“Saffron.”
She didn’t turn to answer him; she just kept scrubbing the same pot till the sanitizer grew thick on the walls of the glass.
Coco, aka Katy Perry, came screeching “Last Friday Night,” from the back room, nail file working hard. She stopped behind Saffron and in front of Markis, who was staring forlornly at Saffron’s back from over the counter and over two tiers of self-pump coffee thermoses.
“What the…what’s going on here?”
The bell ting-a-linged. They all looked over at the door. It was ‘Jack Black,’ or rather, a woman that looked so much like him she could sign autographs. She always took exactly thirty seconds in the cooler getting cream cheese.
Coco looked at Saffron’s back, then at Markis as he shrugged and crossed his arms.
“Okay, you know what? We’re adults here. Saffron, Markis wants you. Bad. Markis…” she raised an eyebrow and watched ‘Jack Black’ make her way to the checkout counter, “I’m pretty sure you could take Miss Hot Pants out back now and have her any way you want her. She’s ready for you.”
Smash went the pot on the floor as Saffron shrieked, “Oh, my God, Coco!” and fled to the back of the store.
“Nice, Coco. Smooth.”
Markis turned and headed for the door. ‘Jack Black’ put the cream cheese on the counter and cleared her throat, staring at the cigarette display directly in front of her.
“One minute Ja…Ma’am,” Coco called over her shoulder as she eyed Markis with disapproval. Then her face flip-flopped as if she just remembered something. “Markis, can we get in an extra practice tonight?”
Markis threw a look heavenward. “Oh, my God, Coco. You. Are. Insane. You know I have school tomorrow.”
Coco shrugged.
Ting-a-ling. Outside, Markis put on his helmet and got on his bike.
Coco watched him out in the dark parking lot.
‘Jack Black’ leaned on the counter and stared from Coco to Markis, then back to Coco.
Coco walked right up to the window and mouthed, “Are we practicing tonight?”
Markis shook his head, gunned the engine, and wheeled off.
Coco backed up to the register. “No dedication.” She wagged her head.
“Pack a’ Marlboros,” Jack grunted as she pushed the cream cheese toward Coco.
Saffron came scurrying from out back with a dustpan and brush. Coco never took her eyes off of her as Saffron hunched over the mess and scraped the glass from the coffee pot into the metal receiving pan. Saffron swiped her eyes and nose as if she was crying, but Coco couldn’t be sure.
‘Jack Black’ left. Slowly, Coco walked over to Saffron, bent down and picked up the brown coffee pot handle. It had a jagged shard of glass sticking out of it like buckteeth. “Okay, I coulda had more tact.”
Saffron glared at the worn tiles. “Ya think?”
Coco shrugged. “Don’t get pissy, missy. Why does this have to drag on like this? You guys like each other. Get together. Come to band practice with me next time. I tried to get your boyfriend to have a session tonight but he’s all frantic about school. So come next Saturday…be his woman…see him every night, apply at his college, get in, shack up, get A’s together. It’s what you both want. I happen to know for a fact he liked you when you were still in high school, but he was afraid you’d explode if he got too near you. You guys have taken like, forever. What’s the problem anyway?”
“What do you mean you, ‘know for a fact,’ he liked me?” Saffron’s face was bright red. She looked down at her worn Maryjanes.
Coco looked coy. “Last night, when we were jammin’, I was like, ‘so when did all this Saffron stuff start up?’ And he was like, ‘She used to bite her bottom lip in school till it was red and puffy; I was mesmerized.’ Shite! The dude actually said, ‘mesmerized.’ That’s a fricken nice compliment, right? And sucking on your lip? Ooooh, so sexy.” Coco sucked on her bottom lip. “Oh, yeah, baby, that’s nice.”
Saffron held her breath and scrunched her toes. The skin on the back of her neck shriveled. Just the thought of the reality Coco had painted filled Saffron with dread. Dread and guilt. How could she be with Markis? Every time she closed her eyes, Ny was there, waiting for her. But Markis couldn’t want her that bad. Not, “move with me to college,” bad. It would never happen. And as soon as she left this store, she would be safe at home again. Her skin relaxed.
Ting-a-ling. They both pushed off the counter where they were leaning and looked toward the door. It was the cowboy. Coco stood up straighter and smoothed her hands all the way down her apron. Saffron fretted.
The cowboy sauntered by. “Ladies,” he drawled, but his eyes were glued on Coco.
“Why don’t you just go jump him right now Coco, if you like him so much?” Saffron forced the words out, barely above a hiss. She thought she might have a stroke on the spot. She lowered her eyes to Coco’s boots.
“Mebbe ah will,” Coco drawled with a hack southern accent as she sashayed down the aisle toward the little break in the counter system that let her out to the main part of the store.
Saffron actually lunged for her, missed grabbing her wrist by an inch, then stood by, mortified, as Coco panthered up to the cowboy. She made him drop his Nesquick with her sly smile. Taking his hand, she led him back to the register counter, through the entrance slot, and down the aisle where Saffron stood rooted to the floor with the dustpan of shards still in her hand. Her mouth hung open as they passed. Coco smirked, winked, and kept on. The cowboy’s eyes were starting to glaze. Was he drooling? Saffron slapped her hand to her mouth. She witnessed them like a traffic accident. She wanted to turn away, but the drama was too seductive.
Through another doorway, she saw Coco lean up against the wall to the right of the bathroom door. She nearly choked as Coco pulled the cowboy toward her. Saffron dropped the dustpan of shards as she saw the cowboy bend at the knees, squat, then push forward, pinning Coco’s skinny-Levied pelvis up to the wall, grinding once, twice, one of his large hands yanking through her bed-head Cher hair, the other hand already sliding up her shirt.
“Oh, shit.” Saffron shrieked low and ran to shut the door that separated the back of the store from the front of the store, blocking them from view. In a daze, she crunched back over the glass, back along the counter, turned herself like a marionette, and gripped the register. She covered her ears when the muffled moaning started.
Across the street, from the steepled church, five o’clock mass let out.
Four and a half minutes later, just as much time as it took her to get across the intersection with her walker, there came the first customer. Her blue hair peeked out from under her fur hat, her wool coat buttoned to her neck, and her galoshes firmly suctioned to her sensible shoes. She banged through the door, using her walker as a battering ram, threw Saffron a look that said, “I know you’re a little whore,” and step/step/clopped her way to the cooler.
The muffled noises increased. Saffron began to sweat.
Step/Step/Clop walked back to the front of the store as an elderly couple, also just released, greeted her with sugary smiles. They headed for the coffee station. Step/Step/Clop nodded at them, then turned to Saffron, her smile dropping from her face like dung from a donkey.
“You got something going on out back?”
Saffron stared at her.
“Hello? Out back, you got some noises. Like a machine breaking down or something.” Her hands fluttered. “Bang! Bang! Creeeeeak. Sounds like something needs a new belt before the whole thing blows.” She frowned at Saffron, shook her head. “Just this, please.” She pushed a carton of Half & Half across the counter.
Saffron could hardly make her hand work to punch the keypad on the register. From far away, Coco started ooooing.
The coffee couple arrived at Saffron’s register. They put their cups on the counter and spilled some. The old man leered, “Whatcha got? Got ghosts back there? Oooooo!”
Saffron felt bile creep up her esophagus. She dro
pped to her knees beside the pile of brown paper bags and started patting at them.
“No,” said Step/Step/Clop from up above as she picked up her bag with the Half & Half in it, “She’s got belts loose back there. Mark my words; somethin’s gonna blow soon.” She Step/Step/Clopped out the door.
Saffron pulled, then pushed herself up, using the counter. When she was standing at full hunch, she held onto the rubbed Formica for dear life. “Will that be all?” The couple wasn’t listening to her.
The old man leaned over the counter, looked down the alley that Saffron stood in. “OOoooooooOOOoooo!” He put his hand behind his ear and waited for a response. But suddenly, all was quiet.
Saffron’s shoulders sagged. She punched the keypad, told them the coffee total was four dollars, twenty cents. They paid with a five. She punched in the numbers and the drawer rang open.
Then, a noise from the back. “Unh, unh, unh, unh.”
The man was still looking down the aisle at the closed door. Now his wife tilted over the counter to stare at the closed door as well.
Saffron’s shoulders hitched back up. She slammed the drawer shut in time with the next, ‘unh,’ so hard that coins burst from their slots, and the drawer missed its catch, and popped right back at her. She slammed it again in time with the next ‘unh,’ and again, ‘unh’ crash, ‘unh’ crash, ‘unh’ crash; quarters and nickels, dimes and pennies kept popping free.
Sudden awareness crossed the dry wrinkles of the little old woman’s face. Her hand fluttered to her chest. She gave Saffron the, “I know you’re a little whore,” look and yanked on her husband’s arm. He spilled more coffee. “Let’s go,” she snapped. He didn’t clean his mess.
Twenty minutes later the cowboy threw the back door open, adjusted his crotch, tipped his hat at Saffron, who noticed his fly was still open, and whistled out the door. Coco sauntered out. Her mouth and cheeks were red as if someone had sandpapered her. Her long, black hair puffed with knots. “Oh, God, I feel so alive! Don’t you think he looks like Matthew McConaughey?”
“Owen Wilson.” Saffron mumbled into her hands. She leaned on her elbows at the register counter.
Coco yelled over the splashing as she washed her hands in the deli sink. “You still mad at me?”
Saffron dropped her forehead on the counter. “No. I just don’t know how you can be like that.”
“Like what?” Coco opened her register to count out some bills and make a money drop in the safe.
“Never mind.”
“No, really. Like what?”
Saffron was silent.
Coco stopped counting. She put her face down on the counter next to Saffron’s. “Be rude and get it on while you’re working out here alone? I know. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t care about working out here alone. That’s not what I’m talking about. It’s just, how can you do it at all?”
“What do you mean, you need a sex lesson?”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Coco! Never mind!” Saffron turned her head over. Outside, twilight stars twinkled. “Coco? How come you never hung around with me before? You know, at school.”
“Princess Fiona.”
Saffron rolled her head over and squinted up at her.
“Yeah, did you know people called you that? All the chicks that hung around with Mindy and Samantha got princess names. The darling couple themselves? Well, Mindy was The Wicked Bitch of the East and Samantha was the Wicked Bitch of the West. I didn’t want to try to know you, Saffron. Give me a break; who would? You hung around with them. I thought you were like them.” She shrugged an ‘oh, well.’
Saffron stood up straight. She never imagined hanging around with Mindy and Co. was making her look bad. She was always sure she made them look bad, and she had always been thankful for their scraps of tolerance, that they let her hang around them at all.
Coco chuckled at Saffron’s wide eyes. “Girl, you need some confidence. If you were a self-induced moron with metal-bending halitosis I’d say, ‘Sure, hide in a closet, you’re scaring people.’ But you’re not. You’re beautiful and I’m always laughing when I hang around with you. Look around, man. See things a little differently. You’re getting old – yuh gotta get on with life.
“As far as I’m concerned, your only mistake in life was choosing that gag-me girly squad to hang around with. Your choices for friends, Saffron, P.U! C’mon, half of those freakin’ coffee thermoses are empty; let’s do another batch.”
Saffron followed her like a puppy.
Throughout the night, Coco babbled on like rain on a tin roof. Saffron wandered with the duster, allowing Ny to stalk to the front of her thoughts. As she shuffled around the corner of the condom aisle, Saffron stopped and fell into a trance.
In her head, all was black. Then the black became a dome in which stars twinkled. The moon was full, every single crater magnified. She was encased in pristine silence as she saw herself standing barefoot on sugar-white sands on the edge of a black lake. The lake was surrounded on all sides by shadowed mountains with glittering, snowcapped-peaks. An empty glass boat glided toward her, across the inky waters, cleaving and moving the water as if it were yards and yards of obsidian air silk. She stepped into the boat and sat in the center, hugging her knees to her chest. Through the bottom of the boat, she saw flashes of tiny, glowing, neon fish. She hung her hand outside of the boat and dipped her fingers into the lukewarm water. The fish swam up one by one, kissed her flesh, and disappeared into the depths when they found her inedible. The boat was bearing her silently across the lake. She saw no one was waiting for her on the far shore. She strained her eyes as she searched the shore again. Her body became leaden. She felt her heart tear so wide she could almost hear it. Big tears welled in her eyes. She shook them away and searched again. The coming shore held only sand and the shadows of trees that swayed when the wind caught up in their canopy. A sudden gust of wind shrieked in her ears. Its scream amplified beyond her tolerance and the dream shattered around her.
Someone had come into the store. He headed for the milk cooler. Big round tears bounced off her freckled cheeks and plopped to the cracked linoleum. She couldn’t catch her breath.
Coco appeared in front of her. “Saffron, look. I don’t know you that well? But I’ve kinda been watching you because you seem to be acting a little….” Coco didn’t say “strange,” seeing as how Saffron was hypersensitive and always a little strange. But she also knew that Saffron, The-Gorgeous-When-Not-Hunched-Redhead, was weirder than usual today. Coco felt like she had to say something. Saffron was actually making her nervous. It was a strange sensation – nervous - that she had no use for. It didn’t quite fit into the already emotion-filled saddlebag that was her mind. She scratched her head and looked around at the condom display. “Are you just trying to decide on which brand? These ribbed Trojans are overrated.”
Saffron bit her lip to stop the tears. What was wrong with her? What was Ny doing? Was he doing it, or was she really going insane?
Coco’s eyes went flat. “Okay, definitely not deciding on condoms. Dude, what’s going on up here?” Lightly, she tapped Saffron’s forehead.
Saffron choked. “I’m okay. I’m so tired. I just need to sleep.”
“Saffron, I can’t keep putting you to bed in the back room. I mean, I don’t mind workin’ the store alone or nothin’ like that. It’s just that, why aren’t you sleeping at home? If you don’t get enough sleep, you’ll go insane. It’s been proven.” Coco’s head bobbed mournfully. “We’re calling your mother. You need to go home. Maybe you’re coming down with something.”
Were all of her problems due to lack of sleep? Maybe she should go to a sleep specialist instead of a shrink. She could go to one of those sleep clinics she heard about on the radio station; the commercial after the ‘breast enhancement’ commercial and before the ‘lose fifty pounds in a week commercial.’ She decided Coco was right; she should go home, go to bed.
***
Markis came back to the stor
e around ten-thirty. He was unusually serious as he craned his neck to look around the store.
Coco came from out back at the ting-a-ling. “Saffron went home sick.” She reached into the cooler for the bucket of tuna salad. She put some on a paper towel and grabbed a spoon she kept behind the parade of scratch tickets. She took the salad from the reserves bucket, never from the congealed display tray. She cupped the paper towel of tuna and dug in, talking to Markis between bites as she leaned her bones on the counter. She babbled on while he frowned.
He stared out the black window. Was Saffron sick or avoiding him? He decided he was not going to hound her again. Maybe he was pressuring her. She was so upset when he left earlier. She wouldn’t even look at him, like she wanted to avoid him. Maybe he would just give her a call to make sure she was okay. Or would she feel pressured? He decided to leave her alone. If she liked him…she’d let him know. If she didn’t bother with him, except to give those forced polite smiles, then he’d know to give it up. He made himself listen to Coco.
“Mwah, mwah, mwah mwah, mwah mwah.” She jutted her chin at him. “Yeah, I knew you weren’t listening.” She shook her head as she poked her cupped tuna salad. “You freakin’ people. Just tell her how you feel. Believe me; she needs to hear that from you right now. She really was sick when she went home. She needs something to rock her world. You know what I’m saying? Rock her world, then give her a nap. That’ll solve all her damn problems.”
“Coco, you think that’s the cure for everything.”
She held her hands out. “It is.”
On the ride home, Saffron’s mother had gotten less out of her than Coco had. Saffron didn’t want to talk. She wanted to get home to her bed. She wanted to go to sleep. No talking, no thinking, no dreaming. Just sleeping.
At ten-thirty, she was in bed, arguing with her mother and Derek, who stood in the doorway. They wanted her to pick one of them to sleep in her room with her even though the moon wasn’t full.
While she argued feebly, Mr. and Mrs. Garden Gnome had a spat in the garden. Apparently, the Mrs. was sick and tired of the Mr. chewing on his toenails and spitting them about their spic-and-span, brand-new, underground lair. She screamed at him. She swore little gnome swears at him, flung gourds and other produce at his head. For a finale, she cracked a stick over his skull and pushed him face-first into a pile of fresh manure. He stormed off and harassed the alpacas by riding them and yanking their long silky locks. The alpacas skittered and rolled and hummed in dismay, trying to throw him off.
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