Waldo jeffers had reached his limit. it was now mid-august which meant that he had been separated from marsha for more than two months. two months, and all he had to show was three dog-eared let
And two very expensive long-distance phone calls. true, when school had ended a nd she'd returned to wisconsin, and he to locust, pennsylvania. she had sworn to maintain a certain fidelity, she w
Date occasionally, but merely as amusement. she would remain faithful.
But lately waldo had begun to worry. he had trouble sleeping at night and when he did, he had horrible dreams. he lay awake at night, tossing and turning under neath his pleated quilt protector,
Welling in his eyes. as he pictured marsha, her sworn vows overcome by liquor a nd the smooth soothing of some neanderthal, finally submitting to the final care sses of sexual oblivion. it was mo
An the human mind could bear.
Visions of marsha's faithlessness haunted him. daytime fantasies of sexual aban don permeated his thoughts. and the thing was they wouldn't understand how she r eally was. he, waldo, alone, unders
This. he had intuitively grasped every nook and cranny of her psyche. he had ma de her smile, and she needed him, and he wasn't there (aaahh..). the idea came t o him on the thursday before the mu
Parade was scheduled to appear. he had just finished mowing and etching the ede lsons lawn for a dollar fifty and had checked the mailbox to see if there was at least a word from marsha. there w
Thing more than a circular form the amalgamated aluminum company of america inq uiring into his awing needs. at least they cared enough to write.
It was a new york company. you could go anywhere in the mail. then it struck hi m, he didn't have enough money to go to wisconsin in the accepted fashion, true, but why not mail himself? it was a
Ly simple. he would ship himself parcel post special delivery. the next day wal do went to the supermarket to purchase the necessary equipment. he bought maskin g tape, a staple gun and a medium s
Cardboard box, just right for a person of his built. he judged that with a mini mum of jostling he could ride quite comfortably. a few airholes, some water, per haps some midnight snacks and it wo
Robably be as good as going tourist.
By friday afternoon, waldo was set. he was packed and the post office had agree d to pick him up at three o'clock. he'd marked the package "fragile", and as he sat curled up inside, res
The foam rubber cushioning he'd thoughtfully included, he tried to picture the look of awe and happiness on marshas face as she opened the door, saw the packag e, tipped the deliverer, and then o
It to see her waldo finally there in person. she would kiss him, then, maybe th ey could see a movie. if he'd only thought of this before. suddenly rough hands gripped his package and he felt hi
Barne up. he landed with a thud in a truck and then he was off.
Marsha bronson had just finished setting her hair. it had been a very rough wee kend. she had to remember not to drink like that. bill had been nice about it th ough. after it was over he'd said t
E still respected her and, after all, it was certainly the way of nature, and e ven though, no he didn't love her, he did feel an affection for her. and, after all, they were grown adults. oh, wh
Lly could teach waldo - but that seemed like years ago. sheila klein, her very, very best friend walked in through the porch screen door and into the kitchen. "oh, it's absolutely maudlin o
E." "ach, I know what you mean, I feel all icky!" marsha tighten ed her cotton robe with the silk outer edge. sheila ran her finger over some sal t grains on the kitchen table, lick
R fingers and made a face. "i'm supposed to take these salt pills," b ut she wrinkled her nose, "they make me feel like throwing up." marsha started to pat herself under the c
An exercise she'd seen on television. "g-d, don't even talk about tha
T." she got up from the table and went to the sink where she picked up a b ottle of pink and blue vitamins. "want one? supposed to be better than stea k." and attempted to touch her
S. "i don't think I'll ever touch a daiquiri again." she gave up and sat down, this time nearer the table that supported the telephone. "maybe h e'll call." she said to sheila
Ance. sheila nibbled on a cuticle. "after last night, I thought maybe you' d be through with him." "i know what you mean, my g-d, he was like an octopus. hands all over the place.&
She gestured, raising her arms upwards in defense. "the thing is after a w hile, you get tired of fighting with him, you know, and after all he didn't real ly do anything friday and saturday
Kind of owed it to him, you know what I mean." she started to scratch. she ila was giggling with her hand over her mouth. "i'll tell you, I feel the s ame way, and even after a while,&q
Here she bend forward in a whisper, "wanted to," and now she was laug hing very loudly.
It was at this point that mr. jameison of the clarence darrow post office rang the door bell of the large colored stucco frame house. when marsha bronson opene d the door, he helped her carry the
Age in. he had his yellow and green slips of paper signed and left with a fifte en cent tip that marsha had gotten out of her mothers small beige pocket book in the den. "what do you think i
" sheila asked. marsha stood with her arms folded behind her back. she sta red at the brown cardboard carton that sat in the middle of the living room: &qu ot;i don't know."
Inside the package waldo quivered with excitement as he listened to the muffled voices. sheila ran her fingernail over the masking tape that ran down the cente r of the carton. "why don't yo
K at the return address and see who it is from? " waldo felt his heart bea ting. he could feel the vibrating footsteps. it would be soon.
Marsha walked around the carton and read the ink-scratched label. "it's fr om waldo." "that schmuck!" said sheila. waldo trembled with expec ta- tion. "you might as well o
T," said sheila. both of them tried to flip the stable flap. "ah,&quo t; said marsha groaning. "he must have nailed it shut." they tagged at the flap again. "my god, you
A power drill to get this thing opened." they pulled again. "you can' t get a grip!" they both stood still, breathing heavily. "why don't yo u get the scissors," said shei
Arsha ran into the kitchen, but all she could find was a little sewing scissors . then she remembered that her father kept a collection of tools in the basement . she ran downstairs and when she c
Ack, she had a large metal cutter in her hand. "this is the best I could f ind." she was out of breath. "here, you do it. I'm gonna die." sh e sank into a large fluffy couch an
Aled noisily. sheila tried to make a slit between the masking tape and the end of the cardboard, but the blade was too big and th
Ere was not enough room. "g-ddamn this thing!" she said feeling very exaspe- rated. then smiling "i got an idea." "what? " said m arsha. "just watch," said
A touching her finger to her head.
Inside the package, waldo was transfixed with excitement that he could hardly b reathe. his skin felt prickly from the heat and he could feel his heart beating in his throat. it would be soon. sh
Stood upright and walked around to the other side of the package. then she sank down to her knees, grasped the cutter by both hands, took a deep breath and plu nged the long blade through the mid
F the package, through the middle of the masking tape, through the card- board through the cushioning and (thud) right through the center of waldo jeffers head , which split slightly and caused l
Rhythmic arcs of red to pulsate gently in the morning sun...
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