by V. L. Holt
It passed the time. If they seemed alarmed when I gave them a knowing smile, well it was harmless fun. I got off at a stop by the cheap grocery store. I should get one of those handy grocery carts like the woman who got off with me had.
Logic told me we were headed the same way, so I started up a conversation.
“Hi there. Are y’all going to the Shop N Save?” I asked her.
“Why yes I am,” she said with a smile.
“Let’s walk together. I always like to make a new friend,” I said.
“Well aren’t you a ray of sunshine in this Godforsaken town,” she said nodding and smiling at me.
“Oh I don’t know about that, mother,” I called her out of respect.
“You must be from the South,” she suggested. Her gate was a little slower than I might have gone, but I did love to talk.
“I’m from Texas. I actually just moved here almost a year ago,” I said.
“Oh my. What brought you up north? We’re getting set to have cold weather soon, you know. You’re going to miss your Texas heat, child,” she said with a little laugh. “But I suppose you already had one winter here,” she continued.
“Yes, that was something for this Texas girl! But that’s okay. I wanted to strike out on my own. See if I could make something of myself,” I told her. I left out the part about leaving memories so painful I could barely breathe. She had me second guessing myself, as if I hadn’t already been since the fiasco with Ray. What was I thinking?
“Well that is a brave thing to do. We do have to break away from the apron strings, don’t we? I recall when I was newly married, Stanford and myself moved here from Ohio. We didn’t want our parents looking over our shoulders,” she laughed again.
That made me feel a little better.
“My name is Lauren Beckers. I waitress in a diner and I moonlight as a singer on the weekends,” I told her. She stopped pushing her cart and held her hand out for me to shake.
“A pleasure. My name is Dorothy Porchere. Do you shop here often?” She asked me as we approached the store.
“It’s the only place to go when you’re living on tips!” I said with a laugh. I held the door open for her and we parted ways. It was likely we’d meet up again on the train.
I flip-flopped my way through the aisles, only a little self-conscious of the slapping noise my shoes made on the linoleum.
I decided on simple staples that wouldn’t cost much and that would allow me to keep a few dollars of walking around money.
Potatoes, eggs, rice, tomatoes, bread, beans, lard, cheese, fresh chicken and pork. I could eat like a queen this week, as long as Ray moved his butt out. My food would not stretch if he was still hanging out on my couch.
If he was still there at 5pm what was I going to do next? What if I got rid of my couch? That could work.
The cashier rang me up and Dorothy was not far behind. I snuck a glance in her grocery bag.
Cat food, I noticed with a smug smile.
Chapter Nine
When Zack walked in, Dave was nowhere to be found. He felt relief but also regret. The whole thing was a fiasco and it was his fault.
He spied the gaming system and reviewed the events of the night before.
He’d been agitated without knowing why, and ended up picking that fight with his roommate. He stared at the gaming system. It was the gunfire! He hadn’t registered it, but his agitation had grown throughout the afternoon and into the night. It was because of the sounds of gunfire and men screaming in the background.
He ran his hands through his hair and then scrubbed his face with his calloused hands too. Afghanistan and Pakistan had seen him at his worst. Why was he freaking out now, safe at home, and a million miles away from danger?
A part of him remembered that guys in his same boat had been counseled to see therapists when they mustered out. It seemed like a weakness to have to do that.
But when he looked at his hands, capable of destruction, and what he’d almost done last night to an innocent woman, he realized maybe it wasn’t the easy way out. Maybe it was the only way out.
He took the quiet time with David gone to catch a shower, shave and gather up his belongings. He wasn’t sure where he was going next, but he was fairly certain Dave would want him out now. He got the pistol and put it on Dave’s nightstand.
He got his backpack and stuffed it with his few possessions. He only had a few shirts and trousers, socks and underwear and the one pair of shoes. Comb and toothbrush and he was all set.
He’d stayed with Dave the longest of anyone; they really got along well, since their brothers had been friends in high school. They’d found a mutual need…Dave needed a roommate, and Zack a place to stay. And the other need…he couldn’t think about it right now. His army pension helped with expenses, and when he could get work for long enough, he could splurge on other extras.
All packed up, he sat on the edge of the couch, content to wait for Dave to get back. He figured he owed him the courtesy of saying goodbye if nothing else. And of course, he needed to know if Dave was going to press charges.
He was sitting like that when Dave walked in with a girl.
Dave’s face lit up, in spite of the bandage and splint on his nose.
“Thank God, Zack! I was worried about you!” Dave said with feeling.
Zack was shocked. This was not the reaction he was expecting. He stood up and glanced at the girl, who seemed less enthusiastic to see him. She wore a scowl along with her uptown slacks, kiss-me heels, fitted wool jacket and silk scarf. She was a looker, and Zack was a little surprised she was on Dave’s arm.
“I’m sorry about everything,” Zack said, looking at Dave.
Dave gestured to his nose.
“Shut up. Don’t even worry about it. I was being a jackass too,” he said. “Hey, this is Sandra. Sandra, my best buddy Zack Daniels,” he introduced them.
She smirked.
“Maybe if you lay off the bottle you’ll be less inclined to argue with your fist,” she said.
Dave winced and murmured. “Sandra, not necessary,” he said quietly.
Zack shrugged.
“Dave, I won’t be troubling you anymore. I packed up my things. Your uh,” he quirked his mouth. “That thing I borrowed is on your night stand,” he said.
“Whoa whoa whoa, Zack. Where are you going exactly? You’re blowing this out of proportion. All is forgiven man!” Dave said.
Sandra continued to stare Zack down like he was something she found on the bottom of her expensive shoe.
“It’s okay, Dave. I’ll be in touch,” he said, and nodded at Sandra without smiling. “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” he said. His military training demanded he treat her with respect, but he did get a little perk out of knowing she wouldn’t appreciate being called ‘ma’am’ at her age. He put her at around 28 and Dave was 24. Sandra seemed like a man-eater, and he didn’t really want to be anywhere near her. Hopefully Dave would realize it sooner rather than later.
He gave Dave a little salute and walked out, slinging his backpack behind him.
Zack felt like he left a trail of regrets everywhere he went. He didn’t know where he was going now, but it was nothing new. He’d been wandering since he got back. Staying with Dave had been nice. He’d gotten some stability, some idea that he might be able to settle down and have some normal in his life. His panic attack that drove him to harm his friend…he paused. Dave had called him his ‘best buddy’. Zack swallowed a painful lump. His panic attack that drove him to harm Dave could never happen again. He couldn’t put people in danger.
He would go back to that hostel place and see about saving enough money for the plane ticket. Guys like him might choose to hitchhike back to Maryland, but he couldn’t risk it. He’d been in jail too many times in his youth to get away with hitchhiking. The mostly harmless way to get around wasn’t so harmless as soon as police found out you were a jailbird. They were much harsher at that point.
No, he needed to
fly. That was going to be bad enough. But a bus was out of the question.
He’d get another job clearing tables or maybe bouncing at a bar. He was going to make it this time. He fingered the business card that was soft as velvet from his many times caressing it in his pocket. He could do it. He would do it.
He walked on and on, found the hostel with its dingy walls and overheated rooms and overpopulation of hipsters and got settled.
Now he needed to find another job. He was bussing tables at a sports bar a few days a week, but it wasn’t enough and he hated the environment.
He was tough enough that he could work as a bouncer. It meant late nights, but he usually stayed awake nights anyway, trying to get the visions and noises out of his head.
The first couple places he walked to were full. The last guy he talked to suggested a lounge called “Lonely Nights”. He thought they might need a guy.
Backpack over his shoulder, Zack found the place. The concrete block building was painted all black. It was a one story building with a flat roof and had no windows. At first glance, it could almost be a nudie bar, but the sign was free of the usual terms like ‘live girls’ or ‘lap dances’. He walked in to a dim lit interior, scanned the large room and the dais with a grand piano on it, the scattered tables and chairs, and the long glossy bar with the jeweled glasses lining the wall.
A person came out of a back room. It was a petite woman with black hair and eyes, a tight-fitting pink sweater and a scarf tied fifties style around her neck.
“Hiya Boss, what can I do you for?” She asked him.
He couldn’t tell her age, but the military trained him that ma’am would do.
“Ma’am I’m here to see if you need a bouncer. I can start right away,” Zack told her. He was prepared to show his military ID, but he didn’t have a resume to speak of. People had the tendency to turn tail and run as soon as he lifted his shirt to show the hideous scar on his side.
She sized him up.
“Ex-military?” She asked him.
He nodded. “Army Ranger,” he said.
She smiled.
“You’ll do just fine. My last guy failed his drug test. Yes, I do random drug testing, call me a prude. Actually, don’t call me a prude. Call me Brenda,” she stuck her small hand out and he shook it, mindful not to crush her bones in his grip.
“If I may ask, how could you tell I was ex-military?” he asked her. This was starting to bug him. First Lauren, now Brenda.
“Your posture. Okay, come on back and we’ll get your first drug test done. No time like the present,” she announced and walked away, obviously expecting him to follow.
Imagine that. He was gainfully employed only a day after making one of the dumbest mistakes of his life. Drug tests didn’t worry him. He was clean as a whistle. Another thing the army had done for him.
He looked around the place as he walked the long hallway. Framed posters of the black and white movie greats lined the deep purple walls. Elegant wall sconces cast long shadows on unmarked doors. The last door proved to be the office where he signed paperwork. She made copies of his ID and held up a cup.
“Bathroom’s across from my door. I don’t need to escort you because my job applicants never know to expect this as part of the application process. Either you’re clean or you’re not,” she said and he took the cup.
“I’m glad you showed up, Zack. I’m too cheap to put an ad in the paper,” she said without watching him walk out. She was already making notes in a book and then tapping things into her computer.
“Start tomorrow night. It’s a Friday, so expect some action. Most of my clients can hold their liquor, but one of my singers really drives them wild,” she explained.
He walked out and got the job done, and then returned to the hostel. He had to secure a locker and use their computer. He needed to know exactly how much money to save in order to make his trip.
Chapter Ten
Bracing myself for disappointment, I entered my apartment with my bags of groceries. His crap was all over the place, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Small favors.
I put my things away and started the bacon for lunch. I was having a BLT and I would not be swayed. I also grabbed my phone out of my room. I was thinking I had left it charging, but the cable was out, so I must have forgotten and had to plug it back in. Sometimes I couldn’t keep up with technology.
I fried my bacon, twiddled with Facebook and Twitter on my phone, and mulled over things. I could throw his things out the window onto the sidewalk.
But my mama didn’t raise no white trash. I was not going to make a scene like a Jerry Springer debutante. Besides, I’d already done that a month ago, and he calmly brought everything back up.
I was as spineless as grandma’s fried calamari and okra. I even sheepishly helped him get his heavier suitcase through the door.
My inability to kick him out really embarrassed me.
Lunch was delicious; I cleaned up after myself and started bagging up his things in grocery sacks. I would just line the wall with his junk. I looked at my couch.
It had been a great find at a Salvation Army, nice vintage fabric and quality wood. Now there was a permanent dent in the cushions from Ray’s sorry butt.
What if?
I had a fantastic idea. I got my phone and snapped some photos. It was a little difficult on my small screen, but I managed to enter the text just the way I liked it and then uploaded the photos.
Feeling proud of myself for taking action, I decided to finish out my day with a walk to the library. I snagged some sappy romance titles and stopped by another thrift store on my way home.
A dress in the window caught my eye and I sashayed in to talk to Margaret.
“Lauren honey!” she cried when she saw me. “I haven’t seen you in a while! I’ve missed your smiling face!” she said.
“Hi Margaret. I just had some stuff, you know?” I said.
“Of course. Let me guess, you saw that dress in the window!” she said.
I nodded.
“I said to myself, if Lauren sees this, she won’t be able to help herself,” Margaret chuckled. “Let me help you get it off the dummy. Do you still have that discount coupon you were saving for a rainy day?”
I had to laugh. I held up my massive purse. “You know I do,” I said.
We got the green jeweled dress off and I carried it reverently into the dressing room.
I stared in the mirror.
It was glorious. It form-fitted to my breasts, then gently cascaded over my hips and flared out at my knees. It was a cocktail dress like no other, and I had to have it. I mentally ticked off the dollars and cents and did the math with my coupon. Yes!
Thank goodness Margaret didn’t mind my paying in change, as I emptied most of my tip money onto the counter. We counted out the price and I used a credit card to make up the small amount of difference.
“So worth it,” I said as I took my bag and smiled at Margaret on my way out.
“Don’t be a stranger, darlin’!” she called out to me when I jingled the bell while exiting through the glass doors.
“I won’t!” I shouted.
I floated all the way home, imagining how I looked in the dress. It was a keeper. I couldn’t wait for Friday now!
Ray on my couch sunk my mood immediately.
I glowered at him and stalked to my room, hanging my dress up and giving it one more loving caress before I reorganized the shoes in my closet. I could hear Ray in the living room surfing channels on the television and talking to someone on his phone.
Ray had friends?
Whatever. I thought I had a solution that would really work this time, and I waited patiently for my phone to start ringing.
For dinner I made myself a johnnycake. When I opened the fridge to get the bacon out, I noticed the stuff I’d already fried up was gone. So were half the eggs. Again.
I felt anger pooling in my gut. I closed my eyes and breathed out through my mouth,
letting that frustration go. My phone rang!
I answered with excitement.
“Yes,” I said. “Yes!” I said again. “Absolutely, “ I said. I smiled wide when I clicked my phone off and turned the corner from my kitchen to the living room.
“Ray, you going to be around for a bit?” I asked him sweetly.
“Yes, what’s up?” he asked suspiciously.
“Just wondered. Did you enjoy your little snack today?” I asked him.
He frowned at me, as well he should. He knew I was being flippant. I wiggled my fingers at him and returned to my work in the kitchen.
I wanted to scrub everything down before Friday. On Friday I worked a long shift at Lazy Eye’s, and then I was headed to Lonely Nights for the best job on the planet.
Karaoke at Jack’s was where I warmed up to do my real job, the job I wished I could do every day all day, and not just in the evening hours between 7 p.m. and 1am.
When my kitchen sparkled, I kept an ear open for steps in the outer hall. Sure enough, loud booming steps came up to the door. Ray stood immediately.
“Are you expecting someone?” he asked incredulously.
“As a matter of fact, I am Sugar,” I said. “Just stay put, I’ll get it,” I told him in my best Southern Belle voice. He sat bag down and slung himself across the couch like an afghan.
I opened the door to an incredibly burly guy.
“Here about the couch?” he asked.
I swallowed and nodded. This man was ginormous. His shoulders almost filled the doorway and his thighs, wrapped in dark denim, were thicker than my waist.
I gestured to the couch where Ray had suddenly decided to stand again.
The big man handed me the money, then walked over to the couch.
“You get that end,” he directed Ray who turned three shades of gray in a matter of seconds. He nodded and lifted, then glared at me as he and the gentle giant carried the couch out the door and down the steps.
Ha! That should show Ray. I expected him to call his friend within the hour and to disappear himself out of my life.
