Maggie is curled up on her bed, staring at the wall, when she hears movement out in the hall. She pulls the duvet over her head. The sounds are muffled under the covers but they continue, to Maggie’s increasing irritation. She just wants to be alone.
Everybody is supposed to be in class now anyway damn it.
But Maggie hears the rumble of a deep male voice, followed by a woman’s laugh, and decides enough is enough. What the hell is Elsie doing bringing men up here. That’s got to stop. Righteous anger fuels Maggie as she flings off the duvet and grabs her robe. Knotting the sash she yanks open her bedroom door and stomps down the hall.
But Elsie’s door is closed. Is she in there screwing some guy? No wait, the next door, Natasha’s door, is ajar with light spilling out. Unbelievable, is some shit stealing Natasha’s expensive camera gear? What kind of rat would rip off Natasha while she’s in the hospital?
Without a second thought, Maggie’s anger swells and propels her down the hall where she bangs open the door and bellows, “Just what the hell do you …”
Maggie stops when she sees it isn’t a gang of thieves, it’s housemates. Like a deer in the headlights, Liz is frozen in the act of loading laundry into a green garbage bag, while Boris looks up from where he’s hunched on the floor trying to screw a bedside table together under Natasha’s watchful gaze. Incredibly, he’s holding the screwdriver wrong. Maggie didn’t think that was possible. But when she looks at Natasha, she’ struck by the dramatic clash of red hair and bruises.
“Oh god Nat, sorry, sorry, I didn’t know you were coming home today!”
“Hey Mags, what’d you think …” Natasha grins, “Oh I get it, you thought I was getting burgled.”
“Uh, yeah but …”
“That’s sweet, Maggs, but don’t do anything that stupid again okay? My toys cost a bomb but everything’s insured. Not worth getting a friend hurt over.” She waves her hand dismissively and suddenly Maggie dissolves in great gasping sobs and her tears start to fall.
Boris looks like he wants to bolt, so when Natasha tells him to “Shoo” he’s out the door in record time, while Liz stuffs the last of the laundry into the bag, then rises with alacrity, hefting the full sack, she says, “I’ll just take this down, then.”
Natasha nods. “Thanks Liz. I really owe you girl.”
Natasha raises her arms to Maggie, who crosses the room and sits on the bed and Natasha gathers Maggie into a hug and Maggie sobs on her shoulder as Liz flashes a smile and beats a hasty retreat away from Maggie’s messy meltdown.
Unsure why Maggie needs comforting, though clearly she does, Natasha awkwardly pats Maggie’s hair and slowly the crying eases. Finally Maggie detaches herself, “I’m so sorry Nat.” Her red rimmed eyes dart around the room and Natasha tells her, “On the dresser.” Maggie grabs the box of tissues and mops her face, blowing her nose, then depositing the soggy things in the waste basket. Standing by the dresser again Maggie looks awkward.
“Okay, Maggie, you seem to have scared Bo off, but that’s probably for the best since he lacks affinity for tools. Maybe you could put the rest of the night table together while we talk?”
Maggie nods and kneels beside the nightstand box. Fitting the bits together she busies herself with furniture assembly. Mercifully, building furniture frees her from having to look Natasha in the eye. Maggie says, “I’m sorry you got attacked.”
“That makes two of us,” agrees Natasha equably. She knows there’s more, but she watches Maggie work, giving her time.
Maggie inverts the partially finished table, screwing on supports and attaching the back and she says, “It’s all my fault.”
Natasha frowns, “What’s all your fault?”
“Your attack.”
“No offense Mags, but that’s nuts. You didn’t attack me.”
“If I’d gone to the cops it wouldn’t have happened.”
“What, you could have stopped me from getting raped? You know who did it?”
“Kind of, well, not exactly. It’s just that I never reported the flasher.”
Natasha shakes her head, “I wasn’t flashed, I was hit over the head and raped. Two very different things.”
“But they’ve arrested the flasher. If I’d gone to the police it wouldn’t have happened.”
Natasha shakes her head. “Maybe it was the same guy, I don’t know. But I bet the penalty for flashing is isn’t very much.”
“But, still.”
“So even if you made a report and the cops went to the trouble to find him, he’d probably be back out there attacking somebody sooner or later. Harder to catch maybe.”
“Hmmm, I never thought of that.”
“And until they get the guy, we won’t really know. I mean, it might be anybody.”
“But if it was the flasher…”
“It really doesn’t matter. Flasher or no, the only one to blame is the asshole who attacked me, Maggie, not you. Not your fault any way you slice it. You may have made an error in judgment but even that’s not cut and dried. I made a error in judgment wandering around out there by myself.”
“It’s not your fault. You’re the victim here.”
“Yeah, and I hate like hell being a victim, but you know, I wouldn’t have gone to the cops over a flasher. Comedians have made them the butt of jokes forever.”
“But–”
“No, Maggie, butt.” Natasha says, “That was a joke,” but clearly Maggie isn’t laughing. “Look, Maggie, you can’t fix the world and all the bad stuff that happens isn’t your fault.”
Maggie finishes screwing in the last screw. “I still feel bad.”
“Hell, girl, you think you feel bad? You can’t possibly feel as bad as I feel.”
“I have to admit I’ve never seen anybody with skin the colour of yours.” Maggie turns the night table right side up. “Which is your favorite, the fuchsia or the green?”
Maggie says, “The fuchsia, definitely.”
Maggie is trying not to smile as she tucks all the packaging into a plastic bag. “So, the night stand is finished. What do you want on it?”
“The ipad and iphone so I don’t have to move more than necessary.”
Maggie offers to attach the power bar to the night table’s side. Natasha watches rapt, thinking, you just have to keep Maggie busy and every thing’s fine. Would be nice to be so uncomplicated. When Maggie finishes drilling in the screws, the power bar is mounted and plugged into the wall in minutes.
“Wow that’s so great Maggie, thanks.”
Maggie drops her eyes. “It’s the least I could do.”
Natasha looks at her. “You’re responsible for what you do, Maggie, not what anybody else does.”
“Yeah and I’m responsible for what I don’t do too.”
Natasha pushes herself into a sitting position leaning forward on her knees. “Are you trying to drive me nuts?”
Maggie looks up, shakes her head.
“How do I get through to you?”
“I feel what I feel, Nat.” Maggie sets up the night stand.
Natasha looks at her. “What if it’s the wrong guy?”
“I don’t know. Then I guess I wouldn’t feel guilty.”
Perching on the edge of the bed she plugs it in and switches it then settles the iphone onto the shelf below. “There you go, wired for the twenty first century.” Natasha nods.
Maggie drops the screws in the pocket of her robe, and picks up the drill. “If you need anything, just ask. I’d like to help if I can.”
Natasha narrows her eyes. “Do you play backgammon?”
