I'm Pretty Sure I Can Find Our Way Back
By mauichuck1
Published: October 17, 2009
Updated: October 17, 2009

“I’m pretty sure I can find our way back.” I told her this, to offer some sort of excuse or reason that she could hang on to, make sense of it all. Why we were standing in the middle of Central Park, snow around us, freezing our tails off. It was Friday and we had only been there, in the city, not even a whole week, but we both knew now, it was a horrible choice.

Just seven days ago, we were together in our home across the river, sitting next to the fireplace, listening to our roommates talk about the usual relationship crap. Our one roommate Matt was about twenty-nine; he came from California and was a decent writer, from what I’ve read. She was awful. We both agreed she was the devil. His girlfriend sat around the house all day long smoking on the patio, drinking on the sofa, and thumbing through month-old magazines that I can only assume she stole from a beauty salon. That didn’t make her her a bad person though, I would do the same thing, if I could get a way with it. No, she was bad because of the way she treated Matt. Every day, he’d hit the pavement, take the subway into the city and apply and interview at newspaper offices, magazine makers, whatever a writer would apply at to find work. I’m obviously not a writer. I can’t put words together as eloquently as Matt could, nor do I really want to. But every day when matt would come home, defeated and tired, she would jump all over him, and not in a good way.

“Did you get any work?” It started off mild.

“No luck today, maybe tomorrow, right?”

“Maybe tomorrow?...maybe tomorrow?! Every fuckin' day it's maybe tomorrow. You told me we would be living the high life in the city, going to parties, meeting famous people, and I sit here every day waiting for tomorrow. Matt? What about today? What about goddamn today?!!”

Something at this point goes crashing against the wall, not to hit him, but for dramatic effect. I walked over to see what it was. A dish, one point for me. My girl and I put up with this shit so often, you have to make a game of it. She gets a point for glasses, I get a point for dishes. She gets a point for masturbation, I get one for fucking. Matt and his girl, that is, not us.

Matt’s girl was smoking hot though, and the amount of times she’d undress or walk around half naked in front of me, well I stopped counting because there was a half naked girl in front of me. Her name was Benny, and she was hot and she was mean, and when she fucked Matt, it honestly felt like Matt was getting fucked.

“I want today, Matt. Today, for something to happen. I’m sick of waiting for tomorrow.” She started to calm.

He walked over to embrace her.

She struggled a little before giving in. Then right there on the dining table, I started to score point after point after point.


Exactly one week ago, after the evening fighting had ceased and my girl was receiving multiple points simultaneously, one from him in the bathroom, and one from her on the bed, I saw a story on the floor that Matt wrote.

It moved me.

Inspired me.

Took me away from my cozy home, to freezing my ass off here in the city.

It went like this:


My best friend Jesse, and his girl Sonia, actually they’re both my best friends, Sonia too. Their support, love and presence are my motivation to keep going, to keep trying, and to keep writing. I want them to have a better life, better than mine, because without them I wouldn’t know some of the most important fundamentals in the world. Patience, compassion, peace. Their support, day in and day out, has saved me from being a statistic. Their friendship has rescued me from the darkest depths a human could reach. They know me completely, like nobody else could. They’ve seen me at my most desperate times, my most embarrassing moments, and they still love me. I really don’t know what they see in me, and I hope it’s there, because when I make it big, they will be coming with me.

I guess it was just a note, or an appreciative thought, but it moved me. It moved me to do something crazy. I was going to help Matt submit his writings to everyone in the city. Look at this piece of work, he’s brilliant. He obviously can describe Sonia and I perfectly, we are all those things he wrote, maybe even more, about time somebody recognized it. Plus, if he does make it, you read it: he’s taking us to the top with him. We can get away from that crazy bitch Benny. What kind of name is that anyways, Benny? Although you should hear some of my friends' names: Sailor, Patch, Fu Man Chu. Sonia has a friend name Sweetness, and no they're not strippers, they like to walk around naked, but they’re not getting paid. No more Benny, no more plates, dishes crashing around the apartment, yelling, cursing. It would be Xanadu. I had to help him. This is what my life has led up to. I mean, I don’t have a job, no source of income, this would be my contribution.

“Sonia do you want to come with, a little adventure?”

She said yes, and we were off.

We stuffed a collection of writing, stories, and poems in Sonia’s sweater and started toward the big city. And when we got there I was so surprised how much racism still existed.

Every place I went to, I was met with a slammed door to the face, or a very non-compassionate “GO HOME!”

I couldn’t help Matt, what was I thinking. We were sleeping in the park living off of discarded food the pigeons didn’t get to first, and it was horrible.

I actually ate trash.

Sonia looked at me, “You’re an animal.”

“I know, I know, I'm sorry.”

“Just get us out of this” she was looking at me like how Benny looked at Matt. That hurt.

“I’m pretty sure I can find our way back.”

A lady and her child were walking toward us, smiling oddly with their hands out. They kept getting closer, and closer. What’s wrong with them?

Closer and closer.

“Honey get ready to run,” I whispered to Sonia.

Closer and closer, and then…

“Hiiiii there… how are youuu…”

She sounded deranged.

“Are you lost? Where’s your home at?”

Deranged, but nice I guess, she started to scratch me behind my ear. I love that. Don’t stop.

She made her son give us the end of his hot dog. I ate it without offering any to Sonia.

She grabbed her son, “Say good bye, Billy.”

Sonia looked at me like I just sold my ass for twenty bucks.

“What?” I said, avoiding her eyes.

“So now what?” she said, dismissing the incident.

“Do you wanna earn some points?” I winked at her.

“C’mon, you,” she said, and I followed her into the bushes.

Quite the opposite, I thought, wagging my tail.

Tomorrow, we’ll go home.