Tess and All Kinds

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by Elaine L. Orr




  Tess and All Kinds

  a short story

  by Elaine Orr

  Tess and All Kinds

  Copyright 2011 by Elaine L. Orr

  This ebook edition is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be sold or given to other people. If you would like to share this book with others, please purchase an additional copy for each person. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  Biding Time (young adult)

  Secrets of the Gap (mystery with a touch of romance)

  Searching for Secrets (mystery with a touch of romance)

  Appraisal for Murder (first of the Jolie Gentil cozy mystery series)

  Rekindling Motives (continuing the Jolie Gentil series

  www.elaineorr.com

  Tess first came to live with Grandma Wilma just after school started almost a year ago. She liked Grandma, but she was mad. Tess hadn't wanted to change schools. Her first-grade teacher at the old school was always good to Tess; she even got her some boots when it was cold and Tess was still wearing summer sneakers. Grandma said not to be mad at her. Wasn't her fault Tess had to come live with her. Not that she minded, she always said.

  Tess peered out of her favorite hiding place, the space between the wall and the filing cabinet in Grandma's office. Grandma was using her adding machine. Click, click, whoosh. Click, click, whoosh. She was tallying the rent money that had come in that month and paying her bills. If she had $22 extra, she would buy Tess the small desk in the window at the Salvation Army store. Tess studied Grandma's face as she worked. She wasn't frowning. There was a chance.

  The bell above the door jingled. Tess squeezed further into her hiding place. Grandma knew she was there, but Tess didn't want just anyone to see her. She inched forward to listen. The man, stooped with age but still very tall, leaned on the counter.

  "Wonder if you have any openings, ma'am," he said.

  Grandma looked hard at the man. She had her ways of figuring out if someone would pay their storage locker rent. Grandma said some storage space managers tried to rent to people who couldn't pay, so that when they didn't, the manager would have everything in the locker. Grandma didn't do that. She said she felt as if she was stealing a person's history when she had to sell off their things. Plus, she almost never came out ahead. "Depends on the size," Grandma said.

  "Don't need too big, maybe eight by ten feet, if you got it."

  "I need the rent money up front every month. I can't give anyone credit. Else I have to give everyone credit."

  Tess smiled to herself. Grandma always said it the same way. She emphasized the word "everyone," as if she was in charge of storage lockers for the whole world.

  "Social Security check gets to the bank on the third of every month. Is that good enough for you?" The man, hands at his side, clenched and unclenched his fist as he spoke. Funny, Tess thought. He didn't look mad.

  Grandma nodded. People on Social Security paid pretty regular. Even Tess knew that by now. "I have a nine by twelve. Little bigger, but only $10 more a month. And the last people who had it, they put some shelves up in the back. You want them, you can use them. You don't, I'll take them out."

  "It would be nice to have some shelves." He stopped clenching and unclenching his fists.

  "I always say shelves are the best way to get organized." Grandma took her master keys off their perch behind her desk and walked through the swinging half-door that let her move between her small office space and the counter where customers stood. "I'll show you the space. You like it, you can come back and pay for the first month."

  Grandma opened the glass door and held it for the man to follow her to the empty locker. As she turned to close it, she looked at Tess' hiding place and shook her finger, letting Tess know she remembered who else was in her office.

  There was a sharp click as Grandma turned the deadbolt. No one could get into the office when she was away, but Tess could get out by turning the small knob on the lock.

  Awkwardly, Tess crawled out of her hiding place, and stood. She wanted Grandma to move the filing cabinet down a few inches. The space fit perfectly when she was six, but now that she was seven it was very tight.

  Tess looked out the blinds that covered the glassed office walls. There were two familiar cars. Both belonged to people Tess called the "have-it-all" folks. They rented only for a few months, at most. Usually it was because they had moved out of one home, but their new one wasn't ready yet. They talked all the time about how inconvenient it was to have to "live out of a storage locker" for a couple months. But, they all had hotels or apartments to go to, usually in real nice parts of town. And their children usually whined.

  Then there were the people who were down on their luck, just for a little while. Or so they said. They had to move because they couldn't afford their house or apartment anymore, and were staying with family or friends. But, at least they could afford to rent the storage space. They came there almost every week, sometimes bringing clothes as the seasons changed, sometimes taking out blankets or Christmas decorations. Tess called them the "someday" people, in honor of Mrs. Woodard, who always said her family would get a house again, "someday." Children of the 'someday' people were much quieter. They usually looked worried.

  The people Tess was at once fascinated with and afraid of were the ones who kept everything they owned in the lockers. They wouldn't call themselves homeless, but Tess knew they were. Anyone who pushed a shopping cart or wore two coats in the winter was almost always living on the street. Usually they were men, but lately there were more women. Never any children, but a couple of them talked about children. Sometimes, they talked to themselves more than to other people. Tess called them the "regulars." They almost never closed out their storage lockers, and every now and then, Grandma would give one of them a free month. Usually in the winter, when somebody got pneumonia.

  When she first came to live with Grandma Wilma, Tess would ask when her mother was coming back for her. For a long time, Grandma said something like, "In a few weeks," or "Surely by the end of the month." After awhile, Tess stopped asking. She knew her mother wasn't coming back. For a time, she sent postcards. Never picture postcards of places she visited, just the kind you bought at the post office. They never said much.

  Tess didn't miss her mother. She wasn't at all like the ones on television. She didn't take Tess to get pizza and she didn't have a busy job that meant she was always on the go, like the women in the hair color commercials. But, Maria McGinty could watch television with the best of them. One of her boyfriends said if there was ever a game show with soap opera trivia questions, Maria would win. Often, Tess had sat nearby, watching her mother as she watched the soaps. Tess could tell that she was imagining herself in one of the roles--a glamorous one, of course.

  She did pick nice boyfriends, though, and they all liked Tess. Tess' dream was that one of them would marry her mother, and then Maria McGinty would die. Her now-stepfather would insist that Tess stay with him, and he would marry a nice woman. She would know how to bake chocolate chip cookies and would visit Tess' classroom on parents' day.

  So engrossed was she with her daydream of a new mother that Tess didn't notice Grandma and the older man walking toward the office. The jingle of the bell above the door startled her. Tess found herself looking into the sad eyes of the newest tenant of "East Side Public Storage."

  "We'll just get you signed up, and you can bring your things anytime." As Grandma followed the man into the office, she looked more surprised than the man to see Tess sitting on the chair by the window. "What, out in broad daylight?"

  Tess flushed. "I was watching for you out the wind
ow." Grandma threw her a sharp look. She knew that wasn't too likely. "Mr. Jasper, this is my granddaughter, Tess. You'll see her around here. Lives here, she does."

  Mr. Jasper nodded to Tess and turned back to Grandma. "I'll be here early, ma'am."

  "Suit yourself." Grandma eyed him as he filled out the short application, and counted out the money for the first month's rent. "What kinds of things will you be putting in the locker?" Tess was surprised. Grandma never asked that.

  The man didn't look up. "Just some odds and ends. Memories, mostly."

  Grandma looked away, and Tess sensed she was sorry she'd asked. Memories, Tess thought. Must have a lot for a nine by twelve.

  Tess looked for Mr. Jasper the next morning. She had never heard anyone say they kept memories in their storage space. She wasn't sure that she wanted to see. He looked as if most of his memories could be sad ones. Tess bent over her knapsack as she pretended to carefully pack her lunch in the side pocket.

  "Quit stalling now. Bus'll be here shortly." Grandma was very strict about school. Tess had to be as hot as a polar bear in summer, according to Grandma, before she could stay home.

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