Mindy Poppago: Blue: Part 2: Requests, Commands, and Full-Bodied Demands

by A. J. Hallenger

  I felt my head spinning again. I sat down on the stool and stared at the customer register book trying to remember parts of the conversation. I was shocked, and it was hard to think. “He was getting ready to go back to Afghanistan or someplace the next day, he said. He just talked about his family and shit—stuff. Where he grew up…”

  “Nothing about who might be after him—someone he owed money to, was hiding from—anyone like that who might be looking to harm him?”

  “No, just that he wasn’t happy with his wife for some reason,” I said. I wasn’t about to tell him how I could be responsible since I might have put a curse on him by giving him that tattoo! Shit!

  “Uh-huh. Anything about where he was going or had just been?”

  “No. He’d been drinking, though.”

  “Did you see him again after you gave him the tattoo?”

  “No, that was the only time I saw or talked to him,” I said. “Why, what happened?”

  “Well, I can’t talk about that, ma’am. I’ll need you to see it and confirm that it’s the same tattoo we’re talking about.”

  “Oh. Okay, why? Whatever.” Of course, it’s my tattoo!

  “One more question. Was he with anyone when he came to your store that night?”

  “Yes, he had another guy-soldier with him.”

  “Do you happen to remember his name?”

  “No, but I can probably get it for you. We usually keep track of our work and our clients in a register.” I was looking at it again. We keep a register mostly to show what work we did for the shop and to prove we got the proper approvals for any minors.

  “You don’t have to give it to me now. Do you mind if I stop by with a picture of the tattoo and get it then?”

  “Yeah, sure,” I said. I noticed that my equilibrium seemed a little off, and I felt weak again. I was wondering if I was about to get sick—or faint!

  “Will you be at the shop tonight?”

  “Yeah, I’m here till about 9, maybe later, maybe not. It depends on how many clients come in.”

  “Okay, I’ll stop by in about an hour.”

  “Okay, see ya.”

  “Uh—yeah, goodbye.”

  I noticed that my hand was shaking when I hung up the phone, and my eyes started tearing up.

  They’re here, and then they’re not. Goddammit, I let him get to me! I’m such a fucking idiot! Again!

  And then, the detective didn’t show.

  Fortunately, it was a quiet night as expected, and I only had to do a couple of piercings. Eventually, I stopped feeling nauseated, but the weakness and dizziness never completely went away, and I was better sitting down. I was able to make it to nine-thirty before I told Jerry I needed to leave early. He took a look at me and said I looked pale and shitty and offered me a ride home. I thanked him for all of that and said I felt good enough to drive. On my way home, I realized I shouldn’t have jumped into Julio’s li’l shop of orgasms so soon after the crash. And I was devastated over Dale the Marine dying. It was a hard punch in the gut, and I didn’t know how to handle it.

  I knew that tragic tattoo would bring bad karma, and now I felt guilty, and my heart hurt, and I hated it—like when Diana died. Again, I asked myself, Love, romance?—it sucks! So why try? I'd rather crash into a pig! Fuckin’-A.

  Episode 6 - Do unto others…

  When I got home after leaving work early, I had to face the fact that I wasn’t as strong as I thought I was—physically or mentally. I decided to rest and recuperate like the nurse said and give my head and body a break for a while.

  Dale the Marine’s death remained heavy on my mind. We had only just met last Friday night, but I felt like I had known him for years. We shared some of the same kind of feelings growing up that most people don’t, and that made him feel like an old friend. We understood what the other had gone through. All along, he had been doing what he thought was the right thing to do. He joined the Marines to escape the shitty conditions he had “at home,” and then had to make the best out of being kept away from his wife and kids by his duty to the Marines. It was a tough burden, and it wasn’t making a good case for marriage and family at all, as far as I was concerned. Again, I tried to consider his situation as unique and not the way committed marital relationships are supposed to go, but I still found myself coming back to my belief that marital and romantic success was just the luck of the dice. You probably won't win, and when you don't, it's a shitty place to be. I was getting tired thinking about it, and I decided that my emotions must have been a little screwed up because of the toll from the pig accident. And also, maybe somewhere inside of me, I wanted true love to be true.

  I ended up taking over a week off from work. After a few days, I felt stronger. I started getting out more, and that helped with reducing my ruminations over the ordeals of the accident and Dale. I was still puzzled and concerned, though, as to why his death affected me so much.

  Both Marla and Jerry had called a couple of times to check in on me. They both offered to help me out financially since I wasn’t making any income by staying at home, but I didn’t need it. I usually don’t spend much. Sometimes I might have as many as five or six weekly paychecks folded up in my purse before I deposit them because there’s plenty in the account already. I like shopping at second-hand thrift stores for fashion treasures, and I have a sensible apartment, a reasonable car, eat just enough for my meals, and I would rather binge on Netflix than go to a movie. It’s not only cheaper, but the fact that you can watch Netflix naked is no small reason to prefer it. And fortunately, I find that it doesn’t have to cost a lot to fuck, which, as you’re well aware of by now, is my favorite recreation and pastime. Steak dinner and dress-up or a cheap fuck? I know absolutely which one I would pick. Shame on me.

  Since Julio, I had been taking it easy on my puss and rested, as the nurse ordered. I even turned Pamela down when she invited me to come over and fuck her with her newest strap-on phallus. She said she was going out of town to visit her sister for a few days and wanted the proper send-off. I’ve known Pamela for a couple of years, and we’ve gotten together fairly regularly since we met. She’s on the plump side and has a pair of really fun super-sized tits. I get lost fucking her when she’s lying across the edge of the bed on her back, and I’m standing against her, holding her legs in the air with my dick planted deep inside her cunt and pumping her hard and watching her giant boobs bobble and flail to her loud, jiggling moans of pleasure. It got me wet just thinking about it, and it was all I could do to turn her down.

  As the week passed, I felt stronger and more energetic, and my craving for sex grew accordingly. During all these days of rest, I had done all I could to keep myself calm and resisting temptation, even from my own fingers, most of the time. By Monday, I thought that I should be good to go soon. It had been a week, and I was chompin’ at the bit to get back to all my regular shit. I wanted to give myself ten days to be sure I was ready for it.

  Marla called a couple of days ago and wanted me to go with her to the mall to shop and eat and other shit, and insisted that she wanted to pay for it. We planned it for Thursday. And I told Jerry that I was starting to feel back to my old self, so he needed to get his shit together and expect to see me back at work on Wednesday. He told me he didn’t need me back to work that bad then laughed. Fucker.

  Wednesday came, and I woke up wondering about Jake, of all things—thinking maybe I should stop by St. Agnes Hospital and see him since we’re practically war buddies now. Then I started to feel a little guilty for not thinking to visit him before when I thought about seeing Dale. I mean, I didn’t really know him, but it would probably be decent for me to say hey, considering the crazy shit circumstances of the situation. I knew that he might be discharged by now, but I thought probably not if what Dr. Saylor had said was true. Of course, there was a chance I might run into Ruby or Dr. Saylor in a hallway, but from what I could gather, I thought Dr. Saylor must work the night shift. And I wasn’t sure how I would act seeing Ru
by again—at least right now, so I cautiously hoped I could avoid her.

  I poked around my apartment the rest of the morning, walking my treadmill to some Sublime, and giving my king-sized cat, Hummer, some petting attention that he was persistent in getting. I showered and put on some comfortable loose denim jean shorts, my rusty-red, medieval-looking mosaic dragon t-shirt, and for the record, no panties. Then I ate a pb&j sandwich for lunch. That and a diet cola from the fridge was plenty to get me through the afternoon. It was 1:30 when I got to the hospital and headed for the check-in at the front window to get his room number.

  The lady behind the window kept her eyes fixed on her computer screen as I approached. She hadn’t looked up when I got there, so I moved my head up closer so that my nose was against the window. She looked startled when she finally lifted her face to acknowledge me and my piercings and shiny blue hair gazing at her.

  “Yes?” she asked. I backed my head from the window. She had some serious make-up issues, and her cheeks were bright pink. She seemed to forget whatever it was she had been engaged with on the computer and seemed to become more disturbed as she took in my appearance.

  “Could you please tell me the room number for Jake –“ Holy fuck, what’s his last name?

  She looked at me and raised her eyebrows, waiting for me to finish. I noticed an over-sized cross she wore on her necklace chain. “I’ll need more information than that, honey,” she said flatly.

  “Um, motorcycle accident – he’s been here for almost two weeks.”

  C’mon, lady, smile. Show me some love.

  “You’re not a family member?” she surmised.

  “No, I’m a, uh, friend.” I sucked his cock. I think that constitutes the status of at least almost being a friend.

  “A friend? If he’s your friend, you might want to remember his name.”

  “Oh, we never got that far,” I blurted, wanting to be honest, but realized I should just shut up.

  She looked at me with a confused look trying to justify a frown. I’m used to it—it comes with the territory. I didn’t like her either.

  “Motorcycle accident, huh? Someone was just here asking about him. West, perhaps?” she asked in a tone more of annoyance than to be helpful.

  “Yes, West.” I hope!

  “Well, he’s already got a couple of visitors—his brother and sister-in-law, who’ve been here for about half-an-hour. Visiting hours for non-relatives don’t start until three, though. You’ll have to wait until then. You can have a seat over there in the waiting area. There’s some vending machines in the corner. He’s on the fourth floor—room 4K-8. Three o’clock, got it?”

  I considered giving her the bird and becoming the wretched tramp she had already sized me up to be, but I couldn’t muster it. I just mumbled shit about having enough time to kill by having my thirteenth abortion and walked away. Fuck her.

  My senses picked up the luring fragrance of espresso from somewhere, so I followed my nose until I came across a coffee stand that the church lady neglected to tell me about. I ordered a latte from the cute barista who greeted me politely. I wondered if she was working her way through nursing school as I paid her. I couldn’t help but think that, with her looks, she could find plenty of other work that guys would pay a lot more for than what she was getting here. I was once asked if I wanted to be a call-girl escort for women. In idle times, I could see how that might work nicely as a side job—especially when my mind took me to being treated like their bitch. I wondered if that would be as hot as I thought.

  “I’ll have it right out!” she chirped cheerfully when she gave me my change. Fuck, maybe I can make her MY bitch!

  While my mind entertained me with some explicit images, I turned to go to the waiting area and heard a man say, “Well, if it isn’t Miss POP-pago.”

  My heart fluttered like wings as I realized who it was. “Dr. Saylor! I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “Why not? I work here." He smiled. "Don't you remember?"

  “Yes, I mean, I thought you worked nights.”

  “Yes, on occasion I do. I fill in for the emergency room when they need me to. I just happened to be on rotation the night you came in. You look like you’ve recovered well from your tumble.”

  “Yes, I’m doing good. Every now and then my a—butt feels sore, but it’s nothing. How are you?” I found myself not only trying to speak with good manners but trying to sound fucking normal too. I know I’m not the most sophisticated person in the world, but I didn’t want him to run away in disgust. I was thinking to myself, He’s such a fucking-FUCKING handsome man. Does he realize how little he would have to say to take me with him? I couldn’t remember any man who made me swoon like this simply upon seeing him, and I was well aware of my silly thoughts. But, I couldn’t help it. Around him, I was feeling light-hearted and special.

  “Fine, thanks,” he answered. “Are you here for a check-up?”

  I wanted to say, No, but I’m sure we could arrange something, but I knew it was silly. “No, actually I came to visit Jake. I haven’t seen him since the accident.”

  “Oh, really? Well, from what I hear, he seems to be doing okay. He’ll have to be here a week or two longer. Just some broken bones—no internal injuries.”

  “That’s good. I can’t see him until three, though. The witch at the castle gate won’t let me through.”

  “Ah, I see. So you need an escort, eh?”

  “An escort?” My heart skipped a beat.

  “Someone to get you past the witch. An able knight, if I may. Looks like your dragon shirt didn’t help.”

  My beating heart underneath my dragon t-shirt was now going amuck. “Yeah, that would work. An able knight.” I hope he asks me to mount his steed. Once again, I was starting to feel wet. It was taking less and less for my mind to go there.

  “Here’s your latte!” the girl shouted. I jumped. I had forgotten all about it.

  “Thanks,” I said, as I took it from her hand. Our eyes met, and she did this little wink thing and smiled. I’m sure my eyes lit up as I smiled back. I was feeling the mojo. Things felt like everything was going my way. And to be honest, I was having trouble wrapping my head around it.

  I couldn’t resist taking a sip of my latte in an attempt to bring myself back to earth as I turned back around. My hand was shaking. Dr. Saylor put his hand on my back to guide me. I wanted him to hug me.

  “Well, come along, m’lady, I’ll take you along the winding path that leads to the secret passageway into the royal castle.”

  “Weren’t you going to get something?” I asked.

  “Nah, I saw you standing there and just wanted to say hello. Let’s go this way. We won’t draw her attention over here.”

  Just wanted to say hello? Shit!

  He led me through some unmarked double doors, then through some more double doors, and stopped at a bank of elevators.

  “I presume you know his room number and floor.”

  “Yes, fourth floor.”

  “Then I leave you to brave the rest of your journey on your own, Mindy Poppago. You should be safe from here on out.”

  “Thank you, o gallant knight, sir.” This was ridiculous—I couldn’t believe it was happening.

  He gave a quick bow, winked, and turned to leave, saying, “And watch out for those menacing hogs!”

  “What kind of lady do you think I am?” I replied, smiling.

  “Ha!” was all he said. I must have stood like a statue as I watched him go back through the double-doors as the elevator doors closed. It was a few moments before I remembered to press the up button.

  I reached the fourth floor, and a sign told me that Unit 4K was down the corridor to my left. I walked toward the nurses’ station and noticed I was passing some patient rooms and I looked up at the room numbers. As I got closer, heads began to turn toward me. I reached number eight when a nurse asked, “Can we help you?”

  I smiled and pointed to the room and walked right in. I breathed a sigh o
f relief when I saw Jake’s face and realized that I was in the right place. Two other people were standing beside his bed, and I realized that one of them was Jill, the bartender—all tight and slim in long-legged black jeans and a black T. She seemed to recognize me right away and smiled.

  “Well, hello, long lost riding partner,” she said.

  “Hey,” I replied. I looked at Jake. He had a bandage on his forehead, a cast on his left leg and one on his left arm, and his right arm was in a sling. “You look a little banged up, buddy.”

  “What’s up, Cherry Bomb,” he said. He seemed a little less spirited than he did the last time I saw him. “I was wondering what happened to you. Weren’t you in the same accident I was in? You look perfectly fine.”

  “Well, I don’t know about that. My body’s not broken, anyway,” I said.

  “That’s what the doctor told us,” said Jill. “It’s incredible you got out without a scratch.”

  “It’s cuz I landed on my big butt. I probably bounced off it a few times. I don’t remember. It knocked me out,” I explained.

  “Maybe you landed on that pig,” Jake said. “Man, that fucker came out of nowhere. I didn’t see it until a split second before I slammed into it. Glad you’re okay.”

  “Yeah, me too. Just don’t do that shit to me again.”

  “Whatever,” he grumbled. “Hey, this is my friend Jay, and you know Jill, I guess, from the bar. This is my not-worth-a-shit co-pilot, Mindy.”

  I looked at Jay and gave him a nod. His beard and gut looked ready for a cycle rally. “The lady downstairs said you were his brother.”

  “Well, you know, brother in spirit.” He let out a wheezing smoker’s laugh. “She wasn’t specific.” He seemed jolly enough to be an alright guy.

  “Well, we’ll see you later, bud,” Jay said to Jake. “We got a few things to do before Jill has to go to work.”

  “Glad you could drop by,” Jake said. “Thanks for the milkshake. Next time throw some fuckin’ bourbon in it, alright?”