Post by amylou on Jun 27, 2011 14:49:33 GMT -5
Hey, some of you may have seen this on another site, I'm not trying to post everywhere, just interested in - someone named Martin's - opinion on this piece. Have you seen him? 
But anyone please feel free to critique or ignore. Thanks
I spend my days stocking shelves with generic cereal and toilet bowl cleaner, among other stuff you can get at the Hollar Dollar. It's boring. And the customers, somehow they're confused.
"How much is this?" I get asked at least once a day.
"A dollar."
"And this?"
"Dollar."
"Even this?"
"Everything's a f**kin' dollar." I mumble.
The cashier next to me snatches my arm and puts her mouth to my ear. I hate our registers bein' side by side.
"January Cheyenne, you watch your mouth before I fire your ass!"
My first name is the month I was born, but Cheyenne, well I'm not real sure.
"Yes mam." I say, then try and speak real nice to the customer.
"Um, everything in this store costs a dollar."
Momma's the manager and the one snatching my arm. I'm proud of her 'cause she runs the whole store. And there ain't no way she's gonna fire me. It's one of the only jobs I can get.
Got kicked out of school, and I ain't going back. Momma don't believe I was just keeping something safe for a friend. She thinks I was gonna smoke it, but I got no interest in drugs, just the people doing em. They accept me.
Momma lost her mind and started letting Ricky make rules. We had none before he showed up. But she's always doing that sort of thing; changing our life for a man. Just happy having one come around I suppose. I won't be that way.
Ricky tried putting a curfew on me and wanted rent if I was gonna stay out of school. So, that left me with one choice, move in with Tommy. He stays high, so we're perfect together.
The store's dead on Wednesdays. Me and momma stand outside for a smoke. She wraps her lips around a cigarette and works on sucking it down to a nub. I ain't never tried it, don't want to.
"How you and Tommy?" She asks.
"Fine."
"He got a job yet?"
"No."
"Out lookin'?"
"Guess so."
"He sure as hell needs to be." She says before taking another puff.
I look away 'cause I'm so Goddamn sick of watching her make love to those things.
The day is hotter than a crotch and I'm wearing jeans, and a sweater set that don't fit my taste. It was charity. Someone feeling sorry for me.
The interstate across the parking lot is busy, cars flying by. Sounds like a million cicadas out there, the buzzing don't never stop. Enough to drive you crazy.
"I don't like you living with him. He's too old for you, and don't do shit all day." Momma starts in.
"He's got money, and his trailer's paid for."
"Only 'cause of that accident. ---- Son of a bitch gonna waste it on drugs and booze.
"Told you he don't do that stuff."
I focus on the cars again because her lips tightening up like rubber bands, gives me stress. And where'r all those people in them cars going anyway? How come I ain't got nowhere important to be like they do?
"Well, a man still need a job, give him somethin' to be proud of."
What about all them men she brought home with no job and no money? Did she forget about them?
Bravery sets in. I face her tight lips and judging stare.
"I said he's lookin', Momma. He's good to me. Wouldn't be with him if he weren't. Thinks I should get my GED. Said he'd even pay for it and drive me there."
"Ain't he got nothin' better to do all day? And when you gonna do it? You work here."
"They got night classes. Thought you'd be happy?"
"I am, but you don't need his help."
I wanna say, ain't nobody else helping me. Instead I keep quiet, and notice how the nail on my big toe is pushing against the top of my shoe.
"Come on back home, go to school with your friends. That's where you belong." She talks through smoky breath seeping out like blood.
"Don't want to."
"Cause of Ricky?"
"He don't want me around."
"That ain't true, loves you like you was his own."
Nothin' against Ricky, but it's clear he and momma have a life now. Besides, I don't need no daddy. Got one that drops by every couple years even though he staying in the next town over.
"Tommy and I get along, and I'm happy there. I love him."
"Girl you're dumber than I thought, only knowned him a month. Where'd you meet?"
"I told you, Coyote Joe's."
Next I'll be hearing about my daddy.
"I see it's still attracting the same selfish assholes. You know, that's where I met your daddy?"
"Yeah, I know."
"Bought me my first wine cooler, Strawberry Daiquiri."
I amuse her 'cause I know how happy it makes her to tell the story.
"Saw me standin' there, cowboy hat on, wearin' my favorite boots and cutoff shorts up to here."
She draws a line just under her ass with the hand holding her cigarette. Ashes drift to the pavement, her frizzy hair soaks up the rising smoke.
"Back then I had a figure like yours. He walks over and says, 'Let's run away together.' I thought he was gorgeous, with baby blues. You got his eyes."
She gazes at me hoping to see him. And even though I could tell the story myself, I gaze at her trying to see the girl drinking her first wine cooler about to make the biggest mistake of her life.
"And Goddamn it, I ran away with that bastard. Nine months later, I was alone with a baby and a figure that'd gone to shit. Tried like hell to tame him, too wild I suppose. Son of a bitch, ain't settled down yet."
Her eyes drift down the highway in the direction of his town.
"I'm sorry, Momma. I know he hurt you. But you ain't gotta worry about me ending up like that, Tommy's different, and, I ain't having no baby. I got plans."
"You do, huh?" She's laughs. Thinks I'm joking.
"Yeah, I do."
"Well, don't come around cryin' when your plans turn to supportin' his lazy ass or him leavin' 'cause you are havin' his baby. I'm tellin' ya Cheyenne, he ain't no good. Been with enough bullshitters to smell one a mile away."
Now that she's with a good man, spotting bullshit is her expertise? That's bullshit. Between her nagging and the buzzing interstate, I'm irritated. And these cramps coming on ain't helping.
"I'm going inside."
I know her heart's in the right place; worried about me at seventeen, having a baby like she done, with no help from a man. But a broken heart is the only thing we share. I got dreams to chase soon as I know where I'm going and how I'm getting there. I'll be just like those people flyin' down the highway with somewhere more important to be. Did momma ever think of running? Something tells me she did.
She drops me off in the same spot as this morning, in front of the double wide Tommy inherited. I never invite her in 'cause I know he's high.
"Thanks for the ride."
I climb out of the 93 civic that was once the nicest thing we ever owned, thanks to Papaw. Today it tells the story of growing up in this town (name) . Dings, dents, scratches, and faded patches from being cast aside.
"I'll pick you up tomorrow at eight. Gotta clean Mrs. Whitehead's. Your ass better be ready. You understand?" She reminds me through a rolled down window.
"Yeah. Love you, mom."
"You too."
I do love her, she's all I got.
With my eyes closed, I stand and listen to her drive away, soaking up my favorite sound in the whole world. Rubber tires popping against gravel and the ping of little rocks escaping the pressure, clanking against the metal. I feel like those little rocks. And one day I'm gonna rebel against those tires and escape. I might hit some metal, but at least I'll be out from under burning rubber. Not sure why, but I crave that noise.
But anyone please feel free to critique or ignore. ThanksI spend my days stocking shelves with generic cereal and toilet bowl cleaner, among other stuff you can get at the Hollar Dollar. It's boring. And the customers, somehow they're confused.
"How much is this?" I get asked at least once a day.
"A dollar."
"And this?"
"Dollar."
"Even this?"
"Everything's a f**kin' dollar." I mumble.
The cashier next to me snatches my arm and puts her mouth to my ear. I hate our registers bein' side by side.
"January Cheyenne, you watch your mouth before I fire your ass!"
My first name is the month I was born, but Cheyenne, well I'm not real sure.
"Yes mam." I say, then try and speak real nice to the customer.
"Um, everything in this store costs a dollar."
Momma's the manager and the one snatching my arm. I'm proud of her 'cause she runs the whole store. And there ain't no way she's gonna fire me. It's one of the only jobs I can get.
Got kicked out of school, and I ain't going back. Momma don't believe I was just keeping something safe for a friend. She thinks I was gonna smoke it, but I got no interest in drugs, just the people doing em. They accept me.
Momma lost her mind and started letting Ricky make rules. We had none before he showed up. But she's always doing that sort of thing; changing our life for a man. Just happy having one come around I suppose. I won't be that way.
Ricky tried putting a curfew on me and wanted rent if I was gonna stay out of school. So, that left me with one choice, move in with Tommy. He stays high, so we're perfect together.
The store's dead on Wednesdays. Me and momma stand outside for a smoke. She wraps her lips around a cigarette and works on sucking it down to a nub. I ain't never tried it, don't want to.
"How you and Tommy?" She asks.
"Fine."
"He got a job yet?"
"No."
"Out lookin'?"
"Guess so."
"He sure as hell needs to be." She says before taking another puff.
I look away 'cause I'm so Goddamn sick of watching her make love to those things.
The day is hotter than a crotch and I'm wearing jeans, and a sweater set that don't fit my taste. It was charity. Someone feeling sorry for me.
The interstate across the parking lot is busy, cars flying by. Sounds like a million cicadas out there, the buzzing don't never stop. Enough to drive you crazy.
"I don't like you living with him. He's too old for you, and don't do shit all day." Momma starts in.
"He's got money, and his trailer's paid for."
"Only 'cause of that accident. ---- Son of a bitch gonna waste it on drugs and booze.
"Told you he don't do that stuff."
I focus on the cars again because her lips tightening up like rubber bands, gives me stress. And where'r all those people in them cars going anyway? How come I ain't got nowhere important to be like they do?
"Well, a man still need a job, give him somethin' to be proud of."
What about all them men she brought home with no job and no money? Did she forget about them?
Bravery sets in. I face her tight lips and judging stare.
"I said he's lookin', Momma. He's good to me. Wouldn't be with him if he weren't. Thinks I should get my GED. Said he'd even pay for it and drive me there."
"Ain't he got nothin' better to do all day? And when you gonna do it? You work here."
"They got night classes. Thought you'd be happy?"
"I am, but you don't need his help."
I wanna say, ain't nobody else helping me. Instead I keep quiet, and notice how the nail on my big toe is pushing against the top of my shoe.
"Come on back home, go to school with your friends. That's where you belong." She talks through smoky breath seeping out like blood.
"Don't want to."
"Cause of Ricky?"
"He don't want me around."
"That ain't true, loves you like you was his own."
Nothin' against Ricky, but it's clear he and momma have a life now. Besides, I don't need no daddy. Got one that drops by every couple years even though he staying in the next town over.
"Tommy and I get along, and I'm happy there. I love him."
"Girl you're dumber than I thought, only knowned him a month. Where'd you meet?"
"I told you, Coyote Joe's."
Next I'll be hearing about my daddy.
"I see it's still attracting the same selfish assholes. You know, that's where I met your daddy?"
"Yeah, I know."
"Bought me my first wine cooler, Strawberry Daiquiri."
I amuse her 'cause I know how happy it makes her to tell the story.
"Saw me standin' there, cowboy hat on, wearin' my favorite boots and cutoff shorts up to here."
She draws a line just under her ass with the hand holding her cigarette. Ashes drift to the pavement, her frizzy hair soaks up the rising smoke.
"Back then I had a figure like yours. He walks over and says, 'Let's run away together.' I thought he was gorgeous, with baby blues. You got his eyes."
She gazes at me hoping to see him. And even though I could tell the story myself, I gaze at her trying to see the girl drinking her first wine cooler about to make the biggest mistake of her life.
"And Goddamn it, I ran away with that bastard. Nine months later, I was alone with a baby and a figure that'd gone to shit. Tried like hell to tame him, too wild I suppose. Son of a bitch, ain't settled down yet."
Her eyes drift down the highway in the direction of his town.
"I'm sorry, Momma. I know he hurt you. But you ain't gotta worry about me ending up like that, Tommy's different, and, I ain't having no baby. I got plans."
"You do, huh?" She's laughs. Thinks I'm joking.
"Yeah, I do."
"Well, don't come around cryin' when your plans turn to supportin' his lazy ass or him leavin' 'cause you are havin' his baby. I'm tellin' ya Cheyenne, he ain't no good. Been with enough bullshitters to smell one a mile away."
Now that she's with a good man, spotting bullshit is her expertise? That's bullshit. Between her nagging and the buzzing interstate, I'm irritated. And these cramps coming on ain't helping.
"I'm going inside."
I know her heart's in the right place; worried about me at seventeen, having a baby like she done, with no help from a man. But a broken heart is the only thing we share. I got dreams to chase soon as I know where I'm going and how I'm getting there. I'll be just like those people flyin' down the highway with somewhere more important to be. Did momma ever think of running? Something tells me she did.
She drops me off in the same spot as this morning, in front of the double wide Tommy inherited. I never invite her in 'cause I know he's high.
"Thanks for the ride."
I climb out of the 93 civic that was once the nicest thing we ever owned, thanks to Papaw. Today it tells the story of growing up in this town (name) . Dings, dents, scratches, and faded patches from being cast aside.
"I'll pick you up tomorrow at eight. Gotta clean Mrs. Whitehead's. Your ass better be ready. You understand?" She reminds me through a rolled down window.
"Yeah. Love you, mom."
"You too."
I do love her, she's all I got.
With my eyes closed, I stand and listen to her drive away, soaking up my favorite sound in the whole world. Rubber tires popping against gravel and the ping of little rocks escaping the pressure, clanking against the metal. I feel like those little rocks. And one day I'm gonna rebel against those tires and escape. I might hit some metal, but at least I'll be out from under burning rubber. Not sure why, but I crave that noise.
)