S.D. Youngren - Rowena 4 - Rowena Tries To Help Her Sister.txt

by Rowena Tries To Help Her Sister

  On the other side of the possum and two seats away was a man with a snake looped over his neck. Rowena was not especially bothered by snakes, but the possum lady kept looking at this one from the corners of her eyes. Rowena looked to her right. A beagle and a large grey cat, both on leashes; the beagle on the floor by a man's feet and the cat in a woman's lap. Evidently the "normal" side of the room.

  The front door opened and a woman struggled in. She had three cat carriers, and Rowena hastened to hold the door for her.

  "Oh, thank you," the woman said. She beamed at Rowena, who started back to Linus' side. "Oh, is your kitty in there?" the woman asked. "I just love kitties! They are so adorable."

  "Well, actually--" Rowena began. The woman lined up her cat carriers on the elevated countertop and came after her. "What kind is she?" she asked, bending. Before Rowena could answer, the woman let out a shriek.

  "It's a dog!" she cried. "Horrible dirty disgusting bloodthirsty beast! A DOG!"

  "He's a nice dog," Rowena objected.

  "Keep him away from my kitties!" She marched back to the reception desk, stopping just long enough to glare first at Rowena, and then at the owner of the beagle.

  "Hear that, Sneed?" the man said. "Stay away from those yummy cats over there." Sneed thumped his tail, and the man gave Rowena a conspiratorial wink.

  "Oh! Barbarians, every one of them!" This seemed to refer equally to the dogs and their owners. She regarded the grey cat a moment. "You poor thing, trapped over there with those beasts. Poor terrified kitty."

  "For Pete's sake," said the cat's owner, irritably. "Does she look terrified?"

  "Such a brave kittikins." She smiled sympathetically from the safe distance of the desk. "So brave."

  "May I help you?" inquired the receptionist, with a desperate cheerfulness the Kitty Lady didn't seem to notice.

  "I've got Mitzi, Mittens, and Boots here for their check-up," she announced. "And I'll have to make an appointment for Fluffy, Snowball, and Fred."

  Just to get a little farther away from all this and to give herself something to do besides listen to it, Rowena went over to the bulletin board. Lost Parrot--Reward. Two Sweet Bunnies Need Home--Must Stay Together. Does Your Pet Have Cancer? What You Should Know. Lost Cat--Jenny is a 6-year-old calico with a bandaged leg. Loyal & Lovable: Herman is still mourning the death of his owner--he needs a warm loving home right away! Found: Pregnant Cat, now the mom of 7 healthy kittens. Reward for Lost Dog--needs medication. Help us find our pride & joy. What Is Feline Leukemia?

  Rowena sat back down. She thought about frightened missing pets. She thought of the Sweet Bunnies, of confused, unhappy Herman. Of people with immediate need of the medical brochures.

  A veterinary assistant appeared. "Ah--Stinky?" she asked. Rowena was pretty sure which of the animals was Stinky. Sure enough, the lady with the possum stood up.

  "I had to call him something for the form," she said, smiling. "I'm only keeping him till he's better." The Kitty Lady looked over at the possum and gave a long, slow shudder; this time, however, she said nothing. Rowena, who had expected a shriek at least, relaxed a little and settled back in her chair.

  "What happened to him?" the assistant asked.

  "I guess something attacked him, or . . . I don't know; I just found him like this."

  "They're not supposed to get attacked," the assistant said. She let the woman and possum into the middle examining room. "Isn't that playing possum stuff supposed to protect them?" The door closed, and any response the woman made was lost.

  Rowena continued to sit. The snake went in for its appointment; evidently it was called Slithers. A mutt came in, and a parrot. The mutt was wearing a big funnel-shaped collar to prevent her from chewing a still-bald spot. Rowena eyed her; she was glad when the dog's person led her to a far chair. The grey cat was called; her name was Misty. The Snake Man left the examining room with Slithers again around his neck. Then it was Sneed's turn. And then the parrot's. Then Mitzi, Mittens, and Boots, as the Kitty Lady watched with an eagle eye the assistant who helped her carry them in.

  Presently the front door burst open and a man rushed in. Holding the door for a woman with a cardboard box, he called to the desk, "We called; we've got Max here; he was hit by a car." His voice rose slightly at the end: please know about us; please be ready. Please save our pet right now.

  "Of course," said the receptionist. "Dr. Arthur is waiting for you. Right this way." And they hurried after her.

  Rowena looked at the floor. She waited. She heard a receptionist say to an assistant, "What a day, huh?"

  "Were you here when the Great Dane came in who'd eaten the rat poison, or was that before your time?"

  "Oh, God, that must have been before."

  "Absolutely miserable; he came in while we had this litter of puppies who were dying of parvo and a cat--" The assistant noticed that people were listening and lowered her voice. The receptionist whispered back something that sounded shocked as the people waiting pretended they weren't trying to hear. Rowena looked at Linus, watched him watching her.

  She went on waiting. She wondered what kind of emergency Dr. Brewer had had. She wondered what sort of animal Max was. She wondered if they'd be all right. She reminded herself that this was an animal hospital; that this sort of thing happened. Linus cocked his head at her; he was wondering something too.

  From behind one of the examining room doors she heard someone cry, "Oh, no." Rowena took a breath. Linus was still looking at her. She put her hand flat on the carrier door, but did not speak.

  "Linus?" the assistant said.

  Their turn. Rowena got up and lifted the pet carrier which held safe her perfectly healthy dog. The assistant stepped aside as she approached.

  "See? What did I tell you? We're home!" Rowena unlocked her door and brought Linus in. She locked the door behind them. And then she knelt in front of the carrier and opened the door.

  "Easy does it, okay?" He stepped out; he was back home but still confused. She lifted him gently.

  "I know what we'll do," she said. "Come here." She went to the chair by the telephone, sat carefully down and put Linus in her lap. She scratched him behind the ears. "How's that?" she asked. "Just the way you like it, huh?"

  She reached for the phone, picked it up, and dialed Sammy's number.

  "Hello?"

  "Hi," said Rowena. "We're back." She leaned against the cushion, the telephone with Sammy's voice warm against her ear and her dog snuggled in her lap--her own Linus who had never been really sick, who had never given her that much cause to worry. "They had two emergencies and an injured opossum and--and here I'd been feeling guilty about taking him in and--and there's nothing wrong with him."

  "You're a conscientious pet owner," Sammy said.

  "Well--I guess. But I was seeing all these things going wrong, all these dangers and everything, and I feel so lucky. Isn't it funny?" Rowena asked. "I just feel so fortunate."

  Rowena Goes To A Show

  Fiction by S. D. Youngren

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Rowena pulled her chair closer to her phone. "Maralynne. Slow down. Okay?"

  Her sister took a deep breath. "I've got a job," she said.

  "A job?" Rowena hadn't known she'd lost the old one.

  "An acting job." Maralynne was insulted.

  "Of course," said Rowena. "How silly of me. Congratulations; tell me about it."

  "It's at the county computer show. You've heard about it?"

  "N-no."

  "Well, I'm going to be in a--a skit. It's--well, it's not as good as a movie, but I've been having this kind of dry period and . . ."

  "Well, it'll give you . . . a new kind of exposure." Rowena settled back in her chair. "What kind of skit is it?"

  "I get to be the secretary who saves the day," Maralynne said. "It's a real departure for me--a real broadening of my talents."

  Rowena closed her eyes, briefly. "Congratul
ations," she said again.

  "So, are you coming?"

  "To a computer show?"

  "To see me!"

  "Well, I . . ." Sucked in again. "When is it?"

  "Do you have a piece of paper? I'll give you directions."

  "Just a minute." Rowena got a notepad and a pen. She did not hurry.

  "I think I see it," Rowena said. She pointed out the sign: Abacus Industries, Inc.

  "Lead on, then," said Sammy. He touched her arm; a quick caress. "So do we applaud, or what?"

  "Beats me. I guess we do whatever everyone else does." Rowena stepped quickly around a man who was walking with his forehead practically touching the screen of a laptop computer. "To think," she said, "that I once tried to talk her into taking a computer class but she didn't want to deal with nerds."

  Sammy laughed. "Look at it this way," he said. "If she'd taken your advice then, she may not have been willing to take this job now."

  "And we wouldn't be spending our Saturday at a computer show." Rowena smiled at him. "I hope she's having fun, but I'm afraid I'm not convinced this is her kind of place. Even if she does dress like the `salesladies' we've seen here." She stopped at the entrance to the Abacus booth. Sammy stopped with her.

  "Okay?" he asked.

  "Okay." They went in.

  The booth was one of the larger ones, complete with a little stage with office-furniture props, including a computer. There was no sign of Maralynne. Possible customers milled around; near Rowena a salesman was trying to convince one of them to take the plunge. "What if I don't have the RAM?" the man asked. Somebody behind her said something about a "CPU problem." She looked at Sammy; he took her arm and led her away. Rowena now found herself looking at the little stage and at the computer there. "Hello!" said the monitor in bright changing colors. Next to the desk sat a file cabinet; Rowena wondered whether it was empty or perhaps filled with brochures. "Welcome to Abacus Industries," the computer screen said. Rowena turned away before it had a chance to get technical.

  "What's with the bimbo?" demanded a male voice. Rowena stiffened. She felt Sammy's hand in hers and looked around to see how the other people were reacting. No one seemed to pay any attention. Rowena realized there were no other women in the booth. She tightened her fingers around Sammy's. She felt very outnumbered.

  "Okay, people, we've got a little demonstration for you!" The man who'd said "bimbo" stepped into the middle of the stage and looked over the crowd. When he saw Rowena he gave a start and looked a bit perturbed. Good, Rowena thought; make him squirm. "Let's go!" he yelled, in the general direction of outside.

  He retreated and two other men walked up. Their names apparently were Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones, and they were in trouble; the Big Boss was coming to inspect the office and it was a disorganized mess. Payroll, supplies--everything was utter chaos.

  "We'll both be downsized!" cried Mr. Jones. "What will we do?"

  A short-skirted, low-necklined, high-heeled Maralynne entered the booth, amidst catcalls and applause and followed by a small troop of men from outside. Rowena wanted to hide, but her sister was unfazed; she gave a little wave to nobody in particular before stepping onto the stage. "I can get this office organized in a snap!" she said, holding a package aloft. "With Abacus 3.1416." Hips swinging, she walked, amidst more catcalls, over to the computer.

  "More software," groaned Mr. Smith. "We don't have time to learn new software."

  "You have time to learn Abacus 3.1416," Maralynne said. "It's as easy as pie!" Rowena winced. Her sister--bending well over--studied the computer. "Now," she said. "Ummm . . ." Mr. Jones sidled over and surreptitiously punched a key. The computer's monitor changed to show columns of names and numbers.

  "Abacus 3.1416 can do it all," Maralynne said. "Payroll, planning, word processing--you can count on Abacus."

  Rowena winced again. "The Big Boss will be so pleased," said Mr. Jones. He punched a few more keys. "Look at that! A spreadsheet!"

  Somebody behind Rowena muttered something about Maralynne and sheets. Rowena squeezed Sammy's hand, tightened her empty hand into a fist. She was glad Sammy was there to protect her.

  "Abacus does so much," Maralynne went on, "I almost wonder what you'll need me for."

  "Don't be silly, Bubbles," Mr. Smith said. "Go get us some coffee. Unless Abacus can do that too."

  All three of them laughed, and the skit was over. Maralynne stepped down to greet a few of her new fans and, eventually, Rowena and Sammy.

  "How'd you like it?" she asked.

  "I, um--I bet you sell a lot of--product," Rowena managed.

  "Very informative," Sammy said. Maralynne beamed at him.

  "A lot of people don't understand how challenging this sort of thing is," she said. "You don't have, you know, an hour and a half or something to flesh out your character, like in a movie or something." Maralynne had never been in a movie.

  "Did they have to call you Bubbles, though?" Rowena couldn't help asking.

  "That was just her name. You know, just something cute. Friendly." Maralynne tossed her hair. "You have to get the interest and sympathy of the audience." She seemed to be quoting from something or somebody. Rowena gave up.

  "Sammy and I are going for a bite to eat," she said. "Wanna come?"

  "Sorry; I got lots more shows to do. Come by at 4:30 and we can go then."

  "Okay by me," Rowena said. "Sammy?"

  "Sure." Sammy slipped his arm around Rowena's waist. "See you then," he said.

  "Okay. I'd better get back to work." Maralynne leaned forward confidentially. "They can't get enough of me," she said, looking a little slyly at Sammy. Before Rowena could decide what to do, Maralynne gave them a smile, a wink and a little wave and turned back to her audience. As Rowena and Sammy left they heard Maralynne explain, "It's, like, a real good, um . . ."

  "Program," the customer said.

  "Want to see some more of the show?" Sammy asked.

  "I don't know. I could use the walk, I guess." Rowena sighed. "How can she do that?" she asked.

  "She's a different person. It doesn't look the same way to her." He gave Rowena a squeeze. "She just figures she's getting attention."

  "But . . ."

  "It's what she wants."

  Rowena trudged along. "Do you think it's good for her?"

  Sammy considered. "She needs something," he said. "Everybody does. Even people who haven't been jilted by assholes."

  Rowena sighed again. Before she could speak, a man stepped in front of her, peering at her and weaving slightly.

  "Hey," he said. "How come you got so much clothes on?"

  "Free will," snapped Sammy. He led Rowena away.

  "I think," Rowena said, "I want to go someplace else now."

  He took her to a coffee shop. He helped her order. She was tempted to have lemonade, but lemonade reminded her of Maralynne.

  "Come on," Sammy said. "Relax." He put his hand over hers. "They don't mean any harm and they're not actually bothering her."

  "I might feel better if she was bothered," Rowena said. "Perverse, isn't it?"

  "She's your little sister," Sammy said. "You want to protect her."

  Rowena traced a design in the moisture on her water glass. "Do you think I--that I'm imposing my own--I mean, more than I really should?"

  Sammy considered. "Probably," he said. "But I don't think you should feel too guilty about that."

  "It's all so--"

  "I know," Sammy said. He slid over closer to her, up against her. "Listen. She's happy this way, more or less. And she's really not the kind to get too badly hurt."

  "I know . . ."

  "And something nice might even come of all this. She might even be discovered. It happens."

  "She's really not the greatest actress."

  "True," Sammy said. "But she's got her heart set on it. So maybe it's not such a bad thing that she's willing to--to compromise your standards."

  Rowena smiled. Sammy put his arm around her shoulders, and she leaned ag
ainst him.

  "Here ya go," said the waitress, lowering Rowena's plate. Rowena smiled at her, too.

  They went for a walk and a matinee, returning to the Abacus booth just before Maralynne's last show started. The crowd this time seemed a little less rude; possibly, Rowena thought, the various booths and events had worn them out. She watched her sister deliver her lines, start the Abacus program (she did it herself this time), and laugh (again) at the joke that ended her skit. A salesman took her place on the stage. "Any questions?" he asked of anybody who wasn't too busy watching Maralynne mingle. Rowena was watching Maralynne too; her sister glanced at her but went on trying to sell her product. Rowena waited.