Love Creeps

by Amanda Filipacchi

  “What?”

  “Disney World has accepted your application to play one of the seven dwarfs in their summer production.”

  “But I’m not very short!” Lynn said, slapping her desk and rising out of her chair.

  “No, not very.”

  “That’s really insulting of them to accept me!”

  “Calm down. You shouldn’t have applied if you thought you might get in.”

  “I obviously didn’t think I would get in, Patricia. I’m not short!”

  “Yeah, but height is relative. Maybe they’ll make you act on your knees.”

  “Well, write back and tell them I’ve already committed to playing Mini-Me in a touring Austin Powers production.”

  Early Saturday morning, as they had agreed with Roland, Alan and Lynn were driving Roland’s Jeep to the inn. The leaves were brilliant, red and yellow.

  Jessica, in a rented car, followed them. She had brought all her equipment—binoculars, disguises, Kleenexes—as a spurned woman would. Her radio was blasting as she bounced in her seat, and she occasionally grabbed her big binoculars and looked through them at their car to reassure herself that she was normal.

  She couldn’t wait to get to the hotel and was tempted to tailgate Alan to make him move faster. He was so unobservant, he’d never notice it was her.

  As soon as they arrived, she would waste no time in trying not to get caught by Max. The mere words “get caught” made her let go of the steering wheel and wave her arms in the air to the beat of the disco music.

  Max greeted Lynn and Alan warmly when they arrived. Lynn was surprised that Max had gone back to his old self. His codpiece was on as well as his ruffles. His long hair, of course, could not grow back immediately, and he had not resorted to a wig.

  Lynn made the introductions.

  “Max, this is Alan, the man whose girlfriend I told you about.”

  Alan looked at Lynn. “You told him about Jessica? What did you say?”

  “That she’s a very pretty private detective,” Lynn said.

  Max had been greatly looking forward to Alan’s arrival and the opportunity of doing the opposite of what despicable Roland had ordered him to do. Max had put beautiful satin sheets on Alan’s bed and the most expensive bath products in his bathroom. And the most luscious towels. And flowers and bowls of candy. He did everything possible to put Alan in the most flattering light, figuratively as well as literally. He even had someone come in to give him a massage and a facial. Alan was certainly not averse to the massage. Max explained that it was included in the price of the room. Why Lynn didn’t get all those amenities was a mystery. When asked, Max said the luxuries happened to be included in Alan’s particular room—room 5—not in any other. If you were lucky enough to happen to be the occupant of that room, which was not more expensive than the others, then you got those advantages.

  Max had no desire to give Lynn any luxuries, because even though he had not been as offended by her as he had been by Roland, it hadn’t delighted him to hear that she thought Roland shone next to him in contrast.

  Alan offered to switch rooms with Lynn so that she could get the luxuries, since she was the one truly in need, the stalkaholic. He felt that sensual pleasures would do Lynn good. They always helped stalkers. Alan thought to himself that he should one day write a self-help book for stalkers. The number one advice he would give them was pamper yourself. Stalkers usually didn’t pamper themselves enough. There were, of course, exceptions—cases of stalkers who pampered themselves too much, which increased the severity of their stalking. One needed a perfect amount of self-pampering in order to lessen stalking. Too much worsened it. Too little worsened it. But too little pampering worsened it more than too much did.

  So they switched all their belongings and went out for a walk. By the time they returned, they were astonished to see that the satin sheets, the fancy bath products, and other luxuries, had switched rooms and were in Alan’s new room. There was a note that said, “The management frowns upon guests switching rooms. Switching rooms will do no good. The room will follow him wherever he goes, for the remainder of his days. Unless he is discovered to be a prick.”

  Alan stared at the note, shrugged, and said, “Whatever” to himself, intent on not letting the manager’s quirkiness sidetrack him from the purpose of this weekend. Alan had a plan to be unattractive. Bad clothes, bad cologne. He tried once again to make facial expressions that were “too drastic,” as Lynn had put it long ago. He tried to recapture his nervous body language, but he found it just too disturbing, too frightening, like being repossessed by the Devil. He decided his body language was the only thing he would not mess with, for that was too dearly earned. Instead, he focused on speaking well of Roland. “He’s energetic. He has a great metabolism. He’s tan. He’s French. Oh! And he used to beat me at racquetball every single time!”

  During lunch, Max sat with Lynn and Alan while they ate the grilled salmon he had prepared for them. Max praised Alan incessantly, pointing things out to Lynn about Alan that he thought were wonderful. Lynn agreed completely.

  As for Jessica, she roamed the hotel, spying. She kept trying not to get caught by Max, and he kept not catching her. She tried spying more vigorously, but she still didn’t get caught. So she spied so fervently that she barely hid. And Max finally caught a glimpse of her at 3:00 P.M. in the sitting room, wearing a black miniskirt and two pairs of binoculars dangling around her neck. She fled behind the sitting room’s heavy door.

  Max approached her and asked, “Why are you hiding?”

  “I’m spying on my boyfriend.”

  “Do you want me to help you?”

  “No. I just really, really don’t want you to tell him about it. I would do anything so that you not tell him.”

  After a few seconds, he said, “Oh.” Not sure what to say, he finally just said, “Anything?”

  “Yes. That’s how much I don’t want you to tell him.”

  It was only then that Max realized this woman might be Alan’s girlfriend, the terrific sex addict whom Lynn had raved about. “You wouldn’t, by any chance, be Alan’s girlfriend, would you?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  He frowned. He appreciated the situation she had set up for him.

  “I highly disapprove of spying. So the price may be high.”

  “I know,” she said, lowering her eyes bashfully and even managing to blush a little.

  He was impressed.

  “You may not be ready for what I have in mind,” he said.

  She kept her eyes lowered.

  “It may involve bringing my repulsive person near you.” He took a step forward.

  “You are not repulsive,” she said, softly.

  “Oh no? Flattery will not lighten your sentence, you know.”

  “I know.”

  His body was now very close to hers, and he dared to bring his hand under her skirt.

  “Where is your underwear?” he asked.

  “I lost it.”

  “Where?”

  “In the garden. It fell off when I was spying. I didn’t have time to retrieve it.”

  “How unfortunate for you. That will not help your case.”

  He pressed her back against the wall, behind the door, and unhooked his codpiece. He whipped a condom out of his pocket and slipped it on.

  He slid his erection under her skirt, between her legs, and pushed himself into her.

  She had a startled, helpless expression on her face. Her eyes were open wide; her eyebrows downward slopes of sorrow. Her lovely lips were parted, looking innocently shocked. He moved himself in and out of her. Slowly. Every time he pushed himself in, there was a sharp intake of breath on her part. Dismay. He appreciated her acting.

  They could hear people talking in the hallway, right outside the sitting room. He slowed his movements even more, but did not stop them completely. Her legs were barely parted.

  “I am far from done with you,” Max whispered in Jessica’s ear, and pul
led himself out.

  He took her to an empty bedroom and told her to stay there. He said he had some work to do, that he’d be back.

  Roland couldn’t take it anymore. Getting reports from Max by phone was no longer placating. Roland needed reports every half hour, or an average of twelve times in six hours, and Max had agreed to this, and despite having agreed, Max only answered his cell phone half the time. So Roland decided he had to come to the inn and see for himself how things were going. He would see if Alan was trustworthy, making himself disgusting to Lynn.

  At 4:00 P.M. Roland rented a car and started his journey.

  When Lynn mentioned having fed the raccoons her first time at the inn, Alan got excited and said he wanted to go and feed them, too.

  “But one bit me,” she warned. “They can have rabies. I had to get six shots over the course of a month.”

  His desire to feed raccoons was greater than his fear of rabies and greater than his desire to seem unappealing.

  “I don’t care,” he said. “I’m going to feed some raccoons. You don’t have to come with me.”

  They had fun feeding raccoons, and Lynn found him very appealing.

  Jessica waited in the room for Max. Finally, he opened the door. She found him surprisingly handsome at that moment.

  She was sitting at the desk. He sat on another chair, near the bed.

  “Have you seen any good movies lately?” he asked.

  And he asked her where she wanted to travel and what hobbies she had. She didn’t understand why he was toying with her. He knew why she was here.

  She got up, walked over to him, leaned down, and gently kissed him on the lips. They liked each other quite a lot. He got up and said he had to leave again to tend to something in the hotel.

  She remained in the room, perplexed, wondering what she should do.

  Ten minutes later he came back, took off his codpiece, donned a condom, lifted Jessica in the air, and impaled her with his erection.

  “Life is too short not to have sex all the time, don’t you think?” he said.

  “Yes,” she agreed.

  Alan and Lynn, seated next to an open window, were eating dinner while Max buzzed around their table, being friendly, serving steak and baked potatoes to them and the two other couples. The air was unusually warm and pleasant for an October evening. Hiding right outside, in the darkness, dropping a penny, was Roland. He could hear every word they said.

  Roland was stunned when he saw Max sit at their table and say, “You guys really make an excellent couple.”

  Roland yanked out his cell phone and dialed Max’s cell number. He saw Max look at his ringing phone, sigh, and say to them, “It’s him again.”

  “Hello?” Max answered the phone, kindly.

  “Are you with them right now?” Roland asked, as he always did, except now his voice was a tight whisper.

  “Yes,” Max said.

  “Okay, so I’ll only ask you yes or no questions.”

  “Okay. Why are you whispering?”

  “Because I’m … in a public place … in a bookstore.”

  “Ah, I see,” Max said, then placed his hand over the mouthpiece and said to Alan and Lynn, “Roland is hounding me with questions about you guys. So pathhhhhetic.”

  Roland heard him through the open window.

  “Hello? Are you still there?” Max asked into the receiver.

  “Yes,” Roland whispered.

  “What else do you want to know?”

  “Are you treating them badly?” Roland asked, feeling weak.

  “Oh, yes!” Max replied, pouring Alan more wine.

  Roland winced in the darkness. After a pause, he asked, “Are they having fun?”

  “No,” Max answered.

  “Does Lynn … seem to like him?”

  “Lord, no.” Max put his hand over the mouthpiece again and said to Alan and Lynn, “Can you believe it? He’s asking me if you guys have had sex yet!”

  Outside, Roland felt faint. “Okay, thank you,” he said.

  “That’s it?” Max asked, sounding almost disappointed.

  “Yes, thank you for all your help.” Roland hung up. He had known for most of his life that he was probably not the nicest sort of person. Nevertheless, he never thought he’d have an urge to kill anyone other than himself. But suddenly, to his dismay, nothing seemed more important than to kill Max. The necessity and certainty of the act made him feel helpless, and he resigned himself to it.

  Sunday afternoon, Lynn and Alan were lying by the pool.

  Flipping through a fashion magazine, Lynn asked him, “If you didn’t have a girlfriend, would you be interested in me?”

  “Romantically?”

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  “Why?” she asked, shocked.

  “Because that would be taking advantage of you. You are not lucid. You’re a stalker now.”

  “Cut the bullshit! If I were lucid, would you be interested?”

  “Stalkers are not appealing.”

  “But you stalked me. And first! You used to want me so badly! Don’t you remember?”

  “People change.”

  “But I haven’t. I’m still the same person you wanted before.”

  “No, you’re not. You are creepier now. But I’ve been there. I don’t blame you.”

  Lynn’s voice was becoming strained. “Okay, okay, what if I were not a stalker, but just … reasonably interested in you, would you … could you then be interested in me romantically?”

  “Hmm, no, it would never work, with our history of me having stalked you and humiliated myself so much.”

  “Not half as much as I’m humiliating myself!”

  “First of all, that’s arguable, and second of all, that’s not a good argument.”

  It meant nothing to her what happened after that. “I don’t want to drive back with you. I’m taking the train home.” She marched into the hotel and packed her things. Within a half hour, she was gone.

  Having done everything he could to help Lynn and Roland get back together, Alan decided to stay one more night at the inn to relax and enjoy his newfound freedom from his stalker.

  Early the next morning he would drive back to the city. He called his apartment to tell Jessica his plans, but his girlfriend wasn’t answering. He left a message. He hadn’t been able to reach her since he’d left the city. He hoped she was doing okay and not overly jealous, but he wasn’t too worried, because she’d told him she might spend the weekend with her friend Mary.

  He called Roland’s cell phone to give him a report of how the weekend had ended. Roland was in his rented car, parked on the side of the road, right at the end of the driveway that led to the inn. He was waiting for the few guests to check out, as they were bound to do on a Sunday night, so that he could be alone with Max and put an end to him. One couple had already left, and he saw Lynn leave in a taxi.

  When Roland answered his cell phone, Alan said, “Lynn left without me. She’s mad at me.” Alan thought this would please Roland.

  “And you? Are you leaving now?” Roland asked.

  “Uh, no, I’m going to stay one more night.”

  That was very inconvenient for Roland, who didn’t want to have to sleep in his car overnight waiting for Max to be alone. “Why?” he said.

  “To unwind.”

  “Don’t you have to be at work tomorrow?”

  “I’ll go in late.”

  “Can’t you unwind at home with your girlfriend?”

  “I don’t think my girlfriend’s at home. I’m here, I might as well unwind here. Why do you ask?”

  “I want my car back.”

  “Is it urgent?” Alan asked.

  “Yes! I want it back now.”

  “I’m really not up for driving back right now, after all this stress with Lynn. I’m afraid I’d have an accident.”

  “I need my car back now.”

  “Why is it so urgent?”

  Roland couldn’t come up wi
th a good reason. “Because the deal was you could have the car until Sunday night. That’s it. I want my car back tonight. Stick to your word, as you say.”

  “I’m tired. You’re being unreasonable. I’ll drive back in the morning.”

  Roland sighed. “God, you’re such a jerk.” He could not wait for an opportunity to beat up Alan. He came up with a way he could treat himself to it after visiting Max. “Okay, I want my car back tomorrow morning. I’ll be going to the field of Lynn’s love, because, you never know, maybe that map-reading professor was right and it’ll increase my chances of Lynn falling back in love with me. The field is on your way back into Manhattan. You can pick me up there, and we can drive together.”

  He gave Alan directions to the field and told him to meet him there at eight-thirty the following morning. He added, “Do you think you’ll find it, with your poor sense of direction?”

  “I’ll find it,” Alan said.

  “By the way, Max is kind of a jerk, isn’t he?” Roland asked.

  “Yeah, he goes a bit overboard with the preferential treatment and the luxuries and the compliments.”

  Roland was reassured that he had neither misunderstood nor misinterpreted what he had heard through the window.

  Alan was still lying by the pool. Max came up to him and said, “I’m sorry Lynn left in such a huff.”

  “Oh, I know, it’s a shame, but probably unavoidable. Maybe for the best.”

  “What time will you be checking out?”

  “Seven o’clock tomorrow morning.”

  “You’re welcome to help yourself to anything you want in the kitchen when you wake, in case I’m not up yet.”

  Alan squinted up at him, at his kindness. The descending sun shone behind him.

  “Thanks.”

  Max planned to have sex with Jessica in the sitting room at about 7:00 A.M. He didn’t tell her that was when her boyfriend would be coming down. What he said, as he lured her down from her room, was that the public aspect would add tremendous excitement to the situation. The truth was that he was smitten with her and wouldn’t mind having her for himself. He was hoping Alan would break up with her.

  At 7:00 A.M., Alan caught them.

  He pushed Max off his girlfriend, screaming, “What have you done to her! She’s ill! You are fucking with an ill person!”