Big Love

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Big Love Page 6

by Saxon Bennett


  “Being human is a lot harder than it appears,” Zing said. “Sometimes doing the right thing hurts.”

  Nell put her hand on Zing’s forearm and smiled at her. “You’re very sweet, you know that?”

  “I do have a sweet tooth,” Zing said. “Miracle told me that means I like sweet things to eat. Do you think that’s what makes me sweet?”

  Nell laughed. “No. I think you’re sweet just because you are. And I find it refreshing. It’s one of the things I like most about you.”

  “Oh?” Zing said, feeling a rush of warmth to places in her body she’d ever really noticed before. “What else do you like about me?”

  Nell smiled mysteriously, stood on tippy-toe, and kissed Zing on the cheek. Zing’s heart began to race. She felt her face get hot. Her tummy felt funny, too. This wasn’t guilt or fear or any other emotion she’d ever felt before. It felt scary, but she also liked it. In fact, she liked it a lot. It was a lot like the rollercoaster only better.

  Carol walked into the kitchen and grimaced when she saw Nell and Zing standing so close together and gazing into each other’s eyes. “Your face is all red, Zing,” Carol said, taking off her apron and throwing it in the hamper by the door. “Hot flash?”

  “I don’t know what’s happening,” Zing said. “Nell touched my arm and then kissed me. I got hot and my knees are weak and my ears are buzzing.”

  Carol shot Nell a look. Nell quickly took her hand off Zing’s arm.

  “But I like it when you touch me,” Zing said.

  “Yeah, I bet you do,” Carol growled.

  There was a rap on the back door. “That must be Tom,” Nell said in an overly bright voice. She threw open the back door to reveal Homeless Tom. He was talking to Miracle, who was dressed in Wranglers tucked into red cowboy boots, and a Michigan Women’s Music Festival T-shirt was stretched tight over her ample bosom. A big red canvas bag was slung over her shoulder.

  Miracle was saying to Tom, “I know just what you mean, sugar. It’s a loss of dignity and an infringement of your civil rights.”

  “Miracle!” Zing said.

  “It’s not a miracle,” Carol grumbled. “Tom shows up here every damn day.”

  “No. I meant that’s my friend, Miracle,” Zing said.

  “It’s a miracle you have friends,” Carol said.

  “Hi there, Zing!” Miracle said. “I was just talking to Tom while I waited for you to get off work.” She looked at Carol and Nell, saying, “He was just telling me that he wasn’t allowed to ride the bus anymore.”

  “What?” Carol and Nell said at the same time.

  “The Transit Authority is refusing to. . .” Tom put up air quotes with his fingers, “transport known indigents.”

  “You gotta be effin’ kidding me,” Carol said.

  “They said they won’t let him on the bus because he’s not wearing an Armani suit,” Miracle said. “Sounds like a line of bullshit, if you ask me.”

  “Well, let’s get him one of those suits,” Zing said.

  They all looked at Zing, undecided if she was joking or not. Finally, Nell said, “It’s not quite that simple.”

  Miracle said, “You know what? I have a friend who owns his own cab. He gives people-in-need rides. He’s workin’ off a karmic debt. Lemme give you his card.” She rummaged around in her big purse, saying, “I know I got it in here somewhere.” She pulled out a tea saucer and frowned at it. “I was wondering where that got off to.”

  After a bit more digging, Miracle located a crumpled card and handed it to Tom, who straightened it out and carefully stuck it in his shabby vest pocket. He always wore a vest, trousers, hat, and ascot. He even carried a gold-tipped cane like he was a down-on-his-luck gentleman straight out of a Dickens novel. Sometimes he talked like a 19th century gentleman, or depending on the situation, he adopted a Shakespearean lexicon.

  “Now who are you exactly?” Carol asked, looking Miracle up and down, her gaze lingering on Miracle’s curves.

  “I told you. She’s my friend, Miracle,” Zing said. “Miracle, this is Carol. She’s Nell’s crabby friend I told you about.”

  “I’m not crabby,” Carol said, crabbily. “Who said I was crabby?”

  Nell’s smile tightened. She didn’t look at Carol.

  There was an awkward silence until Miracle broke it by saying, “I dropped by to see how Zing’s first day went. And to give her a ride home.”

  “Is Miracle your real name?” Nell asked. She opened the door wider, inviting them inside with a wave of her hand. Miracle stepped in, but Tom politely remained outside.

  “No, that’s just what Zing and Annabelle call me,” Miracle said. “Annabelle is my guardian angel. They call me Miracle because I’ve been known to get a wild hair up my butt and do things that are dangerous. They joke that it’s a miracle I’m still alive. I decided I’m keeping the name now because I’m reinventing myself. I think everyone should be allowed at least one, or…” she swooped her arms wide, “however many reinventions it takes to become your true self.” Her eyes glowed.

  “In other words, you’re as bat-shit crazy as her,” Carol said, jerking her thumb in Zing’s direction.

  Nell slapped Carol’s arm. “Don’t be rude,” she scolded harshly.

  Miracle laughed. “That’s okay. I appreciate a little honesty. Especially when it’s coming from such a pretty lady.”

  Carol was taken aback by the compliment. She was struck speechless.

  “Excuse me. May I have the donuts now?” Tom asked.

  “Oh, sorry,” Zing said. She handed the box to him. “I thought you’d like some ice cream to put on top of the donuts.” She plunked the ice cream container on top of the donut box. “Don’t eat it too fast, though. It’ll freeze your brain.”

  Tom seemed puzzled, but smiled politely. “Thank you, Ma’am. I’ve never had the pleasure of dining on ice cream and donuts, but I’m sure it’s very enjoyable.” He tipped his hat at them, saying, “I best be on my way. I’m meeting my colleagues at the Tenth Street park bench. Good day.” He turned and strode down the alley with his cane tapping out a steady rhythm.

  Zing beamed as she watched him walk away. Giving the donuts to Tom made her feel light and airy inside. She made a silent promise to herself that she would give to those in need more often.

  ***

  When Zing turned back around she caught Miracle staring at Nell’s bald spot.

  “It looks bad, huh?” Zing said.

  “I’ve seen worse,” Miracle said.

  “Really?” Nell asked.

  “No,” Miracle said. “I was just trying to make you feel better.”

  Carol scowled. “You sure have a funny way of showing it.”

  “But we can fix it,” Miracle said. “I have just the friend.”

  “I’m sure you do,” Carol said.

  Miracle didn’t seem to notice the snideness of the remark. “You can come, too. In fact, why don’t we all get our hair cut and styled? It does a body good, and as I’ve discovered, it don’t cost as much as therapy.”

  “I know what’s different about you!” Zing exclaimed to Miracle. “You’ve changed out of your pajamas.”

  “You’re darn tootin’, I did. It was high time I snapped out of it,” Miracle said. “And if I get a new hairdo, I’ll really be over it.”

  Zing explained to the others, “Miracle was a Sad Girl because she got her heart broken by Giselle, who didn’t like her butt, but it was really Rita the Meter Maid that did all the damage. It was awful to see. Miracle watched all these sad movies where people died of cancer and she even dripped ice cream juice on her pajamas and wore them for days on end.”

  “You’re both nuckin’ futs,” Carol said. She turned around and walked to the back of the kitchen. “I’m changing out of my uniform, and then this bus is leaving the building.”

  “If you’re referring to yourself as a bus, that’s a downright falsehood. You have a very nice caboose,” Miracle said.

  Carol spun b
ack around. She was so flustered by the compliment she was momentarily speechless.

  “Aw, c’mon, Carol. Go with us to get our hairs cut. It’ll be fun!” Zing coaxed.

  “I don’t have the time or money for such foolishness,” Carol said. But anybody could tell her heart wasn’t in it.

  “Pshaw! I’m paying,” Miracle said. “This is my treat and I won’t take no for an answer.”

  Carol harrumphed loudly and went into the changing room.

  “I don’t want to go without Carol,” Nell said in a small voice.

  “You’re both going with us,” Miracle ordered. “Now, go get your duds on.”

  “But. . . I don’t. . .” Nell stammered.

  “Listen, Zing wants to make it up to you. It’s part of her karmic journey, and you’ve got to help her do it,” Miracle said.

  “Don’t listen to them! They’re a bunch of New Age freaks!” Carol called out from the changing room.

  Zing put her hands under her chin, raised her eyebrows, and gave Nell her big, sad eyes look, which she had perfected by watching the Puss in Boots movie.

  Nell laughed. “Oh, all right. You talked me into it.”

  “Yes!” Miracle said.

  Nell scurried off to the changing room, saying, “I’ll be right back.”

  “Now, we have to work on Carol,” Miracle whispered to Zing. “I want her to go with us.”

  “Okay,” Zing said. She glanced at the changing room and frowned. “But how are we going to do that?”

  “Just watch this,” Miracle said.

  Those three little words made Zing nervous. She’d heard enough about the “just watch this” moments in Miracle’s life to know that it could lead to disaster. Like that time Miracle said ‘just watch this’ right before drinking a pitcher of margaritas and riding the mechanical bull. She didn’t walk for a solid week after that one. Zing sincerely hoped this wasn’t one of those times.

  “You know, Carol,” Miracle called out, “If you don’t go with us, Zing will need you to sign a waiver that states she cannot be held responsible for Nell’s safety. You know what happened last time Zing was supposed to be watching her.”

  Zing hung her head and said, “Do you have to keep bringing that up?”

  Miracle slung her arm over Zing’s shoulders. “I had to use it. It wasn’t really your fault. It was that Dove person’s fault for texting her while she was walking.”

  “I still feel bad. I should’ve been paying more attention. It’s not easy being a guardian angel with ADD.”

  “Hell’s bells, honey, what’s done is done. You’re remedying the situation and that’s what counts,” Miracle said.

  Carol came out of the changing room wearing a pair of faded Levis, a black T-shirt and black combat boots. “What’d you say about signing something?”

  “Oooh, don’t you clean up nice,” Miracle said, her voice low and flirty.

  Carol rolled her eyes, but the blush creeping up her neck showed exactly how pleased she was by Miracle’s compliment.

  “I think you should come along for Nell’s moral support. Stop fussing and just do it. You know you’re not letting her go with us unless you can supervise. So, get that cute li’l butt of yours in gear and say you’ll go with us,” Miracle said.

  Carol’s mouth dropped open.

  “Close your mouth, sugar. You’re gonna catch flies that way,” Miracle said.

  At that moment, Nell came out of the changing room. She wore a pretty yellow sundress with tiny white flowers and strappy sandals.

  “You clean up nice, too,” Zing said. Miracle laughed, and Zing, realizing that maybe she shouldn’t have said that, covered her mouth.

  Nell smiled at her. “Thank you, Zing.”

  Carol grabbed Nell by the elbow and pulled her out the back door. “Let’s go get this over with,” she said without much conviction.

  ***

  Sammy’s Fabulous Salon was within walking distance of the bakery. Everything in the Wentworth district was within walking distance, which was the appeal. It was also why, despite the high rent, Nell and Carol had put the bakery in the center of it. Sammy’s Fabulous Salon was decorated in hot pink with zebra print accents, played a loop of famous diva songs, and was filled with every sort of woman. Sammy was dressed in a one-piece zebra-print Lycra suit and high heeled shoes that put Elton John, during his Crocodile Rock stage, to shame. The heels were made from clear acrylic and had tiny zebras inside.

  The door dinged as the four women walked inside. Sammy was finishing back-combing a woman’s hair into a high beehive. He added a blast of hair spray to keep it all in place. When he saw Miracle, he clasped his hands to both cheeks and squealed with pleasure. “Honey, where have you been?” he asked. “It’s been ages!”

  He ran over to Miracle and grabbed her in a big hug, nosily planting smooches on both cheeks. Then he held her at arm’s length and tsk-tsked. “Girlfriend, you look like something the cat dragged in and puked up and then the dog ate,” he said.

  “I know, I know. I’m a big ol’ mess. Can you help me and my friends here?”

  He transferred his gaze to the other three women. Nell shook under his direct scrutiny.

  “Oh, baby, I know I’m absolutely fabulous, but you’re the first client to actually quiver in my presence.” Then he noticed her bald spot. “And my first client to have a half-shaved head and stitches.”

  Sammy walked a tight circle around Nell, looking at every inch of her head. He squinted one eye and tapped his chin with his index finger while muttering, “Oh my. Oh my.” He studied her from various angles, putting his fingers together as if framing her in a picture. Finally, he stopped, took a deep breath and proclaimed, “I think I can fix it.”

  Nell breathed a long sigh of relief. “Really?”

  Sammy smiled. “Yes indeedy, girlfriend. With that gorgeous face, I know exactly what I’m going to do.”

  Zing beamed and clapped her hands in joy. Nell’s hair could be fixed! She felt so much better.

  Sammy noticed Zing for the first time. “Oh, my lord, you have the most gorgeous ginger hair.” He touched her hair, rubbing a long lock between his fingers. “However, it could use a trim and a hot oil treatment.”

  Next, he looked at Carol and raised one eyebrow. “Definitely, a whole new look for you. This grim reaper thing you have going on is much too severe. You have cheek bones to die for, and you need a cut that accentuates them.”

  He turned to Miracle and studied her. “Oh, darling, are you still pining for Rita the Meter Maid?”

  “I’m over it, thanks to my new friend, Zing.” Miracle looped her arm through Zing’s. “She’s an angel.”

  “I’ll say she is,” Sammy said. “And what a cute name. Zing! I like it.” He ran his fingers through Miracle’s frizzy hair. “Your hair is sad, girlfriend. You definitely need the works. You showed up right on time, too.”

  “Does that mean you can squeeze us in?” Miracle asked.

  “Of course, darling. For you, anything. Let me finish Barb’s hair and I’ll be right with you,” he said before sashaying away.

  Zing surveyed the room. Her eyes settled on a short, handsome butch woman who was seated across the room. Her hair was cropped and gelled into ten-inch spikes and made her seem much taller than she was. Zing was impressed. She slipped into a chair next to the butch, invading her personal bubble for a close-up look at her hair.

  The butch looked at Zing out of the corner of her eye. “Whassup?”

  “You have the pokiest hair. I love it,” Zing said. “You’re like a bull with horns. No, wait! You’re like a unicorn. Except instead of only one horn, you have a whole bunch of horns. I guess that would make you a multi-corn. Why do they call it a unicorn anyway? Why don’t they call it a unihorn? Can I touch your hair?”

  “Baby, you can touch anything on me you want,” the butch said.

  Zing tentatively patted the butch’s spikes then quickly drew her hand back. “Ouch.”

  The bu
tch leered at Zing’s body, saying out the side of her mouth, “We should get together and I can show you more things than my hair.”

  “Okay, that sounds nice,” Zing said. “Maybe we could go have ice cream. It’s my favorite. Do you like ice cream?”

  “Sure, babe. I love it.”

  “Great,” Zing said, enthusiastically. She looked back across the room at Miracle and said loudly, “Hey, guess what? She likes ice cream, too! Small world, huh?”

  “Here, give me your hand,” the butch said.

  Zing obliged, still admiring the butch’s hair and thinking about ice cream. The butch pulled a pen from her pocket and wrote her phone number on the back of Zing’s hand. Zing looked down at the number.

  “Call me anytime, babe,” the butch said. “I’ll show you some other pokey—”

  Nell was up and out of her chair and across the room in a flash. She yanked Zing away before the butch could even finish her sentence. Nell pulled Zing back across the room, saying under her breath, “Stay away from that type, Zing.”

  “What type?” Zing asked.

  “The type that picks up lonely women in beauty shops.”

  “Day or night!” the butch called out. She made the ‘call me’ signal to Zing.

  Nell sat down in an empty chair, pulling Zing into the chair beside her. Nell handed Zing a magazine, saying, “Here. You can read this while we wait our turn.”

  Zing glanced at the cover of the magazine and gasped. “I didn’t know cats were aliens.” She scanned the article then said, “It all makes sense now doesn’t it? So, what do you think. . . ?Are the aliens wearing cat suits or do the aliens look like cats to begin with?”

  Nell laughed. “You’re so funny.”

  “Thank you,” Zing said.

  Carol leaned over to Miracle and whispered, “Your friend over there is a little nutso.”

  “She’s not nutso,” Miracle said back. “She’s new to earth. She’s a guardian angel and after a while, she’ll get used to how things work down here on earth.”

 

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