I first met Peggy when I walked into my bedroom and found her rummaging through my underwear drawer. I was considerably surprised to find a strange 70-year old woman going through my dresser and for a split second I was speechless. She looked up and we just stared at each other for a beat until I finally said, “May I help you?”
Peggy did not bat an eyelash. “I’m Peggy,” she said; she had an annoyingly shrill voice. “I’m here with your neighbor Rose,” she added and I nodded. My partner and I had invited some friends and neighbors over for drinks and Rose had asked me if she could bring her good friend Peggy with her. I folded my arms and still said nothing so Peggy, thinking fast, put her index finger in her mouth, and took it out again. “I was looking for a Band-Aid,” she said with dignity. “I cut my finger.” She held up the finger in question but I did not see any blood and she quickly put the finger back in her mouth as though trying to stop the bleeding.
“You’re not going to find a Band-Aid in my underwear drawer,” I said shortly. “Besides,” I pointed out, “you’re not bleeding,”
“It must have stopped,” said Peggy. I said nothing and took a good look at her: She had short, spiky hair, lots of jewelry and wore far too much makeup; I thought she looked like a Rottweiler in drag. Still silent, I stood back from the bedroom door and motioned her out of the room. She left reluctantly, moving slowly and stopping to pick up a picture from my dresser. “Great shot,” she said conversationally. “San Francisco?”
“Please leave,” I said shortly and as she did I closed the door firmly behind her.
When I went back to the patio to join the party my partner was curious. “Where were you?” he said. He was talking to our neighbors Mark and Carlos and I told them I found Peggy in my underwear drawer. “How did she fit in your underwear drawer?” said Mark, while my partner stared, wide-eyed.
Carlos was not surprised. “Peggy is a snoop,” he said. He mentioned that at his Christmas party he found Peggy going through his night stand, and that our neighbor Maureen once found Peggy going through her closet. Clearly there was a trend here and I was appalled.
“No one ever invites Rose to their house anymore,” said Carlos, “because she always brings Peggy.” Mark nodded. “Our neighbor, Terry, found Peggy in his medicine cabinet,” he said.
Just then another neighbor, Kate, came by “How did Peggy fit in Terry’s medicine chest?” she asked and we quickly filled her in on the details. Kate was incensed: “Is anything ever missing afterwards?” she asked.
“No,” said Carlos. “She’s nosy, not a thief. “ Kate did not say anything but her eyes narrowed dangerously.
Several weeks afterward Kate invited some friends and neighbors over for drinks and Rose was there, and of course she brought Peggy. This surprised me and I made a note to ask Kate about it when I could get her alone.
I never got the chance. My partner and I were chatting with Mark and Carlos in Kate’s living room when we heard a tremendous noise coming from the guest bathroom. Impossibly loud, it sounded like a cascade of small, hard objects were being dropped from a great height onto a hard tile floor where they bounced and ricocheted off the hard tile walls. The noise lasted a surprisingly long time and when it stopped the living room was dead silent. We heard a shrill, female voice in the bathroom. “Fuck!” said the voice. “Shit! Piss! Fuck!” I glanced over at Kate and noticed that she wore a hard, satisfied smile.
Then the e bathroom door opened and Peggy emerged, ashen. On the floor were hundreds, maybe thousands, of marbles of all sizes and colors. The door to the medicine chest was wide open and Peggy was busted.
Kate walked over. “I see you found my marble collection,” she said matter-of-factly. Peggy nodded.
“Please pick them up before you leave,” said Kate.