A Pearl for Perla

He told me that the Anderson Cancer Center in Houston was on the cutting edge, but he doubted that they would do anything less invasive.

I said, "Let me think about it and get back to you. Who should I call with my decision?"

He answered, "You can call me. I can schedule everything for you. I want to make sure you understand me. The quicker you get this done, the better. If you take more than two weeks, call someone else. I don't take hopeless cases."

CH 08

I got back to work just before quitting time. I told my boss that I needed cancer surgery. It needed to be done before it spreads. I wanted a leave of absence for three weeks to a month. He asked if I would agree to make myself available by phone. I told him that I would agree to do so as much as possible. I didn't know how much that would be, however.

I drove home and spent the rest of the evening deciding what to do. My plan was interrupted when Perla called.

She was full of enthusiasm. First, she thanked me for getting her a first-class ticket. She had thought it was a waste of money, but it wasn't. It was the most exciting flight ever! Most of the seats were occupied by the members of our professional basketball team. Even the guy sitting next to her was on the team. People were constantly coming by to get his autograph. Several people even thought that she was his wife.

She got autographs from the whole group. Her seatmate even gave her his professional basketball card. It contained lots of details about him. It listed the schools he had attended and his statistics. It even gave his address and phone number. All in all, it turned out to be a flight to die for!

She continued to gush about the friends that she had run into at home. She mentioned some girls that she had forgotten about and how they spent time catching up. She mentioned some old boyfriends. They did some reminiscing about their dates. They recalled the places they went and what they did.

She mentioned the changes that had occurred in town after she left. There was a new school and several new restaurants. A new big-box store had opened too. She said, "It's funny how some things change and others stay the same. I went from asking if I ever lived here before to asking if ever left."

When she finally paused, she realized that I had been deadly quiet. She asked, "Randy, are you still there?"

I said, "I'm here, Perla.

She said, "Are you alright? Are you upset with me? Oh, shit. You're thinking that I'm having all this fun and you're in the same old rut. That's what you've been hearing! How insensitive I've been. I made it sound like I'm glad to be here. You're thinking that I'm not missing you at all. It's not that way. It's just not, honey. Please believe me. I'm here, but my heart is and always will be with you. How are you doing, honey?"

"My day's been sub-par. I've got problems to deal with. As usual, I just don't have enough time to deal with the new beer offering and everything else. On top of that, I miss my wife."

She said, "You don't sound very good. Are you feeling bad? Has something happened?" She had switched on a dime from bubbly to worried.

I said, "Well, I miss my wife terribly, but she's having fun so I'm happy that she's happy."

"You don't sound happy, honey. If I gave you the impression that I'm happier here than I would be if I were home with you, I didn't mean to. I'm enthused about seeing old friends, new buildings, and all of that but don't you think for one moment that I would rather be here than home with you. Compared to these people, places, and buildings; you win every time. Please forgive my stupidity, Randy."

I told her there was nothing to forgive and that I wanted her to enjoy her trip. I asked her about Ruby. She was much more subdued about her. She said that she couldn't tell me much right then, but she would later.

I said, "I'm guessing she can hear you. Fill me in when you can talk. The purpose for taking the trip was to see her and find out how she's doing."

She said, "I know that, honey. I'm doing that, even if it sounds like I'm just having fun. Please believe me, you are still the most important person in my life. All of those friends that I mentioned, especially my old boyfriends, are not even in the mix."

After our conversation ended, I redoubled my efforts to make a plan for the future. I knew that I dare not let that future include Perla.

CH 09

I finally had it figured out. First, I had to assume that I would face the worst-case scenario. There were several things to consider. First, I loved Perla more than anyone or anything else. How could I ensure her happiness going forward? I needed to start with what I knew for certain about her.

No matter how much I would like to put her love for me as my number one consideration, I couldn't do that because it wasn't.

The one thing that I knew about her from day one, was that her life revolved around sex. It was her motivating force. She wanted it unhurried and often. That had to be my number one consideration.

Next, for most of her life, she had been promiscuous. What I was seeing now was the exception, not the rule.

She loves me. I'm certain of that, but would her love be strong enough to endure a marriage with no sex? If she did decide to settle for that, would it be fair to make her do it?

My answer was plain. How could I take something from her that had always been her driving force? She was a sexy lady and she wanted it every day. Going from every day to never was a change I couldn't ask of her.

The solution was obvious, I have to give her up because I love her. I could live without sex. I wouldn't like it, but I could. If it was her having a problem like mine, I could endure because I love her much more than the sex.

I can't say the same for her. Knowing what sex means to her, I would be selfish in the extreme to expect her to give it up. I shouldn't do it. I couldn't do it. I won't do it. Because I love her, I have to let her go. More than that, I have to make her go.

I know what I need to do — what I have to do. Now I must formulate how to do it.

I have to be the one to take action. I must destroy her love for me. For her own good, I have to make her hate me. Doing so will be my last act of love for the woman that was, and always will be, the love of my life. I owed her nothing less. I must get the ball rolling soon, like tomorrow.

CH 10

I woke up tired. I might have slept for two hours. I had breakfast at Perkins before going to work. When I got to the lab, I called doctor Wheeler and gave him the go-ahead for my surgery.

I called my attorney, Tom Bell, and asked him to recommend a divorce specialist. He gave me the phone number of Rhonda Martin. He said she was the best. When I called, she had already been alerted by Tom. I have an appointment with her tomorrow.

I walked down to my bank during lunch and moved some money around. Nothing spectacular, just enough to meet my requirements. There's no way that I'm going to inflict financial rape on the woman that I love.

When I got back from lunch, I had a message from the doctor. My surgery was scheduled for Thursday. Afterward, I would spend two nights in the hospital and an additional week in a rehab facility.

I made reservations at a popular extended-stay facility starting the day I would be done with my rehab. I asked about storage for some of my personal stuff, no furniture, tomorrow. They said it was no problem.

I stopped at the AT&T store and purchased a new phone with a new number. I will be leaving my old phone on the kitchen table Thursday morning when I leave for my surgery. It will mark my last day in the house that I've shared with Perla for some very happy years. It will be her house now.

I've probably forgotten a million things, but who cares. I probably won't survive the surgery anyway. If I do, I can't even imagine life with Perla hating me, but I know that I have to be sure that she does. That will start with lawyer Martin.

When I was ushered into the law office, I was surprised by Rhonda's appearance. She was in casual attire. She was relaxed. She was welcoming. She was beautiful. I was amazed.

When I told her what I wanted in the divorce, she was amazed. She said, "I've never had a request to fake a PI report before. I understand what you want to do but I'll never understand why you want your opponent in this undertaking to hate you. Tell me again.

I said, "I'm doing what's best for her, but for it to work, she has to want the divorce. For her to want it, she has to fall out of love with me. For that to happen, I have to fill her mind with false information. It has to be believable enough to generate hate in her heart for me. If she hates me, she will do what's needed to assure her happiness.

Rhonda said that she couldn't be a party to such an endeavor. She said I would need to fake that information myself in a cover letter to accompany the divorce papers.

When we finished, the divorce papers gave Perla the house free and clear. Also, all of the furniture and appliances and her paid-off car. All of the money in our joint account would be hers. All I kept was my IRA.

Rhonda agreed to have the papers ready Wednesday afternoon. She said, "I don't know why you needed me when all you want to do is give everything to your wife and take all of the blame!" I just grinned.

The cover letter said:

Perla, I suspected that you would be cheating on me when you left for your hometown. I suspected that seeing Ruby was just a cover tactic. Knowing that, I hired a PI to watch you. He was worth every cent.

I have pictures of you with three former boyfriends and two basketball pros. In addition, I have a damning video. I should have known that you would revert to your former ways eventually. The trip to your hometown did it.

As for me, I have renewed my relationship with Emily. You remember that she's the one that I took to senior prom. I told you about her. She's not as good in bed as you are, but at least she's not a slut. I can't take any more of your slutty ways. If you had as many pricks sticking out of you as you've had sticking into you, you'd look like a porcupine. Good riddance.

Please sign the divorce papers and return them to my attorney ASAP.

With no love at all,

Your X,

Randy Evans

For the record, Rhonda hated my cover letter. I wanted her to swear herself to silence. She said there was no need for that. It was covered by attorney-client privilege.

CH 11

When Perla called on Tuesday evening, I had very little to say. I was distant, to say the least. She was upset with me. She even got somewhat short with me. When we hung up, she was mad. MY PLAN WAS WORKING!

The call on Wednesday was very different. Perla was on the verge of tears. It tore me up, but I continued to treat her with indifference. When I indicated that I wanted to go to bed early, she cried openly. "What have I done, Randy? What's happened to us? I would have never left had I known it would upset you this much. I've never seen you like this. I'm going to see if I can exchange my ticket and come home early."

I said, "Hell yes. Why not see if you can spend some more money by paying the penalty for changing your ticket. That is sure to make things better between us!" With that, I hung up on her.

My plan was working, but that didn't help me sleep. At 5 am on Thursday, I placed my phone on top of the envelope containing the divorce papers and my cover letter. Of course, there would be no answer for any subsequent phone calls from Perla. It was over. Part of me hoped that I would die during my operation.

I don't remember much about my surgery, but I do remember there was quite a bit of preparation involved. I had to shower using a special soap called CHG. It seemed like at least a half dozen women assisted me and all of them handled my penis. There was just no way to even begin to protect my dignity.

I remember the anesthesiologist asking me to count backward from one hundred. I don't think I got very far. The last thing I remember is him telling me to have a good trip, just before everything went dark.

My next memory was a nurse saying, "Mark the time. He's waking up."

Doctor Able came in a few hours after I woke up. He was smiling as he said, "We did good, son. The lymph nodes were clean which means that the cancer hasn't spread. We gave you a chemical erection to facilitate the surgery. Before we operated you measured five and a half inches. Afterward, you were two inches shorter.

"I checked with your insurance company and found out that you have a Cadillac policy. I hadn't mentioned reconstructive surgery since most insurance doesn't cover it, but yours does. Knowing that, when I finished, I turned you over to doctor Vargas and she performed a complete reconstruction. She was able to add an inch while restoring your glans. Your penis now has a nice rounded head and you'll be able to urinate normally. I have every reason to believe that the same will be true with your semen. When the healing is complete, your penis should look and function very much like before. There is still no absolute certainty, but that's what the current evidence leads me to believe.

On Saturday morning, I was able to urinate normally. That afternoon I was transferred to the rehab facility. Once again, I was in the hands of a herd of women! By now, I was used to it. What can I say? They were all smart and talented gals. They were able to do their job without embarrassing or hurting me. I thank God for each and every one of them.

My week at rehab flew by. Every day was a celebration as I edged ever closer to looking and feeling normal. I was both happy and sad as I left for my new digs at the extended-stay hotel.

It was when I found myself with no medical staff to care for me and no human being to talk to that I began to regret what I'd done to Perla. It hadn't gone as badly as I expected. There was every reason to believe that I might return to normal in every way except for a lost inch. I wanted to be happy about that, but I found myself missing Perla more than I could ever have imagined. Why was I so mean to her? What I was saving her from had not materialized.

I found myself regretting my actions. I had driven her away. I would probably never see her again. Why would she ever deign to even speak to me after what I put her through? My God, what did I do?

I had been there a week and the only humans I had talked to were the housekeeping and restaurant employees. Every weekday at about two in the afternoon the housekeeping gal knocked at my door. You'll never know how good it was to converse with another human being.

It was my second Tuesday in my lonely room when the knock came an hour early. I wondered about that but I walked to the door and swung it open with my usual "Howdy Ma'am." I stopped mid-sentence. It wasn't the cleaning lady. It wasn't an employee of the hotel. It wasn't even a Jehovah's Witnesses!

No, no! It was a tousled lady. It was a despondent woman. She was a sorrowful sight. She was a heartbroken vagrant. She was an apparition. She was an angel. She was a site for sore eyes. She was the answer to my prayers. She was Pear Evans, the light of my life.

Tears poured down her face as she cried out, "Randy! Honey! It's really you! I've looked everywhere. I've followed every lead. It's actually you this time! I was about to give up. She trembled and began sinking to the floor. I swept her into my arms and held her head with mine. We stood head-to-head for what seemed like hours, but it was probably just a moment or two.

I eased her across the shabby room and onto the ragged couch. She was hugging me like a baby clinging to its mother. She looked into my eyes and sobbed, "Those words in your letter almost killed me. I thought you hated me. I nearly went nuts. But after spending several hours crying, all of a sudden I realized something. Either you had hired the worst PI ever invented or it was all a farce.

"I read it all again. No PI worth his salt would make so many mistakes. I hadn't done any of those things. There was no evidence either. Pictures, videos, and audios were mentioned, but where were they? With a good or even a mediocre PI, they would be there. It was a farce! IT WAS A FARCE!

"I knew you so well. I realized what was going on. You knew that you might end up being impotent, so you had to drive me away. It was all a farce to save me from a sexless marriage. What a wonderful, farcical, man. I got up from the couch and started my campaign to find you.

I called our GP and found out about his referral to doctor Holloway.

"I went to doctor Holloway's office. Since you hadn't designated anyone to share your medical records, they wouldn't give me the time of day.

"After calling office after office of urologists and surgeons that wouldn't even talk to me, I ended up making an appointment with our GP. I wanted to talk to him in person. That's where I lucked out. All of the specialists had given reports to him. It was the standard practice.

"Since our GP had our permission to share our records with our spouses, I got to see reports from doctors Holloway, Wheeler, and Able. Those reports led me to the hospital and the rehab center. Someone in the rehab facility remembered that you were heading to an extended-stay hotel.

"Who knew there were so many of them? They all sought to preserve the privacy of their residents. I ended up visiting the hotels in person and talking to the employees that checked people in, cleaned the rooms, or maintained the equipment. At least they would talk to me and answer my questions.

"With each failure, my spirits fell. I was about to give up when something drew me to this place. It was way down my list, but I decided to try here before giving up. And here you are!!!

She wanted to confirm that she was right about my letter being a farce designed to save her from a sexless marriage. She wanted me to repudiate my words. She wanted me to say that I didn't hate her.

I said, "No, I don't hate you. I love you. My words in that letter were designed to make you hate me so you would avoid a sexless marriage, just as you surmised. I know how much sex has always meant to you. Since there is still a chance that I will not be able to perform anymore, I have to let you go. With the love you have for me, you might not leave me. You might stay and lead a miserable life. Even worse, you might stay and get sex from someone else. I don't want to be the man that drives you into adultery."

There were tears in her eyes as she said, "There's something that you need to know. There's a story that you need to hear."

CH 12

It was just a fluke that I was the first one downstairs that day. Ruby and my mom were sleeping- in and my dad had left last night. I heard his truck driving away. I was pouring myself some orange juice when I saw what appeared to be a letter on the table. It was my dad's handwriting and it was addressed to my mom.

I yelled for my mom but she didn't answer. Being a curious kid, I read the letter. It was a letter of goodbye. He reminded her of how often they had sex when they were newlyweds. He said that it stayed that way for years. He said that she became much less receptive after Ruby was born. She submitted just enough to preserve their marriage and to make another baby.

He went on to say that after I came along four years later, she turned the sex off even more. He pointed out that he had endured her reluctant submissions until I was old enough to help her and Ruby maintain the family. He still loved her and he loved his children, but he couldn't endure the lack of sex any longer.

He had met another woman who gave him fantastic sex. She was up for it day or night. There were no limitations to her sexual ardor. He ended the letter by restating that he was leaving not because he didn't love her, but because she no longer enjoyed or even allowed sexual intercourse with him.