---

29

---

At some point during the night, Kathy had finally drifted to sleep. When she woke up the next morning, she glanced at the clock and saw that she had overslept and was behind schedule.

She frowned, turned on her side and put her arms around Ed. Only Ed felt a bit... airy this morning. In fact, he felt like--

Like Ed wasn't in the bed at all. Kathy's frown deepened and she pulled the covers down from the bed to reveal, just as she thought, an empty space where her husband should've been lying. But it clearly was no mystery at all where Ed would be located. All she had to do was look at the far end of the living room where the side table sat and she would see him all ablaze on his typewriter.

He had said the previous night that today would be the final day of all the commotion that had occurred in the recent weeks. Well... if it was really over today like he had said... Then Kathy guessed that it was okay for him to torture himself this one last time.

Kathy crawled out of bed, changed her clothes, and walked out of the bedroom and into the living room. She looked at the far end, to the side table and saw...

That Ed was not there at all. There was that big dumb typewriter that sat in the middle of the table, the pile of blank sheets of paper to the side, the other pile that was typed sheets of script... but no Ed.

This came as a shock. Lately, every single morning she had awaken, Ed had always been at the typewriter. And now he wasn't.

Perhaps he'd finished the script? Maybe, just maybe, he was in the kitchen, sitting at the table patiently awaiting his breakfast. Or better yet, maybe he was in the kitchen preparing breakfast for the both of them himself!

Kathy decided that these wacky conclusions she'd been coming to were simply too much wishful thinking. She didn't know where Ed was, but she planned to find out.

Kathy walked into the kitchen with her eyes closed, then after a minute she opened them to reveal... an empty kitchen. She sighed, knowing that she had gotten her hopes up for nothing, and approached the table.

But the kitchen really wasn't empty. No. As she approached the table she saw that there was a piece of stationary paper lying on it.

Kathy picked it up and struggled to read the incomprehensible printing of Ed.

Honey I have to

the store for things.

My thing with the yeah.

It needs the stuff with

you know. Be back later

okay?

Ed

XOXO

Kathy stared thoughtfully at the odd letter for a moment longer before placing it on the counter and leaving the kitchen. She assumed that Ed meant that he went to the store to get something for his typewriter. A new ribbon, some paper, or something along those lines. Although, reading the note had provoked the thought in her head:

If he can barely write a letter properly, then how can he manage a whole script?

But after having read a couple of Ed's scripts over the years, she knew that his script writing and letter writing abilities were as opposite as black and white.

Kathy grabbed her featherduster from a shelf and walked over to the bookcase that stood next to the typewriter side table. As she raised the duster to the top shelf to begin cleaning, the phone rang.

Kathy lowered the duster and stared distastefully at the phone. It rang again.

"Alright, alright. Hold your horses," Kathy said aloud, put her feather duster down on the sofa, and walked to the telephone table.

She answered, "Hello?"

"Hello, Ma'am. May I speak with Mr. Ed Wood? It's very important." A male asked.

"I'm sorry. He's not in right now. But maybe I can help you. I'm his wife."

"Sure. Well, Mrs. Wood, you probably already know of the tardiness of your insurance fees. We've contacted your husband quite a few times about the matter, but we've received none of the payment. Unfortunately, there's a hefty sum to be paid for withholding payments for this long of a period, and I'm afraid it's come to the time where you're going to be charged. The fees are one hundred dollars. The late fees... two hundred."

Kathy listened to all this intently, feelings of embarrassment, anger, confusion, disappointment, and annoyance all fluttering through her at once. They were so strong, yet when she opened her mouth to reply, not even the slightest discomfort could be detected. "I see. Well... thank you Mr..."

"Laudy."

"... Mr. Laudy for calling. I'm going make sure you get that money no matter what."

"You're welcome. Goodbye."

They both hung up. For a few minutes all Kathy did was stand there, expressionless. But very slowly, her face began to fill with an angry disposition and she ran to the bookshelf. She grabbed a book and hurled it across the living room with a growl.

Her throw had held so much force that the book hit the wall on the other side of the room. On impact, it took on a crumpled look, fell to the floor in a heap, and lay sprawled in displacement. A small scuff mark was left on the wall above it.

Kathy looked at the book and gasped, realizing what she had done. She was not a violent woman in the least and had never been one. Ever.

Her knees began to feel weak and she managed to sit down on the couch before they gave out under her.