Love's Rendition
Part 12
by Tragedy88
E-Mail: Tragedy88@goplay.com
Disclaimers: See
Part 1.
“Doug!”
I yelled. “Doug!”
“What?” He bounded around the corner, that stupid grin on his face, and
halted in his tracks when he saw me.
“What is it, Gracie?”
“How many times have I asked you and
the others not to eat my food?” I asked angrily.
He shrugged and mumbled ‘dunno’.
My hands were clenched around the
container and the bowl I was going to put it in. All day long and no food.
I come home and it’s gone. My
breath came hard between my clenched teeth.
“What am I suppose to do now?”
“Go to the grocery store?” he
replied sarcastically.
“With what money, you fucking
moron? I buy my own food and you eat
it. I can’t afford any more.” Anger swelled, red and hot through my veins
and I was close to shattering.
“Get an advance on your paycheck,
stupid.” He walked away with a shrug.
“I don’t have a job anymore!” I
screamed and threw the ceramic bowl across the room. It shattered against the doorframe, sending fragments into the
hall and down Doug’s back. He whirled
on me.
“What the hell are you doing?”
"Nek ni, you little chraa. All of you!" Startled by the power of my anger I ran from the room, down the
hall and out the door, forgetting my coat along the way.
•••
My
teeth were chattering as I sat on the cold, hard ground under the York
bridge. I thought about going somewhere
else, but where?
Allison.
Her name flashed briefly through my
mind and I saw her tall, trim body and her pale blue eyes.
I swore to myself, then and there,
to never go to her in desperation.
I walked from barrel to barrel,
recognizing old faces, and learning names to go with the new ones. My old, burned out crate was taken and all I
could really think about was my soft bed at the apartment.
So I went back home.
•••
As
I started up the stairs to the loft, I heard something in the kitchen.
"Hey, Gracie," Doug
called.
I hated being called Gracie. "What's up?" I paused on the
fourth step and looked over into the dining area. I suddenly realized everyone was home and gathered in either the
dining area or the living room.
Reluctantly I went back down the stairs and stood awkwardly at the edge
of the living room.
"What's up?" I asked
again.
"We need to talk," Angela
said.
"Okay," I said as I
flopped down in the dark blue recliner.
"Well, um...." Angela looked at the others for
support. "We've been talking and
we think...um...we think that it...." her voice trailed off.
Torch piped up immediately. "We think you should leave."
My eyebrows inched up a notch. "Leave?"
"Yeah, it's not working out,"
Doug said.
I noticed the others shuffling from
foot to foot.
"You threw a bowl at my head,
ate all our food and you don’t have a job anymore," Doug said.
A deep, humiliating ache started in
my chest. "I found this place
first," I replied defensively.
"There are more of us. We voted and decided we want you out."
"Out?" I repeated. "Just like that."
There were some mutterings and some
embarrassed looks. No one would meet my
gaze.
"We'll give you two days to
figure something out, then we change the locks," Doug said.
I have no where to go. "Fine," I said angrily, that ache
in my chest making it hard to breathe.
No one moved as I stood up, then everyone made a mass exodus to their
rooms as I turned and limped up the stairs.
There wasn't much to pack except my laptop, portfolio, art stuff, and a
backpack of threadbare clothes. Cases
tucked under my arms, I left that night.
As I walked down the stairs and out
onto the street my chest tightened and I collapsed on the bus stop bench half a
block down. Two buses came and went,
both drivers giving me dirty looks before I stood up and made my way to the
pawn shop on 83rd.
There I sold my laptop and unused
paints. From experience I knew it
wouldn't be enough.
I got back on the subway and took the
train to the Center.
I'd been at the Center for three
months when I first got to the city.
I'd been there two times since.
It would figure, now that I needed it again, the doors were closed and all
the beds taken. I limped down the
dirty, dimly lit streets till I made it to the park. All the benches were taken.
So, I sat under a tree, my portfolio
clutched tightly against my chest, and cursing myself for not slapping them all
silly.
I watched the sun rise on the next
dreary day in my life.
•••
It
took forever to find a payphone without gum in the ear piece or severed from
the base. When I finally reached
Allison it took everything I had to lie and ask her to send Ed to Shoni's on
13th street, my 'new place of employment.'
But there was still the question of my bags and what to do with them.
Eventually I stowed them at the
train station and pinned the key to the inside of my shirt. Then I made my way over to Shoni’s and
waited for the limo.
Saturday was finally here. And it had only taken a few days before that
to tear my world apart.
•••
(c) 2000, Tragedy88