Two less lonely people

Me and Smack Brady met a long time ago. He was seven and his mother had gotten the brilliant idea to loan him out to men for a small fee, so she could support her cocaine habit. Nice, isn't it? First she has the kid in the living room of a crack house. Then she names him after her drug of choice and a television show. Neglects him. Then that sick shit. What's more sick is nobody did a thing about it. The kid needed to know someone was looking out for him so I decided it was time to let him know I was there.

My name is Sammy and people will try to tell you I'm a figment of Smack's imagination-someone he created to block out the pain of his childhood. But I'm not. I'm more like his guardian angel. Only I don't have wings or the power to make things happen. If I did...,Smack's a good guy, a little bit misunderstood, but a good guy.

Like one time Smack tried his hand at working. Ultimately he ended up breaking a broom stick over some chick's head but it was her own fault. My friend couldn't take his break until the tardy bitch got back from hers. Smack was hungry and she was inconsiderate. No one would even listen to his explanation. They just fired him on the spot and then called the police. Lucky for him and everyone else, I was there to talk him through the whole ordeal. He got off with a warning and a week at the funny farm,where he was on his own.

I protect Smack. Not just from himself but from getting his feelings hurt. I convinced him he was a sexy stud. When the girls he hit on said mean things to him, he believed it was because they couldn't handle his manliness. For a long time Smack was waiting for his super model to come along, because only she would know the isolation of being too hot.

I also taught him how to read between the lines, because no one ever means what they say and believing any different is just asking for a pile of hurt. Survival 101, baby. He got real good at it too.

I'd like to say I'm the only one in here meant to protect Smack but there are others. But I'm the one he talks and listens to the most-or at least he did. There's one named Rose. She's pretty silly if you ask me. She's all into love and romance and she convinced Smack to look for love when I was napping. To make matters worse, she talked him into listening to Air Supply. Rose had him blubbering like an idiot. Before I could stop him, Smack sent a letter to Air Supply asking them to write a song about him and his future lady love. Damn bitch. She knew, as we all know, once Smack is convinced of something, he doesn't let it go. She had our boy lost in love. Air Supply-Blah!

I tried to get Smack to stop. One time a cop came to the door selling tickets for a fundraiser. I told Smack the flat foot was actually there to tell him to stop sending all the crazy mail to Arista records but had second thoughts because he was afraid of him. My buddy believed me and was pissed alright. He put the five dollars in his pocket and pulled out a one dollar bill instead. After buying the single ticket when he planned on buying a book of them he slammed the door in the copper's face. I tried.

The other one in here is Carlie. She's not as bad as Rose, she just likes to watch infomercials and pretend she and Smack are in the audience. She has a thing for Ron Popeil. If I hadn't convinced him of his studliness long ago...,he did however often use them in his pick up lines. Like the guy doesn't have enough problems.

Rose and Carlie don't come around too often because they're basically lazy and sleep their lives away when they're not trying to turn Smack into a chick. He needs me more than he needs them. He needs the voice of reason.

Which brings me to why I'm here. Smack's been wanting to write a story, one to bring hope to the masses of stud muffins whose love takes place in their sweet dreams. (Damn Rose!) But the thing is, Smack can barely write a sentence, never mind a whole bunch of them. He's really been struggling with it. The guy's my friend and I don't like to see him struggle so I'm going to tell the story on his behalf. I mean, I was there too and I know all that Smack knows.

He's sleeping right now, so I basically have free reign. I don't usually take advantage of it mind you, but I think Smack will be happy when he wakes up and sees what I've done.

So, here we go. The story of a guy, his moped and a gal, also known as Two Less Lonely People. Heavy sigh.

Smack had an orange moped and he was so frigging proud of it. He called the DMV to see what he needed to do to get his wheels legal. The lady said she had to look up the information. Smack knew she was really saying she was going to make it difficult for him to get his baby on the road. Angry at her audacity, as anyone would be, Smack told her a thing or two. Then went to the corner store to get some answers. But the clerk didn't know any more than the professionals. Yes, Smack was mad, because all he wanted to hear was he could put his pride and joy on the road immediately and no one was telling him that. So he argued with the clerk.

"Well, I could be wrong." she stammered

"You are wrong, Miss Lady! You are all wrong and I'll prove it to you."

All those people wanting to bust Smack's dreams. He was used to it and wouldn't let them, not this time. Not the DMV bitch. Not the clueless clerk. Not even Air Supply if they decided to add their own two cents, which he knew they would if they ever got around to writing his song.

With the grandeur of a king, my boy opened the door to the shed in his back yard. There she sat in all her orange glory. "Here I am." Smack caressed the torn vinyl seat. "But what are we doing standing around here? Let's go see the world together." Smack took the moped out of the shed and started on his way.

"Your helmet, dear," Rose reminded him

Smack put his hand up to his mouth. "Oops, silly me. I almost forgot." He licked the palm of his hand and tried to tame his black rats nest. The he reached into the shed and took out the helmet. "Safety first." Smack said as he slipped the piece of plastic on his head. With that he took his orange moped and went merrily on his way down the road. Bumpity, bump,bump look at Smack go.

He saw her in front of the corner store.

She was an angel walking.

Smack beeped his horn.

She turned.

"Hey, good looking, what cha' got cooking?"

"Loser."

Damn Ron Popeil! What horrible advice he gave in the area of l'amour. But Smack was not deterred. He drove his moped onto the sidewalk in front of her.

She walked around him.

Smack followed her a couple of blocks before she stopped. He felt his heart race. It was the moment. The woman of his dreams would want a kiss for sure and if she was good enough, he'd even let her take his wheels for a spin.

"Go away freak."

The first thoughts in Smack's head were, Damn machismo! It was powerful stuff. Too powerful. He couldn't blame the girl. He blamed God for cursing him with enough sex appeal for ten men.

Smack shook his fist toward the heavens in indignation. "I blame you!" He fell to his knees.

The girl, bless her heart, took the opportunity to escape. Poor misunderstood Smack. If only she knew the torment of his soul.

"And I blame you Mr. Ron Popeil!"

"Yeah, don't use Popeil for the love stuff."

When Smack heard the voice he had to run through for a minute. He eliminated me right away because I'm a guy and the voice belonged to a woman.

Rose? No. Not high pitched enough.

Carlie? Not screechy enough.

When our friend was convinced it wasn't any of the voices in his head, he got off his knees and called out, "But he makes a hell of a turkey baster."

The girl who owned the voice stepped out of the bushes. "Injector. It's an injector."

What a weirdo, Smack decided upon glancing at the girl. Not his type at all.

"Hey, I like your wheels." she said, admiring Smack's orange moped.

"You can't have it."

"I bet you race her."

Unbelievably, the thought had never entered our minds. Smack pounded on his forehead. "Damn it to hell. A great idea and it has to come from," Smack eyed the girl accusingly, "her."

"You mean you've never raced her?"

"I was going to, if it's any of your business."

"Could I watch?"

Smack had to consider for a moment. For the first time in a while he wasn't sure what a person was really saying and Rose was singing 'Making Love Out of Nothing at All', so I couldn't get through to him.

"Yeah. But don't keep your eyes open too much."

"Oh, I know the evil eye thing and all."

How did she know what he meant? No one ever knew what Smack meant in spite of his clarity. "Do you have a gift?"

"For knowing what people mean?"

Smack nodded.

"I wish! Just lucky guesses."

Hmm, Smack thought, she wasn't overpowered by his sex appeal, yet she showed him she knew it was there. Interesting-very interesting. She wasn't a super model but...

"Come on and let's go find a car crazy enough to race this baby."

At a quiet intersection about a block away, Smack found the perfect victim. A blue vintage Transam waiting for the light to turn green.

"Hey, you feel brave?" Smack yelled to the closed window.

The girl stood by clapping, a goofy look of excitement on her face.

Smack revved the engine and when the light turned green, he was off! The Transam turned left. Undaunted, Smack brought his baby up to 20mph and the front tire fell off. He flipped over the handle bars and landed on his head before his back hit the ground. Good thing he was wearing a helmet.

The girl ran over to him. "What a cheater that guy was."

And with those words, Smack looked into the girls brown eyes and we passed out.

We awoke to the girl standing over him. "I'm glad you're not dead."

"Me too." Smack rubbed his helmet.

"I like you. What's your name?"

Smack smiled. Finally someone who said what they meant. "I like you too. Smack Brady."

"My name's Eugenia Freeman."

He raised his eyebrows. "I'd ask you to take my wheels for a spin, but well," Smack snorted.

Eugenia snorted back. Smack snorted louder. She snorted louder. It became a freaking pig fest.

"Enough!" I screamed as loud as I could.

"Enough!" Smack yelled.

Eugenia's snorts became wails as tears fell down her face. Geez, what a time for her not to get it.

"Look what you made me do, Sammy! She's crying. I don't want her to cry. I like her."

"You don't even know her, man."

"You're right but I will know her when I take Miss Eugenia Freeman out on a date!"

Well, didn't that just prick her tiny ears right up. Eugenia, reached out her hand to my boy. "Oh, I thought you'd never ask." She pulled Smack to his feet. "Hey, if it's okay with you, maybe we could go do karoke. There's an Air Supply song I can really belt out."

Smack nodded then gave her a noogie. They started walking back toward the store, the moped forgotten. "We've got to sing Two Less Lonely People, Eugenia."

She smiled. "You are a mind reader, Mr. Smack Brady."

"It's a gift," Smack agreed.

Smack walked Eugenia home. Turns out she lived in the house where she came out of the bushes, within walking distance of Smack's house. Of all the shit luck. I didn't like the idea of my buddy getting messed up with the likes of that one. She wasn't like the other chicks Smack went for. This one actually liked him and she was pushy. Pushy people tend to want to change things and Smack didnt' need any changing. He was doing all right just as he was. I tried to tell him Eugenia wasn't right for him. She'd only use him and hurt him.

"Sammy, Eugenia's a nice lady and it's not like we're getting married, it's only a date for crying out loud."

"Well, I like her dear. It's nice you found someone." Rose put in her two cents.

"He didn't find anyone. It's just a date."

"Imagine if we met Ron Popeil?" Carlie said.

"That would be darling, dear."

"The way he handles that injector..."

"Jesus Christ all mighty, will you broads shut up!"

Smack stood in the middle of the cross walk with his hand over his ears. "Will you all shut up! It's just a fucken date!"

He didn't like it when we argued or talked at once. Sometimes when it happened too much, he'd get really mad and they'd take him away to the hospital. None of us liked that, so we left him alone about the whole Eugenia thing. He might of gotten hurt but right then he was happy about it and that's what was important.

I'll tell you what, you would not have wanted to be me at that damn karoke bar when they went on their date. Smack, I'm used to his ahm, singing and Rose, she's not too bad but you put them together and include Carlie and Eugenia, they sounded like cats in heat, without the melody. I certainly couldn't sleep through that racket, so I was stuck. I was so glad when they took a break.

"I love singing Air Supply. I can't wait until they write a song for me so I can sing that one too." Smack said.

"Air Supply's writing a song for you?" Eugenia was excited. "What are the chances?"

"Well, I've been writing letters for the past ten years asking them to, but I'm still waiting. I might give up here soon."

Eugenia put her hand on top of Smacks. "No, no you mustn't give up. I know, I'll send them letters asking them to write a song for you. When they see there's a demand for it, they'll write it."

That was it. The date was more than a date from that moment on. But just to cement it, when Smack walked her to her door Eugenia turned to my friend and looked into his squinty green eyes. She took in the shit smelling expression on his face then her hand caressed his rough cheek. "You are a very handsome man, Mr. Smack Brady."

"You're no super model, Miss Eugenia Freeman."

She frowned.

"No," he pushed her shoulder, "Stupid, I just meant I always thought no one could handle my hunkiness except for a model."

Eugenia's face lit up and I have to say she was a pretty little thing when it did. It took away the sad, haunted look she had about her. That same look Smack had before I came along.

Eugenia was around a lot and the woman could talk. We got her whole life story. From her perfect little childhood to the mean voices that came out of nowhere and made her do crazy shit. Crap like trying to kill a priest because he was really the devil coming to steal her soul. Everyone knows you can't kill the devil. He's all ready dead, duh. Eugenia was all right though. Or so I thought, until one day it happened-she hurt my boy deeply. They were sitting on the couch.

"I love you." Eugenia said while snuggled in the crook of Smack's arm.

"I know, I'm very loveable. I love you too." He gave her a noogie.

"How come you won't tell me anything about your life? Don't you trust me?"

Smack rested his head on hers. "Yes. I just had a very bad childhood and I don't like to talk about it."

"I told you about me. It's your turn."

Smack sighed. "I, my mother..."

"No, buddy. We don't talk about it, remember?"

"I'm sorry, Eugenia." Smack got up and Eugenia's head flopped onto the couch. "I can't."

She pulled herself up. "What do we got if you can't even talk to me?" her chin began to quiver.

Smack was a sucker for the crying shit.

"Okay. But it's hard."

Eugenia went to him. "I know." She put her arms around him. "But it'll be okay."

Just the thought of talking about it was tearing him apart. I knew if I didn't do something he'd be a wreck. He didn't need to and couldn't go back there again.

"When I..."

"No!"

"He's right, dear. This is not good for you."

"No, no, no, let's talk about popeil instead."

"I have to do this guys."

"No!" We yelled.

"Yes!" Smack insisted.

Rose began to sing. Carlie quoted Popeil and I told him Eugenia was ruining his life.

"Stop!" he screamed.

We didn't stop. We got louder. You have to understand, we were only protecting him from all of the pain and hurt and part of that protection was to avoid the past at all costs. We didn't mean any harm.

Smack was screaming and pounding on his head. Eugenia was crying. The next thing I knew Smack was strapped down and calling out to me.

"I'm here, buddy."

"Sammy, please. I need you. Help me!"

"I'm here, pal. I'm here."

"Rose? Carlie? Where are you?"

Doctors came and went. The term psychotic episode was mentioned. I'd heard that before. It just meant we couldn't talk to Smack until he got out of the hospital and threw the pills away.
And he would have if it weren't for Eugenia coming to see him. She was crying, of course.

"Are you, okay?" she went to take his hand.

"No. I hate being here and it's all your fault." He flung her hand away. "I told you I couldn't talk about it."

Eugenia looked into his eyes. "I don't like it here either. I swore I would never come back again but here I am."

"Leave. No one told you to come."

"I might not of had the life you did growing up Smack, but I do understand what's happening now."

He ran his hand through his over grown hair. "I just want to go home and live my life."

"With me?"

He looked at her intently. "Yes."

"I'd like that but I can't unless you keep the voices gone."

"You don't understand. You're different. You didn't like the voices, I do. They're my friends. If it weren't for Sammy, I wouldn't have survived. And Rose she taught me love and made me look for it. And Carlie, she helped me find it. They aren't bad."

"I'm sorry but I can't..."

When Smack got out of the hospital, he threw the meds away. I told him we should light the bitches house on fire for trying to break us up. He went as far as buying the gasoline before he got himself to the hospital at Roses urging. Love.

That was five years ago. Smack's happy because him and Eugenia got back together. They got married a couple of years ago.

The medication they got him on makes his brain all screwy, and it blocks me out most of the time but I know what's going on. I'm still around. I have to say, the chicks in here drive me insane with their chitter, chatter but when they sleep it's kind of lonely. But like I said, Smack's happy and that's all I ever wanted for him.

It sure was nice feeling needed again, though.