This Keeps Happening

by H. B. Hogan

  “No way!” Kerri said. “Anyone could come and take them. And then what?”

  Jo sighed, and they walked on in silence for a moment or two.

  Jo sized up Kerri’s eyelids, puffy and red behind their bright blue armour of makeup, and asked, “So what’d yer mom have to say when you called her?”

  “Nothing much,” mumbled Kerri. “Mostly she just cried and stuff.”

  “Think you can get her to admit your dad kicked you out?”

  Kerri shrugged. The empties clinked.

  “No way you’ll get welfare if she doesn’t,” Jo said ominously, shaking her head.

  “We’re high school drop-outs, Jo,” snapped Kerri. “Neither one of us is gettin’ anything.”

  Jo sucked in the sides of her mouth and raised her eyebrow, but didn’t say anything more.

  They walked on. At one intersection they paused to pull the bottoms of their shirts up and out through their neck holes, creating makeshift bikini tops and exposing their hard, teenaged bellies to the downtown traffic. Jo had twisted her long dark hair up on top of her head and stabbed a twig through it to hold it in place. Occasionally, a passing car would honk.

  “So,” Jo continued, trying to mask the drudgery of their task with small talk, “how come Paula’s dad doesn’t live there with her?”

  “He has a girlfriend,” said Kerri. “He lives in her trailer with her.”

  “And he just comes around on welfare day to give Paula money?” asked Jo, incredulous.

  “Yup.”

  “She’s fuckin’ lucky.”

  “No kidding, eh?”

  “Does Paula know her mom?”

  “Yeah, she grew up with her mom, but her mom’s crazy. When Paula told her she was pregnant, her mom told her to get rid of it, and then she, like, gave her a black eye, so Paula left.”

  “Huh,” said Jo, mulling it all over. “Doesn’t her dad hit her?”

  “Sometimes, but I guess it isn’t so bad since he’s never around. Besides, now that she’s preggers, he won’t lay a hand on her.”

  The girls stopped and put down their beer cases. They walked round the front of the cases to switch sides. They paused, squinting at the sun and kicking at the dirt until their fingers stopped screaming.

  Jo said, “I’m fuckin’ dyin’ for a smoke.”

  Kerri bent down, slid the edges of the beer case handles into the deep grooves on her fingers, and said, “You ready?”

  Jo nodded, and they picked up the cases and resumed their slow, lopsided gait.

  “So how’d you meet Paula, anyway?” asked Jo.

  “Home Ec,” said Kerri.

  The girls were taking a break in the shade of a rusted billboard frame. Behind them, the broken concrete of an empty parking lot gave way to anemic crabgrass and dirt. At the far end of the lot, the brick wall of a defunct car wash read, “We’ll Make You Shine.”

  They sat on their beer cases, flipping the bird at any cars that honked.

  Kerri found a dry, yellowed cigarette butt in the gutter beside them. It still had a couple hauls’ worth of tobacco in it, so she ripped off the filter, stuck the torn end in her mouth, and held Dean’s Zippo against the burnt end. Jo’s eyebrows twitched when she saw the lighter, but she said nothing. Kerri snapped the Zippo shut with a flick of her wrist and handed it to Jo, who tucked it into her pocket and let her hand linger briefly over its shape beneath her jeans.

  Kerri puffed gingerly, squinting as bits of loose tobacco caught light and flew up in the breeze. She said, “This one day in class? Ms. Bayner was holding up these kitchen utensils, okay? And she was all, ‘What’s this one was for?’” Kerri paused to hold the cigarette out to Jo, and with her other hand pulled a strand of tobacco from her tongue.

  “She held up this thing we’d bought my mom for Christmas. Each year we fill her stocking with, like, kitchen stuff, even though it makes her mad. My dad’s just like, whatever.”

  “Prick,” said Jo.

  “So anyway, I was like, ‘That’s a potato masher!’ and Ms. Bayner like, laughs, and then everyone laughs. Ms. Bayner was all, ‘Well, that’s very creative, Kerri, but what’s it really for?’ and everyone else was, you know, giggling and shit.”

  “Bitches,” Jo said.

  “Totally.” Kerri nodded. “But Paula never laughed. She just sat there and, like, looked at me, or whatever. We started hanging out after that. I felt bad for thinking she was trash at first. She’s not so bad once you know her.”

  “Sure,” said Jo, though she didn’t sound convinced.

  They sat for a while longer, and then Jo asked, “So what was that thing, anyway?”

  Kerri rolled her eyes. “I can’t remember what it’s called. But it’s, like, this metal circle with a plastic handle on one part of it, and slits on the other. For making pastry or whatever.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. As if I’ll ever be making pastry for some fat fuck. Why am I gettin’ graded on this?”

  Jo laughed. “Ladyfriend, if that ever happens, you call me pronto, ’cause that is something I’d pay money to see.”

  Kerri smirked and spat in the gutter.

  It took them another hour of walking to reach the Beer Store. Jo spent the last half hour near tears, but Kerri ignored her and kept her eyes locked on the friendly orange sign that hovered like a second sun above the distant rooftops. Once they’d heaved their cases up onto the metal conveyor belt, Kerri went outside and sat on the yellow curbstone in the parking lot. Jo stayed inside with the empties, sighing theatrically while she waited for the beer guys to stop ignoring her.

  Kerri hummed to herself and smiled up into the sun. Her fingers were still throbbing and she couldn’t raise her arms without considerable effort, but they’d made it, and now they were going to have some money. Money for food and smokes and the bus. Money they had earned, and could spend on whatever they damn well pleased.

  It felt good thinking about what she might like to do. She could smell the lake on the breeze, and she thought maybe later, when they were done scavenging for more bottles, she and Jo could get down to the waterfront and still be back before sundown. Maybe even have an ice cream while they were at it. Kerri hadn’t dared to think this way when she was living at home because her days at home had all been the same. Tightness in her chest and throat. Sitting still in her bedroom with the door closed, tracking her dad’s every movement in the house. What room was he in? Had he just sighed? Was he mad? Was he coming?

  But she didn’t live there anymore, and better yet, her dad didn’t know where she was. She was free. Sitting there in the sunny Beer Store parking lot, faced with the unknown possibilities of an afternoon that was hers to fill as she pleased, Kerri felt a surge of something big and bright and endless fill her up till she thought she might burst wide open right there on the concrete. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, surprised to feel herself on the verge of tears.

  “Goddamn!” hollered Jo as she sailed out through the sliding glass doors, trying unsuccessfully to raise her trembling arms above her head in triumph. “We got six fuckin’ dollars!”

  “No way,” laughed Kerri. She turned her face away from Jo, blinked back her tears, and swallowed hard. “Didn’t he check for BT holes?”

  “Obviously not.” Jo extended her hand down to Kerri. “Today is our lucky day.” She pulled Kerri up to her feet.

  “No kidding,” said Kerri. She brushed the dust from her bum.

  Jo was snapping her fingers and skipping towards the sidewalk. “So now what, ladyfriend?” she called over her shoulder.

  “Well,” said Kerri, holding her lower back and pushing her belly out front of her in a stretch, “I think we should do like Paula said and check people’s yards and shit for more empties.”

  “Fuck that,” said Jo. “Let’s get smokes.”

  “Who’s gonna buy them for us?”

  Jo pulled the twig out of her hair and struck a pose. “Bitch, who wouldn’t buy them for us?”

&n
bsp; Buying cigarettes downtown turned out to be hard. At school, there was always a senior who would buy you a pack if you let them keep a few cigarettes from your pack as a fee. But downtown in the middle of the day, the adults turned stone-faced as soon as Jo or Kerri approached them. After an hour or so of wandering they finally got lucky with a sad-eyed woman who said she used to be just like them. Kerri and Jo had laughed about that as they headed for Kinsmen Park.

  “As if,” said Jo. “Did you see that hag? She was never like us.”

  “Her nic stains were practically brown,” said Kerri, looking nervously at the first two fingers of her right hand.

  “You can rub lemon on them. Your fingers. My mom read it in her Chatelaine.”

  Kerri looked up at Jo. “You think that’ll save us?”

  “From what? Being a fuckin’ Debbie Downer? No, that’s totally your future. But at least your fingers won’t look like hers.”

  Kinsmen Park was part of a green valley that cut through the whole city, top to bottom, with a creek in the middle that ran through culverts and under bridges until it emptied into Lake Ontario. Kerri used to crane her neck to catch a glimpse of it on the bus ride to her high school.

  “Hey, let’s go down to the creek,” said Kerri. “There’s probably a few empties down there—we can get some more coin.”

  “No way,” said Jo. “See that tree?” She pointed up at the crest of the eastern side of the valley, where a line of trees marked the edge of the park. “That tree has our name on it. Last one there gets a punch in the arm.”

  Kerri laughed as she watched Jo run the first few feet up the hill and then pretend to have a heart attack.

  “Who’s the Debbie Downer now?” shouted Kerri as she sprinted past Jo’s corpse. Kerri didn’t look back, but she could hear Jo laughing and swearing behind her as they pseudo-raced up the hill.

  When they reached the top, gasping and coughing and spitting, they sprawled out on their backs beneath a maple tree. Jo lit two Dunhills and passed one to Kerri. “You juiced it,” Kerri said, wrinkling her nose at the soggy filter.

  “Ahhhh, it doesn’t get any better than this,” sighed Jo, ignoring her.

  “No shit,” agreed Kerri, her face turned up to watch the leaves above her flit from green to silver and back again in the sun. “This is livin’.”

  “Miller time,” aped Jo, and Kerri snickered.

  They smoked in contented silence and watched a man down in the park playing fetch with his orange dog.

  “Think you’ll go back to school one day?” asked Jo.

  Kerri pulled thoughtfully at her smoke and exhaled with a sigh. She didn’t really give a shit, but she knew Jo was worried about it. Jo’s older brother had said they were making a big mistake by dropping out like he had done. Now he stole cars for people who wanted to scam their insurance.

  “Probably,” Kerri said eventually. “Maybe when I’m older and I got nothin’ better to do. While I’m young I just want to, like, live. You know?” She looked over at Jo. Jo was nodding.

  The dog had climbed partway up the hill toward them and was walking in tight, frantic circles. The man put his hands in his pockets and waited.

  Jo said, “This is so awesome. Dean and those guys are idiots, eh? They totally shoulda just come with us instead of fucking around at the arcade.” Kerri didn’t really mind their absence, but agreed anyway.

  Jo said, “Dean and I are totally gonna get married. I can just tell. Can’t you just tell?” She looked brightly at Kerri. When Jo’s parents had divorced, her mom had drawn the blinds in the living room and collapsed on the couch with a migraine. She’d been there every day since, and that was three years ago. Kerri had met Jo’s mom. Her face was just as washed out as Paula’s crummy old nightgown.

  “Married,” said Jo, watching as the dog finished up its business and then galloped in a long, wide arc towards its master. “You think he’s gonna stay out of jail long enough to get married?”

  “Totally,” said Jo. “He’s got my brother to show him how it’s done. They’re gonna make a killing. Hey,” Jo said, hitting Kerri’s leg with the back of her hand. “What about you? Think you’ll get hitched one day?”

  Kerri thought about her parents. They’d stayed together for reasons that were beyond Kerri, as they obviously hated each other. She suspected their miserable marriage persisted because of her.

  “Doubt it,” said Kerri.

  “Really? Not even if you’re in love with someone?”

  Kerri chewed on her lip and scowled at the grass, deep in thought. “Nah,” she finally said.

  Jo looked at her with disbelief and then looked away. “Huh,” she said, under her breath.

  Kerri frowned. “Well, I don’t know…Fuck,” she said.

  “Being in love is the shit, Kerri. You’ll understand more when it happens to you.”

  “Well, you didn’t ask me about love, did you, Jo? You asked if I was gonna get married. They got nothin’ to do with each other.”

  Jo was suddenly furious. “Marriage is love, Kerri! You just think that way because of your parents! You shouldn’t let them fuck it all up for you like that.”

  “Well, tell me, Jo. Didn’t your parents love each other when they swore in front of God and everyone that they’d stay together no matter what?”

  “Shut up.”

  “Wasn’t that love, Jo? D’you think they knew they were gonna wind up all pissed off and divorced when they were in love?”

  “Fuck you!” yelled Jo, with enough force to echo off the field below. The man and the dog both looked up at them.

  Kerri lowered her head and focused on digging a little hole in the dirt beside her with her fingernail.

  After a while, Jo muttered, looking straight ahead, “This is different. Me and Dean.”

  AFTER

  The streetlights were flickering as Kerri and Jo walked arm in arm up the street towards Paula’s. They were singing, “Tangerine, Tangerine…” in melodramatic nasal voices. When they turned up the walkway, Kerri stopped singing but Jo continued, “Living reflect-shu-huns, from a dream…” Kerri shushed her and punched her on the arm.

  “Hey! What’s yer damage all of the sudden?” whined Jo, rubbing her shoulder.

  “I dunno,” said Kerri, who’d stopped halfway up the walk and was staring up at the house. “Just, what if he’s still in there?” She jutted her chin up at the darkened windows and tried to cram her hands into her pockets. They wouldn’t go, because her jeans were too tight, so she crossed her arms in front of her instead.

  “Who?” asked Jo.

  “Paula’s dad.” Kerri and Paula both acted tough in their own way, but both knew what it was like to feel terrorized and helpless. Jo didn’t know; she just had an older brother who adored her.

  “Well then,” Jo said. “We’ll just ask ol’ Daddy Warbucks for some of his fine cash moneys! Besides,” she continued, bouncing up the porch steps while Kerri hung back, “we’re just a couple of Paula’s friends dropping by to see if she wants to hang out. Right?”

  Without waiting for Kerri’s response, Jo rapped brusquely on the front door. The girls waited. Jo knocked again, and Paula swung open the door and stared stonily at her.

  Jo put on a snooty accent and said, “Would the man of the house be in?”

  Paula said, “You’re looking at her.” She turned on her heel and walked away. Jo sashayed into the hallway, opened the door wider, and bowed deeply towards Kerri.

  “Madam,” she said.

  Kerri walked silently past Jo.

  Jo straightened up and said, “You’re welcome!” She swung the door shut and followed Kerri down the hall.

  In the kitchen, the bare bulb that hung from the ceiling gave off a dull orange glow through its patina of grease. The air was blue and wispy with cigarette smoke and smelled faintly of bacon. Paula sat at the table, still wearing her nightgown, smoking a cigarette and jimmying one leg up and down. She balanced a coffee mug of RC Cola on her large belly, wh
ich had begun to round and harden. Kerri and Jo stood. There was only one chair. Jo was telling Paula about their day.

  “I’ll tell you one thing, though,” Jo was saying. “That was the hardest six bucks I ever earned. Nearly tore my fucking arm out of its socket.” She gingerly rotated one arm in a circle and winced.

  “More like the only six bucks you ever earned,” said Paula, as she ashed her smoke in an empty potato chip bag. “D’you’s get any other empties like I said to?”

  Kerri glared at Jo.

  Jo said, “Time got away from us today, but we’ll be back out there first thing in the morning.”

  Paula rolled her eyes.

  “What about you, Paula,” asked Kerri. “How’s yer dad?”

  “Well, that’s the thing—” But she was interrupted by an excited “Goddamn!” from Jo, who had opened the fridge.

  “Look at all the grub in here!” Jo hollered. Paula bolted up from her chair, positioned her body between Jo and the fridge, and slammed the fridge shut with her hip. Jo backed up with her hands in the air and said, “Whoa!”

  Paula pointed her finger in Jo’s face and seethed, “My dad’s on to you. He says you all gotta stay away!”

  “Whaddaya mean he’s on to us?” Jo demanded, lowering her hands to her hips. Kerri shook her head and chewed the inside of her cheek.

  “He saw the state of this place,” Paula yelled. “He knew I been havin’ people round!”

  “Well, you didn’t tell him we were staying here, did ya?”

  “No, but he knew—”

  “Oh, bullshit, Paula!” Jo cut her off. “How’d he know unless you told?”

  “Listen!” hollered Paula. “It’s my fuckin’ house and I’m tellin’ ya my dad wants all yer asses outta here and that’s final!”

  She turned to grab her smokes from the table and muttered, “Or else he’s callin’ the cops.”

  Jo looked at Kerri. Kerri looked at the floor. Jo shook her head and walked over to the screen door that lead to the backyard. She pressed her forehead against the screen and said, “Great.”

  Through the screen they could hear crickets and someone’s mom calling them in for the night. The trees and the rooftops were black silhouettes against the darkening sky. From the living room, they heard the metallic twang of the TV turning on, then the sound of canned applause floated down the hallway followed by, “Wheel–of–Fortune!”