Tomorrow

by Tabitha Cornell

  Kris arrives just before 1:00 p.m. At first, I’m not sure what to think of the guy. He seems a bit sketchy, but after talking to him I think we will get along without any issues. He has a hippy vibe about him. He’s wearing a beanie and smells like incense, definitely someone I wouldn’t hang out with in my everyday life. He looks to be in his mid-twenties. I could be wrong, though.

  He mentions that his girlfriend just kicked him out and he’s hard up for a spot to chill for a while. I told him I’m not looking for a permanent roommate, just for a few months, give or take, to help with expenses and such. I tell him $250 a month will get him half of the apartment and the use of anything he needs—$250 is a steal when you live in downtown shitty Detroit. Since there are no bedrooms, we arrange to hang blankets from the ceiling for privacy. He hands me $500 bucks with the expectation that he will be there for two months. Score! I should have rented out sooner.

  I head to work after he leaves. Kris is planning on moving in tonight. I had to give him my key until I can get another made for him. I’m a little paranoid that the guy is going to steal all my shit in the apartment. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was going to come home to a ransacked room and nothing left of any value. Once my shift was over, I went straight home. When I opened the door, I held my breath, anticipating a disaster to strike.

  I glanced around the room and noticed he didn’t have much for belongings. He had already hung his blankets from the ceiling in the corner and had all his shit stuffed away behind it. I glance across the room to find him sitting on the couch watching the movie Rockstar. One of my favorites! He holds up a Bud Light and motions for me to come over. I already like this guy a lot.

  Things are looking brighter for me today. It’s payday at the diner and having that extra shift on this check made a difference. I took the $500 rent money from Kris and $400 from my paycheck and paid the landlord off. No eviction for this guy! That leaves me with around $200 extra. I take $100 and stash it away for Russ. I want to be able to see him on my next Saturday. The last hundred should buy me some food and pay the electric bill.

  Kris and I get to talking, and I learn this guy is way cooler than I thought. He has traveled all over the States, basically couch surfing. This is the longest he has ever stayed in one place. He said he got into a decent business that pays well, so he’s willing to stick around while the getting is good. I told him a little about my life without getting into too much detail. He knows I’m short on money and have a kid. We mostly talked about sports and how Aaron Rodgers is the greatest quarterback of all time.

  After a few beers, we both turn into chatty Kathys. I tell him how I really need a cell phone because my boss is an asshole and is going to fire me for using the diner phone too much. He complains that his girlfriend kicked him out, so he didn’t get most of his belongings when he left. After a while he stumbles over to his corner, grabs his stuff, and says he’s going to work. At 10:00 p.m? Exactly what type of job does this guy have? I decide not to pry.

  I hop in the shower and attempt to scrub the putrid smell from my body once again. I throw on some decent-looking clothes and head out to meet up with some buddies. Every Friday night a bunch of my friends get together at the Wooden Nickle Saloon and get juiced up. It’s a long two-mile walk in the chilly air, but it’s nice to be out in the world. Since I’ve been broke, I missed the last two Fridays with the guys, so they will be happy to see me, hopefully.

  I find my boys Jason and Jose playing pool with some other guys I don’t know. Jose’s girlfriend is a couple years older and bartends on the weekends, so we are free to come and go as we please.

  No one suspects we aren’t 21, and she likes to get us wasted. She usually slips me a few shots under the table and makes me swear not to tell Jose. I’m pretty sure she has a thing for me. I’m flattered, but she’s not my type. I go with it for the free drinks.

  I jump in on the next game of pool and get my ass handed to me by these guys that Jason apparently knows. I summon Jason out back for a smoke break and proceed to nig one from him.

  “Hey, so who are these guys we been playing pool with, anyway? They made me look like shit in there.”

  “Oh man, these guys are decent. I get my chronic from them. They got the best shit around. You looking?”

  “Nah man, I’m alright. Tight on cash, you know.”

  “Man, they got this Cherry Diesel shit that makes you want to bang for hours. When you finally come, it’s intense as fuck. The lady loves that shit.”

  I laugh at the thought. It does pique my interest, though. I’d buy a taste if I had someone to bang for hours, that’s for sure.

  “You know man, he looking for some guys to unload some shit. If you looking to get some extra funds, I could hit you up. You could always pinch some off the top for your own pleasure, too. No shame in that.”

  He winks at me as he heads toward the men’s room. I’m surprised that Jason has gotten into dealing. He was never that type of person in high school. I think about taking him up on his offer because I do need the cash. I want to be able to pay my child support so I can start seeing Russ on a regular basis. I consider the consequences if I were to get caught with weed on me. I would be fined a hefty bill. I would lose the confiscated product, which I would still have to pay my dealer for. I would have a felony charge on my record. Could be hard to get a job. Then again, it’s already hard to get a job these days, so what’s the difference? If I get caught, would I still be able to see Russ? If Hannah ever found out I was into dealing, she would take Russ away from me forever.

  I already know the answer. It’s no. I shouldn’t be getting into this world of trouble. It’s too messy and I have too much to lose. I put out my cigarette and head back into the bar. I find Jason at the bar getting shots for everyone. I see the many big bills crammed into his wallet. He appears confident and worry free. His demeaner is protective and dominant, everything I am not. I want to be like him. I want people to see me like they see Jason.

  “So how does being a weed dealer work?” I ask.

  Jason turns his head toward me and smiles. He puts his hand on my shoulder and hands me a shot of Jack Daniels. His gestures suggest he is welcoming me into his private world.

  I wake up the next morning and feel great knowing that today is my day off. Except the room is dim, which tells me it’s cloudy, possibly raining today. I roll out of bed and head to the kitchen to moisten my mouth. There is a note and a bag on the table that reads: Your wish is my command. Now you can sext all ur hot bitches.

  I open the bag to find a touchscreen cell phone and an activation card. Seriously? I glance at the blankets hanging in the corner and hear Kris snoring from behind them. Why would he buy me a cell phone? This isn’t a cheap one, either. I take the activation card and the phone and head down the block to the library. Twenty minutes later I have myself a working cell phone and a phone number! It even has unlimited data so I can surf the Internet. I’ve always wanted a cell phone but could never afford one. When I get back to the apartment, Kris is coming out of the bathroom.

  “Hey, I see you got my gift. What do you think?” He is awfully perky for the morning.

  “Yeah, thanks man. What’s the occasion?” I’m still wondering what he wants from me in return.

  “I’ve been thinking about our little chit-chat the other night. I like you, Adam. You seem like you have some struggles and I wanted to help a brother out. You feel me?”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that.” I’m more skeptical now than before. I’m not used to people helping me out. He inches closer to me and sits down at the kitchen table.

  “I am not a person who likes to see people struggle, Adam. After getting to know you better, I feel like I can trust you. I have to ask you something, though. I am looking to branch out into my own business. I want to know if you would be interested in working with me.”

  “Where exactly are you working right now?”

  He hesitates for a moment, then begins to tell me about his �
�business” as he calls it. He has people that contact him wanting certain products. Products like electronics, books, clothes, jewelry—pretty much anything you can pick up at the store. He steals items for these people and sells it to them for less than the store charges. He makes decent money and the people get their stuff for cheaper.

  At first when he tells me this, I am floored. I’m more surprised that he trusts me this much after only a few days of knowing me. I find myself oddly interested by this. Then I start to wonder if I messed up by allowing a thief to live in my apartment with me. I glance around the room and remember that I have an ounce of weed hidden behind my bed. I need to make sure it’s still there. I sit down next to him.

  “Is this cell phone stolen?” I hold out my new, prized phone toward him. Dumb question.

  “Yes.”

  “From where?”

  “A Verizon stand inside the Movie Shack.” He grins like he just got away with something.

  “So, this is going to get traced back to me, and then what?” Now I’m freaking out. I don’t want to be pinned with theft.

  “It won’t. I’m good at what I do. I only take what I need. It’s not like I go into a store and steal all the phones and iPads and DVDs. I steal what I’m requested. Most of the time the stores don’t even pick up on one or two things missing. They think it just got lost somewhere. Last night I picked up a Kindle Fire I saw at a second-hand store. It was marked at $90. I got it for a gal who paid me $50. The night before I picked up three Xbox 360 games for a guy. He would have paid $150 for all three at the store. He gave me $100 for them. How many hours do you have to work at the diner to make $100?”

  This guy is good. Real good. That money sounds tempting. One hundred dollars gets me a visit with my kid. I pull out my new phone and bring up the calculator app: $100 divided by $7.50 equals 13 hours of work. I sit back and think for a moment. I think about the risk. What happens if I get caught? Should I be trusting this guy?

  “How long have you been doing this?”

  “Years. I’ve never had any trouble with the law. Just think about it.” He gets up, grabs his bags, and then heads out the door.

  I get a bad feeling about this. The money sounds so good, though. If I can do it on occasion to make some extra money along with my new weed-selling business, I might be able to get above water. I might be able to live comfortably for once. I want to be able to see Russ regularly. My mind wanders to Russ. I start to think about him getting older and not recognizing me anymore. I can’t let that happen.

  I play around with my new phone and get acquainted with it. I download some apps to try out, and start a Facebook page. Having this cell phone is really going to help me sell this ounce of pot. I decide to add some phone numbers into the contacts list. I look at my list and see Kris added himself to my contacts already. I open up a new message and text him.

  Count me in.

  Words

  Choose them wisely they say.

  Watch what exits or you may regret.

  The meaning behind meaning never fails.

  The twisting and turning between your cords.

  Misconstrue how you must.

  Like what you like.

  You may not agree with the script.

  They can be you, they can ruin you.

  Unleash the fury inside.

  Read between the lines if you dare. If you can bear.

  Watch the release, see the surprise.

  Enlighten me girl, I bleed to know.

  Your thoughts, your nots.

  Suspended in place in the form of bleach.

  Meant to hurt, meant to teach.

  Lost in time, gotten in the way.

  Condemned to Hell or sought to stay.

  Cool and crisp at the tip of your tongue.

  Be my guest.

  What’s the good word?

  Janny

  I wake up to the sun glazing my face. I’m blinded for a second but the heat feels great in this cool room. I swing my arm behind me and touch the bed. I was expecting to feel Sean’s sleeping body next to me, but its only blankets and a puppy curled up close. I check my phone. I’ve got a text from Sean saying his truck delivery came late this morning. He will be staying a couple hours past shift.

  I love that Sean is such a hard worker. He doesn’t let the insane hours of his job get to him. I hate the fact that he is always getting called in to work early or having to stay late. Sometimes I wish he would tell his boss to screw off, but that’s not the type of person he is.

  I really hate being alone in this house all the time. This little puppy will help keep my mind from the loneliness for a while. Boredom always gets the best of me eventually. I lie in bed and wonder what my future holds. I want to marry Sean, but he works so much that he doesn’t have the time to propose to me. On the other hand, he works so much, he should be able to buy me a sizable rock. I feel my lips curl into a slight smile. There it is again, the smile. I like the feeling.

  I lie in bed and think about what I want to do with my life. I don’t want to be stuck in this moment forever, that’s for sure. I want to find a cute little house in the city and have some babies. I want to get a decent job that supports my family. I want to make a career out of something I enjoy, like teaching or photography.

  I picture myself and Sean with our family in our home. Everything is bright and smells like pumpkin caramel. I want that. Nothing more and nothing less. I think about how to get there. I would need to go to college if I wanted a decent career. I would need to see a doctor if I wanted kids. College is out of the question for me. I lack the motivation to commit to a college program. It’s too expensive and I don’t mesh well with other humans. After quitting the pill and not becoming pregnant after a year of trying, I know there is probably something wrong with my woman parts. I’m not ready to open that door yet. I see my imagined life slowly dissipate into the air when I realize it’s never going to happen the way I want. Life never seems to play out the way you envision.

  I look at my phone, 9:04 a.m. Sean should be home any minute. He will be tired from a long night of work. I throw back the covers and decide I’m going to make him breakfast. What man doesn’t like to walk into a house smelling of breakfast after an insanely long shift of working?

  “I’m such a great future wife,” I say to myself as I begin frying up some pork sausage to make gravy. He loves my homemade biscuits and gravy made from scratch.

  I can’t help but notice that I feel like crap this morning. My stomach feels heavy and my face looks bloated. I guess I can blame that on the entire bag of chips I ate last night. The enormous amount of salt I ingested has me feeling swollen all over. A small part of me wonders if maybe it could be pregnancy. My heart flutters with excitement for a brief second. I grab my pee sticks and complete an ovulation test and a pregnancy test to check my prediction. After a looming 5 minute wait, the results are back. Negative.

  I’m getting used to seeing that negative result. Why do I even bother checking anymore? There’s no point in getting upset about it but I can’t help it. I already know the results before I read the sticks but a small part of me remains hopeful. That doesn’t mean it hurts any less when I read the results.

  I remember that I’m supposed to be starting my healthy eating today. I look at the biscuits and half-made gravy and try to come up with a reason that this delicious-smelling breakfast should be on my diet. Fail. I just won’t eat any. I’ll have an apple and cottage cheese. Sean can have the biscuits and gravy. I wish I hadn’t cooked this morning because now I feel deprived of deliciousness.

  I text Sean and sarcastically ask him if I will be seeing him today. I jump in the shower to cleanse myself of all the bullshit I’ve put up with this week. I make a mental note of the errands I need to complete today. I decide to power through my errands right away this morning so I can enjoy the rest of my weekend without interruption. I throw on some comfy clothes and leave a note for Sean, telling him that his breakfast is in the microwave.
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  I stop at the ATM for some much-needed cash, grab some gas for the car, and then head to the laundromat to do a couple loads of laundry. I absolutely despise laundry. If I were to ever miraculously become a millionaire, the first thing I would do is hire a housekeeper to do all my wash. Dream on! I have only a few pieces of clothing that I wear constantly, so I do my laundry more often than most people. I hate the fact that I’m putting my clothes in a washer that has other people’s germs in it. Someday when I buy a house, I will have my own washer and dryer, and this shit will be an errand of the past. On a more positive note, there is a tanning place inside the laundromat, so I take the time to tan my fat, pale body.

  Two hours later I’m back home with fresh laundry. I plan to do some light cleaning around the apartment. Bliss is there to greet me with enthusiasm. I blow her a kiss and tell her she’s cute. As I walk in the door, I notice my note still sitting on the counter. Did he see it when he came home? I sneak over to the bedroom door and crack it open. The bed is still made. Is he seriously still not home?! I swear to God I’m going to call his boss myself and tell him this overtime is insane. How does he expect people to work these hours? He went in early last night at 7:00 p.m. and it’s now 12:30 p.m. the next day! Is that even legal? I call his cell phone. It rings, then goes to voicemail.

  “Hey babe, are you seriously still at work? How are you still even awake? Call me back. I’m worried. Love you. Bye.”

  I check the microwave, and the breakfast I so carefully prepared for Sean still remains inside. My stomach starts to hurt. I think to myself that this is weird, something is wrong. He is never gone this long. He texted me he would be late coming home, but he only said a couple of hours. He almost always answers my calls. After a few minutes, I succumb to my paranoia. I call his work.