Charlie Ch 01 04

Chapter 1

Charlie stood on the balcony, watching the rain fall from the darkened sky. It made a soft cascading noise that felt vaguely comforting. She inhaled another puff from her cigarette and exhaled it just as easily. Charlie took a moment to think back on some of her past experiences. Sure, there were men that had stirred some feelings within her. There were others that satisfied a few primal needs and urges. However, none in particular stood out in her mind; there just hadn't been the "one." All of the men who had come in and out of her life were simply flashes of faces and bodies. Insert Part A into Slot B.

Being like other females, she always had the fairy tale dream of finding that perfect man, her soulmate. He would be the one who could make her blood boil and challenge her in every possible way. Yet, life had found a way to take care of that fairy tale. Wave the magic wand. Poof! The fairy tale was gone. Mr. Right was not riding a white horse, galloping to her rescue, and he didn't have long, wavy hair like the models on the covers of the romance novels. It was quite the contrary. Mr. Whoever usually drove a modest sedan and was more interested in exercising his right to ejaculate than sweeping off of her feet. No Cinderella. No Rapunzel. No Sleeping Beauty. Instead of the house with a white picket fence, 2.3 kids, and a mutt for a dog, Charlie found herself in an apartment with a computer. She was alone, but it was better than being lonely.

Maybe some day, she would become an archaeological specimen? They will find her corpse preserved in a tar pit. A small sign would read: "How interesting! We have a woman of 29 who has no children and is financially responsible. She didn't take drugs or medications for psychosis, and she had never been married. This was a rare find! Our scientists estimated she was a dying breed indeed. Only a few others like her existed in the world. Unfortunately, the mated pairs could not stand her presence and drown her in the tar."

She turned her head to look back through the window at the dual monitors that sat on an oversized kitchen table in her writing room. The one screen containing her emails held a flashing box. She already knew it was her editor ready to complain about a missing deadline and an absent manuscript. Debbie, her publisher, definitely wanted to have the new manuscript by the end of the month, and she had no problems hounding Charlie for it. It would start with the emails and escalate to phone calls. There were even a couple home visits in the past. The only problem was Charlie wasn't much in the mood for writing. She definitely wasn't much in the mood for any erotic writing where she would have to describe all of the sliding in and out, licking, or moaning. The well of creativity has dried up when her last lover faded from view. No, there weren't any hard feelings or the "why didn't you call" emails. Instead, he was just gone. So much for joining the mated pairs in the world.

Charlie shook her head to clear the trip down memory lane from her thoughts. She pounded the cigarette butt into the ashtray. As she stood up, she noticed Nathan entering his apartment and waved. With a short wave back, he headed indoors too. She moved back into the apartment and sat in front of her computer. Pulling her feet up onto the chair, she played with the hem on her oversized robe. The blaring glare of the screen hurt her eyes. She placed her hands back on the keyboard and began typing. Fate knew what sexual dribble would appear on the screen now.

She had originally tried a few dates here and there. Some of the men should have been wearing helmets and riding a short bus. Others were prime candidates of FBI profiler interviews of serial killers. Others were just there, breathing air with their mouths open. A small minority were good guys who just wanted to be friends. That was fine with her; however, she had enough with the "friends" bit. Friend usually meant fuck buddy, someone to visit late at night and you didn't have to worry about introducing to any friends. As a way to soothe the dating pain, her friends were always bugging her about coming out to the clubs and bars. More often times than not, she played designated driver and babysitter. Those few times she got lit on liquid courage usually ended up in a one-night stand. Even then, none of that sex was really any better than a cigarette, a good round with her vibrator, and a few hours of painting time. Sometimes, it was just easier to keep the batteries stocked up.

Charlie turned off the computer monitors and made her way up the stairs to her bedroom. Dropping her robe, she climbed naked into bed. Okay, as naked as she felt like getting with a pair of panties and tank top still on. There was always something weird about sleeping totally nude that made her feel uncomfortable. As she lay in the bed for another hour, she wondered why sleep often eluded her. She wondered if she would actually finish the story Debbie was demanding. She wondered why she was still standing of the corner of jaded and bitter, waiting for the cynical bus to arrive. She wondered if she would ever become one of the mated pairs in the world. There were just too many things to wonder. Only after she tied her long hair into a pony tail did sleep finally catch her.

Chapter 2

Charlie rolled over in her bed and glared at the clock. It was only 7 a.m. Three hours of sleep! She growled as she sat up and swung her legs onto the floor. Sliding her arms into her robe, she padded down the hall to use the restroom and brush her teeth. While brushing her teeth, her thoughts turned to the new erotic story she had begun the night before. Was it still salvageable? Maybe I could stick in a couple more sex scenes to make it acceptable for Debbie's tastes. She continued to brush her teeth as she moved down the stairs to her office area. She turned the monitors back on and pulled up the copy of the story. She also clicked her email open.

Charlie found three emails waiting for her. One was from Debbie, of course. It was asking when the new story would be ready for submission and editing. Charlie could almost hear the panic in the woman's words. Another one was from her aunt, reminding her of a family gathering that was coming up in a week. Time to celebrate someone else's birthday. It would be the perfect chance to explain again to everyone in the family why she wasn't married and why she didn't want to have children. Other family members would take the chance to comment on her weight and let her know what Dr. Whatever-His-Name said about weight and the likelihood of finding a mate. Nothing like a bit of "forced" family fun. The third email was Nathan, reminding her about their plans for lunch. He wanted to go over the last revision for his master's thesis.

First things first! Coffee was a necessity. She stood in the kitchen, making coffee with the tooth brush still sticking out of her mouth. As the smell of fresh liquid caffeine began to fill her apartment, she went back to the computer and flipped through her music catalog. Something to get me into a writing mood? She switched the disc "Mummer's Dance" by Loreena McKennitt. The music drifted throughout the apartment, providing a sort of soothing lull to her thoughts and giving her a chance to hum. After a quick jog back up the stairs and disposing her toothbrush in its correct place, Charlie returned to the computer downstairs to let her fingers begin their daily writing habit.

The hours seemed too sluggish. By the time she looked up at the clock, she had hoped it would be later in the afternoon. Instead, it was only 10:30. She stretched within her chair and went upstairs to get dressed for lunch with Nathan. A simple t-shirt showing off Mr. Bubble and pair of jeans would do. Considering it was Halloween, she felt like getting into the spirit and donned her matching pair of "bat" panties and bra. Chuckling to herself, she wondered if Batman wore "bat" briefs. Batgirl wear a "bat" thong? Who the "bat" cared? She slipped into the bathroom and straightened her pony tail by running a brush through it. One other quick check in the mirror to make sure everything looked normal. Okay, as normal as it could get. Done.

Charlie jogged down the stairs of her apartment. When her feet hit the first floor, she grabbed her jacket off of the banister and made the turn towards the kitchen. She snagged her coffee cup off her writing desk along the way. As she entered the small area, she let out a loud cough. Nathan's head jerked up from where he was standing at the kitchen sink.

"Just what do you think you are doing?" Charlie asked as she nudged him out of the way of the sink using her hip. She had to smile as he stood there like a deer in the headlights. The food and its expiration dates in his frig were questionable; therefore, her kitchen was the next best alternative to a case of food poisoning. A chicken leg was hanging out of his mouth and a glass of milk was in his hand. Charlie set her coffee cup in the sink and reached for the wash rag to wipe up chicken crumbs.

"Watch them bony hips, girl!"

Shaking her head, Charlie moved away and grabbed her favorite slip-on shoes that were left by the back door. Nathan quickly demolished the chicken leg and downed the milk before Charlie could say anything else about him being a food thief.

"Just who you calling bony?" she asked with an eyebrow raised. Charlie had always been a bit touchy about her weight. Growing up with the nickname of "wide load" was always a convenient reminder that she was never one of the female stick figures used for modeling or beer advertisements. Granted, Charlie wasn't exactly short at 5 foot 10 inches tall, but she was riding on the skinny train either. There was meat on her bones, and she could hold her own with an extra layer of insulation during the winter. Nathan calling her "bony" was his way of trying to ease the trauma of a dysfunctional childhood. He was a good friend that way. Nathan shrugged and washed the glass that once contained his milk.

"I still need to grab my laptop. Be right back!" Nathan yelled as he ran out of the back door. After stuffing her laptop into her backpack, she made it through the back door. While she waited for Nathan in the courtyard in front of their apartment buildings, she leaned her head back to adsorb a few extra rays of the sun. It felt good to roll her head and stretch her neck muscles. Too many hours at the computer was putting her body back into a strange pretzel shape. The sound of a door closing served as warning to open her eyes. Nathan by her side, they made their way down the street to the local coffee house.

Charlie had known Nathan for six years. In fact, they met during their freshman year in college. She could still remember sitting next to him in the hallway of the English building. Both of them had applied for entrance to the American literature program. They were waiting for their interviews with the board of professors to begin. What really struck her about Nathan at that moment was his nervous tick. His leg was bouncing like he was working a weaving loom. Who was she to judge? She had a thing about biting her lip and the time not showing the microwave. Everyone had their own OCD.

They struck up a conversation about the merits behind various poetic forms and the awful pains of reading Shakespeare. She knew they would become fast friends when Nathan clearly stated his complete disdain for Shakespeare in all forms. What better reason to form a friendship than a hatred of a dead English playwright? Both of them were admitted to the American literature program.

From then on, they shared the same academic advisor and had virtually the same class schedule. As time progressed, their friendship became more personal rather than academic. They spent afternoons and evenings discussing the ins and outs of life. He knew about her dysfunctional family and penchant for negative relationships. He had even served as a buffer during some family functions when aunts and grandmothers tried to attack her with questions. Besides, how could he turn down free food and the ability to run defense? She knew about his "whoring" tendencies and love for cheesy romantic ballads. Often times, she heard music streaming from his apartment, only to end up texting him to turn off the sappy crap. If she had to listen to "Holding Out for a Hero" by Frou Frou one more time, she was going to superglue her ears shut. It never failed; he would only turn it up louder and start singing. Oh did the dogs start barking then!

Charlie had her way of running defense for Nathan too. There were plenty of times when she received an early morning text after a drunken escapade, alerting her that it was time. Time for her to save him from some clingy she-devil that talked about how they could date or even one day get married. Charlie would barge into his dorm room to play the "other" girl. This scare tactic was typically enough to get whatever girl was laying on Nathan's bed off and scrambling for the door. Problem solved! One night stand over and mission complete. Agent Charlie was on the case.

When it was time to leave dorm rat race, they both decided to find solace in housing off campus. An apartment was the ticket! Yeah, there was a conversation about possibly being roommates, but Charlie knew there was no way she could handle his lack of organization and long line of new "friends" that would visit for single evenings. Besides, Charlie liked her own space since insomnia had plagued her for many years. It was easier to wander around a house at 4 a.m. by herself rather than worry about disturbing someone else. While her insomnia was the bane of her life, it gave her time to write and paint in peace. Instead of being roommates, they settled on the idea of being neighbors.

It was sheer luck that they had found the apartments they did. It was a small apartment complex with only four units. The four units, forming a rectangle, shared a common courtyard. The first apartment was occupied by an older couple named Burt and Edna. Both of them, being hearing impaired, never complained about Nathan's awesomely loud music or the late night's Charlie and Nathan spent talking in the courtyard. Then again, Charlie and Nathan couldn't really complain when Burt and Edna shouted at one another to have regular conversation. There were plenty of nights that Charlie and Nathan sat laughing as they listened to the couple scream about their interest about meatloaf for dinner or when the grandkids were coming to visit. The best conversation overhead came when Edna couldn't find her dentures. That one provided laughs for days and days.

The second apartment next door to the elderly couple was rented by a flight attendant named Deloris. Deloris came home three or four days a month. Nathan and Charlie took turns collecting mail and watering plants for her. Okay, Charlie watered the plants since Nathan had often murdered the poor leafy creatures. At least with Charlie, they periodically saw the light of day in the courtyard. Sometimes, that was their version of dead plant walking. It was like one last beam of light and a final goodbye before Nathan took over with the watering. At least Deloris didn't own any pets. Charlie had made a solemn vow to herself that she was going to make sure Nathan never actually owned a pet!

The other two apartments across the courtyard were taken by Charlie and Nathan. They never bothered locking the doors. They were constantly walking into and out of one another's spaces. Actually, it was more Nathan walking into hers. Charlie couldn't stand the mess that always seemed to crop up within Nathan's place. She even went so far as to make him watch an episode of Hoarders; yet, there were still books stacked everywhere. Piles of papers littered every horizontal surface. Then, there was the bizarre collection of garden gnomes in the corner of his living room. Who knew!

"Charlie?"

Charlie's head snapped back to attention. They had already reached the local coffee shop. She didn't remember sitting down, and she was nothing but grateful for the cup of coffee already in front of her. Thanks to the insomnia taking its toll, she was experiencing small batches of lost time.

"What did you say?" Charlie asked as she tried to stifle back a yawn.

"How long without real sleep now?" Nathan asked between sips of his steaming latte.

"I got three hours last night. So quit riding me!" she snapped back.

Nathan held up his hands in a surrender posture. He knew better than to continue the conversation about a lack of sleep with someone averaging only three hours of sleeps every three or four days. He had given up needling her about doctors and different alternative therapies a number of years ago. Valerian root, a no-go. Warm milk made her vomit. Melatonin, oh please! Counting sheep, the girl actually got to 143,229 in a single evening.

If anything, he found being supportive came in the form of a carton of Chinese take-out, comfy blanket, and an old 80s movie at 2 a.m. If he could get Charlie off of the damn computer, her chances of actually sleeping improved dramatically. If he could get her to sit still for more than 15 minutes, the odds continued to increase. If she her belly was full and her body warm, then it was "Lights out, Lorraine!" He had no problem letting her curl up on the couch, using some part of him as a pillow. It was even comical at times when she started humming in her sleep or even better when she started talking while asleep. Nathan had no clue was "Buddha food" was or what happened "suddenly, instantly," but somewhere in Charlie's sleep deprived and passed out mind, it all made sense, and that was fine with him. Unfortunately, Charlie caught onto his dastardly "Chinese comfy movie" plan and only let it happen when the insomnia pushed the edges of four days without regular sleep.

"Should we get started with my thesis revision?" Nathan asked as he nudged Charlie's coffee cup closer to her. Charlie recognized the truce and reached to gather her laptop from her backpack.

"I have a few notes about your author choice as support in your thesis. I liked that you finally focused on relationships of plantation owners and their slaves," replied Charlie as she watched her computer boot up.

"My author choice?" asked Nathan as he crammed some type of croissant into his mouth. Instinctively, he held out the last couple bites of whatever he was eating. Charlie reached across the table, knowing that she would probably not eat anything else until much later in the evening.

"You don't have to rely on the classical authors to prove your point. What about using more contemporary authors?" Charlie put a bit of sandwich into her mouth as she reached to type her password. "Other people have already relied on those authors to try and prove similar points."

"Just who do you think I should use?" Nathan looked over the top of his computer with a bit of a stern look. Charlie knew he didn't like be challenged when it came to his master's thesis, but she had taken on the role of sounding board. Sound off!

"Instead of focusing on the narrative of Douglass and novels of Mark Twain, what about using the works of Walker and Angelou? The Color Purple and I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings? The whole dead male thing is a bit tedious."

Nathan sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. It was a look that Charlie was familiar with. It seemed to be the same posture he took throughout most of their college courses. It was like he was distrusted the spoken word and was trying to find some way to argue with it. Charlie continued as she pulled up her newest story file.

"Injecting a bit of estrogen within your thesis makes it more diversified. Their perspectives would feel just as honest. It would also help further prove your point about the evolution of male/female relationships that included racial violence."