The Great Bowery Mystery...

"Before you say a word," I hurriedly said into the phone, giving Kristina not a moment to change her mind and hang up, "let me just say I'm sorry and Heather Mary had no right to go on like she did, and I shouldn't have been such a wimp and let her go on. I feel horrible and I miss you. I wish...I wish things could go back to the way they were before. I care about you, Kristina, maybe even love you. Hello? Hello?" The silence was deafening. "Please say something...anything. Tell me if I still have a chance." Then finally, on the other end of the phone, a soft voice breaks the still, "You are so gay," said Edgar DuHaven.

"What?" My voice cracked, confused and embarrassed. "What's going on? Edgar? What the hell?" But all I can hear is Edgar laughing, "I don't know if there's enough room for the three of us in Heather Mary's bed, but we can give it a try, baby." "Shut the fuck up," I screamed. Edgar replies, "Say it again, daddy, I like it when you talk rough." "Edgar!" I shouted into the phone, "what is going on? Is Kristina with you? Put her on!" But no hand-off would happen, Edgar remained on the line, bawling, "You are such a little pussy, Paul-David, I had no idea. "I love you, I want to kiss you," for the love of God man, grow a pair."

I didn't know what to say. Why was he talking on Kristina's phone, were they together, what the hell is going on?

"Alright, alright," says Edgar, a little more serious now, "enough of the funny, we're running out of time. You need to get over here right away, buddy." "Over where?" I asked, almost afraid to know the answer. "I'm in Kristina's house," says Edgar quietly. "In, her house?" I yelled, "Oh God!" Edgar continued, "Now before you get all red in the face at me, this was all Heather Mary's idea. I'm just being Ethel to her Lucy. And don't worry, Kristina's not here."

Don't worry? That's even worse. It was like a nightmare, "Heather Mary made you...what? Do you do everything Heather Mary says?" Edgar thinks, "She can be very persuasive, but no, not everything, she has quite an imagination...and so limber for a big gal. You every notice how she always smells of peaches? Want to know why?" Wanting off this subject, I shouted, "I'll be right there!"

In a few minutes, I found myself at the door on Bowery. I remembered the last time I was standing at the same spot, a moment filled with such promise. How did things change so fast? I knocked, hoping no one would answer, hoping this was a joke and Edgar was really at home, hidden away snugly in the many folds of Heather Mary, but no such luck. With a swoosh, the door opens, reveling a smiling and welcoming Edgar DuHaven. "Come in," he says, "the show's about to begin."

The apartment was dark but I found Edgar's eyes and glared, "I can't believe you broke in." Scoffing, Edgar replied, "Break? Oh, Lordy, I did not break. I slid. I may have squirmed. I may have jiggled and jimmied, but break?...oh no, my friend. I did not break." I looked down and saw Kristina's cell phone in Edgar's hand. Seeing my disgust, Edgar quickly explains, "Her phone was right there and I'm already out of minutes and...she's got like 2000 rollover minutes. Who's got 2000 rollover minutes? I thinks Heather Mary's right, there's something wrong with that girl." "Why? I shouted, "cause she's got a better plan than you? Jesus! So the girl doesn't like to talk on the phone, big deal. So she doesn't have a lot of friends, burn her at the stake. Yes Edgar, you got a million friends, well, I hate to break it to you but, you spend five years at a Jr. College, you're bound to meet a chum or two." Edgar stopped smiling, "Take a look around, Paul-David, and you can be really mean sometimes, you know that?" Apologies would have to wait.

I walked into the room. Lightless, empty, dusty, void of anything resembling a home. Not curtains, but heavy black and brown sheets covering the massive windows of the room. Walls adorned with gaping holes, exposed wires reaching down from empty light sockets like skinny red and yellow fingers, waiting to snatch up anything that passes by. Cold. Dark. Lonely and sad with just a pinch of anger thrown in. I had always pictured such differences - sunny, colorful pillows, plants, wall hangings with words of affirmations, a framed poster of "Foot Prints in the Sand". Shocked by what I saw, but astounded by what I didn't...no pictures of Lil'Bit. She said there was but I saw none...no where. None on the empty smoke stained walls, none on the filthy mantel above the trash filled fireplace, none on the non-existent coffee table beside the non-existent couch. No pictures, no dog bowls, no comfy pooch bed. She said there was but I saw none. No Lil'Bit.

As I stood in the empty room, reeling from her lies, I heard Edgar Duhaven scream from the next room, "It's Lil'Bit," he cried. "I think I found that damn dog!"