Serenading Stanley Read Online Free PDF Page B

new curtains barely stirred—that’s how weak the breeze was—but Stanley figured it wouldn’t always be like that. The weather would cool off sooner or later. Plus, when he was buying a shower curtain, he would also pick up an electric fan. That would help. And towels. He needed towels. And soap. And sheets and a pillow. And maybe a small microwave oven. Jesus, he needed a lot.
    Digging through the empty cupboards in the kitchen, he realized he would need several other things besides groceries for his culinary adventures. First off, paper plates, plastic silverware, paper cups, and paper napkins. No point spending the rest of his life washing dishes. Oh, and maybe a skillet. He supposed he could glom the skillet off his mother, but he thought it best to stay away from her for a while. The woman could be maniacal when she was on a tear. The name of vengeance was not woman, as some writer once said. The name of vengeance was Lola Francesca Sternbaum. And Stanley had spent his whole life trying to stay out of her line of fire.
    With all his belongings in place, Stanley decided to shower and cool off. He didn’t have any soap, but there was an old bottle of Ivory Liquid sitting on the kitchen sink. He’d use that. And he didn’t have a towel, but an old T-shirt would work just as well.
    Later, when he was all cleaned up, he would walk over to the university and see if they had posted the class schedules yet. The semester was starting in a couple of weeks, and Stanley was eager to get underway. After he checked out the school, he’d go shopping.
    Funny. Stanley had the strangest sensation his life was just beginning.
    With a smile on his face at the prospect, he stripped off his clothes and climbed into his very own shower for the very first time.
     
     
    F EELING newly invigorated and ready for anything, Stanley stepped out of his very own shower for the very first time. Since he didn’t have a shower curtain, he had actually sat in the tub and taken a regular bath, but that was beside the point. Dripping wet, he grabbed up the Britney Spears T-shirt he had elected to serve as a towel, since it was still new enough to have some absorbency left. Rubbing his hair dry with Britney’s face, he was about to commence humming from sheer youthful exuberance when a sound in the apartment made him freeze. It was a clicking sound.
    Click. Then a bunch more. Click click click click click .
    Startled, Stanley tilted his head to the side and listened harder. Over the thumping of his suddenly galloping heart, he now heard the sound of heavy breathing. That startled him even more than the clicking. Every horror movie he’d ever seen passed before his eyes.
    And dammit, here his life was just beginning too!
    Furious and terrified all at the same time, Stanley threw himself naked through the bathroom door with the only weapon he could find on the spur of the moment held high above his head—the bottle of Ivory Liquid. And it was half-empty.
    Woefully unarmed and knowing it, he was almost relieved to come face to face with—nothing! The living room was empty. Then he heard the heavy breathing coming from the kitchen. And smoke. He smelled smoke. My God, the apartment was on fire!
    Still naked and still dripping wet and still holding a bottle of Ivory Liquid over his head like a club, he tore into the kitchen only to find—his mother! She was standing by the kitchen sink, all doubled over, gasping for air. She had a lit cigarette dangling from her lips. Smoke enveloped her head like a cloud hovering over the tip of Mount Fuji. The clicking sound he had heard was the sound of her cigarette lighter, he now realized. He should have known. He’d been listening to that damn clicking sound his entire life. In fact, she was still holding the lighter in her trembling fingers. Obviously those six flights of stairs had taken their toll on her.
    “Holy Mother of God!” she gasped, spotting Stanley in the doorway. “Maybe I should switch to