dontravis.com blog post #520
According to Facebook and email comments, readers like Petey and are anxious to see where his story leads.
So let’s see what happens next.
****
PETEY
I kept my mouth shut about the second note. Marco wasn’t exactly making fun of me, but it was close. Another week went by before I got up the nerve to check the stall again. I wished I hadn’t. Right below the second message, my unknown “admirer”—or should that be “stalker?—had written a new note.
Can I take your silence as acquiescence?
Man, I hope so. I can hardly wait! Do you think you can talk your marvy
roommate into joining us? He’s an Okie, isn’t he? Real exotic looking. Must
have some Native American blood.
Okay, that was it!
No mistaking what “Petey” the creep was talking about now. It was me. And
now Marco. I grinned as I took a photo of the scribbling with my iPhone before
scratching through the inked letters. Now we’ll see if Marco still thinks it’s
funny.
He did…
apparently. “Wow! Somebody thinks I’m on a par with you! ‘Marvy,’ he says.
That’s quite a compliment. And, of course, I have to agree. I am sorta marvy.”
“Is that ‘marvy’
with Native American blood, or ‘marvy’ without?”
Quarter Miami,” he
said.
“Miami? You mean a
quarter of you is from Florida?”
“No, I mean a
quarter of me is Miami. Don’t you know nothing about us redskins? Miami’s a
tribe up in the northeast corner of the state.”
“No shit?”
“Absolutely,” he
said.
“Damn, now when
somebody says they’re from Miami, I’ll have to quiz them if they mean Florida
or the tribe.”
“Nah. You’re from
a state, but you are a tribe. I’m from Miami is one thing, and I’m
Miami is something different.”
I shook my head. “Enough
of the bullshit. Back to the stalker. Doesn’t what he said bother you?”
He shook his head
back at me. “You the primary, I’m just secondary.”
“How do you know
he won’t decide you’re hunkier than I am?”
“Well, if he had
any sense, he’d have started out that way. But obviously, he’s mentally
defective and fixating on you. I feel safe.”
“You’re so full of
baloney. I think I’ll transfer to A&M and make you the prime target.”
Marco laughed. “Most likely, he’d just
follow you.”
****
A few days later came the corker. I
avoided the SUB men’s room whenever possible, but sometimes nature demands
attention. I no sooner closed the stall door than I spotted the latest message.
Wow, got an eyeful of Petey at the urinals.
He’s impressive and—can you believe it—uncircumcised. Don’t see many like that
these days.
I’m pretty sure I raised quite a racket
scratching through that one because when I went to the sinks to wash my hands,
a couple of guys gave me odd looks. As I went upstairs, seemed like everyone in
the joint was watching me. Weren’t, of course, but felt like it.
I didn’t tell Marco about the latest message,
but it didn’t matter. That evening, he gave me a lopsided grin and said he’d
heard I’d been “outed.”
“How’d you know?”
I snapped. “And I haven’t been outed.”
“Exposed. Would
that be better? George saw it and told me.” George Harris—no, not that George
Harris—was a Hoosier kid we sometimes bummed around with.
My eyes bugged. “You don’t suppose—”
“Naw. It wasn’t George. Nancy’d pound him
in a hole if she caught him eyeing your butt. Oh, but that wasn’t the part being
described, was it?”
I didn’t have anything in my hands to
throw at him, so I just turned and went in the other room. Didn’t do any good.
He yelled at me.
“Didn’t mention me this time?”
“What’s the matter, you feeling slighted,”
I yelled back.
His answer was a laugh.
****
My stalker was quiet for another week,
then he changed tactics. I was working on an essay for Freshman English one afternoon
and also waiting for Marco so we could grab a bite to eat before heading out to
a bar. I left my stuff on the table and went into the stacks in search of a
particular reference book. Took me awhile to locate it, and when I returned to
my table, I saw a piece of paper sticking out of my notebook. I read the
message on it and felt my cheeks flame as I scanned the big room. Weren’t many people
around, and half of them were females. Then I spotted Marco trudging up the
steps and coming my way.
My first inclination was to hide this
latest note, but on the other hand, maybe he had a useful suggestion.
“What’s the matter with you?” he asked when
he reached my table.
I thrust the piece of paper in his hands.
He scowled as he read the words in a hushed voice, “Petey, you’re driving me
crazy and making me do things I don’t normally do. That’s how handsome and desirable
you are. You’ve got to let me do wonderful things to you. You’ll never
regret it, I promise. I’ll take you to the moon… and beyond to the stars. Sex
will never be the same for you again. Meet me at 8:00 p.m. tonight at the
tennis courts. If you show up, I’ll reveal myself. I hope I can make it until
then without going crazy. As ever, your devoted (and hungry) admirer.” A grin
lit Marco’s face. “Hungry and devoted? Wow, I didn’t know you made such an
impact on people.”
“Shut up, Marco. What should I do?”
“Depends on what you want. You can go meet
him and see if he can deliver on his promises—”
“Asshole,” I snarled.
“Me or him?” Without waiting for a reply,
he continued. “Or you can turn this note over to the campus police. Or just wad
it up and throw it on the floor. What’ll it be?”
I dropped into a chair and propped my head
up with my palms. “I’m not gonna go to the cops. And I’m damned sure not going
to drop the note on the floor. Somebody might read it.”
“So you’re gonna meet your would-be lover,
huh?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But he’s got you curious, right?”
“Maybe. But if I go to the tennis courts tonight,
that doesn’t mean he’s gonna get what he wants. But at least I can face him and
tell him to cool his jets.”
“Maybe. That what you’re gonna do?”
His question pushed me to a decision. “That’s
exactly what I’m gonna do!”
Marco gave me his most infectious grin. “Then
you probably better not hit the bar tonight. Alcohol might impair your decision-making
ability.”
****
Of
all the comments I had on part 1, only one reader answered my question by saying he
(presumably) had never stalked nor been stalked. I asked him to think about his
answer. Had he never gone too far in pressing someone for attention? Had no one
ever done that to him? I believe this is a question you have to think about when
answering. At any rate, how did you like part two?
Tell
me what you think.
Stay
safe and stay strong.
Now
my mantra: Keep on reading and keep on writing. You have something to say…
so say it!
A link to The Cutie-Pie Murders:
https://www.dropbox.com/s/ambxgy7e5ndmimk/CutiePieMurders%5BThe%5D.zip?dl=0
My personal links:
Email:
don.travis@aol.com.
Facebook:
www.facebook.com/donald.travis.982
Twitter:
@dontravis3
See
you next Thursday.
Don
New
Posts every Thursday morning at 6:00 a.m. US Mountain time.
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