She landed like a fly She left like a fly The apartment across the hall had been vacant for six Months Then suddenly without warning became occupied She was from the east of canada Absolutely beautiful, brains too And I told myself at first sight, she's trouble And she was More than I could possibly imagine A real fireball-motormouth type But I really liked that at first (I like talkative people) The third night she was there We walked down to the new Beverly cinema (Which was actually an old revival house) For a showing of street car named desire And from then on we began calling each other Stella and Stanley Whenever I'd come back from a job or something I'd yell up to her window Stella But more frequently than not It'd be her that was coming home from job and yelling Stanley She was working her little round ass off Making about ten grand a week As a human prop for fashion catalougues Didn't even have a bank account When she first moved In What do you do with the money?, I asked her Well I bought some CDs yesterday And I got some clothes and I got this bag The girl spent money like an Arab And even with her income Was always borrowing from me for food and rent One of her biggest expenses was taxi fares She didn't own a car Refused to take the bus And back in those days la didn't have a subway Up to five-hundred dollars a day for taxis To and from jobs To and from stores To and from the movies To and from the beach The beach?! Who the fuck takes a cab from Hollywood to the beach? Rent a car! I told her But she didn't have a license She eventually took all of my advice Opened a bank account Stopped buying so many CDs Started buying used clothes And bought two cars (Still didn't have a license) A big Ford Bronco which she almost never drove And an old convertible mustang Stanley She'd yell as she drove down the alley Stanley She'd yell as she pulled into the driveway Then we'd make healthy, disgusting-tasting things to Eat Drink cheap wine and talk almost all night On my big blue bed But always in the middle of some deep conversation She spring to her feet and say sisterly Goodnight Stan Goodnight Stella, I'd say Out my door she went And into her own across the hall Where she would start making phone calls Sometimes I'd hear her talk on the phone For two or three hours back home to Canada To her gingerbread family To her old friends and to her old boyfriend You see, I was her only friend in la And the phone was one form of communication She could not live without out (Her phone bill was easily four times more than her Rent) But I loved this little girl Miss-nineteen-year-old-motor-mouth-know-it-all She loved me too But was afraid to admit it For the simple reason I didn't look good on paper No regular job Skin too dark Used too many fuck-words Unsuccessful as a photographer Unsuccessful as an artist Whatever would her gingerbread family back home think? And her friends? And her old boyfriend? Afterall, this whole charade of a life she lived Was strictly for them, just for effect Many weeks in advance, we'd planned to go skydiving Together But on the day we had reserved at the skydiving school We got up at four-thirty AM And drove all the way out to Paris, California Just to discover the wind was too strong For any planes to go up She was absolutely heartbroken Didn't say a word the whole drive back What's wrong, Stella? I dunno The problem wasn't That her her long anticipated first jump Had been postponed It was that she'd already told everyone in Toronto That she'd be jumping today And no doubt they'd be calling that night for a Documentary What'll I tell them? She said That you're dead, I said That's not funny Stan!! One night not long after We'd gone to a big Hollywood Christmas party And gotten completely wasted on mixed tropical drinks We took a cab home Then talked for a while on my bed She put her arms around me Stabbed her tongue into my mouth And climbed up on top of me She pulled out my dick through the zipper Slipped it under her mini-skirt Around her panties Into her unbelievably hot and tight wetness She rode it Once up Once down The must have remembered her loving family Friends and old boyfriend back home in Toronto I can't do this She said rolling off of me Standing up and pulling down her skirt simultaneously I can't do this!!! She stormed out of my door and into her own She called somebody in Canada And began telling them how exciting the party had been Eddie murphy was there, I overheard her say He wasn't, but there was a black guy tending bar (Maybe they all looked the same to her) The best and worst fuck of my life The best Because I loved that little bitch and had waited Five months for the dip The worst Because of its four-second duration And transformation Of a girl who talked, laughed and ate with me And cared about me Into one who only said Hi Stan Bye Stan The next weekend I went up to Ventura County When I got home Sunday night she was gone No note. Nothing Her apartment was unlocked Vacant. No furniture. Nothing Everything was gone except for the cars Which she'd left across the street In the post office parking lot The bronco was stolen the third night The mustang was towed by the city About a week after that In like a fly Out like a fly She'd mixed up my head She'd driven a fork right through my fucking heart She'd nibbled and chewed All of the self-confidence from my bones And still... Still had the nerve to call Four months later from Paris, France It's spring here, she said on my answering machine The Sun is shining The flowers have blossomed I miss you Stan