Crazy Wife: Five more minutes 'til he comes home. (Pacing) I still haven’t figured out what I’ll do yet. He’s guna be so devastated, and angry when I tell him, though. He’ll probably kick me out and tell me never to come back. (Sadly) Then he’ll go to our bedroom, empty out our drawers, and tear out my clothes from the closet. And throw 'em out the window down at me. He won’t even bother putting ‘em in a bag. Then I’ll be out here, in the cold snow, wearing only my pajamas, pickin' up my items of clothing and layering them over me so I can be warm for the long winter night. (Shudders) I’ll be there sitting on the sidewalk thinking of where I can go. If I did that, though, I would be sitting there for days because I don’t know nobody here. Everyone I do know is back in the islands. I’ve been gone for so long, they probably won't even recognize my own voice if I called them. Not that I could. I wouldn’t have any money with me. He would strategically forget to throw my money down with the clothes.
But I’ll begin my trek to the library anyways. It’s one of the few places I actually know how to get to. I go to the library from the apartment every day, 6 days a week, and I'm there from 8 in the morning to 8 at night. When I get home from work, I begin my 2nd job as ‘dutiful maid’ also known as a wife. (Scoffs) I clean the apartment, or I clean what I can. The grime on the walls were there long before we moved in, and they’ll remain long after we leave. I cook, well, I order Chinese takeout for dinner. He doesn’t like my cooking, but I don’t blame him. I don’t like it that much either. But maybe he won’t do that. Maybe he will laugh about it and hug me and tell me it's okay. I should tell the truth. The truth will set you free, right? I think that’s the saying. (Nods her head, and then begins to shake her head after a second) Hmm, no, I forgot the last part. The truth will set you free, but first it will make you miserable! I would rather not be miserable. I mean, telling the truth is good and everything. But the misery that would come with it is unbearable. So if I don’t tell the truth, then I won’t be miserable.
But then what should I tell him? It has to be something realistic. It has to be something that could happen and proven wrong. I could tell him we got raided by the FBI, that they had been watching us for the last few years. I could say it's cause he’s been downloading too music illegally. I swear, almost everyday after he comes home from work, he walks straight past me and goes on the internet listing to music and downloading movies. He spends half his time on that computer. But I would have to trash the apartment for that to be true, (pause) and trash the computer too. (Smiling evilly) The FBI wouldn’t have come in here and left the place looking how it does now. That shouldn’t be hard though. I can easily throw down the television, knock over some couches, and smash the windows. (Starts to frown) But if the FBI were really here, wouldn’t they have taken me? And if they were watching us, wouldn’t they have raided when they knew we were both guna be home? I don’t think that would work out. That story would be like Swiss cheese. There are too many holes that can’t be filled up.
Maybe I could tell him we got robbed. But I would have to throw out some stuff to make it seem like they took things. And I would have to hide some things, too. That would take awhile to do, and he’s guna be home in, (checks clock) oh no, 3 minutes! This isn’t going to work. (Pacing) What else would happen if I told him the truth, though? He could beat me up and call me a golddigger and fake and liar. He could not let me have anything and lock me in the room and not let me eat. He could take me to the woods and shoot me, right through my heart; he’ll say it's cause I don’t already got one. I can’t let that happen to me. I’ve got to think of a good story to tell him. Maybe I could say I loaned them to my friend. But I need friends for that. I don’t know anybody up here. All my friends are back home. I could say I loaned them to my boss, Lorna, but no, it has to be a guy. I can make up some guy's name. But then he’ll ask why I never mentioned him before, and then he’ll think I’ve been having an affair. And then he’ll be really mad.
So, what do I do? What do I do? (Pause for 5 seconds) You know what; I'm going with the robber story. Let me get my bat. (Gets bat) All I gotta do is quickly smash those windows and known over the bookshelf and mess up the place a bit. (Smashes windows and wreck apartment) There, that’s perfect. All messed. Let me get some warm clothes on just in case he kicks me out. Let me also get my money just in case. (Gets clothes and money from bedroom) Oh no, he’s here, he’s at the door. Okay, you can do this, you can lie to him, and everything’s set up. The room's a mess, and if he comes after you, you can easily run outta here. You got on your warm clothes, and you got your money. You’ll be safe. Take three deep breathe. (Confidently)Let’s go. He’s opening the door. The doors' opened. He’s walking in. And, action! (Ashamedly) Oh honey, I’m sorry. I took your watch and pawned it, please please please forgive me. I’ll do anything. I’ll give you a massage; I’ll order your favorite food all the time. You know what, don’t say anything at all. I got my money and I’m guna go and buy you a brand new one right this second. One that’s three times better than your old one. I’m coming back home in an hour, sweetie! Bye! (Walks outside and smiles to herself) Phew. I’m glad that went well.”