I carried Wilma to her bed and made sure she was tucked comfortably under the sheets. What a strange person. She was in such a fragile state and she seemed to live by herself. Making a split second decision, I locked her front door, plugged myself back into an outlet, and found a comfortable bit of floor to finish charging for the night. As long as I woke up early enough, I could sneak back into John's apartment without him ever knowing I left.
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At 8:10am, I was rudely awakened by an incessant pounding at the door. Over the loud thudding, John's voice could be heard.
"Wilma!" His voice was slightly muffled, yelling through the door. "Open the door! I know she is in there with you!"
Scrambling to my feet, I unplugged my battery which now was at 100 percent power. I tentatively peaked through the door's security peephole and saw John's livid expression leering at me. Mentally preparing for his lecture, I took a deep breath, and opened the door. When he saw me, a brief expression of relief flashed across his face. The expression was soon replaced with anger as he stepped in the apartment and closed the door behind himself. He turned to face me and grabbed my shoulders, squeezing them firmly.
"What did I say?" He growled, nostrils flaring. "Don't leave the apartment by yourself!"
Looking up at his imposing figure, I marveled at how tall he actually was. His usual calm demeanor and kind face had vanished to be replaced by snarling rage. I was unaware that the baby faced doctor was capable of such energy.
"Screw you!" I yelled, pushing him off me. "I never left the apartment complex, and I wasn't alone! The cat lady passed out before I could leave. I couldn't leave her here by herself with the door unlocked."
"And did you ever stop to think," he said with dangerous calm, "that meanwhile, you left my door unlocked?" His low voice rose. "Did you even consider that you could have locked yourself in here with a lunatic! You know, you're pretty stupid for a smart-"
"HEY," shouted a voice from the other side of the room. Wilma stood, leaning up against the doorway, clutching her head. "Does the word hangover mean anything to either of you! Oh, crap."
She swayed slightly, then disappeared from the doorway. Several retching noises were heard, followed by a string of curse words. She reappeared, still somehow looking pretty.
"This your new girlfriend, Johnny?" asked Wilma, groping around a dresser for her sunglasses. "You didn't strike me as the protective, jealous boyfriend type."
She clumsily put on her sunglasses and turned to address me.
"Get out while you still can sweetie. You are too good for this schmuck. He's had more women in his bed than Leonardo DiCaprio."
"That's funny," snapped John, "coming from the woman who names her cats after all her ex's.
"Get out of my apartment, you man bitch." Wilma gathered a black Maine Coon cat up in her arms and waved its little paw. "Little Johnny says goodbye."