Bad Monkey

I told Arnelle the hostess I was taking a ten-minute break, but there was no way. Ms. Chase grabbed my hand and led me to her car. We drove to the Bank of America near Oral Roberts, and I got the most epic BJ of all time. She parked in the tellers’ drive-through so nobody could see us, and I swear I almost kicked out the windshield.

After zipping me up she told me how she’d walked out on her husband and drove all the way from Florida just to find me. She said she couldn’t stay long in Tulsa because there’s still a warrant left over from what happened all those years ago between me and her.

She said, “I’m a big-time fugitive, Cody.”

Right away I started getting hard again, but she acted like she didn’t notice.

I told her I had a girlfriend but it wasn’t serious. “She’s a teacher, too. AP English, same as you. Only it’s a charter school.”

Ms. Chase smiled and gave me a long kiss. I had a joint so we smoked it. The car smelled like McDonald’s fries because that’s all she ate the whole way from Sarasota. She said she didn’t waste time in sit-down restaurants—she wanted to get to Oklahoma as fast as possible and track me down.

Her hair looked different because she got platinum highlights so nobody would recognize her from the Wanted poster, which I’d never seen but then I hardly ever get to the post office.

“There’s a big wild world out there, Cody. Are you ready to take the ride?”

“See, they just promoted me to assistant manager.”

“Congratulations.”

“But the boss, he’s a major dickbrain.”

She said, “Life is but the blink of an eye. This is what you’ll learn.”

I apologized for how the trial went down, what I said about her on the witness stand. Ms. Chase said she understood and forgave me totally. I was under major pressure at the time—it was my parents who made me testify and turn over all the stuff I wrote about our love affair. My mom read every page of the diary but she didn’t get most of it, thank God. She literally asked me what a “back-door job” was. I made up something about sneaking into a club.

Ms. Chase wanted to know if I’d ever got married, and my answer was almost but not quite. She told me her husband’s a retired doctor with gobs of money. He knew she was running from the law but he proposed to her anyway, which I totally understand. She said he’s much older than her and also he’s kind of a perv. He likes to beat off while he’s got a belt or electric cord around his neck, which I’ve heard of but sure never tried.

“Who are you reading these days?” she asked.