Mr. Smith decided his neighbor Ms. Fields would be an ideal first victim. He had fairly regular access to her—he had mowed her lawn every week over the summer and now it would be raking season. He could also tell she pitied him, though she masked it under politeness—she would often invite him to stay for dinner, play sympathetic about the time he spent alone, and ask about girls at school. As much as he loathed being tormented, pity was much worse. A plan began to form. Mr. Smith would teach her he was in no need of pity.
His first step would be to learn more about Ms. Fields and gain her trust. So the next week, after he had mown her lawn, Mr. Smith accepted her invitation for dinner. She was quite surprised. Mr. Smith did his best to tune-in to her thoughts. They were more erratic than Dr. Farmer’s. Ms. Field’s thoughts flitted from her empty refrigerator to her dirty home to the pornography and vibrators in her bedroom to the numbers for pizza to how long it had been since she had a man in her home and back again.
“You’ll have to excuse the mess. I don’t have company very often”
“I don’t mind.”
“How about pizza for dinner?”
“Sure. Any kind would be fine,” He read her thought before she spoke it.
Her house was a mess. Yet he could tell more from that mess than the runaway train of her thoughts. Wine glasses and rumpled blankets in front of the TV. Mr. Smith wagered if turned on the TV it would be on Lifetime or Oxygen or some other women’s empowerment crap. Lots of pictures of her and Daddy, none of any boyfriends. Degree hanging from the wall. General untidiness. It all matched up with what Mr. Smith could see in her thoughts—she was lonely, she didn’t like sleeping in her big bed alone, she believed in true love, she wished someone would come in and take care of her, but she was proud of her independence.
As they made their small talk, Mr. Smith did his best to reinforce any feelings of comfort, ease any feelings of loneliness. By the time the pizza arrived, Mr. Smith could see the embers of attraction beginning to glow. This was moving much faster than Mr. Smith had anticipated. As he ate his pizza, Mr. Smith tried to decide how far to press forward tonight.
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