Giving Shit

Edward Julian Watson was feeling rather numb. It had been a long, rainy drive home from his mother’s house. The night before had been long, lying awake, in his old room. And Edward Julian Watson also had not eaten anything, since shoving his face full of Double Big Macs from McDonalds the evening before, an hour after getting out of jail.
And now it was evening again.
All of this combined contributed greatly to the numbness Edward Julian Watson was feeling. But his brain was contributing more.
He made grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, but even standing over the hot stove did not take the numbness out of his bones, let alone his mind.

Becki was feeling rather numb too. It was not her mother’s mention, during dinner, of, “You look pale tonight, dear. Are you coming down with something?” that made her aware of the numbness she was experiencing, but it was not happening because she was becoming ill.
She knew that putting Edward Julian Watson in jail had been too much.
And she was also feeling terribly frozen because Edward Julian Watson had found her last night, after she left her mother’s house and he had followed behind her, in his car, almost all the way back to her home. Screaming at her. Becki was starting to wonder if Edward Julian Watson was the ill one.
Becki hoped that he would call her. She did not have enough nerve to call him.
Passed-out drunk from Ms. Johnson’s rum, Becki stopped feeling numb around 7 o’clock Tuesday morning. The headache was terrible.

He called her three days later.
“Well, do you have something to say?” He said, not even bothering with hello.
She countered, “Like what, Edward?”
“Like how about I’m sooooory…” Indignation rose in Edward Julian Watson’s voice.
It was the wrong thing to say.
“What do you want me to be sorry about, Edward?”
“You know what, Becki. I could have been having an emergency. A car-accident or something-“
“It could have been the case, Edward” Becki was agreeable, “but we both know it was not.”
“I have you figured out, Becki. I understand you.. You’re jealous. I know you want to marry me and-“
“I want to marry you? I am jealous of…-?” Becki asked
“Yes, you want to marry-“
The calmness of her voice suddenly surprised them both. “I want to marry you, Edward?…..Are you fucking kidding me ?”
When Edward Julian Watson did not answer her quick enough, Becki hung-up the phone on him.

And Edward Julian Watson knew a few minutes later that he had approached the conversation in completely the wrong manner. But because she had not said sorry to him, he was not going to call her back after she had hung-up on him.
So then Edward Julian Watson got back on to thinking, ’Well, what if there had been a car accident… or something?’, until he caught Orange looking at him. The kitten was sitting inside one of his running shoes. That’s when Edward Julian Watson realized he wasn’t feeling numb anymore. Because that’s when Edward Julian Watson simultaneously realized that Becki probably wouldn’t care if he died in an accident…or something and that Orange was not sitting in his shoe, he was pissing in it.