Poor White Trash

by Jane Carrington

  “No. It’s just…nobody.” It was the picture I had drawn for Jake. The meaning was only ever meant for him.

  I began to relax as she held it comfortably in her hand, taking care not to smudge or wrinkle it. I thought it ridiculous at first; it was already wrinkled beyond hope from my cramming it in my backpack. I realized she was treating it with respect, not wanting to damage it further. I relaxed marginally.

  “You were very emotional when you did this.”

  I almost laughed out loud. When wasn’t I very emotional?

  “But there is an importance to this drawing. An urgency to convey a deeply meaningful message. And the beauty of it, is that I can’t quite read that message. You managed to mask the intent and leave it up to the viewer to make it personal.”

  She tore her eyes from it and looked up at me with a smile. “You are very talented, Meg,” she said softly. She handed it back carefully and returned to mending my backpack.

  “I had an idea. Just now actually, there is an art program down at the youth center for at risk kids. They are always looking for volunteers. Would that be something you would be interested in?”

  I pictured trying to teach the likes of Denny and Suzie Q to draw and shook my head.

  “I told you, I really don’t like to be around other people.”

  “These aren’t just other people, Meg. They are kids. Little kids. Not the adult children that run around these halls. First and second graders.”

  That changed things. I was desperate for something to occupy my time and distract me from my misery, I bit my lip, considering.

  She rummaged around her desk and pulled out a flyer. “Here’s the information and the contact number for John, the guy who runs the program. He’s a nice guy, I went to school with him. And I know he would love to have you on board.”

  I took the flyer and told her I would look into it, not sure if I were lying or not. She handed me the backpack with the bottom neatly sewn into place.

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem at all. Let me know if you decide to volunteer, okay?”

  I nodded, pulled my backpack on my shoulder and left her office. I was halfway down the hall before I realized that I had failed in my attempt to quit school.

  Chapter 11

  I didn’t mind riding the bus home alone, needing the time to think. While I was a little irritated at the councilor for being so proficient in her job that I hadn’t managed to quit, her suggestion weighed heavily on my mind. Not only did I need something to help fill the void in my life, I couldn’t help but think that I might be able to help someone. Wondering what I would have to look forward to had someone been there to encourage me when I was younger, I may still be poor, but I might not be jaded, anti-social and paranoid about my art. There was no harm in talking to the director, I supposed.

  I walked home slowly. I didn’t have to work that afternoon and I was grateful. I kept my eyes down as I passed Jake’s place. It hurt to even look in that direction. Especially at the deck. I don’t know how many hours we spent on that small deck talking.

  I was terribly lonely and missed talking…to anyone. I stopped in front of Sam’s house. I supposed it was time to find out if he was really sick or if he was so angry and humiliated that he had succeeded in what I couldn’t manage, and had quit school.

  I knocked on the door hesitantly. He opened it and looked surprised to see it was me.

  “Hey. Come on in.”

  I stepped inside having no idea what to say about Halloween night. Honesty was unfortunately the best policy. Taking a good look at him, I could see he was on the recovering end of a terrible flu.

  “Feeling batter?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I am now.”

  “I heard you were sick. I’m sorry I didn’t come over—”

  “No, I wouldn’t want you to have gotten this. It was bad.”

  I nodded and looked around awkwardly.

  “I’m glad you’re feeling better.” I said stupidly.

  “Thanks. Have a seat.” He pointed to the couch. I didn’t know if I wanted to stay that long, but I sat anyway.

  “I slept most of the week. I’m gonna have a hell of a lot of homework when I get back, but I figured the timing was as good as any to be out. I thought my being gone for a week would give you guys a chance to figure things out.”

  “Who’s you guys?”

  “You and Jake.”

  “Oh.”

  “So, did you really come here to check on me or did you come here to let me know who you’ve decided to be with.”

  “Sam, I—”

  “Look, it’s not as if I didn’t know, okay? It was obvious, Meg. I just didn’t let it stop me from trying.”

  “I didn’t realize it. Not consciously, anyway. Not till Halloween night,” I said in apology.

  “So now that you’ve realized what the rest of the world already knew, are you guys a thing now?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “He’s done. He told me Halloween night he was done and that he needed to travel light, whatever that means. I hate guy speak.”

  Sam laughed. “As if it’s any worse than girl-speak. It means he’s done trying to get you to see what you were too stubborn to see. Now, why he chose to use jealousy to get you to realize it is beyond me. Not a tactic I would have chosen, personally.”

  “You think that’s all it was? With Suzie and all? A jealousy tactic”

  “Yeah. That and being lonely. Without a doubt. I can’t see them working. Not for the long term.”

  “Then why put him and me through all that?”

  “Probably the lonely part, Meg. Nobody wants to be alone.” Jakes words echoed in my ears from the night I showed him my art.

  It actually feels nice, to have someone feel that way about you. Or, rather, to have someone show that they feel that way about you.

  “Did he tell you he was done before you realized you loved him?”

  “It sort of happened at the same time.”

  “So, he doesn’t know?”

  “Not really.”

  “Have you thought about telling him? That might change things.”

  I shook my head. “He’s done,” I said, not attempting to hide the sadness in my voice.

  “So, if he’s traveling light, is he still with Suzie?”

  “No clue. I don’t eat lunch anymore and we don’t have any classes together. We don’t speak at work.”

  “What do you do at lunch?”

  “Sit in the corner of the gym.”

  “Hmm. When I come back next week, do you want to still eat lunch with me?”

  “Sure.” We survived a few awkward moment of silence.

  “Want to call a do over? With us I mean?” he asked.

  Moment of truth. No more lies, no more using. I had to be completely honest.

  “I think I need to travel light, too, Sam. But I would really like it if we could stay friends.”

  He nodded. “Me, too. I won’t say I’m not disappointed, but friends is better than nothing. Want to watch a movie?” he asked grabbing for the remote, shaking off the rejection.

  “Nah, I have to get home and then I’m going up to the community center and see about volunteering.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  Suddenly I was more confident in my decision. I thought I might even be excited about it. “Yeah, there’s a kids art program there. I think I’m going to check it out.”

  “Well, maybe this weekend we could catch that movie. You know, as friends.”

  “Sure. Thanks for not being mad. I’m really sorry if I embarrassed you.”

  He shrugged. “I got over it. Like I said, I sort of knew from the start. I’m just stubborn like that. My experience is that the female heart can be very fickle and I thought maybe with enough attention and distraction…”

  I thought for a long moment. My heart was defiantly not fickle. Broken beyond repair, but not fickle. I had a flash of self-hatred for being so bl
ind.

  I smiled. “Well, I will admit, that tactic sounds a hell of a lot easier on a girl than the one Jake used. For a girl with a fickle heart, anyway.” I smiled.

  “See you later, Meg.” He reached out and touched my hand.

  “See you Monday.”

  ­♥­

  Later that afternoon, I set out for the community center. It was only five but the winter sun was beginning to set. I had thought twice about walking alone at night, but curiosity and a driving need to fill my time with something over berating myself, pushed me to slip on my coat not willing to wait until Monday. The class was in session now and I wanted to see it working before I committed to anything. Besides, it was only a twenty minute walk and the neighborhood surrounding the community center wasn’t that bad.

  There was a brisk wind coming out of the north. I thought we would get snow any day now.

  As I passed Jakes place, I couldn’t help but notice it was dark and his father’s truck missing from the driveway. Pushing the possibilities out of my mind of where he might be, I started drawing in my head, planning my next project.

  I walked into the community center to find it was warm and bright. I could hear a fierce game of basketball going on in the distance along with the grunts and metal clanks echoing from the weight room across from the information desk. I smelled the faint odor of bleach over the stronger odor of people working out.

  I walked to the desk with the flyer in hand and asked for John. A girl that didn’t look a lot older than me smiled and pointed me down the hall.

  There was a loud burst of cheers and whoops from the basketball court, and the squeaking of tennis shoes stopped. Apparently, someone had won.

  I poked my head in a room that was cheerfully decorated. About a dozen kids were clustered around two tables, finger painting. I relaxed. Finger-painting I could deal with. A small wiry man with round glasses waved at me as he approached.

  “Are you here to pick someone up?” he asked.

  “No, I came to talk to someone named John. About volunteering. My school councilor gave me this,” I handed him the flyer.

  “Oh, right. Mindy called me earlier and told me to be on the lookout for you. Didn’t think you’d come so quickly, but I’m glad you did. We need all the help we can get. Come on in and have a look around.”

  The painting stopped and little curious eyes followed me around the room. “This program runs five days a week after school. But you can set your own hours as a volunteer. Do you have a job?”

  “I work at Hank’s Diner a few evenings a week.”

  “Ah. I know Hank. Good guy. So, what can I tell you about afterschool art. Monday through Friday three to six. We provide a snack, usually donated cookies or graham crackers or something. We’re trying to get funding to provide dinner as well. It’s a program that serves a lot of kids. It’s free to low income kids. We have a few that pay the fee to come, but not many.” I looked over the children. Having worn their faded shirts and walked in their worn out tennis shoes, I instantly felt sorry for them, knowing what the next several years would be like for them. A little girl with chubby cheeks and thin blond hair caught my eye and I instantly felt drawn to her. Her sweater was too big and she had to push her sleeves up in order not to drag them in the paint. She looked up and smiled. I smiled back. She went back to her work, pushing one sleeve up with frustration and painted with a little frown that creased her eyebrows.

  “Do you have any safety pins?” I asked John.

  “Sure.” He rummaged around his desk and came up with two. I took them and walked over to the little girl. She watched me cautiously and though I should have asked, I simply pulled up her sleeves, pinning them permanently out of the way.

  After studying it for a moment, she looked up and declared, “That’s genius!” I couldn’t stop laughing.

  “When can I start?” I asked, still looking at the little girl.

  Walking home after filling out some paperwork, doing an impromptu interview and spending about an hour getting to know the kids, I felt what might border happiness. Or at least purpose. And that was good enough for now. In just the little bit of time I had spent there, I found that little children were kind and glad for your attention. I already wanted to go back. My mind wandered and ran through a list of possibilities for my life that never occurred to me before and I wondered if maybe I didn’t want to work with kids as a career. I can’t imagine that John made a ton of money as the director, but he looked happy with what he was doing. I could be an art or elementary teacher. An art therapist, even. Suddenly, my options were limitless.

  I was pulled from my thoughts by a noise that took me a moment to identify. I stopped and listened, squinting into the darkness all around me. It stopped too.

  Just my imagination, I assured myself, and started walking again. I heard it again, the sound of light scuffing coming from far behind me. At first, I didn’t see anything in the distance, but slowly the image of a jogger came into view. With a dark grey hoodie up over his head, I couldn’t see his face. He started jogging again and then made a sharp right, turning down a side street.

  “Just a night jogger,” I whispered to myself. Still slightly unnerved, I stopped in a rundown corner store about half way from home.

  “Do you have any mace?” I asked. The clerk nodded, tossed a few on the counter for me to choose from and then took my money. I felt much a little better after that.

  I still had the mace in my hand with the safety off when I stepped inside the trailer. My mother was on the couch sobbing. I couldn’t understand a word she was saying. I rummaged around the kitchen for something to eat. Slim pickings, as usual.

  “Meg, you’ve got to quit that job.” She came in the kitchen and threw a letter at me.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Read the letter, Meg!”

  I picked it up off the cheap linoleum and scanned it.

  She didn’t wait for me to finish.

  “You’re eighteen now, so they’re cuttin’ my benefits! And your wages count against mine, too! What are we gonna do?”

  I shrugged and handed her back the letter. “I’m not quitting.”

  “Yes, you are! I’m not going to lose my money! Either you quit that job or get out of my house!”

  I looked at her with more contempt and disgust than I had ever felt.

  “You’d choose your welfare check over your daughter?”

  “We gotta live, Meagan! How are me and these babies going to get by!”

  “I don’t know. That’s not my problem.”

  “Yes, it is your problem! This is all happening because of you.”

  “I can’t do anything about turning eighteen.”

  “But you can do something about that job that’s cutting into my money even more. We can’t live on what they’re going to cut us to!”

  “Would you stop screaming?” I rubbed my forehead willing away the headache that was coming on.

  “Look. I’m not quitting but I will try to give you whatever they take away because of my wages. If they cut you fifty bucks, I’ll try to replace it.”

  “If you quit school and got the GED-”

  “No. Leave me alone about that. That isn’t happening.”

  “Without that job you could get your own benefits now that you’re eighteen-”

  I cut her off with a hard glare.

  “I’ll give you whatever they cut you off.”

  “I don’t know if that’s gonna be enough, Meggy. I don’t know if we can make it.”

  “Then I’ll leave. Then they won’t penalize you for my pay.”

  She glanced around at the trailer and over Kyle and Kaylie.

  “If you’ll promise to give me what they take away, you can stay.” She said it as if she were doing me some great favor. “Make the kids some dinner, would you? I’ve got a terrible stress headache coming on.”

  She threw the letter in the trash and slammed her bedroom door.

  Chapter 12
r />   One day folded into the next and after a few weeks, life settled into a routine I could live with. I struggled through my day at school, half the time eating with Sam in the library and half the time sitting alone in the gym. I rearranged my hours at Hank’s so that I only worked weekends. It turned out to be more money in tips and I was able to spend four afternoons a week at the community center. I liked being busy.

  That only left one afternoon a week for me to nurse my broken heart. I still missed Jake every moment of every day. I thought it might be easier when he went away for the military. At least then I wouldn’t have to see him in the halls at school, behind the counter at work or jogging home after school.

  He had spoken to me a few times and every time my heart leapt. But his tone and body language told me that nothing had changed. He was only being civil.

  I had no idea if he were still with Suzie. I don’t think I wanted to know.

  I loved my time at the community center. It was free of anything that reminded me of Jake and I had begun to teach the kids some basics in art. One or two of them were really talented. The rest had a lot of fun. I seemed to fit right in and the director and other volunteers seemed to like me.

  I was helping the last of the kids gather their projects at the end of the day, showing them how to roll the larger pictures so they didn’t crease, when John asked me if he could talk to me alone.

  I nodded, saw the last of the kids off with their parents and sat down in his office.

  “Well, It’s been a few weeks, I wanted to know how you’re liking it here with us.”

  “I love it. Working with the kids is great and all the people are really nice.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. I like it when our volunteers are happy. And, I want to tell you that you are doing a fantastic job here. Everyone likes you.”

  “That’s good,” I said.

  “I also wanted to tell you that the community center has just received a large grant. In addition to being able to provide dinner for the children I’ve been awarded the funds for an assistant. I wanted you to be the first to know because I would like you to put in for it when it opens after the first of the year.”