Tendrils of fog curled around palmetto branches, pale and opaque. The forest became a dreamscape. A sterling moon began to ascend, barely a glimmer through thick clouds. Somewhere down the shadowy road, a dog howled - a long and mournful sound. Alyce thought she saw a person standing out on the street, but it was only a dark silhouette, shrouded in mist. Someone was lingering there, pacing back and forth. After awhile, she decided to march out into the road and find out who was loitering outside her house.
She smelled him before she got a good look at him. “Howie!” Alyce exclaimed.
He shuffled towards her, coughing once, then spitting on the pavement.
“What happened? Did Carlene kick you out again?” Alyce asked.
Howie was a shiftless bum with a Hollywood smile and a charming, but slick, personality. He was tall and blonde and handsome. He wore gold chains and tight jeans and smelled of stale whiskey mixed with cheap aftershave. Alyce’s sister, Carlene, had had the misfortune to marry him twice, divorce him twice, then let him move in with her again. Alyce and Carlene were fiery red-headed women. They were plump and pretty and country-tough.
“She thinks she seen me with Mona, her hair-dresser from the beauty shop. I tolt her she was crazy. I wouldn’t mess with Mona. She smokes cigars and stinks like permanent wave.” Howie whimpered.
Alyce knew Mona, as she did her hair as well. Mona was slim, full busted, and very attractive. And, she was always flirting with Howie. And last week, Carlene had caught them kissing in the alley behind the beauty shop. “So Carlene ran you off again! Ha! Good for her!” Alyce crowed. “Why are you standing in the road in front of my house?” she questioned suspiciously.
“Well, seeing as how you’re my sister-in-law, I thought you might have a beer or two that would help ease my broken heart,” he replied, looking as pitiful as possible.
In spite of her better judgement, she softened a bit. “You can come in and drink the rest of that nasty liquor my last boyfriend left here,” she offered.
Before she knew it, he was in the house and rummaging through the refrigerator. “I need a mixer for my drink,” he explained sheepishly.
Alyce gave him a dirty look and got the liquor bottle out of her kitchen cabinet, where she had stashed it. Howie then fixed himself a cocktail and made himself comfortable in Alyce’s lounge chair. “Where’s the remote? Wrestling ort to be on,” he demanded.
Alyce felt the heat rising up her neck as her annoyance grew.
Howie propped his feet up and sipped his drink. “Got anything to eat? Carlene kicked me out before I could get any supper.”
Alyce held her temper, but fixed him a cold bologna and cheese sandwich.
“You forgot the mustard. I always put mustard on my sandwich.” Howie insisted. Alyce fumed, but brought him the mustard anyway. After he had finished off the liquor and eaten two bologna sandwiches, Howie fell asleep in the lounge chair. So Alyce picked up the phone.
“Carlene? Your ex is over here passed out in front of the T.V.,” she snorted. “Did you feed him?” Asked her sister.
“I gave him a sandwich and that nasty liquor my old boyfriend left here,” Alyce answered.
“Good. You can keep him if you want him. I ain’t washing his dirty socks or putting up with his womanizing no more. I’ve had it!” Carlene raged.
“He’s a pain in the rear end. I don’t care if he looks like Mr. America. I ain’t got the patience or the inclination to put up with Howie.” Alyce fumed.
“Well if you run him off, he’s liable to come back here. He’s so dern good looking I’ll probably give in like I always do,” moaned Carlene.
“What should we do, then?” questioned Alyce.
“Let’s give Mona a call!” Carlene sneered wickedly.
