Pieces of Hate by Ray Garton Read Free Book Online Page B

crazy old woman’s story to be true . . . praying that it was true.
    “Now stop crying,” Lynda whispered into her ear. “I’m the dying patient, I’m supposed to be crying.”
    When Lynda tried to pull away, Margaret held on to her and said, “No, not yet. Just a little longer. Please.”
    A moment later, Margaret backed away from the bed, removed her compact from her purse and gasped at her reflection as she sat down in the chair. “Oh, God. I look like a raccoon.” She grabbed a small box of tissues from the bed table and began to clean her face.
    “I’m glad you came to see me, Margaret. I really am. It makes me feel so . . . you know, this might sound stupid, but it makes me feel young. I even feel a little hungry. I might have some Jell-O later.”
    As she reapplied her mascara, Margaret glanced at Lynda, surprised by her sudden surge in energy. She was sitting Indian-style on the bed again, bouncing ever so slightly, like a schoolgirl sharing secrets with her girlfriends at a slumber party.
    Lynda said. “I wish I could go to that reunion with you Saturday night, just to watch, just to see their reactions. You’re gonna knock ’em dead. Are you going to the cocktail party, the dinner, or both?”
    “I don’t even know if I’m going to the damned thing.” Margaret said, slapping her compact shut and slipping it back into her purse. “I think I’d rather spend the weekend with you. You know, I could rent a VCR and hook it up to that thing — ” She nodded toward the television on the wall. “ — and rent a few movies. Wouldn’t that be fun? We could even — ”
    “You can’t be serious, Margaret!” Lynda hissed, leaning forward. “You have to go to that reunion, I mean . . . well, you just have to!”
    “I can’t imagine why.”
    “Cut the false modesty. You know exactly why. Because you’re going to make them sizzle with jealousy. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it. Fat and homely Margaret shows up at the reunion and makes the eyes pop out of all those balding heads, makes hearts pound above all those beer bellies, makes all those former cheerleading sex kittens green with envy. For someone who can hold a grudge for so long. how could you possibly resist such an opportunity? I mean, can you imagine how Albert Huffman would react?”
    “Albert Huffman? Your old boyfriend?”
    “Oh, stop it. You know we didn’t even do it, Albert and me.”
    “You didn’t? But I thought you said — ”
    “I was just being nasty, Margaret. And I’m sorry. But the reason we didn’t do it was that he was a loser, a real zero. You could’ve done so much better.”
    “Hah! I couldn’t even do worse back then.”
    They began to do all the giggling and dishing they had never done as girls. They talked about Becky Gilbert, a cheerleader who had talked Mark Gepper, a butcher’s son, into filling Margaret’s locker with pig’s feet.
    They remembered Daryl Cotch, the quarterback, and Amelia Turner, captain of the cheerleading team, who had been The Couple at school in those days, who had always joked about Margaret whenever she was in earshot; Amelia would say things like, “Stop looking at her, Daryl! I know you’re lusting after her! If I ever catch you two together, I’ll kill you!” and Daryl would say, “But she’s just so gorgeous, Amelia . . . so sexy . . . I can’t keep my eyes off her. She’s incredible!” Then, everyone around Margaret would laugh.
    They laughed about Brandon Lyons, who was rumored to be the most well-endowed male at school; Brandon had been as handsome as he was empty-headed, and he knew he could have any girl on campus. He was forever tormenting Margaret in public: “How come you don’t seem to be interested in me, huh, Maggie? All the other girls are. They can’t wait to get to my love pump! Hey, how about this — you can think of it as a big fat sausage, huh? Does that sound good? You can think of it as food! Maybe a gigantic popsicle! Would that