LOQUI PUPA

Wayne Taylor was a below-par performer,  and his audience was those in sleazy clubs;  like a hazy snapshot appealing only to wild people having a rough time adds up to a portrait of shady entertainment. His jokes were past their sell-by date,  and the audience treated him with contempt.

Wayne’s partner was  Jimmy  Boy,  who had orange hair, jet black eyebrows, carnival red lips and cheeks, and wore a dark blue leather jacket on a light blue shirt and a spotted blue and white bow tie.  Wayne was not impressed with his partner's attitude, especially when they were live performing their act. Though lately, the audience was impressed and showered them with applause.

"What do you say? Are we to continue with our business?"

"How could this be?"   said   Wayne,   utterly shocked.

"Be what?"

"How could you be real?  You  a  paper  mache puppet?" He tried to reason with himself.

“I am what I am!” From his mouth came long hysterical demonic laughter.

“You made me real! You formed words in my head;  you moved my mouth and gave me a tongue. Don’t you get it, you idiot, you made me what I am today,  and I  sincerely hope you  are satisfied!” Once again, from his big mouth came that prolonged hysterical satanic laughter. Wayne thought that he was dreaming, or worse, having a nightmare, except that he was there staring at it. In a blind panic, he put his hand over its mouth to stop it from talking anymore, but Jimmy Boy bit him!

He came out of the building carrying and medium-size suitcase and found the taxi waiting for him; he shook hands with the man who saw him out and went down 15 steps and approached the car.  The taxi driver took the suitcase from him and put it in the compartment.  Wayne opened the door and sat in the back, and when the car took off, he looked back at the vast building, which was his home for the last six months. It wasn,t a long journey, and it took less than an hour to arrive at his house.  He then thanked the driver waiting at the back with his luggage.  The taxi left, and Wayne stood still in front of his old house and looked up at the windows, but there was no sign of life. Nobody was waiting for him.

He opened the door with a key. He removed his jacket and went inside,  shutting the door behind him. He left the luggage in the middle of the room while looking around the three rooms; nothing seemed to be touched or removed.

It was the same as before he went away, except that it stayed clean of dust, which meant that the person who was five years old was still looking after it. He sat down on an armchair, and with his foot, he reached for the luggage and moved close enough to get his hands. He opened it, and from one side,   he took half a bottle of vodka, unscrewing the top and drank straight from the bottle.

He screwed back the top and put the bottle on the floor by the side of the chair; he put his arms around his shoulders and, with his head facing the ceiling, closed his eyes.

When he opened his eyes a couple of hours later from a weary sleep, he saw Jocelyn looking out the window.

“Did you have a good nap?”   said   Jocelyn, realising he woke up.

“What are you doing here?”   asked   Wayne, standing up and stretching himself.

​

“I've been coming here once a week to look after your place,” she said, “even though you haven't asked for me once.” She continued, but he did not answer. “How are your hands anyway?” she continued.

“My hands”, Wayne looked at his hands, “There is nothing wrong with them; why?”

“Because in five months you never picked up a pen and paper and wrote to me!” she confronted him.

“You know how it is,” he said. “What is she doing here?”

Wayne turned his head round in an instant. He knew that voice anywhere, but he could not see anybody.

“What's wrong, Wayne?” asked  Jocelyn, noticing he turned pale.

“Nothing, I thought I heard someone calling me.” He uttered.

“Are you angry that I kept in touch? I mean that I looked after your house?”

“Not at all; it's very good of you,” said Wayne sincerely.

"Get her out of here; we don't need her."

Wayne turned and ran towards the other rooms. Then he went to the front door, opened it, looked outside, and came back in, slamming the door.

"Is something bothering you, Wayne?" she asked him worriedly.

Wayne raised his voice. "I told you I am alright!" He calmed down quickly. "I'm sorry, Jocelyn, I  am not feeling well at all.  I've  had  bad  dreams."

"It's Ok, and you don't have to be afraid of me anymore."

"I don't think you should come and see me anymore. It wouldn't be safe".

"Yes, I know"

"Jocelyn, there are things about me that you don't know. If you knew the truth, you wouldn't want to be with me."

"What is this?" she asked, but not curious.

"Something  which  happened  a  long  time  ago, something bad."

"What if I told you that I already knew?"

Wayne looked at her. "Knew what?"

"Your secret," she said with a sympathetic voice.

"My secret?" he asked, walking away from her to another room.

"Yes, while you were away, I had to open your letters to see..."

"You  had  no  right  to  read  my  letters."  He interrupted instantly, "They're personal."

"But … "

"But what," he growled, "I think you'd better leave now."

"I'm sorry that I have upset you. I thought I was doing the right thing."  She felt very guilty and apologised.

"That's the trouble with you;  you think too bloody much", he said as he picked up the bottle of vodka beside the chair and the suitcase. "I'll be in the bedroom. When you get bored, you may leave."

Wayne left the lounge and went straight to the bedroom without closing the door behind him. Jocelyn did not know what to do, so she picked up her handbag and left the apartment.

In the bedroom, Wayne knelt and, from under his bed, pulled out a large rectangular black box and put it on the mattress. He looked at it for some time, then opened it. “You took your time!” the voice said.

“So it was you all the time,”  said  Wayne to Jimmy Boy.

“Who else would it be who talks in your head? Come on, take me out of this damn box”, ordered the dummy.

Wayne picked him up carefully, sat him on a chair by the window, and opened it. The fresh breeze felt better on his face, and he looked at the dummy sitting on the chair, Jimmy staring at him. “I thought they would never let you out of that madhouse.”

“Excuse me!” objected Wayne, “Resting home if you don’t mind!”

“I told you she knows.”

“What do we do?” asked Wayne. “Nothing, not yet!”

“What if she tells?”

“She won,t because she loves you.”

“And if she comes back?”

“Then  you  have  to  do  something  about  her?” asked the dummy

“What do you expect me to do?” asked Wayne, a bit weary.

“Ditch her! Get rid of her as soon as possible!”

“I am not sure about that!”  replied the foolish ventriloquist.

“She knows your little secret …”  said  Jimmy sarcastically.

“That's true.   I  forgot about that!”   admitted Wayne.

“That's settled, then!” said Jimmy. And please make sure you get me some new clothes; the ones I'm wearing stink like hell!”

The following day, Wayne had an appointment with a new psychiatrist. He did not want to go, but he had to;  otherwise,  he'd  be in a lot of trouble. That was one of the reasons that they let him leave the asylum.  He had to abide by the rules, and if he didn't, he  would go straight back in under the watchful eyes of doctors and nurses!

When he arrived at the psychiatrist's,  he was surprised to find that it was not a clinic or even an office but a private house, and when pressing the doorbell, he was bewildered to see that the psychiatrist was a woman not more than 35 years old. She let him, and she introduced herself, Dr Ligea Dabrowski. She was a lovely, tall lady, with long black hair and a slim body. She told him to sit down, and as he sat on the sofa, to his amazement,  she sat beside him, expecting that she’d sit on a very comfortable armchair with a notebook in her hand.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Fine, yes, I am doing alright!” he answered.

“I  mean,  since you came out of the hospital? Yesterday was it?”

“Yes, it's nice to be independent again after five long months. I went to my apartment thinking I had to do a lot of work cleaning, but to my surprise, it was all cleaned up. I did not know that my girlfriend kept looking after it.”

“Was she there when you arrived?”

“No, she came afterwards but did not stay long.” He said in an anxious voice.

“Did something happen between you two?” she asked.  

“We had a row;  everything was alright until she told me that in my absence,  she was reading the letters that I’ve received. I thought that was out of order.”

“Yes, I can understand”, she slightly agrees, “but on  the  other  hand,  since  you  were  not  there, maybe she thought they could be important documents.”

“But because  of that,  she found out  something about me, and I don,t like that at all.” He was very annoyed, and he showed it.

“What did she find out?”

“Well, something…..” he hesitated and realised he was talking too much.  “Nothing really; it's not important.”

“Everything is important if you want to get cured completely!” Dr Ligea explained.

“I was never ill, Doctor.”

“You had a  severe breakdown,”  she looked at him straight into his eyes.  “You were working too hard, night after night, with that dummy on your lap.”

“Of course, that’s what I do; I’m a ventriloquist,” said Wayne, getting frustrated.

“Yes, I know, but when you broke down, you maintained that the dummy was talking to you. Correct  me  if  I’m   wrong, but  it’s  the ventriloquist  that   makes   the   dummy   speak, right?”  Wayne was not expecting this kind of questioning,  and he felt it was like an interrogation, not a medical session.

“Yes, that is true, but it is also true that Jimmy Boy talks to me!”

“Is?” she asked, “Is he still talking to you?”

“I meant was!” he shouted, “Am I not allowed to make a mistake?”

“Calm down, Wayne. I want to help you, and I want you to understand that. There is no need to get so uptight.”

Wayne apologised, and the session continued for half an hour more, and he left to revisit her the following week. He did not see Jocelyn for a few days, but his dreams worsened. He decided to go and see his psychiatrist, so he drove to her place on the off chance that she would be there, and she was.

“I need to talk to you,”  he said to her as she opened the door.

“Why don’t you sit down and we talk about it?”

He went in carrying wooden luggage and sat down, and she noticed that he was very anxious, so she sat beside him. “Wayne, these last few years, I have dealt with many people with the same condition as yours.”

“Condition?”

“Yes, people with certain disorders and dual personalities. So your relationship with Jimmy is so real that … .”

“We’ll do a good thesis for your research?” he interrupted.

“No,  not at all.  I  am here to help you,”  she assured him.

“I am not mad. I haven’t got split personality or whatever you call it. The pressure of my work got to me, and I broke down, that's all!”

“I know; I know all your history, so don't worry about it. Now tell me why you're here.”

Wayne started to be fidgety,  playing with his fingers a lot. “Things are happening again!”

“Have you  gone  off your medication?” Wayne denied. “Tell me what's been going on?” “Hang on, Wayne, and listen very carefully. You have to go back right now!”

“No, I did not come here so that you section me again. Is this your kind of help?”

I mean to help you, and to help you, I need you to stay away from situations that could lead you to trouble,” she said to him, knowing that she was lying.

“Everything is going to be just fine. I’ll look after you.”

“I cannot go back in there!”

“Maybe they have released you too early. You don,t  want  to  have  another  total  collapse,  do you?”

“No,  of course not”, he said,  frightened.  “You need to help me. I know that but do not send me back, please.”

“Alright, but you have to trust me.” “I’ll try” and he calmed down a bit.

"I’m going to try some aggressive therapy with you."

"What’s that?"

"Nothing for you to worry, I’ll assure you. I only ask to do as I say! Wayne, I want you to think of something that calms you,  think of someplace where no one can harm you, where you feel safe. Now close your eyes and think back to when you were  small."  Wayne obeyed her command;  he rested his head on the back of the sofa with his eyes closed.   "You’re with your parents again. What’s happening?"

"Something bad", he uttered with his eyes closed.

"Continue,  don’t shy away from me.  Tell  me what it is that is happening?"

"They are taking Jimmy from me." "And what do you think of that?"

"I hate them for it.  "What do you do?"

"I go to my room crying! But then Jimmy says, it’s OK, will be alright!"

“That same night, the house caught fire? Tell me, who started the fire?” Wayne didn,t answer and started to resist. “Was it you? There is silence, and he doesn,t  move.  “Who created the fire, Wayne?

“Who do you think?” said a voice.

The doctor looked cautiously around her,  and suddenly Wayne screamed and stood up. Doctor Ligea got to him quickly and grabbed his face. “OK, Wayne, it's only me.”

“We need to do something about him!”

“OK, calm down. Have you got the medication with you?”

He put his hand in his pocket, took out a small red plastic bottle, and gave it to her.

“Stelazin, they’re heavy psychotics,”    she exclaimed as she read the label.

“I know”, he admitted and took the bottle from her, opened it and swallowed one without water!  “She’s going to section you again, you idiot!” said the voice from the box.

​

Later that evening,  Ligea relaxed at her home with a glass of red wine, listening to some maverick music from the Far East. Her mind was with a glass of red wine, listening to eccentric music from the Far East. She was thinking about her trip to China in a few weeks. She had never been married, and she never wanted to get too much attached to the male species.  She stayed enjoying her company for another hour or so when she decided to have a hot bath. She poured another glass of wine and went upstairs to the bathroom, where she turned on the hot water and put on a herbal bag of lavender, sage, rosemary,  and rose petals.    The psychiatrist believed in relaxation in a big way. She went to the bedroom to get undressed. She took off her tight top and removed her brassiere, covering her small but solid breasts.  She unzipped her tight black skirt, pulled her brief knickers,  and went straight to the bathroom, where she felt the water to see if it was hot.  She was enjoying the hot water while sipping her red wine slowly.  The soapy water covered her whole body; she closed her eyes and relaxed. ”Do you think you're going to put him back in that horrible place?”  said a voice from outside the bathroom.

Ligea raised her head and listened.   “My imagination is running away with me,”  she thought.  Again, there was silence,  and she lay back in the water. In an instant, she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders pushing her down. She had no time to scream, but she wrestled a lot; whoever was holding her was very strong,  and from under the water,  she could hear the word ‘bitch, mumbled over and over again. After a few minutes,  she stopped fighting the assailant and slipped away unconscious.

The next evening, Jocelyn decided to visit Wayne at his home. She was distraught that they had fallen out and understood his frustration with reading the letter from the asylum. Still, she wanted to make up for her mistake, and she was going to try to persuade him to forgive her. It was a long road to his house, and she couldn't help but think about him and how much she cared for him. She turned on the radio and started listening to a local station playing some music from the sixties. After a song or two, the news came on, and one of the main items was the suspicious death of  Doctor Ligea Dabrowski, who seemingly drowned while having a bath. Jocelyn knew her through Wayne and had a shock. After about half an hour, she arrived at Wayne's house; she parked her car and got out of it. outside it was bare, and the only sound one could hear was the twittering of some birds from a distant tree. The slight breeze blew her hair,  and she walked around the house to see if Wayne's car was parked elsewhere, but could not see it. "Maybe he put it in the garage," she thought while she kept staring at all the house's windows, but there was no sign of anybody. She decided to get in; she still had the spare keys he had given her long ago.

She looked around on the ground floor when inside,  but there was no sign of Wayne.  She climbed upstairs, and it was also empty of any life. She started to climb the stairs to reach the third floor when she thought she heard voices coming from there. She got up slowly, and from a door,  she could listen to two voices,  and although the hall was quite dark, she didn't dare to go closer.

“I don,t know what to do with you!”

“You spent too much time with women!” “But you cannot just go and kill people!” “says who?”

“I was thinking you're getting rid of you once and for all.”

“What did you say?”

“I always got into trouble because of you!” “If you do, you're dead!”

Jocelyn couldn't make up what the voices were saying,  but she knew that one of them was Wayne, who sounded terrified. She turned to go back downstairs when Wayne opened the door and came out carrying the wooden box where he keeps  Jimmy.  When he saw  Jocelyn,  he got a fright.

“Get out of my way.” He said to her.

Interfering bitch, she has to die,” said the voice from the box

“No,” shouted Wayne.

“What's happening? Where are you going?” “I'm going to get rid of him once and for all. " Who?” she asked.

“Jimmy, who else! I am not safe with him around me  anymore!”  As he kept striding fast to the outside door.

“I just heard on the news that your psychiatrist has been found dead in her house,” Jocelyn told him, and

She tried to catch up with him.

“I know!” he said, angry and frightened. Outside, he ran to the garage door and opened it, and went in looking for something. After a while, Jocelyn saw him coming out with the box and carrying a jerry can. Wayne went straight to the woods far away from the house,  and when he found the right spot, he put down the wooden box containing  Jimmy on the ground,  turned the cap of the Jerry can open and poured all the petrol on the box. He took out a box of matches; from the ground,  he picked up a small dried branch, wet it with the petrol from the crate and lit it; he moved a few steps backwards and threw it on the box, which burst into vicious flames. Jocelyn arrived in time to see the box blazing, and she grabbed his arms for comfort. The fire took a while to consume the box.

Together they went into the house, cuddling each other. Wayne sat down on the sofa,  exhausted and troubled with the decision he had taken. Jocelyn sat very close beside him.

“I always loved you”, he said with grief.

“I know you did,” replied Jocelyn. “I’m so sorry I ever doubted you!”

Wayne took her into his arms and cuddled her.    

“I’m glad I’m all alone with you now!” she said.

Wayne lifted her head and stroked her hair. “So am I”, he uttered as he dropped his hands to her neck and started to choke her slowly.  Jocelyn couldn’t get away from him; she was too small and weak to overpower him.

“So am I bitch!” he said in Jimmy’s voice.

​

THE END