Stranger Than Friction
Look at them. Steve thought to himself. He was watching Millie and Brooklyn where they sat down on the beach. Brook looked more and more like Millie with each day that passed. Her hair was near the same color and she has striking blue eyes illuminated by a fire that only her maker could explain. Steve was mesmerized. He wondered if a girl like Mil would give him the time of day anyplace else. What if he wasn't the last man on earth and she wasn't stuck here on this deserted island? Would they even know each other?
"The answer to your question is yes."
Steve turned quickly toward the sound of the strange voice behind him. "Who the hell are you and how did you know what I was thinking?"
"I'm Bridgid. I'm your writer."
"My what? You mean you're the one who created me?"
The woman shook her head. "No, I can't take credit for that but I did resurrect you from where your creator left off, with a bit of influence from some other sources of course."
Steve stood up and brushed the sand from his hands. Now that he could get a better look at this intruder, his jaw dropped. She bore an uncanny resemblance to the other woman on the island.
"If you're my writer then how am I talking to you?"
Bridgid shrugged a shoulder and grinned. "I willed it so. I can do anything I likeÖ That's the beauty of having a vivid imagination and a computer. I can go anywhere, be anything, created anyone, you name it."
"What does that make you, some kind of god?"
"Hell no, Steve. It makes me some kind of nutter. Most people don't express themselves. They don't have time to compose stories or they don't have a creative mind. I may have been slighted in my ability to do mechanical stuff but I have a lot of stories to share."
"You don't look like a writer."
"What do I look like to you?"
Steve walked toward her, giving her a wide berth he circled her. "You look like the type of woman who'd be a lawyer or maybe a business owner of some sort. Maybe if you were dressed differently I'd see a nurse or a paramedic."
"You're not too far off. I've done a lot of things in my life so far, It seems that writing is something Ihave to do no matter what else I'm involved in. Its like an addiction."
He studied her, watched her watch him. "Why did you choose me as a subject? Why did you put me here. Why do you torture me so much?"
"One question at a time, Steve." She chuckled. "I chose you because I felt you had an unfinished life. Your film left me with a lot of questions about who you were, how things turned out for you. I'll admit this, it also left me with a bit of a crush on you too."
"Aw you think I'm good looking, huh? Well I understand that. Iam rather fine looking."
"Be careful, Steve. If your head gets too big I could do something to change it. I could give you zits or turn you into a one legged man and enter you in an ass kicking contest."
...His name was Steve Moran. He lost his leg in a combine accident in Kansas one fateful day but it didn't stop him from entering the first annual Podunk ass kicking contest...
Bridgid laughed so hard, tears ran down her cheeks.
"You really enjoy torturing me don't you?"
"Not really. I enjoy giving you a story to exist in. Without friction there'd be no story so I have to create some for you. Just look at it this way. If I didn't make you interesting then there would be no need for your existence."
"Bring it on Bridgid."
...He was the first American to have ever entered the ring at Las Arenas de Barcelona. Today he'd battle a bull by the name of Herbert. One who'd survived his last time out. El Toro 1, Bullfighters 0. Steve stepped out wearing his finest gold lamae matador togs. Woman swooned and men wanted to be him as he shed his cape and danced a flamenco to taunt El Toro Herbert. The bull pawed the ground and snorted. He lowered his head as steam built up inside of him. Would Steve meet the same fate as the last matador who tangled with the mighty Herbert or would the bull end up the main ingredient in a chili con carne?
"Bridgid! Get me the fuck out of here now."
"Okeedokee." she chuckled. "Does that answer the question as to why I put you here? It's relatively safe. Don't you think?"
"Relatively. I'm not too sure about the berries we've been eating for dessert though."
"Would you like me to create a cupcake bush?"
Steve rolled his eyes. "Did you spend a lot of time in the chem lab when you were in college?"
She shook her head, no. "Don't be silly. I did nothing illegal in college."
"What about the time you shoplifted a standing rib roast from the Winn Dixie?"
"How did you know that, Steve?"
"I just figured out how to get into your head. Actually, I live in your head don't I? I guess that makes me party to a lot of stuff. Would you like me to go on about the football team?"
"No, you can stop there. I'm not really proud of that but it was kind of fun."
Crossing his arms, Steve leaned against one of the support posts. "It seems that I've leveled the playing field a bit. Yes you can manipulate me but I can embarrass you. I can spout off about all kinds of things from your past. Let's see....."
...Did Steve know how much danger he was in? He raised his head from the foxhole just in time to hear a bullet whiz by his ear but he was a brave man who refused to duck and cover. As the sound of Bo Donaldson and the Heywoods singing their one hit wonder Billy, Don't be a Hero played in the background, Steve jumped from the fox hole to face a battalion of soldiers and a regiment of Panzer tanks all by himself. My hero!
"I get your point! Knock it off!, Bridgid. I'll keep your secrets secret. I won't tell about the time you put the flaming bag of pooh on Mrs. Nicholson's porch." he was checking himself for holes and a dry bottom as he spoke.
"You just did, Steve-o."
"Hey, Millie calls me that."
"Guess what. I'm Millie. Millie is me."
"Does that mean I'm porking both of you?'
"Very nice way to put it, Steve." she huffed sarcastically. "I figure the phrasemaking love to sounds better than porking."
"Shit, you write my dialog. Give yourself a slap on the wrist."
"Yeah, okay. Letís get to the point. I came here for a reason. You see, you were not my first choice as a subject, Steve. There were several influences involved that brought me around to choosing you. First off, I have a friend named Marie who has taken you and turned you into a playmate for me. Well, for herself too but I get to have a lot of fun with...you. You're kind of a reflection of the Steve that Marie writes. I love that guy so much that I figured I'd invent one of my own. So here you are. I took the essence of Marie's Steve and did and Emeril Lagasse on him.BAM, added my own version of spice. I love the way you turned out by the way."
"Thank you. Thank you very much. Can I meet this other Steve?"
"I don't think so. He lives in another mind and place."
"Can I meet Marie?"
"That could be arranged. Let me tell you about the other influence. Her name is Riley."
"I can't wait to hear this ..."
...Steve didn't like the feeling of being upside down in the seat but he knew things would be righted as soon as the rocket left the earthís atmosphere. The launch pad was cleared and the countdown began..ten ...nine ...eight ...seven ...Ground control to Major Steve ...
"Damn it, Bridgid! Stop doing that to me. You had me shit scared there."
"Then shut up and listen!" she scolded. "Riley came up to me one day and challenged me to write this series. My first thought was to say hell no. I don't want to kill Steve, you, off but then I gave it more thought. If I got through that nasty part, I could put you in any story that I wanted to. The odds tipped in your favor. So, I brought you back to life and not wanting to share you with some other woman, I'm greedy you see, I created Millie who is really me with a different name. You love her doncha?"
"If you say so, Iím a little gun-shy at the moment. If I give you the wrong answer you're going to write me in to Deliverance or something like that."
"Ha, squeal like a pig, Steve-o."
"Oink!" he replied and clapped his hand over his mouth. "That's just mean, B. Oink! Stop it please. Oink oink oink...damn you, B. Baaaaaaaaa." Both hands were both firmly clamped over his mouth now.
"Okay. I'll behave. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I wasn't going to torture you for a little while. You and Millie can go ahead, get married, live in bliss for a while. I promise I won't send King Kong to this island but I can't promise you that my sense of humor wonít guide what happens to you."
"Can you let me find a bottle on the beach with a beautiful genie in it? She'll look like Barbara Eden and grant me three wishes."
Bridgid sighed again. "What would you wish for?"
He didn't have to give it much thought. Steve smiled at her and with an appreciative smile; he answered "I'd wish for a beautiful blonde woman to love me just as I am. I'd wish for us to have a child, a little girl with her mommyís eyes and last but not least, I'd wish for you to help us make people laugh. If people would laugh more it would be a better world don't you think?"
"Yeah, I think you're right. So what do you say we get to it and think of a lot of ways to make people happy? Go to Millie and Brook, Steve. Marry the girl you love and make her happy too. I think itís inevitable that you will.
"As long as you're with me, itís inevitable. Just ease up on the friction a little, will ya?"
"Okay, Steve-o, for a little while. Who loves you, baby?"
"You do, B and now everyone knows."
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