CHARLIE HEART

CHAPTER FOUR: ANYTHING?

ANYTHING?

         At eleven forty there’s a knock on my door. I throw a robe on and look out the spy hole. It’s Cassie; her mascara had run all the way down her neck, and her lipstick was smeared. She was in a long torn up summer dress that she probably stole, and her hair looked like a soppy mess.
         I can’t help it, I like seeing her like this.
         I crack the door with the chain holding it from opening up all the way.
         “Oh good, you’re back.”
         She is about to say something then I disappear into the apartment, and in a moment I return.
         “Mr. Muscles forgot his leather biker gloves.” I squeeze the pair out the door crack and they flop on floor.
         “I don’t have anywhere to go, Charlie.” Her voice cracks under the tears.
         “What happened to your place?”
         “I told you already, Something exploded and it burnt down last week, that’s why I moved my things here. I barely had a chance to rescue a handful of my clothes and my cigarettes.”
         I had a great comment to make to that, but I held it back.
         “What about your boy toy?”
         “Are you serious? Charlie, he... Please, It’s pouring rain outside.”
         “Is it?” I turn and look out the window. I honestly didn’t realize, But I honestly didn’t care either.
         “I’ll do anything, Charlie.”
         I savor every little moment of this, what a great feeling. I knew she would be back. I had even rehearsed exactly what I was going to say. So far it was going wonderfully. She was perfect, perfect for something I needed to get done. It was a little earlier than I was expecting but just in time for the job...
         “Anything?”
         She gives me a look that’s a mixture of anger to the brim, and desperation.
         I close the door, unlock the chain and open it all the way. I smile from ear to ear. I can’t help but give her a little pat on the behind as she walks in, she knows she deserves it.
         She sits on my leather couch and lights up a cigarette. I take it from her mouth and toss it out the window.
         She knows I hate smoking.
         She stands up and starts to take off her clothes; I stop her.
         “What are you doing?”
         “What do you want me to do? I’m not really in the mood, so don’t get too creative.”
         “No, no,” I snort impatiently. “I bet you had an amazing upbringing, with loving parents who taught you great morals huh?” I say this like my upbringing was any better.
         She stops and gives me that same confused look I was so familiar with.
         “What do you want, Charlie?
         I raise an eyebrow.
         “I am so glad you asked, sit down.”
         She sits.
         “Okay,” I raise my hands to illustrate. “There is this nice old lady who lives two floors up from me. Her name is Sheila Parkins. I need you to go visit her.”
         She looks at me for a moment. “Are you serious?”
         “Yes, you are an ‘in-house nurse’ coming for an unscheduled check up, she will bring you right in.
         “It’s like, almost midnight...”
         “I’ve seen nurses come and go all the time from her place, at strange hours. I need you to learn every little thing about her. Family, medical history, hobbies, work history, and most important what kind of life insurance she has.”
         “I don’t know anything about how to fake a nurse. This is one of your little schemes isn't it? You are a sick man Charlie Heart. I know what you do.” She covers her mouth in shock.
         “How do you know what I do?”
         “I...” She doesn’t finish.
         “Have you been going through my office?”
         She stares at me like she is in trouble. Like I’m a toaster and she is determined to not flinch when the toast pops out, even though she knows she will.
         “Well, I guess it doesn't matter now,” I say.
         I was going to move on to what I needed her to do but something in me revved like a little steamed up engine. I was getting tired of people hating me for what I did, even if it was Cassie.
         “Look, I offer a great service here. Whether you are rich or poor, no one wants to pay for medical bills. Believe it or not, not everyone can get help from uncle Sam either.”
         I pause.
         “Plus, all their death payout goes to their greedy families that want them dead anyway, tax free. They are the sick ones, not me. But why am I arguing with you?”
         “Whatever, Charlie.”
         “So here is the thing, I own a couple rental properties, you do this you can stay in one for free. Do we have a deal?”
         She rolls her eyes and attempts to light up again, only a woman like her would save her clothes and cigarettes from a burning house, I’m just glad she isn’t a mother.
         “You told me that you are an aspiring actress. Well, this is your big debut, honey!”
         “Why can’t you go do it?”
         “That doesn’t matter,” I say.
         I actually had tried to get to Sheila many times, but for some reason I couldn’t. She wouldn’t let me in, wouldn’t let me walk her to her car, wash her poodle, bake her a cake, or anything. It was almost like she was warned about me. She treated me like a deadly virus. I needed Cassie for this one, almost as much as she needed me right now.
         I give her some scrubs, a box of cookies to take with her as a heartwarming gift, and I kick her out of the door.
         I whisper, “Apartment: forty nine,” as she directs a very unladylike hand gesture towards me.
         I wait up, but she doesn't come back that night. Eventually I slip away and when I wake the next morning she still isn’t back. I look at my watch, I’m late for marriage counseling.