Angry Annie

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Angry Annie Page 6

by Dawn L. Chiletz


  “Did you poison them?”

  “No. I’m saving the poison for the last day, after I write my article.”

  I almost think I see a twinkle in her eye.

  I gaze out her back window. “Did Rhode bring you tacos last night?”

  “Yeah, they were cold, thanks to you. Why?”

  “I just wondered. How did he seem?”

  Her eyes narrow and she takes a bite of the blueberry muffin. “He seemed irritating as usual.” She places the muffin on the table and stares at me for a second. “You into him?”

  “Me? No! Not at all.”

  “Uh-huh. I saw you two walking last night. You were making googly eyes at him.”

  “I was not. I don’t even know what googly eyes are.”

  “Oh yeah, you do. You made ’em.” Her voice rises an octave as she speaks in what I assume is supposed to be an imitation of me. “Oh, Rhode, you is such a manly man. My kitty has been ignored for so long. Would you like to pet it and hear it meow?”

  I almost spit my coffee. I think she thinks I’ll be angry, but I laugh instead. “Would it be so bad if I liked him?”

  “I expect it. Annoying attracts annoying. Maybe you can get him to leave me alone and he can get you to go away.”

  “I don’t think he’ll go anywhere. He really likes you. You must be nicer to him than you are to me.” I chuckle lightly.

  She makes a face as she takes another bite of her muffin. “These are lousy and the coffee is mediocre.” She spits her food into a napkin and gets up to throw it in the trash.

  I shake my head. They’re fantastic. She ate over half of it before she said she didn’t like it. It makes me think she complains just to complain.

  “Stupid, come eat your breakfast.”

  She opens a can and places a bowl on the table. “Want me to get some for you too?” she says with a small laugh.

  “Ha-ha.”

  My chair shakes and I hear a thump as Stupid runs into it. “Aww. You okay?”

  “You ain’t supposed to be here. He’s confused.”

  I pick him up and place him on the table to eat his food.

  “Get your stuff, we gotta go,” Annie announces.

  “Where are we going now?” I ask, slightly afraid to get in a car with Annie again.

  “Work. You gonna make me late.”

  “Work? You have a job?”

  “Why you so shocked? Yeah, I got a job.”

  I’m secretly surprised anyone would hire her. “Can I drive?”

  “You gonna expect me to pay for your gas?”

  “No.”

  “Okay then, let’s go.” She motions to the door. I grab my bag and my coffee and hustle over to my car to make sure my passenger seat is still clean. I heard enough from my mother about my messy car yesterday to last me a lifetime. I don’t need to hear anything from Annie.

  I open the door and she gazes into the back seat at the wrappers, clothes, shoes, and take-out bags. She slides into the seat and clutches her purse tightly to her chest. She buckles her seat belt and slowly glances behind her one more time before staring at me in awe. She starts making that noise with her teeth.

  “I know. It’s a mess. I don’t need to hear it.”

  “Child, you homeless? You livin’ in your car?”

  “No! I’m not homeless. I’m just not very organized.”

  “Organized ain’t the word I’d use. You probably got bugs livin’ in here.”

  “No. I don’t. I cleaned it a couple of days ago. Now where are we going?”

  She motions straight and gazes over the seat one more time. “I don’t like this.”

  “What? Are you afraid my driving will be too slow for you?” I laugh.

  “There could be a dead body back there.”

  Rolling my eyes, I drink what’s left of my coffee and toss the empty cup over my shoulder.

  “You did not!”

  “What?”

  “Throw your cup in your back seat. That’s a disgrace. You need to take care of your things. Turn here.”

  I drive as instructed. “I do.”

  “No, you don’t. You gotta have respect for your things. Just like people. It goes a long way.”

  I gaze over at her and ponder her choice of words. They’re almost exactly mine. Could she and I have something in common? She seems really nervous. Have I found her weakness? Is it possible Annie hates chaos?

  She motions for me to turn into the parking lot of a dollar store.

  “You work here?”

  “Yeah. You got a problem with that?”

  “No. I just didn’t expect you to work with . . . well . . . you know, people. Since you hate them so much.”

  “I don’t hate people. I hate annoying little twerps that don’t listen. Now, you can’t stay. Harold isn’t going to want you bothering me. Come back and get me at two.”

  “Two?” I question. “No way. Our deal was all day.”

  “You ain’t gonna get me fired. Now skedaddle.”

  I watch her walk into the store in complete disbelief. She let me drive her here and then expects me to come back in four hours to get her? I was trying so hard to keep my cool, but I’m starting to get angry. I place the gear in reverse and change my mind. She can’t tell me what to do. It’s a public place. I’ll just go in there and look around.

  As soon as I walk through the door I notice another older woman working at the register. She smiles. Clearly Annie doesn’t work the register. I hope. How could anyone be dumb enough to place Annie in a job dealing with the public? Better yet, who in their right mind would hire her?

  I sashay up and down the aisles looking for Annie. I start to wonder if she ran out a back door to escape me. This is a big store. It’s clean and organized. I can see why she likes it. Pretty colors and items I didn’t know I needed distract me. One dollar for lotion? Why do I not shop here?

  Before I know it, I can no longer hold all my purchases. I drop a can of Pringles and a nice man bends to get it for me.

  “Would you like a cart?” he asks.

  “You have carts?” It’s as if the heavens opened.

  He smiles brightly. “Give me a second.”

  I’m so excited I almost forget why I’m in the store in the first place. That is, until I see his name badge—Harold.

  “Here you go, sweetheart.”

  “You’re Harold. Annie’s boss?”

  “Oh boy.” His eyes roll. “What did she do?”

  I like him even more. “Nothing. Well, not yet.” I drop all my items into the cart and hold out my hand to him. “I’m Joss. I’m writing an article on her for The Gaggle.”

  “The magazine?”

  “The one and only. I’m supposed to be following her around all day to write a story. She told me I couldn’t come in, but I didn’t listen.” I wink at him.

  “Of course you can come in.” He glances down at the items in my cart.

  “Is it okay if I hang out here and watch her? I promise to stay out of the way. I’ll just be shopping.”

  He gently touches my arm. “Any friend of Annie’s is a friend of mine. You are more than welcome to stay. Let me know if you need anything.”

  “She isn’t my friend.”

  I hear her voice before I see her.

  “Annie, did you really tell this nice girl she couldn’t shop here?” Harold asks.

  I smirk and cross my arms.

  “No. She didn’t say anything about spending money. I told her she couldn’t loiter and follow me around. I said I had work to do.”

  “She’s writing an article for The Gaggle on you? What did you do?”

  “Some people like me.”

  He turns to me. “If you find something nice to say about Annie, any chance you could mention the store?” Harold asks, wringing his hands.

  “I don’t see why not.”

  Annie places her hands on her hips. “Whatchoo mean if she finds something nice to say about me?”

  Harold ignores her
, waving his hand in the air. “Then you are more than welcome here, Joss. As a matter of fact, Annie, you should show her around.”

  “My cart—”

  “Oh, I’ll hold it for you. Go ahead and grab anything else you’d like. Annie, do whatever she wants.”

  Annie frowns and I grin until my entire face is a smile. This day keeps getting better.

  As soon as Harold walks away Annie crosses her arms. “You is trouble.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m sweet and fun. You just haven’t bothered to get to know me.”

  “You’re a pain in the ass. That’s what you are.”

  Annie stomps away mumbling something under her breath. Harold took my cart and Annie left me. I’m not sure whether or not I’m supposed to follow her, but seeing as she never tells me, I decide I’d better.

  She wanders through an employees only entrance, but I go after her, certain my new buddy Harold wouldn’t mind.

  She’s still talking to herself when she bends down and picks up a box twice her size and tosses it like it’s made of air.

  “Hey. Where’s my tour?” I ask. I know I’m pushing it, but I don’t care. It’s fun.

  “You want a tour? Come here.”

  I follow her down a hall to a door. “Inside here is where magic happens. Go see for yourself.”

  I push the door and a light flickers above a dirty toilet. “Seriously?”

  “Go see what’s written on the sign on the back of the door.”

  I step inside and she pulls the door closed so I can see it. There’s nothing on the door. Then I hear a click.

  “Annie? There’s no sign in here.” I pull on the handle and it’s locked. “Annie?”

  “Oooh, no sign? Hmm. Someone must have stolen it. I wonder who. Enjoy your visit.” She laughs.

  “What? Oh come on! We were just playing.” The lights go out in the bathroom and I freak out. “Annie, it’s dark!”

  “It’s motion activated, you big dodo bird. Wave your hands around. Get comfortable. I’ll be back in a few hours. Nobody tells me what to do. Tour my ass.”

  “You can’t be serious. Annie? Annie?”

  After a few minutes of silence I realize she’s not coming back. “What the actual fuck?” I yell for help and there’s no response. I realize I’m in the back of the store room and no one can hear me. Unless someone has to poop in the near future I’m stuck back here. What if there were a fire? What kind of bathroom door locks from the outside?

  Annie isn’t only angry. She’s also devious. I’m guessing she doesn’t like being told what to do and she certainly doesn’t like being teased. The lights go out again and I wave my arms around like a bird flapping its wings. I remove my purse from around my neck and place it on the sink. My purse!

  I take out my cell and begin searching for the phone number for the store. If I tell Harold what Annie did, would he fire her? As much as I like the idea of getting her in trouble, I’m certain that if I tattle, she’ll be done with me. I still need those reviews.

  I place my phone in my back pocket and gaze up at fluorescent lights. That’s when I see a vent above the toilet. A light bulb flicks on in my head. I think back to all the movies I’ve seen where people escape through vents. It can’t be that hard, right? It seems wide enough. I imagine myself climbing through the vents and scaring Annie on the other side. The idea of freaking her out gives me sick pleasure.

  I wonder if I step on the toilet if I can reach it. The toilet is nasty, so I layer toilet paper on the bowl so I don’t get the bottom of my Chucks dirty. I carefully step up and lift my arms above my head. I’m still too far away.

  Think, Joss, think. As I’m staring around the room, the lights go out again. I need to keep moving. Hopping off the toilet, I pace for a bit before staring at my reflection in the mirror. I turn around and lean on the sink. What can I use to give me more height? There isn’t much in the room other than the waste paper basket. That’s it! I’ll stand on the basket on the toilet. Sounds like a good plan to me.

  I dump the trash on the floor and turn the basket upside down on the paper lined toilet. I slowly step from the bowl to the basket and can finally reach the vent. With one hand on the wall and the other on the vent, I dig my nails under the edge and start to pull. The lights go out again. Afraid to lose what little progress I’ve made, I release my hand from the wall and wave.

  I hear a cracking noise and I pray my gut is wrong. “No, please!”

  The waste basket cracks under my full body weight and my foot slips right through it and directly into the water with a giant splash.

  “Fucking fuck! No!”

  I want to cry. It hurts, but more than that I’m mortified. I try to lift my foot out of the toilet and it’s stuck. It’s lodged in the bowl. Is this how it ends? I can see the bi-line, “Aspiring journalist dies of starvation in dollar store bathroom. Found with one foot inside a dirty toilet bowl with a garbage can around her leg.”

  Just as I’m about to scream bloody murder, my phone vibrates in my back pocket. It’s an unknown number. Oh God. What if it’s Claus calling from home?

  I almost reject the call, but at this point, I feel as if someone should hear me take my last breath.

  “Hello?” I try not to seem panicked.

  “Joss? Hey, it’s Rhode. Is this a bad time?”

  “Oh, Rhode!” My voice is almost a whimper. “Thank God you called! I’ve never been so glad to hear your voice.”

  “Well, damn. I was kind of hoping you’d be happy to hear from me, but this exceeded my expectations.”

  “I need help!”

  “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

  “No. No, I’m not. Annie locked me in a bathroom at her workplace and I’ve had a little accident.”

  “Wait, what? What kind of accident? Are you hurt?”

  “Umm, I’m kinda okay and kinda not.”

  “Stay there. I’m on my way.”

  “I couldn’t go anywhere if I tried.”

  “Umm, where am I going? I didn’t know Annie had a job.”

  “Yeah, she works at the dollar store over on Fifth.”

  “Okay, I’ll leave now. I’ll be there in twenty minutes, give or take traffic. Unless, you want me to call someone else. Like the police or fire department first?”

  “No. Please don’t tell anyone.”

  “Okay, I’ll be right there. Do you want to stay on the phone?”

  An image of Rhode walking into the bathroom and seeing me with my foot stuck in the toilet bowl plays like a movie in my head. Is this how I want him to think of me from here on out? I bet I smell like literal shit. “Wait!” I shout. “Don’t come. Do me a favor and call Annie. Tell her to let me out. Please?”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. If she doesn’t come, then I’ll call you back.”

  “All right, I’ll call her now. And, Joss? I’m going to talk to her about this.”

  “Thanks. Just call her, okay?”

  I stand there for what seems like forever. The lights go out again and I no longer have the energy to wave my hands. I position myself as comfortably as possible while toilet water creeps up my jeans. I wonder how many people have crapped in this toilet and how many anti-disease shots I’m going to have to get if I ever get out. I think of all the possibilities to keep my mind occupied. There’s tetanus, hepatitis, rabies . . .

  Just as I’m about to call Rhode back, the bathroom door flies open. Annie takes one look at me as the lights flicker to life and covers her mouth with her hand. A snicker turns into a full-blown howl.

  “You know what?” I scream. “I could have called the police on you, or called Harold for that matter, but I didn’t. Because I’m a good person.”

  “You tryin’ to convince me or yourself?” She walks toward me and looks in the bowl. “Child, what did you do? I told you to wait. Did you try to flush yourself down the toilet?”

  “No, I tried to climb up the garbage can to reach the vent so I could climb out. It c
racked and I fell in and now my foot is stuck.”

  “Some might say you’re in a real shitty situation.”

  “So help me God, Annie!”

  “I don’t know ’bout you, but I’m pooped.” She slaps her hand on her leg as she continues to laugh.

  “It isn’t funny! I’m really stuck. Stop laughing at me. I’m tired of all of this.”

  “You tired of taking everybody’s crap?” She roars at that one.

  My bottom lip quivers. I’m going to die here with the worst joke teller in history.

  “Ooh, now don’t cry. No sense losing any more water.” She leans over me and seems to assess the situation. “Well, just pull your foot out of the toilet.”

  My head leans to the side in disbelief. “Don’t you think I would have done that if I could?”

  “How in the world?” she asks as she lifts the garbage can up my leg. “It looks like your shoe is stuck. Maybe if you slide your foot out of your shoe you’ll be okay.”

  “I can’t slide it out. My shoes are tied tight.”

  “Then untie them.”

  “I can’t reach.” I show her how I can barely bend because of the trash can. “You need to do it.”

  “Nu-uh. I ain’t sticking my hands in that bowl. I’m pretty sure Harold shit out a month’s worth of pork chops in there this morning.”

  I put my hands over my eyes. “You’re not helping me.”

  “I didn’t force you to go swimming.”

  “Annie. Please!”

  She stares at me for a moment and starts making that clicking sound in her mouth again. “Hold on. I gots an idea.”

  I sigh and watch her leave. So help me, she’d better come back. A minute later, she returns with salad tongs. She starts unwrapping them from the plastic.

  “Are you serious? You’re going to use dollar store salad tongs to get me out of the toilet? What’s wrong with you?”

  “Shut your face. You want my help or not?”

  I nod.

  “Hold your designer basket legging up.”

  I lift the basket and she plunges the tongs into the water and starts working them around my shoe.

  “Do you have any idea how much I paid for these shoes? I’m never going to be able to wear them again, you know?”

  “Hush your mouth. Your breath stinks and I can’t focus on your shoe with your skunk breath in my face.”

 

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