Pauly as Satan’s child? January 26, 1985
Dear Suzanne
Something strange has happened with Pauly over the last few
weeks.
Actually, looking back, it may be more typical than unusual.
Since I know you have feelings for him, I thought you should know.
Please understand that anything I say here is strictly
between you and me. Pauly find out I told you or anyone about this, he would
burn my apartment down with me in it.
About two weeks ago, Pauly called me, waking me about two
hours before I normally get up. He apparently was working a double shift at the
Fotomat and had been there all morning.
His voice sounded queer, not at all like Pauly. He told me
something funny had happened. He meant funny as in humorous, though he didn’t
sound like he does when he is telling a joke – even his nasty kind.
He didn’t go into details, which is something that annoys me
about him. This lack of information wouldn’t let me get back to sleep.
Two days prior to that Pauly had been conducting covert
activities over the telephone, romantic activities apparently. His fur was up.
He acted jittery and chaotic. He waited up at the end of the driveway for the
mailman, claiming he expected to get one of his “special letters,” suggesting
in his tone when I asked him about it that I might have them.
Also prior to this rude awakening, I tried to reach Pauly by
telephone at the booth, but got a busy signal for so long, I gave up. I assumed
it must be his boss, Bob, using the phone, so took a ride over to the booth
where I found Pauly on the phone, who when he saw me, hung up quickly, and gave
me a stupid grin like a young kid in love.
I found out later, he had been talking to the same woman he
had spent much of New Year’s Eve speaking with. He told me she had a few kids,
but most of them were away, and her youngest would soon be leaving for college.
He told me this as if he was telling me a secret and seemed to take great
pleasure in the covert way he did.
I had a bad feeling about the woman, partly because she had
brushed him the day before, when her son answered his call to her, telling Pauly
she had a headache. From the way Pauly conveyed this to me suggested he didn’t
believe it.
As I lay awake after his rather puzzling call, I didn’t yet put together this “puppy
love” with Pauly’s “Funny thing.”
I walked my dog over to the booth, figuring to do something
productive since I could not sleep anyway.
I found Paul inside the booth, pale and fumbling with the
lock trying to get out. His hands shook.
“I need a break,” he said.
He meant more than just from work. Apparently, the woman in
question had called Paul’s brother, accusing Pauly of being in league with the
devil, passing manipulative messages to her and her son.
Not all of this was clear to me, but the woman apparently
was spreading the tale far and wide and this terrified Pauly.
“I thought this was funny at first,” Pauly said. “Then she
started calling me at the booth, telling me that I had used her, that I had
played with her mind.”
Only then did I learn that there have been others just like
her over the summer.
“Is it the booth or me that makes them come?” he asked me.
I was still too tired to make sense of it. But apparently,
Jimmy’s brother and her son were supposed to work it all out in some letter
between them I never saw nor learned the details of. But Pauly apparently didn’t
like what the letter said, and still looked scared when I asked about it.
Similar accusations have been made against Pauly before,
back in the old days in Little Falls, when some parents saw him as a devil
influencing their kids, made worse when he, Charlie, Rob and others got busted for
pot in Montclair. One family moved out of state to get their daughter away from
Pauly.
Some of the local cops actually thought Paul was a cult
leader and we were his cult.
Early on, before I actually met Pauly, I thought so, too, at
least from how obsessed Hank was about Pauly, and later how Hank imitated everything
Pauly did, even to the point of claiming they must have been brothers in
another life.
Alf imitated Pauly’s arrogance, especially when it came to
women. Since many women think he and I look alike, I got more than a few slaps
from women who mistook me for him, and his enduring wrath for daring to date
one of the women he had his eye set on.
Fortunately, I never had the ache to be Pauly the way many
of his other male friends. But women I’ve dated – such as yourself – found him
irresistible.
I never believed him to be the son of Satan. So, the
revelations of the last few days shock me. The fact that this woman and others
over the summer are accusing him of secretly manipulating them, mind control
and other such stuff shocks me.
I do not think he is Charlie Manson or capable of casting
spells on people.
Fran, blinded over anger and jealous over our friendship, sees
him as calculating and cruel – which he can be at times.
I suspect Pauly is more vulnerable than any of us give him
credit for, hiding behind the stern posterior to keep from getting hurt.
Those who come to him are drawn to him by some inner beauty most
people can’t or won’t see, not because of secret messages he might be sending
to us in our sleep – unless, of course, he wakes us up with some odd phone call
when all we want to do is stay asleep.
I don’t know why I’m saying all this to you except that I
suspect you feel about Pauly the way the rest of his close friends do.
Sincerely yours,
Al
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