A Little Piece of Another Life

"Henry, take the garbage out."

A primeval moaning rose from the alley behind the house. "It's hungry," Mona said. "The neighbors are going to complain."

"You said you'd take it out during the commercial." Mona moved in front of him, blocking his view. Even covered by a baggy gray Diamondbacks sweatshirt, her breasts caught his attention. Especially the middle one.

"It's only the second inning, Henry. He'll bat again."

Mona raised her hands to the heavens, then dropped them to her sides, causing her breasts to wobble. Henry's eyes swung toward them, focusing on the middle one. In ten years of marriage Mona hadn't let him touch that one. She was a respectable woman. She settled into the empty recliner. "Take it out after Prodigious bats. Promise."

"Homer," Henry pleaded.

Prodigious struck out. "Damn," said Mona.

The moan from the alley became a shriek. Mona sprang out of the recliner. She walked behind Henry, pausing to slap the back of his head.

She picked up the two bottles from the end table. "You come home from the warehouse every night, plant your ass in the recliner and don't get up the rest of the night except to go to the bathroom or if you want sex."

Another shriek.

"Neighbors." His tone carried the disgust of the ages.

"Beer."

"Myself."

"Middle."

On the television, retired Diamondbacks outfielder Barry Steroid held up a bottle of Ball Game Beer. "It's what the major leaguers drink. Come on, get in the game."

A shriek that rattled the windows. Mona hurried into the kitchen and threw the bottles into the plastic garbage container under the sink. She'd heard rumors of glass being shattered by a creature's shriek.

"Oh, hi Edna . . . Henry will feed it right away . . . I promise."

"Middle."

The doorbell rang. A burly policeman stood on the porch. He held a citation book. "Mona, this is getting old."

Henry grunted.

"I know. I appreciate your patience."

Mona covered the book with her hand. "I'll make sure Henry takes care of it right away."

"It'll be done. I promise."

Mona slammed the door. Did he really think she hadn't seem him look at her that way? But she couldn't dwell on it; the garbage had to go out. She ought to call for a volunteer from the local church. That would show Henry. But, slug though he was, he didn't deserve that kind of humiliation.

"Sex." He grinned.

"Middle."

"Annie," Henry said, as if reading her mind. He sagged back into the recliner. His eyes teared up.

"Home."

"Childhood."

Howls from the alley. The rattle of steel bars. She had to do something. "Okay, Henry. Just this once."

Mona cupped her middle breast, still covered by her inner bra. "I'm talking the middle one here." God, what would her mother say if she knew?

"Yes. Middle."

"Garbage first."

"Henry, it's alive, it feels pain, even if it is genetically engineered." She touched her middle breast again. "Last chance."

The howls stopped. The rattling of the bars died away. Henry could see it hopping up and down in the cage beyond the chain link fence. A glance back showed a single light on in the kitchen. The bedroom window was dark.

Henry trundled the cart across the yard. "Beer." He grinned. At the back gate he said, "Game." He punched in the code on the gate's key pad. "Middle." He laughed and clapped his hands three times before rolling the cart up to the cage.

Henry took the bags out of the cart and set them down on the gravel. "Food."

"Sorry I haven't fed you for a few days."

"I know. I really am sorry." He opened the cage door and tossed the bags inside, then locked the door.

"I've been kind of depressed. My job sucks. And we only see Annie a couple of times a year."

"And Mona's so repressed about the middle breast thing." He turned and started to push the cart away.

"Thanks." He pushed the cart down the alley and into the back yard, locking the gate behind him. Ahead, the light had been turned on in the bedroom. "Yeah!" he yelled, echoed by the creatures of the alley.