A Good Little Girl Like You (A Sample)

hulk. "God damn it, Zack! I keep telling you to stop

punching people. Do I have to call the cops?"

"Fuck off, Ike. That guy was hitting on Nora."

He turned back to O.E. "Don't let me see you around

here again, fuckwad, or else I might have to kill you." He

narrowed his eyes and gave O.E. the once-over. "Now since

your legs are still working, I suggest you use them." He

roared at O.E., "Get out!"

I'm going, I'm going. O.E. didn't have to be told twice.

He stumbled through the nightclub, tasting blood. He

made it to his car and collapsed into the driver's seat,

twisting the rear view mirror to examine himself. His jaw

looked bruised, darkness had spread over one side. But this

was much more than a bruise-he could feel a stabbing

pain whenever he tried to open his mouth.

Shit. Shit. Shit. He wanted to shout it out, but speech

was impossible right now. Instead, he drove himself to the

hospital.

By the time he got there, his eyes were watering from

pain. He had to pantomime getting punched in the jaw in

order to explain his situation to the nurse.

She looked up at him in his party clothes and exhaled.

"Have a seat and fill out this form." She handed him a

clipboard.

It took an hour before they called him into an

examination room, and by then his whole head was

throbbing. The E.R. doctor, a young woman, smiled at him.

"Good evening, Mr. Orton. I see you got into a fight."

O.E. grunted, his only means of communication at the

moment.

After a short examination, some much appreciated pain

medication, and a long wait for X-rays, the doctor made her

diagnosis. "First the good news: your jaw suffered a minor

fracture and should heal in two weeks. Now the bad news:

we're going to have to wire it shut during that time. I'm

going to check you into a room for the night, and we'll have

a surgeon take care of it in the morning. Is there someone

you'd like to contact?"

O.E. moaned and let his head drop. He shook it back

and forth to tell her, thanks but no thanks. He was on his

own. This night was turning into a colossal failure.

Tuesday, September 18

The next afternoon, after uncomfortable surgery, O.E.

sat in a hospital bed with his jaw wired shut. The pain

killers were doing their work, and his head felt like it was

securely wrapped, ready for shipment. All he had to do was

write Rebecca's address on his forehead and throw himself