Love Makes my Eyeballs Throb

This is an original work of fiction, any resemblance to actual persons living, dead or
created is merely a co-incidence ...I make no profit from this work and it promotes no
product...thank you!


Hello, nice to meet you? My name is Peter Brady...no, not THAT fucking Peter Brady! I hate that guy and his stupid fucking show, yes, including the new one with that skinny drunken whore. I'm sorry, its just that I've had to put up with so much shit about my name..you know. It really is a pain in the ass...sorry for the rant.
I'm actually a real nice guy...to damn nice truth be told.

Ok, I'm alright now..lets get down to business here already. Where to start? Well, they say all great stories start at the beginning. Therefore, I suppose it doesn't matter where I start. Anyhow, here goes.

The second worst day of my life was the day when my girlfriend ran off and married my dad. The worst day of my life was six months later when she killed him. As bad and/or sad and depressing as those days were, they really didn't make me feel nearly as downright weird as the day I got a phone call.

"Hello?"

"Hello," a female voice answered. "Is this Mr Brady, Mr Peter Brady?"

"Yes it is, what can I do for you?"

The voice cleared her throat and hesitated for a moment...hmmmm, wtf?

"Mr Brady, my name is Vivian Rule, I am a counselor at the Westfield Institute for the Criminally Insane."

"Oh, I see. I think that we already took up money at work to donate towards your new Christmas lights, goodbye." I lied.

"Please hang on for a moment Mr Brady, this is a very important call and has nothing to do with our Christmas program."

"Oh," I said...finding it difficult to mask my disappointment in the fact we were still talking.

"As a matter of fact Mr Brady, one of our clients has listed you as a contact and has requested that we get in touch with you right away."

"Huh, one of your...clients? I don't get it."

"Yes sir, do you know a young lady named Patty Warberg?"

"Errr, yes...err...that is I used to know her. What does she have to do with this call?"

"Well, you see Mr Brady, Patty has been one of our clients here for the last three years and she is doing remarkably well. In fact, she is scheduled for release in a few weeks and she has informed us that she would prefer that you come for her on her release date. She is very adamant that you are the person that she feels is best qualified to meet her needs at that time."

"WHAT in fucking hell are you talking about lady?! That crazy bitch killed my father for crying out loud...why in hell would I want to have anything to do with her evil ass?"

There was a long pause on the line.

"Thank you for not hanging up Mr Brady, please calm yourself sir and hear me out..could you please do that for me sir?"

Her voice was very calculating and actually quite soothing. I regretted my outburst but damn.

"I'm sorry Ms Rule, but this makes no sense at all..I hope you understand how emotional it makes me when someone simply mentions that woman's name."

"Yes, I know there is history there, Patty and I have talked extensively. I know that she is very fond of you Mr Brady. May I call you Peter?"

"Sure...I guess so."

"As I was saying Peter, Patty is very fond of you and has told me so many times about what a great person you are. I honestly believe that her memories of you are the biggest reason she has come through this horrible ordeal of hers as well as she has. And as I said, she has recovered remarkably well. We have even been able to reduce her medications and she is cleared for release. Our best doctors all agree and the date has been set. Now all she needs is someone to give her a helping hand as she re-enters society."

"But Ms Rule...this simply isn't acceptable. I never want to see Patty again, she ruined my life completely. I have my act together for the first time in a long time, as a matter of fact I only just finished therapy myself. I suppose you can take this as a NO. Why doesn't she call a relative or a friend..that would make a lot more sense don't you think?"

"I'm sorry Peter, I suppose you haven't heard that her mother passed away a few months ago. It's Ok though, Patty handled it really well. Her father deserted her many, many years ago as I'm sure you know and her brother...well, he's presently incarcerated at another state facility. Besides, she insists that its you she wants to come for her and no one else. She truly needs you Peter, I hope you can understand what it would mean to her. She is reaching out desperately for your help Peter."

"But aren't there halfway houses for cases like this Ms Rule?" Frustrated, my mind raced through all possible alternatives.

"Sure there are Peter, but Patty says she would kill herself immediately if we sent her to live with strangers. She needs a place that is secure."

"She needs a place......??? WHAT???? Kill herself, I thought she was better?"

"The state will fund the expense for six months, you have nothing to worry about on that account Peter. In addition, Patty will most likely be qualified for extra assistance due to her history of mental problems."

I massaged my eyesockets vigorously. This was insane. How the fuck could I get this lady off my phone. I should have simply hung up on her but I couldn't. Our conversation continued for what seemed like hours. She was very persuasive...Ms Rule. She reminded me of my late mother..further raising conflicting emotions to the surface. I...didn't know what to do, it was all just to much.

At last, as much to get rid of her as anything I said, "I will pick her up...but I'm not at all agreeing to letting her stay with me...I can't see that happening....it would simply be to painful."

Ms Rule seemed satisfied that I had come around to her point of view...albeit not wholly. "The two of you can sit down and discuss that along with the other details, I'm sure that together you will find a solution. Patty said you would do the right thing Peter and I trust her judgement...thank you and have a great day." Click.

Three weeks later I found myself making the two hour drive to the Westfield Institute for the Criminally insane. It felt strange, I was part numb and nervous all at the same time. None of it made sense...that was the only thing that made sense. Trees, houses, and cars rolled past but I hardly noticed. I couldn't stop thinking about Patty although it made me mad to do so.

We met in high school. I was a geek who spent to much time reading comic books. That was precisely what I was doing that day. I was waiting for my bus to return to school for its second load of kids. The comic I had just finished was lying beside by backpack. Just another boring day in my boring but contented life. Or so I thought up to that point in time.

"Would you mind if I read that while we wait?"

I looked up into the deepest, largest brown eyes I had ever seen. They were dark pools of mystery and magnetic energy. "Err..what?" It was all I could manage.

"Your batman comic silly, I just love comics," she said.

"Oh, sure...help yourself...its an old one though. I don't much care for the new stuff."

"Oh cool, where did you get this thing...wow!"

"Ebay of course."

"Shit, wish I could afford a computer." She snatched up the comic and actually seemed genuinely interested. She plopped down beside me. Her skirt was short, real short. Her legs looked incredible, slender but muscular. Oh shit!

"With her head still buried in the comic she put her hand out, I'm Patty Warberg by the way, I'm new, this is my very first day."

I took her hand, it was so soft. "My name is err...err..Peter Brady."

She took her eyes off the comic and gave me a look..."Yeah right, is Marcia still a bitch to Jan?"

"NO, I'm serious, that's my name. Do you think that stupid character on TV is the only fucking Peter Brady in the mutherfuckin' world?"

"Ok, Ok...Peter...I just thought you were yanking my chain..thats all. Take a chill pill already...shit."

I didn't say anything. I just wanted my comic book back but couldn't get up the nerve to ask for it.

Patty stopped reading and stared at me for a long moment. I could feel her eyes boring into me but I kept looking at my shoes. There was a tiny piece of birdshit on the toe of my right foot. I focused on that.

"Look Peter, I'm really sorry...its cool. My name sucks too, I mean, Patty Warberg?....It makes me sound like some psycho nerd. Look, why don't we just walk home and get to know one another. You live right down the street from me. I saw you get on the bus this morning. You were reading this comic and walked right past where I was sitting without even looking up. Why don't we just time some time to chat...I have something real cool to show you...what do you say?"

"But its nearly three miles."

"Shit Peter, c'mon we'll hold hands. We can find a lot of things to talk about on such a long walk don't you think?"

As she said that her tongue licked her lips in a way that got my attention. I didn't have a clue about what it meant but suddenly a three mile walk with her didn't seem long enough.

As soon as we got out of sight of the school Patty reached into her purse and pulled out a cigarette lighter and a weird looking cigarette. "What's that?" I asked.

Patty stopped and put her hands on her hips, giving me another of those searching looks. "You got to be kidding me dude? Man, are you in for a treat."

We didn't make it home until it was nearly dark. It was one of the most wonder filled afternoons of my life. Getting stoned with Patty in the park and taking turns listening to her ipod. Thinking about it even now brings a smile to my face. Anyhow, that's how it all started. Patty was fun, outgoing, exciting, different and sexy as hell. A few days later we had sex for the first time and it was great..really great. Patty seemed to think so too to my utter surprise. "Dude, you got some impressive love equipment right there," she had said.

We dated all through high school. Afterwards, we both went away to college but still managed to see each other a couple of times a month. It was always super when we were together. She even liked comics and video games just as much as I did...and that's saying a lot. But then came the second worse day of my life. Some kid at the dorm came to me and said I had a phone call.

"Hello?"

"Hi Peter, its Dad."

"Oh hi Dad, how are things?"

"Just great Peter, couldn't be better. I got some big news, I remarried."

"Whoa Dad, are you for real. I didn't even know you were seeing anyone. Who is the lucky girl?"

"Actually Peter, believe it or not, its a friend of yours. She dropped out of school a while back and started hanging out here at the same bar I like...I guess her mom was real upset about her leaving school and kicked her out of the house so she sorta moved in with me. Anyhow, its Patty Warberg I married Peter. Isn't that wild? We just up and did it...just like that. On a related front we are moving to Westfield, already have a new house and the old one is sold. Make sure you get any of your old things out by this weekend. The locks won't be changed for a few days. I put some money in your checking account. It should be enough to set you up in an apartment somewhere when school is done. Take it easy big guy."

And that was that until Patty shot Dad. Then that really was that, or at least I thought so until Ms Rule called. Now I didn't know what to think except it seemed that something inside me almost seemed to want this to happen...I think? Why else would i agree to Ms Rule's request? There could be no other reason...maybe, could there?

I stopped at McDonald's and got something to eat. It made me sick, I had to pull over and puke. Shit.

As instructed I pulled into a big parking lot located about a half mile from the prison. There were a few other cars there, waiting like me I suppose, mostly cabs I noted. I suppressed the temptation to give one of the cabbies fare to carry Patty to the nearest bus station. That wouldn't be right, I had given my word to Ms Rule and after all...Patty had only killed my Dad. What was the big fucking deal? Oh shit.

The longer I waited the more nervous I felt. My stomach starting acting up again. I farted and the odor was funky, real funky. Even my farts smelled stressed out. I worked out the half pint in my pocket and took a long pull. It helped so I took another swig. A fat woman in the next car over gave me a dirty look before slapping the hell out of her kid for something or other. Fuck her.

I rarely drink, so after the third and forth hits from the bottle I was reasonably shit faced. That's when the yellow prison bus pulled up. I stared to see inside the wire mesh covered windows but couldn't recognize anybody. I thought that Patty might have been changed by prison life. It seemed like a good idea to get out of the car and stand there so she could spot me.

People started getting off the bus. A few ran to embrace whatever friend or relative that bothered to come for them. No Patty. The engine fired up on the bus but didn't pull away. I could see the driver motioning with his hand for some reason. At last the door re-opened and there she was. She just stood there in a white dress, looking straight down at the ground, seemingly oblivious to everything and everybody. Her hands clutched a good sized suitcase. Her hair was different, a lot shorter, and straighter. Still, it was her, no doubt about it.

My legs were more than a little wobbly. I stuck my head back through the car window and took one more nip to steady myself. It didn't seem to help.

Finally, after taking a long deep breath I shuffled over to where she stood. The driver saw me and the bus roared off, the exhaust fumes didn't do my stomach any good. They should give that damned piece of junk a frickin' tuneup...cheapasses.

"Patty, is that you?"

She didn't say a word. Didn't even look at me, just aimed herself in the direction of my car. She walked right past me to the car. "Wait a second, I got to unlock the passenger side!"

I hustled after her and unlocked the door. My nerves were going nuts. She smelled good. She unlocked the back door of my sedan and tossed her suitcase in the back seat. Then she got it, slammed the door and put on her seatbelt...without looking at me or saying a word.

I got in, fired up the engine and tried to back out, barely missing the car with the fat lady in it. "Look out you asshole!" She yelled and her kid threw me the bird. There was no one else in their car. I wondered why in fuck she was even there...just to make me wreck I guess? "Stupid bitch," I mumbled.

"It was your fault, you're drunk aren't you? That's just great."

Something about the accusing tone of her voiced irked me sorely.

"Fuck you, It's great to see you again too," I said. "I'm not half as drunk as I'm gonna be in a few minutes. IF you want to walk, get your ass out."

Patty didn't say anything for awhile. That was fine by me.

I managed to make it back to the main highway. It was a nice long, straight stretch of road and I was steering great. With my confidence in my driving ability re-established I fished the bottle out again and took another hit.

"Well?"

"Well what? If I want to drink, its still a free country."

"I thought you might offer me a sip Mr Asshole?"

This was not going well at all. All I could feel was pissed, really pissed.

I screwed the lid on the bottle and tossed it in the seat beside her. I tried not to look at her legs but I did anyhow. Patty was one of those girls that almost always wore either dresses or shorts. I recalled putting kisses all over those smooth white thighs of hers on more than one occasion. She caught me looking. Patty then proceeded to turn the bottle up and almost drained it with one mighty gulp. If I was gonna get much drunker I would have to stop and buy some more booze. Shit.

"Why did you do it Patty?"

There was a long silence. I thought she wasn't going to answer. I was getting mad and on the verge of asking again.

"He was drunk, he raped me and then tried to drown me in the bath. I got loose long enough to grab his pistol. He kept coming at me, I even fired a shot past his ear hoping it would get his attention. He didn't seem to care, just kept coming...saying I was one little bitch fixin' to be in a world of hurt. Finally I shot him in the leg, hoping to just slow him down so I could get the fuck past him and out the door. It worked, he fell and I left. I heard him crashing around in the house as I drove off. All he had to do was put a towel or something over the wound to stop the bleeding. He would have been alright, at worse he would have had a limp or something. I never dreamed he would bleed to death...I swear. I guess he was just to drunk to function on any level."

"You could have called the cops and told them about what happened."

"I could have and should have...its not like I have a history of shooting people after getting my ass kicked dammit! I just drove around for awhile. Then I stopped at an ATM and got some cash for gas and a bottle. Then I kept driving until I was to tired to drive. Finally, I just pulled over and slept for a long time in a little roadside park. I didn't wake up until late the next day, turned on the radio and heard the news. I panicked cause they said it was murder. I just took off, it was all just so fucked up...nobody knows what goes through your head when something that horrible happens...its just crazy, that's all."

"Yeah, you must have been really tore up about it all. So tore up in fact that you took off to Vegas and maxed all Dad's debit and credit cards before the cops found your hot little high livin' ass."

Patty just shrugged. "I figured no one would believe my version of how it happened, and later that turned out to be the case. So, I decided the best thing to do was to live it up for the short time I had before getting dumped in the slammer. I don't apologize for that. I didn't have a good time though, no amount of booze, or dope, or gambling can make you forget shooting somebody...and then them dying. Oh God, it was all so fucked up..still is of course. I don't care what you think about me right now. All I ask is just don't hate me quite as much as you're entitled to. That's all I ask right now..please?"

I didn't say anything. I didn't know what to say. Instead I tried to focus on finding some place to get another bottle.

Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*Y*

I found a place with booze. We stopped, I got the bottle and some onion rings for Patty. After getting back in the car I broke the silence. I tried to sound real neutral when I asked my second question. "So tell me Patty, what made you decide to marry Dad in the first place?"

"We ran into each other in this bar where he used to hang out a lot. He was nice at first, buying me drinks and stuff. He had money and enjoyed a good time. I was lonely, you were off at college, Mom was being a bitch, my girlfriends were getting married, having families. I guess I was vulnerable."

"It would have been nice if you'd just filled me in a bit about all that. I didn't know shit until after you were married...I...I guess, as far as I knew you were still my girlfriend. I wasn't interested in anyone else. I guess I just took it all the wrong way...or something."

"I know it would probably be a shock. That's why I put it off until it was to late...and then your Dad broke the big news. Actually I was grateful as fuck to your Dad. He helped me with some big problems...shit you never knew about."

"Such as?" My curiosity and outrage were competing for control of my emotions. I was so thankful that I was good and drunk, having just gulped a fresh shot of bourbon.

Patty fidgeted and reached for the bottle. She took a slug and shook her head in a weird way that I didn't recall from before.

"OK," she began slowly. "I guess we might as well just come clean here and now, I owe you that much. Your Dad helped me get free...get free of my pimp."

Suddenly I was almost sober again and it was a good thing I hadn't as yet gotten back on the highway. My jaw dropped, just when I thought things couldn't get any more stupid. "Wh...what...you had a pimp???"

"Yeah, I wasn't in the business long, I dunno maybe six months or a year. My mother didn't have money like your Dad. I had to pay for my college tuition somehow. Yeah I know it was fucked up but it seemed like a good idea at the time. Fuck a few guys and get paid. Aren't you proud of your slutty ex-girlfriend now Peter? Count yourself lucky that your dad took me off your hands...at least for awhile."

I was truly stunned, it was hard to breath and nearly impossible to speak. "You fucking little bitch! You were fucking me on the weekends after turning tricks for god knows who all during the week. Shit, you never even asked me to use a rubber. I could have caught fucking aids for crying out loud. You obviously gave a big damn about me you fucking slut!" I pounded the steering wheel with my fist and then pounded my forehead on my fist. This was all just to much...way to much. The pit of my stomach was doing wild somersaults. And to think I suspected just this very morning that I might still have some remnant of feelings left for this evil bitch. It was hard to tell who I was most mad at, Dad, Patty, or my own clueless, naive, pathetic ass.

"Now you know why I dropped out of school. No money. I couldn't do it anymore, selling myself like that. It does something to you down deep. The pimp didn't want to let me go cause I was one of his big moneymakers. He came after me one night...he beat the shit out of me. I went over to your dad's place and he took me to the hospital. Then he went out and shot the windows and tires out of the pimp's car...and pistol whipped that bastard. He wound up in the same hospital as me, just a few rooms down. Your dad became my hero and my savior. Problem was, he started thinking I was still sneaking out to turn tricks when he wasn't around. It wasn't true and I don't think that he really believed it deep inside. But then he'd get drunk and shit would start. And now you know the whole sick story...I'm so sorry Peter. I am a slut and a bitch...I deserved that. Its just that I'm so tired of carrying all this around. Its crushing me man. The thing is I want to be a real person again and I need help bad. I need your help.....all I'm asking is give me one more chance...one more chance to find Patty Warberg again and hang on to her. Somehow I know you are the one person that can make me whole."

"Can you drive?" I asked after absorbing everything she said and comprehending little. "I'm going back in the store for another bottle. I have an extreme need to get totally sand blasted. Do you want some ice cream?"

"Sure," Patty said as she wiped away a bit of a tear. "I still have my license believe it or not...they never took it away. First though, lets do this." I was startled to see she had a joint in her hand.

"Where did you get that...you just got out of prison?"

"It's not that hard to get weed inside. Somebody gave it to me as a going away present. Let's get high stud duck?"

I shrugged and farted loudly. "Sure, why the fuck not...fire it up. Let's just finished my fucking annoying brain off once and for all."

"God that stinks you pig, what do you do, take all your fucking meals at Taco Bell?" Then Patty laughed and lit the hogleg. She was always sexy as fuck when she laughed like that...memories of that first time in the park near school came flashing back at me. For some reason I wasn't mad anymore...just confused, very fucking freaked out and confused. But still, kinda excited too.

We sat there for a long while puffing away. It was a fat one and it had been a long while. It was pretty cool, I was drunk enough to keep the paranoia away. For the first time Patty smiled. "First one I've had in years, I used to get tested in there pretty regular. Had to be cool ya know...if I wanted to get out some day."

"Me too," I replied. "You were the only person I ever got stoned with. You always had good connections."

Pretty soon we were giggling like teenagers again, and reliving some old memories of a few of our better parties. "So what lucky girl have you been humping lately Peter? Please don't try to lie and tell me the young hotties have been able to keep their hands and mouths away from that weapon in your pants. I made sure that you weren't married before getting Ms Rule to call you. Didn't want to fuck up things with the little wife. Ms Rule checked it out for me...shes cool like that?"

"I've dated a little bit," I said between puffs. "No wife though, not even close. I never met anyone interesting I guess. And the ones that were interesting didn't find me interesting."

"Hmmmm, Peter, I find all that quite...interesting."

We laughed again. When people are high everything somehow seems...well....interesting.