Petey - 1. Petey

I first met Petey shortly after I started working with Donny. Though “met” is not the right word; it is more like “encountered” or “became aware of.” Donny and I were having lunch together—or as “together” as two barely acquainted co-workers sitting at the same lunch table could be—when Donny had reached in his wallet to get a buck for a soda and a bunch of papers had spilled out. I reached down to pick up one that had floated down by my feet and noticed it was a photograph. I raised my eyebrows in curiosity but didn’t ask when Donny snatched the picture from my fingers and mumbled a “thanks” before quickly shoving it back into his wallet. I really didn’t think much more of it at the time. I was too busy thinking how adorable Donny looked when he blushed to think about why he was blushing.

I had noticed Donny the moment I had walked into the office for the first time. He was sitting at the desk in the cubicle across from mine and I have to say that my heart actually skipped a beat when the boss introduced us. Donny looked up at me and smiled and butterflies started flying around in my chest. A few of them flew straight down to my groin. My gaydar went off like sirens blasting in my ear. No man could be that pretty and not be gay—not if there was a god in heaven and all was right with the world.

He blushed when I reached out my hand to shake his. I think he had me completely from that point on.

It didn’t take long to find out my gaydar had been mercifully on target. Donny didn’t make any secret of being gay. Not that he could have really hidden it—not from someone who was paying attention. Donny was definitely femme. It wasn’t that he looked like a woman; he looked very much like a man. But his features were fine and soft and his eyes were limpid and as blue as two pools of water that I just wanted to fall into and drown in… Yes, he made me think things like that. But he wasn’t that swishy sort of femme that can get annoying. He was just…soft and sweet and pretty much everything that a stereotypical woman was supposed to be but—in my experience—seldom was. And I responded to that. I had always been attracted to those more feminine traits. I liked everything that normally came in a female package—except I preferred the design of the male body.

So Donny became something of my obsession from the beginning. I tried to ignore the photos on his desk, the ones of him and another guy. There were other photos, too. I reasoned that maybe he just liked photos. Sure, I was snatching at straws, but obsession willingly ignores fact.

Alex. That was his name, the other guy in the photos. He was about my height, which is 6’3,” and decent looking. Not handsome. I could hold a candle to him. He and Donny had been together for 7 years. But Donny was the loyal type, I could tell that. Though as I got to know him more, I suspected he was more the “I’m safely in a relationship and don’t want to mess with that” type. Donny was shy and insecure. I couldn’t imagine what a guy who looked like Donny would have to be insecure about, but he was. He really had no clue how beautiful he was. He could have been a model. Or a stripper. I liked to think of him as a stripper, in my fantasies. I liked to imagine him standing in front of me, slowly moving his hips back and forth, turning around and wiggling his edible little ass in front of me as he peeled off one article of clothing at a time. Then he would lower that delicious ass slowly down on my throbbing cock and ride me like a cowboy.

I tried very hard not to let that fantasy into my head while I was at my desk—10 feet from his. I managed…sometimes. Other times…well…the men’s room was 23 short, hurried, potentially embarrassing steps away from my desk. I spent a bit more time in the men’s room than I should have.

I’m a nice guy and a decent-looking guy. So Donny really can’t be blamed for letting me get close to him—especially when I made a serious effort. We became friends. Close friends. We’d have lunch together just about every day; and when overtime was needed, I’d order take out and we’d share that while we worked together. I got to learn a lot about Donny. I shared quite a bit of myself with him, too.

One thing I got to learn about Donny was that he was very sentimental and romantic. He told me how he and Alex met. It was on a ferry going across Boston Harbor, from Hull to Boston. He was on vacation and Alex was commuting to work. Alex had bumped into him and Donny had spilled his coffee all over him. The apologies had turned to attraction—or, in Donny’s words—“love at first sight.” Donny had moved in with Alex shortly afterwards and had gotten a job in a building near where Alex worked. They still took the ferry to work at least once a week—because it was where they met.

It sounded to me like Alex had orchestrated that whole thing, the bumping into and such. It would have been what I would likely have done. I could understand that instant attraction. I could also understand how easy it would be to manipulate Donny. Donny was, as I said, sentimental and romantic. He was also innocent and trusting. He would never think that you didn’t mean exactly what you said. If you made a promise, it would never occur to him that you wouldn’t keep it.

So when he smelled the strange cologne on the collar of Alex’s shirt, he had just assumed that Alex had been shopping and had tested a different cologne. It was probably wrong of me to suggest it might have been anything else.

“You test cologne on your wrist, though, not the collar of your shirt.”

Wasn’t that how most people did it? It was an innocent enough observation.

“Maybe he rubbed his wrist against his collar,” Donny had responded, which was reasonable enough. But I knew a little seed had been planted. I could see it in the tiny little frown between his eyes.

Yes, it was wrong of me to have done that. It was probably even more wrong of me to have been the one to put the “different cologne” on Alex’s collar.

I first saw Alex in the flesh one afternoon when he had come to the office to take Donny out to lunch. It had been a surprise, one that obviously delighted Donny. I hadn’t been quite so delighted. As soon as I saw him, I knew I was in trouble…with that “I could hold a candle to him” bit. Photos didn’t do him justice. It wasn’t that he was more handsome in person. He was still just decent looking, really. But he had a presence. And it was obvious he knew what—or who—was his. And when he looked at me it was also obvious he knew I wanted what was his. It wasn’t that he looked at me and snarled, or anything like that. Really, he wasn’t anything but pleasant. But when he glanced at Donny and then back at me and smiled, the smile stopped just short of his eyes. And when he put his hand on the small of Donny’s back and started heading toward the door, the smile didn’t change but the flash in his eyes was possessive. Possessive, not jealous--because he was sure of what he had.

I’m not really a confrontational person. I’m not into getting into other people’s faces and challenging them to a fight—physical or verbal. But I know when a gauntlet is being thrown at my feet. I had never actually picked one up, but then, I had never been as obsessed with anyone as I was with Donny.

So I spent some time thinking about Alex. And I spent some time thinking about Donny. And I spent some time thinking about Alex and Donny and how I was going to break them up.

The idea came to me one morning when Donny looked up at me and smiled as I walked past his cubicle to mine. “You’re wearing a new cologne. What is it?”

I stood there just looking at him for a moment—something that was not at all an effort to do. I smiled and turned away to set my briefcase down on my desk and surreptitiously sniffed myself. I wasn’t wearing a new cologne, but I could smell it.

I laughed. “I guess I must have brushed against someone in the elevator.” I made a point of obviously sniffing the sleeve of my jacket and then held out my arm to Donny.

He grinned and blushed as he nodded. “Yeah, that’s it.”

I had the thought that he was blushing because he had noticed the “different” smell—which meant he knew what I normally smelled like. My dick twitched in my pants and I quickly sat down at my desk.

The idea didn’t precisely leap to my mind at that moment, but it flitted around the edges of my thoughts all day. I suppose it started to take shape as I stood next to Donny as we rode the elevator down to the parking garage at the end of the day.

“You know, I really like that cologne. I wish I knew what it was,” he said as he leaned a little closer to me and breathed in. “Alex always wears the same one. Not that I don’t like it…” he added hastily, as if maybe Alex might suddenly appear and be offended, “but something new would be nice.”

“I’ll keep a nose out for you,” I said with a laugh. “If I smell it on anyone in the elevator, I’ll ask what it is.”

Donny giggled—yes, he giggled. “Excuse me, you smell so nice. What are you wearing?” he said in his absolutely gayest voice.

I almost groaned because really, I just wanted him right there, right then. But I laughed instead and pulled my briefcase closer against my twitching dick. “Yeah, I’d either get a date or get decked.”

“You’d get a date,” Donny said immediately, then looked at me in a funny way and blushed to the roots of his blonde hair.

I felt my cheeks warming and realized that I was blushing also. Maybe it was because I was thinking that this was possibly the first time that Donny had ever thought of me in that way. Or at least it was the first time he had ever let slip that he thought of me in that way. To be sure, it wasn’t exactly a declaration of desperate desire, but at least it was an acknowledgement, sort of, that I was date worthy—and that he had noticed that. Not exactly a Hallmark moment, but, I told myself, we had both felt it enough to blush.

By the time we stepped off the elevator and into the parking garage, that idea I had started to form into an actual plan.

By the time I had showered, dressed and had my second cup of coffee the next morning, I had the plan mostly worked out.

Picking out the cologne was more difficult than I had expected. My first thought was to get the cheapest, strongest smelling cologne I could find, something that would be sold in drugstores everywhere, something that would just scream “cheap whore.” But then, I really couldn’t see Alex with someone like that, not after being with Donny. No, if Alex were to cheat on Donny, it would have to be with someone who offered more than Donny could offer—or why do it? “Sweaty jockstrap” was the next thought I had, figuring maybe he might go for some muscled out body builder. But then I really couldn’t see him with someone like that either. My guess was that Donny was exactly Alex’s type and that if he were to stray, it would be to a slightly different version of Donny. If it were to be a trading up sort of thing, the guy would have to be fairly high class, an executive or CEO type. That type would not wear cheap cologne. So I passed by the local Rite Aid and drove out to the mall.

It didn’t take me long to find a store that sold expensive cologne. The sales clerk was very helpful when I told him I was looking for a gift for someone special. A few questions later, he presented me with a scent that was “discreet and elegant.” I did a fairly good job at suppressing a flinch when I handed him my credit card. It was for a good cause, I told myself. And it was a nice scent, even if I’d never be able to wear it myself, not after using it to break up Alex and Donny.

Figuring out just how to get the scent onto Alex’s collar without first getting it on myself was the real trick though. Accidentally brushing against him wouldn’t work. I’d have to brush against him in a very obvious way to get the scent anywhere near his neck. I couldn’t see that happening. Having someone else accidentally brush against him in that way might work—except the one person I knew who probably would do something like that was my ex (who would do just about anything if it would cause trouble), but I wouldn’t trust him to keep silent about it afterwards.

But something would come to me. I had committed myself to this plan and it was only a matter of time before I figured out that one little pesky detail.

As it happened, the pesky little detail resolved itself one afternoon a week later. Alex came to meet Donny for lunch, as he did at least once a week. It had been raining that morning, a chilly October rain, but the sun had come out and the afternoon had turned warm. Before going out, Alex removed his coat and laid it over Donny’s chair. I could have jumped up and danced. They say opportunity knocks, but here it was positively banging on the door.

The bottle of cologne was very small, small enough to fit nicely in a zippered sandwich bag, along with a folded up paper towel and a latex glove. I kept this tool kit in the file drawer of my desk, waiting for the right moment to present itself. So after Alex and Donny left, I walked to the lunch room and got my lunch from the fridge and returned to my desk. There were only a few people in the lunch room and I noted as I walked through the office that the cubicles were mostly empty. The office pretty much emptied out at lunch time, especially on a nice day.

I opened my file drawer, removed my tool kit and proceeded to put my “Adios, Alex” plan into action. I put on the latex glove and opened the bottle of cologne. Without removing it from the plastic bag, I reached in and removed the top and pressed the paper towel over the open bottle. I tipped it just enough to get a very small amount onto the paper towel. I replaced the top, stood up and walked over to Donny’s cubicle. I lifted Alex’s coat just enough to expose the inside of the collar and lightly touched the paper towel to the fabric. I didn’t want the scent to be obvious; I wanted it to be something Donny wouldn’t notice until he got close. Satisfied with my work, I put the paper towel back in the plastic bag and carefully slipped off the latex glove without touching the fingers and dropped it into the bag, as well. I quickly walked to the bathroom and, in case any scent might linger on the bag, washed the bag and my hands with soap and water. I then returned to my desk and slipped the bag inside another plastic bag I had also concealed in my file drawer.

I smiled as I ate my lunch. I had set the wheels in motion, now it would only be a matter of time.

Yes, I know, it was all very wrong of me.

The phone calls were probably just as wrong. I made them from one of those prepaid cell phones you can buy everywhere. I knew how to disguise my voice fairly well, thanks to two years of drama class in college. I figured if Alex answered or if a machine picked up, I’d just hang up. Their machine picked up the first two times. The third time Donny answered.

“Alex?” I asked in a voice that held just a trace of a difference, not an accent precisely, just a difference.

“No, this is Donny, Alex isn’t here right now.”

I could hear it in his voice, not outright suspicion but a definite question.

“I’m sorry, I must have the wrong number.” I hung up and sat there, my pulse racing. It was exciting. I waited a little while and called again. Donny answered the phone again. This time I just hung up without saying anything.

I thought of Donny on the other end of the phone and could picture him, that little frown between his eyes, the look of puzzlement on his face. Maybe suspicion was starting to form. Maybe it had formed already and was starting to build. I hoped so.

I noticed the change in Donny the very next day at work. He looked distracted, preoccupied. At lunch he barely spoke but kept looking at me like he wanted to say something.

After a few days of letting that go without comment, I switched into sympathetic friend mode. “Donny, I can tell something’s on your mind. Things ok at home?”

Donny looked at me quickly and then looked down. “I-I’m not sure,” he replied very quietly.

I sighed audibly and nodded. “What’s wrong?” I asked, and reached out my hand to let my fingers just brush against his.

Donny was silent for a moment and I noticed he didn’t pull his hand away. Then he spoke, the words rushing together as if speaking them quickly might make them go away, “I think Alex is seeing someone else.”

“I can’t imagine that,” I responded immediately. “You and Alex have been together for a long time and I see the way he looks at you.”

Donny shook his head slightly. “First there was that cologne on his collar. I asked him about it, figuring he would tell me he had been shopping and had tested a new cologne; but he said he had no idea how it had gotten on his collar. He didn’t even try to make up a reason.”

“Maybe he really didn’t know? If he had done anything wrong, wouldn’t he have made up something?” Of course he would have. Who would believe a simple “I don’t know”? Who would be stupid enough to say something like that unless he were telling the truth?

Donny shook his head again. “Maybe, but it isn’t just that. There have been phone calls…”

Two the first day, one the second, one the third. About the same time each day, when Donny was home but before Alex got home. I had my timing worked out well.

“What do you mean phone calls?” I asked with a slight frown. My fingers crept a little further up Donny’s hand.

Donny looked up at me and I almost felt guilty. He had the saddest look in his eyes. “The first time he thought I was Alex and when I said Alex wasn’t home, he said he must have the wrong number. Then a few minutes later the phone rang again and I answered it and whoever it was just hung up.”

“It could have just been a wrong number,” I said, though I was careful to add just a touch of doubtfulness into my voice.

Donny shook his head again. “I don’t think so. Three days in a row someone has called just about the same time and has hung up when I answered.” He sighed. “I saw a movie like that once.”

I had seen a movie like that once, too. But in the one I had seen, the caller was in league with the man’s wife and was trying to make the husband think his wife was having an affair. That was a bit too close to the truth and I hoped that Donny was remembering a different movie or not remembering it correctly. So I nodded and pretended I had seen the same movie he had.

“The caller was having an affair with the man’s wife, right?”

Donny nodded. “Yeah.”

I sighed and wrapped my fingers around Donny’s. “Donny, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe Alex would do something like that. Though it could be possible that the calls are just coincidence and are really just wrong numbers…” I let my voice trail off, making sure it sounded like I didn’t believe my own words.

I guess I’m not exactly a criminal mastermind because I really couldn’t think of anything else I could do to further along the idea that Alex was having an affair. I doubted that I’d get another opportunity to do the “cologne on the collar” trick, though I did keep my tool kit in my desk just in case. So I just kept up with the phone calls and kept offering a sympathetic ear. But that seemed to be enough because as the days went on, I could tell things were getting more and more strained in the Alex/Donny household. Donny’s lunchtime conversation went from sad and disbelieving to bitchy and spiteful. I had all I could do some days to keep from rubbing my hands together in glee.

Things came to a head two weeks later. I was sitting in my apartment, lounging on the couch and watching TV when the doorbell rang. It was Donny.

“I’ve left Alex,” he said, standing in the hall holding a small overnight bag, tears trickling down his cheeks.

I quickly ushered him inside and shut the door. I put my arms around him and the tears turned from a trickle into a torrent.

“I-I can’t believe this is happening. I-I never would have…” he sobbed silently for a moment then pulled away from me slightly and looked up, his eyes red and stricken—yes, that is the word I would use. They were definitely stricken. “And he won’t let me have Petey!” he wailed, his face crumpling pitifully as he buried his face in my shoulder and sobbed even harder.

“Petey?” I asked, my fingers stroking his soft hair. Who the hell was Petey? A cat or a dog? Had he ever mentioned a pet? A kid? Surely he would have mentioned a kid…

Donny sniffed. “Our c-cactus.”

Cactus? He was crying over a cactus? I would have laughed if it had been anyone else but Donny. I might have even laughed then if I hadn’t been so caught up in the smell of Donny’s hair. Coconut.

“Come sit down,” I said, leading him to the couch. I handed him the box of tissues. “Let me get you something to drink and we can talk.”

I suppose I could have gotten him a glass of water or a soda, but the occasion just seemed to call for a nice glass of wine.

“Here,” I said as I handed him the glass, “this will calm you down a bit.”

“I don’t drink wine well. Two glasses and I’m ready for bed.”

I could say that I forgot that he had told me that, but I hadn’t. In fact, I was counting on it.

Donny smiled slightly and thanked me.

“So tell me about Petey,” I said with an encouraging smile.

“He was just a little thing when we got him.” He had wiped his eyes and had stopped crying, but I could see his lips tremble.

“He was sitting there looking so pathetic, all small and half-dead. Alex wanted to get one of the others, one of the stronger ones, but I couldn’t just let him sit there and die. I knew no one else would take him.”

I took his glass and refilled it.

Donny smiled and his eyes warmed. “We took him home and I named him Petey. I don’t know where the name came from; it just popped into my head. And I told Alex that I knew he would make it, that I knew he couldn’t die because he was ours, the very first thing we had bought together, for our apartment.”

His lip trembled more and I could see the tears forming in his eyes. “Alex and I would talk to him, and we would carry him into whatever room we were in so he would always feel our love.”

The tears were flowing freely now. “Alex said he is staying in the apartment, whether I stay or go. He says he belongs there and I can’t take him away.”

I filled his glass again.

“But I won’t let him have him! I won’t have him living with someone who would lie and cheat and break promises.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “He promised he would love me forever. And Petey.”

He promised he would love Petey forever, too? I blinked. The cactus?

Donny set the empty glass down on the coffee table and reached into his pocket and took out his wallet. He fumbled with it, his fingers unsteady. After a moment of looking through pieces of paper, he pulled out a picture. I recognized it immediately as the one that had fallen out of his wallet on that day.

“This is Petey,” he said as he held the picture out to me. “He said he would love us forever.”

I took the picture and stared at it for a moment. A cactus… When I went to hand it back to Donny, I noticed his head had fallen back against the couch. His eyes were closed and his mouth was open. He was asleep. I laughed a little. I guessed “ready for bed” meant ready for sleep and not what I had envisioned. Oh well. I got him settled more comfortably on the couch and covered him with a blanket and then went to bed—alone.

“So he says he’s keeping the ca- Petey?” I asked the next morning as I handed Donny a second cup of freshly brewed cappuccino. I had bought the cappuccino maker when I had learned that Donny “would kill for cappuccino." I was getting pretty good at making it the way he liked it—with a little extra milk and a sprinkle of nutmeg on top.

He smiled up at me as he took a sip. “Mmm, better than Starbucks.” He blushed slightly as I smiled back, and I wondered if he had ever had sex on a kitchen table.

“He says he is, but he isn’t.” His voice was just as soft as usual, but there was a defiant edge underneath the softness.

I nodded. “He has no right to keep him.” I wondered what exactly were the laws pertaining to the custody of cactuses…cacti?

Donny shook his head and his eyes flashed. Again, that thought of sex on the kitchen table occurred to me. “No, he doesn’t. He bought that cactus for ME, it was the one I wanted. HE didn’t want Petey in the first place!”

His lip had begun to tremble and I reached out my hand to cover his. “We’ll get Petey,” I assured him. “Don’t you worry about that.” I rubbed my thumb over his hand as I continued. “Right after breakfast we’ll go over to your apartment and get him.”

I had a vision of striding up the stairs—assuming there were stairs—brandishing a sword and banging on the door demanding the release of Petey or else! It was a nice image—especially when I added in Donny’s looking up at me with awe and adoration as I broke down the door.

“You will help me? You’ll get Petey back for me?” Donny’s fingers wrapped around mine as he looked up at me from under his lashes with that same shy smile that had first attacked my groin.

I knew in that moment that I would fight Alex, to the death if necessary, to get Petey back for Donny. I hoped it wouldn’t come to that because confrontation and violence really wasn’t my thing, but some things were just worth fighting for. Like Donny.

It was Saturday. Donny said that Alex always went to the gym Saturday mornings.

“We…” I could hear a strain in his voice as he said the word, “always go at 9 and usually stay until about 11.” It was just after 10 when we stepped off the elevator and onto the 4^th floor of the apartment building. It was one of the newer buildings in the area, very upscale. I knew about what Donny had to be making since we had the same job, so I figured it must be Alex who pulled in the bucks big enough to afford the rent.

“So he won’t be home now?” Donny visibly flinched at the word “home.” Damnit! Why couldn’t I have just said “here” instead of home? Did I have to remind him that this was his and Alex’s home?

He shook his head. “He shouldn’t be. He hasn’t missed a Saturday in all the time we’ve been together. He likes to keep fit, is obsessive about it.”

Donny sighed and I put my hand on his shoulder and rubbed gently in an “I understand” manner. We stood in front of the door for what seemed like forever. Donny just stared at the key in his hand, apparently lost in thoughts that were miles away. I glanced at my watch, thinking that if we didn’t get on with it soon, Alex would be showing up. But then Donny seemed to give himself a mental shake and he put the key in the lock and turned the knob and opened the door.

“Donny!” exclaimed a voice from somewhere off to the right. Alex had apparently missed this one Saturday. “I’ve been worried sick about you! Where have you-“

I chose that moment to step into the apartment behind Donny. Alex’s face instantly turned from concerned relief to angry suspicion.

“Oh, I see,” he all but spat, “your friend from work.” He managed to make friend sound like something unsavory, something more like two-bit whore who thinks he can poach in my waters.

Donny immediately rose to the bait. “What is that supposed to mean?” he demanded, taking a step toward Alex, his cheeks darkening.

“You know damned well what I mean,” Alex countered. “You accuse ME of cheating on YOU so you can run off to be with this…this…” he gestured toward me, his lip curling in disdain and disgust, “piece of-“

He never said what I was a piece of because Donny’s hand slapped the word from his mouth. I had a pretty good idea what the word was, however. I felt insulted. Not really. Actually, I felt fairly amused and just a little impressed with myself. Here Alex had it in his head that I was his competition. Very flattering. I hoped he was right.

Alex didn’t hit Donny back, which was a good thing. Had he done so, I would have had to step in and get physical—which in all likelihood would have ended up with my lying unconscious on the floor. I was in good shape, but I didn’t spend every Saturday at the gym and I had talked my way out of every fight I had ever come close to having.

“How DARE you?” Donny’s voice had risen to a level that I would not have expected it to be able to reach. Donny was always so quiet… “You have the gall to stand there and speak of David like that when he has been nothing but kind to me, a friend not a friend…” he made the second friend sound even worse than Alex had. “But that’s just like you to try to turn things around on me. That’s what liars and cheats do.”

I suppose it was wrong of me to feel aroused by the sight of Donny looking much like an avenging angel, full of righteous rage and indignation as he faced the devil.

I put my hand on Donny’s shoulder. “Don’t bother, Donny,” I said quietly, giving Alex my own version of disdain and disgust. “He’s not worth it. Let’s just get Petey and go.”

Alex gave my hand on Donny’s shoulder such a look of hatred that I nearly pulled it away. I swear I could feel his eyes burning into my skin.

“You will NOT take Petey!” he exclaimed through gritted teeth as he stalked off to what I assumed was Petey’s current location.

“You have no right to keep him!” Donny followed him. I followed Donny.

I remember thinking that I had never heard anyone shriek quite like that as Donny threw every caustic word in his repertoire at Alex. I was impressed by his vocabulary.

I think where I made my mistake was when Donny added pummeling Alex with his fists to his verbal assault. In a moment of sympathy for Alex, I put my hand on Donny’s shoulder to try to get him to stop. Alex, who had not raised a hand to Donny, not even in self-defense, instantly threw a punch at me that hit me square in the nose.

I think I may have passed out, because one moment I was hearing someone banging on the door and threatening to call the cops and the very next moment I was hearing the cops bursting through the door.

They more or less stepped over me as I lay flat on my back holding my nose—which I was absolutely convinced was in pieces—and proceeded to try to break up what was going on between Donny and Alex. I turned my head and saw Donny on Alex’s back, his legs wrapped around his waist. He was howling like a banshee and beating Alex’s shoulders with his fists, apparently trying to take him down. I suppose I would have laughed at the sight if I could have found anything at all funny while lying in a pool of my own blood.

There are laws pertaining to incidents of Domestic Violence. Since Donny and Alex were involved in a “Domestic Partnership,” technically both of them should have been hauled off to jail to at least spend the night. But apparently Donny was known to the older cop, who succeeded, after a slight struggle, in pulling him off Alex and told him to “sit his ass down and stop shrieking like a harpy or he would get on the radio and have his father come down from the station and talk some sense into him.”

Apparently Donny’s father was also a cop, which was something I hadn’t known about Donny. I was starting to think that there were probably a few things I hadn’t known about Donny, like the fact that he was likely as mentally unstable as he was beautiful. I mean, who shrieks and pounds the hell out of someone over a goddamned cactus?

So I got to lie there and listen to the whole story— from the moment Donny smelled the different cologne on Alex’s shirt to the reason we had come back to the apartment—as Donny related it to “Uncle Sean.”

Uncle Sean, good, understanding uncle that he was, glared at Alex at the appropriate times and nodded sympathetically at Donny. “Twenty three years your good Aunt Eileen and I were together, God rest her soul, and not once did I ever so much as look at another woman,” said Uncle Sean. “You young lads these days don’t understand the meaning of commitment.” He shook his finger at Alex. “And it doesn’t matter that Donny boy is not a girl. If you are going to set up house together—which I don’t understand but that’s none of my business—then you should respect him enough to be faithful.”

Alex started to protest that he had been faithful but at this point I could stand no more. Were these people mad?

“Uh, excuse me,” I said through my fingers (I didn’t dare move them because pieces of my nose would likely fall off), “I’m bleeding over here.”

All eyes turned to me and Uncle Sean spoke. “You’ll live. If you go poking your nose where it doesn’t belong, you shouldn’t complain when it gets broke.”

Uncle Sean was just full of wisdom.

I stood up, a little shakily. “You know, I have had enough,” I declared gesturing with the hand that was not holding my nose in place. “I came here to help Donny get his goddamned cactus back because apparently the entire world revolves around Petey. And what do I get in return for my gesture of good will?” I demanded, completely ignoring the fact that my “good will” had been prompted by my desire to get the demented Donny away from Alex and into my bed. “I get called a friend in THAT tone and a piece of—and don’t think I don’t know you were going to say shit before Donny slapped you,” I pointed an accusing finger at Alex. “And then I get punched in the face and will likely need plastic surgery to repair my nose--which I am sure is now broken into pieces and backwards.” I threw my hand up in the air (the other still saving what was left of my nose) and looked from Alex to Donny. “I suppose it never occurred to either of you that maybe, just maybe you could resolve this whole Petey issue if you just split the goddamned plant in two and each of you took half…”

“SPLIT HIM IN TWO?” Donny’s shriek made my ears hurt. “Are you mad?”

At the same time Alex chimed in with, “What a barbaric suggestion! Petey isn’t just a thing you can split in two. He’s family!”

So much for the wisdom of King Solomon. I knew in that moment that I had lost any and all hope of ever getting Donny away from Alex. Donny looked over at Alex and I could see his lip trembling. “You do love Petey,” he said softly.

Alex nodded. “How could I not love him?” he asked, getting up and crossing the room to kneel in front of Donny, who was sitting next to Uncle Sean on the couch. “He is ours, yours and mine. I love him as much as I love you.”

There was no point. Donny was looking at Alex with what could only be described as goo goo eyes. He loved Alex and would forgive him anything—as long as he loved Petey.

I looked over at the potted plant on the table in front of the window. It looked so smug, just sitting there serenely in the sun, ignoring all the drama going on around it. I hated that plant. I hated it more than I hated Alex. If it hadn’t been for Petey, everything would have worked out just as I had planned.

“Goddamned plant!” I exclaimed as I crossed the room. Donny knew what I was going to do. I could see it in his eyes, in the look of absolute horror on his face.

“No!” he cried out, but I got there before he could.

I picked up Petey by his little pencil-like stems and threw him on the floor.

I didn’t notice the little drops of sap on my hands as I covered my nose once more.

It was as I was being released from jail on $1,000 bail (“destruction of property” and “resisting arrest”) that I discovered I was having difficulty breathing and that my fingers were all red and swollen. So was my face, I am told. My eyes were not only black from the broken nose but swollen to the point of being shut. Which was just as well since I discovered I couldn’t really see anyway, not through the burning that made my eyes feel like they were on fire.

Pencil Cactus…Euphorbia tirucalli, also known as Milkbush, is apparently poisonous. Its sap can cause skin irritation, and, in some people, a type of anaphylactic shock. Apparently I’m one of those people.

They gave me a good shot of an antihistamine in the ER, which made things much better very quickly. At least I could breathe. And the swelling went down soon enough. My eyes took a little longer to recover. I was out of work for a week, which was fine with me since really, I planned to find another job as soon as possible.

I didn’t say anything to Donny when I went back to work. He didn’t say anything to me. I got a few looks from our co-workers, but I attributed that to the bandage over my nose—which had been broken and which they also fixed in the ER. No plastic surgery was needed, however.

Alex came to meet Donny for lunch just about every day after that. I don’t know if it was to reinforce to Donny that he loved him and no one else or if it was to shove it in my face that he had won and what was his was still his. I suspect it was a bit of both.

At some point I noticed that Donny had a new picture on his desk. It was of two large pencil cactuses (cacti?) and three tiny ones. All things considered, I didn’t ask; but I assumed they were all part of the original Petey. Only now there was a Mama Petey, a Papa Petey and three Baby Petey’s. A nice little family. Donny and Alex’s family.

I guess there are some things in life that are worth fighting for: love, family, maybe even obsession. But there are also some things it just doesn’t pay to try to fight against. Like Petey.

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