chipmunks, calling me a punk, so I don't turn the fuck around. I'm late for my bus. I don't need this Alvin and the Chipmunks shit. And she hits me. She threw a potato at me or something. She hit me smack in the head.

When I turned around, she was just hovering in the air. This tiny little woman in a tiny little green dress holding the cutest little .44 Magnum pistol. Scale model, I guess, 'cause .44 actually means something about... whatever...

She's pointing this tiny gun at my head, and she tells me to give her my wallet, and I just start laughing, 'cause it's ridiculous, and she starts laughing, 'cause it's ridiculous, and then she shoots me in the foot, and it hurt a lot. The recoil knocked her back a couple inches in the air, but then she brought it up to my eye, she pointed the gun at my eye, and she said "Shut the fuck up, bitch! No more laughing. No more laughing or I'll shoot you in the cornea. This little baby here can't kill you, oh no, but it can sure make you hurt like fucktown. Now get down on the ground and take out your goddamn wallet before I shoot you in the eye. I will do it. I will do it. I will shoot you in the eye."

She was pretty angry, too, I think. I don't think this fairy was having a good day, now that I look back on it. Not that I know what a good day consists of for a fairy. Probably something about singing songs in a meadow or weaving magical blankets out of unicorn hair, for all I know.

I really didn't believe in fairies yesterday. I really, really didn't. I didn't think you could be mugged by things you didn't think existed, but I guess, well, yeah. If they exist, they can go ahead and mug you.

So here's she is, angry little Tinkerbell, and she's been spitting a little on her harder consonants, so it seemed like a good idea to just cooperate. I lay on the ground and took out my wallet and she picked it up and she flew away. I looked up and saw her fly into some window in one of the buildings, carrying my wallet. I watched her fly into the window, and she disappeared, and I just lay down on the ground with potato in my hair and felt like shit. It didn't smell very good, let me tell you, and I don't think my shirt's gonna get clean in the wash, but I'll be okay. I'll be okay. I just lay in the alley and heard my bus go by and missed you, and my wallet, and my bus, and felt like shit, but I'll be okay now 'cause I'm feeling a lot better.

I gotta call the credit card company and figure out what to do about my credit cards. I don't think fairies use credit cards, but I didn't think they existed yesterday, so I should probably err on the side of caution from now on, you know, fairy-wise.

I really don't want to deal with all this, and that's what got me so angry at first. And then I was thinking about you, 'cause I'm always thinking about you, and that's why I got angry at you. That and you're a bitch, and you left me, and you still owe rent money, and you left your winter sweaters here, and I have no idea what your goddamn metaphor train was all about—Choo choo, last stop before Metaphorville and points stupider! All aboard who Kerrie's willing to let aboard! Choo Choo!—but I'm not really mad at you. I'm mad that my wallet got stolen. I'm mad at you that my wallet got stolen.

Yeah.

I'm still in love with you, you know. It's only been a week. And, I mean, I'm all confused and angry and all that, but then I still love you. You hurt me-a lot-by leaving. And I'm upset. I'm upset because you left me. I think you didn't, I don't know, give me a chance? You didn't give me, like, the benefit of the doubt, or something? I didn't get... shit, to, uh... to like, try to make it work out with us, and try to give you what you wanted, because we were barely together-we were barely together—and you didn't tell me what was wrong until you decided... You decided... to, uh,... to do stuff.

I can't speak anymore. I can't talk. I can't get ideas out anymore. Gone now. You're gone now, and we've been over that, but I, GOD!, I... I... I still love you. I still love you, even though you're gone, and if you weren't gone, that would let me love you in person, in loving, lovely person, person is you.

The way we were we can be no longer. I guess the not, huh? I just don't think we got to be that way very long at all.

I miss you. I miss you a lot, and I

Whatever.

I need to bandage my foot. It's still bleeding a little. But I don't know if I'll be able to get the little bullet out.

It occurred to me that I should be more weirded out that I ran into a fairy. 'Cause they don't exist, right? But, I don't know. I kinda don't care. My whole, I don't know, metaphysical worldview (?) is definitely having trouble now, but I'm not feeling that kind of "whoah" that I thought I was supposed to feel when the world up and changes on me. I just didn't believe in fairies two days ago, and now I've met one. No big deal, somehow.

I'm thinking, maybe, the no-big-deal-ness is just part of the fairy magic. I magically don't care, so that I don't freak out or go tell the cops or the scientists or someone. I guess they'd just think I'm crazy anyway, but I'm not. I just got mugged by a fairy.

Okay, maybe I'm crazy. But I don't think so. I don't think...

Sometimes, when people mug people, they take what they want from the wallet and leave it behind. Like, I don't know, it's a convention. An unspoken agreement between mugger and muggee that, maybe, if the muggee goes back to the scene of the mugging the mugger will have left the wallet there, with things like business cards and photographs that the mugger doesn't want. Things like photographs of the muggee's stupid bitch girlfriend who left him. From that day at Coney Island, when you ate all the

Whatever! Whatever.

I'm going back to the alley tomorrow, with some pepper spray this time, and I'm gonna keep an eye out for that fairy, and maybe the wallet will be there, and your picture will be there, and I know I shouldn't love you anymore, because you don't love me anymore, and because of the whole way we were thing, but I'd really like to have that picture again, and maybe it'll be there, and maybe I can ask Tinkerbell why a fairy would be mugging people in back alleys instead of, instead of, yeah, weaving unicorn blankets or whatever fairies do.

Okay. Good news and bad news.

Good news is I found the fairy. Bad news is no wallet. I think she gave it to a garden gnome or something. She was kinda vague on the details. But very apologetic, which I appreciate.

Her name is Volmina, not Tinkerbell — she laughed when I called her Tinkerbell, in a way that was kinda condescending, but somehow really, really sweet. That kind of laugh that, um, kind of makes you want her to hug you and brush your hair or something. She's that kind of wholesome sexy ladylike—

She mugged me! She's a fairy, and she mugged me. I know it sounds like I have a crush on her, or something, but, I mean, she's a fairy. You're supposed to, like, love fairies, right? I should ask her. But you shouldn't have crushes on people who mug you. That's, like, number two on the list of people not to have crushes on.

It's probably a rebound thing anyway. You bitch.

The deal is this. She's a tree fairy. Somehow, by whatever accident, she ended up attached to one of those sad little shrubs they plant on the sidewalk-I think it's one of the ones on Main in front of Sears-and of course she's pretty miserable. Fairies have a lot of genetic memory, apparently, so she knows all about the life she's supposed to be living, but this tree just isn't where a fairy belongs. There's no community, no natural body of water nearby. There's something about the streetlights that bothers her at night. I don't know.

Yeah, I asked about unicorn blankets, too. Apparently, there's no such thing as unicorns. Fairies yes, unicorns no. Somehow, I find unicorns not existing, given fairies, more surprising than the fact that fairies do exist. Actually, somehow, the fact that unicorns don't exist is bothering me a lot. It's like I miss them, or something. I miss the unicorns that don't exist.

God that's messed up. I'm so messed up.

But yeah, the mugging was apparently not a common occurrence. But this warlock was giving her shit, and threatening her tree, and this sewer goblin offered to shake off the warlock but wanted $54 for it, and she saw the pistol at her gnome-friend's hovel, and just kinda wigged out. Apparently the first dude she mugged only had twenty bucks and a pack of Trident on him — I mean, why do you hand over the chewing gum when a fairy with a pistol asks you for your wallet? — and it just pissed her off more. Somehow, hearing her sob story, I really didn't mind the mugging so much. My foot still hurts, and that's really not cool, but I'll get over it. She's got real problems, you know. Real, magical little fairy problems. So I'm gonna try to, I don't know help her.

I figure if her tree weren't just kinda sitting in front of the Sears, she could probably be a little happier and not have to mug people anymore. I'd like to give her that. I'd like to make her happier.

So, I'm thinking, I'm thinking this. I borrow Carl's pick-up and buy a shovel. (Shit! Maybe I can buy the shovel at Sears. How ridiculous is that?) I figure it'll take me, I don't know, twenty minutes, half an hour, to dig up the tree and throw it in the truck. We drive out to the middle of nowhere, where fairies belong, and we replant the tree. Nobody needs to know nothing, Volmina gets her new digs, and I get to do something, I don't know, good. Take my mind off of you, for a change. You dumb bitch.

"Hi! You've reached Kerrie's cell phone. I'm not around right now, or I'm screening my calls [giggle giggle] but if you leave me a message, and I bother to listen to it, I'll totally call you back, like, really soon."

"Hi Kerrie. It's me. I got arrested for stealing this tree, and I really only get my one phone call, so I really wish you'd have answered the phone. Maybe you're allowed to call me back, I don't know. Anyway, I know we're broken up and stuff, but I could really use your help getting out of jail, so if you wouldn't mind swinging by and helping me out and stuff, that'd be really cool. You don't have to worry, I didn't kill anybody or anything like that. But apparently you're not supposed to dig up those little trees the city plants along the sidewalk. Thanks a lot! Bye!"

Okay. So, maybe, probably, I really shouldn't have called you. But Carl knows I'm here, too, and he might, I don't know, do something about it. Maybe. And maybe you'll come help me. Just 'cause we're broken up doesn't mean you can't help me get out of jail. That seems fair, or something. Fair works, I guess. I don't know.

I really miss you. I really miss the way we were. I really miss being with you, and maybe I thought that if you came and got me out of jail we'd be able to talk, or something.

God, either way, I really, really hope you come get me. I don't want to spend the night here, 'cause it's kinda stinky, and they really weren't very clear on what happens if I don't post bail. I imagine I'd have to miss work in the morning, and I don't think VidiMart would look very kindly on being arrested as an excuse for missing work. Long term, I seem to be looking at a couple months in prison, which won't be very fun, but I'd really like to go to work tomorrow and explain myself.

I probably won't mention the fairy. I don't see that going over very convincingly.

But I mean, I don't know. It still seems like it was the right thing to do, and we got the tree to a good place, so the mission's a success. They just caught me afterward, coming home.

See, I was bringing Carl's truck back to him, and the cops were there, and I pull up, and Carl's like "Dude! Did you borrow my truck to steal a tree with? What the hell?" and the cops were like "Sir, we'll handle this," and they looked at the dirt in the bed of the truck and threw some cuffs on me, and I don't think Carl was feeling very cool about the whole experience. I don't know. I guess they saw the license plate in a security camera, and traced it back to Carl, and he must have told them I borrowed it and would be coming back.

I probably should have called Carl to let him know I was coming. He could have warned me about the fuzz or something. Oh well. We would have had to, like, set up a signal in advance or something anyway, and that would have been pretty complicated.

I'm thinking, this is probably fairy magic again. It has to be. I'm gonna spend a couple months in jail for helping out a fairy, and I don't seem to mind very much. Maybe it's just the shock, and I'll freak out in the morning. That'll be nice. That'll make a lot more sense, freaking out.

You know, when I was young, my mother always told me that my head was too small to fit two thoughts at once. She wasn't very nice, my mother, but I think she might have had a point. I feel like, whatever it is I'm thinking or feeling, I just kinda think it or feel it about everything. When I'm cool, I'm cool, and then tomorrow I'm gonna freak out.

But man, fairy magic or whatever, you are not gonna be happy when you get here. I bet you'll spend the whole drive over here planning your little lecture for when you pick me up. But then maybe we can have angrysex. I don't know. And then maybe we can talk for a bit. Maybe we can talk for a bit about how we can be better, instead of us just kinda being... yeah.

But yeah. I got to the Sears, and Volmina was waiting for me. And honestly, you could kind of tell which tree was hers. It just had this special feel about it. So I dug it up, and she sat there crying, and I threw it in the truck and we left. I think she was crying from the joy of it, mostly, although it seemed like maybe hurting the tree caused her pain, or something, too. I don't know. But she was happy, I think. Really happy.

She got me the photo back, which was really cool of her. She brought me back that photo of you, the one I had in my wallet. She must have gotten it back from the gnome or something. The cops have it now, with my personal items, but it's mine again, and that's good. It doesn't, like, matter, I guess, but I'm really glad I have it again. I miss you, and it's nice to have pictures of you. Even though you're a bitch.

See? I don't think we have to worry about being the way we were anymore. I don't think that's how it goes. Stepping in the same river twice and stuff, you know? I think that, what with being mugged and arrested, and I'm gonna spend two months in jail, I think we can be different anyway. I think we don't have to be the way we were, and we can be something weirder and better and stupider maybe, but different.

So yeah. We dug up the tree, and we drove out to the boonies until we found a place she thought was good, and we dug a hole and I put in the tree, and it was all really, really cool. Only took about four, five hours total, and the whole thing just felt, I don't know, really right.

There was kind of a... thing, I guess, in the end. When the roots were in the ground, she kinda disappeared into the tree and came out again looking much happier. She pulled the gun on me again, and tried to take my new wallet—I think, maybe, for old times' sake, but I'm really not sure why—but I had that pepper spray, so we went all Mexican stand-offy, and I just drove away.

It was definitely a weird way to end our little friendship, but I'm happy. I think it was the right thing to do. And I really shouldn't expect gratitude from women anymore. Not even tiny flying ones. Two months in prison won't be that bad. I'll do a lot of push-ups or something.

You know what? I bet she lied to me about the unicorns. I bet unicorns do exist, and she just told me they don't out of, I don't know... whatever it is. Malice, maybe. I'm thinking, maybe, Volmina was just feeling malicious that day, and there was nothing for her to do about it but lie to me about unicorns. God. What a weird little flying creature person.

But yeah. I really hope you get me out of here. That would actually be really swell, really. Really swell. And we could drive away in your tiny little car, and we can make angry stupid love in the moonlight, and we can talk about the way we were, and the way we're gonna be, and all the terrible things you've done to me since I've known you.

I think, honestly, that'd be really cool.