Poor White Trash

by Jane Carrington

  Chapter 2

  A few weeks into school, Jake and I sat in our corner eating lunch. The free lunch application had been approved and it was one less thing for me to worry about. That still left plenty, however. It was especially loud in the lunchroom today and it was starting to give me a headache. The far wall was packed with the decorated tables of colleges trying to recruit seniors, schedule interviews, testing and tours of the college campus. A few wandered between the table, making small talk, asking questions and handing out cards. No one approached our table.

  Jake looked over at them with resentment. “They don’t come over here because they think poor means stupid.”

  “No, it’s just that we’re tucked away in the corner. Our body language says ‘leave us alone’.” I smiled. He didn’t. “Screw ‘em, Jake. Who cares? We can’t afford an Ivy League college anyway. We can probably go to the community college or tech school. Either way, it’s still college.”

  He nodded, staring at his food. I knew it bothered him. Even with a 4.0 gpa and taking honors everything his entire high school career, it still wasn’t enough to attract the elite colleges. No one even suggest he try for a scholarship. The thing about Jake is that he knew he belonged there. It was only the address and the clothes separating him from sitting at the table with the rich kids who had their Harvard education all planned out and paid for.

  I, on the other hand, wasn’t so caught up in where I was going to go. I wanted the results. I wanted the degree that would lead to a good job, a steady paycheck and a nice little apartment on the east side of town. I had a feeling Jake wanted even more than that. He didn’t just want to break the cycle of poverty, he wanted to shatter it. And I knew he would.

  One of the new girls, Susan—or Suzie as she liked to be called, joined us again today. She had sat with us more days than not and I had tolerated it, less days than more. She relaxed when Jake looked over and said hi. It was clear that she had a huge crush on Jake. It irritated me because I couldn’t talk freely. I just clammed up. I think it makes me seem anti-social. Maybe I am.

  Suzie was what we called ‘moderately poor’. She lived in an apartment near the rich neighborhood, but her parents both worked low paying full time jobs and barely made ends meet. Her clothes were decent, but not labeled fashion. I smelled her hair product from across the table and wished I could afford some for myself. The cure to all my hairstyle problems was to simply put my full head of loose curls in a ponytail every day with rubber bands I swiped from science class. Problem solved.

  Jake laughed and it pulled me from my thoughts. They were smiling and I faked one, having no idea what they were talking about. I was looking forward to the walk home so I could talk to Jake again.

  “You should come to the diner and talk to Hank. He said there was no phone number listed on your application, but he told me to tell you he’s ready to hire another part time gal,” Jake said as the bus pulled away. “I’m sorry I forgot to tell you at lunch.”

  Because Miss Suzie Q was distracting you, I thought with more than a hint of venom.

  “Really? That’s great. I’ll go over this afternoon.”

  “Well, he can’t really give you a lot of hours. Business has been slower. I’ve been cut to three days a week even and shorter shifts. But waiting tables you’ll get tips, so that’s good.”

  Jake worked as a jack of all trades in the small diner. He helped the cook, a crotchety old bastard who cooked in the Navy for twenty years, washed dishes, bussed tables and whatever else old Hank needed him to do.

  “Want to walk over with me later?” I asked.

  “I can’t. My dad has an appointment and his leg is bothering him. I have to drive.” Jake’s father had a truck that was older than dirt and only ran half the time. The tricky clutch that took superman legs to push in all the way.

  I let my head fall and my shoulders slump in an exaggerated show of sulking.

  “Aw, come on. I would if I could.”

  I looked up and Jake was smiling.

  “Come by later and let me know how it goes, okay?”

  “I will.”

  “Oh, and one more thing. I won’t be at lunch tomorrow.”

  “Why not?” I asked, feeling a small ball of panic well up in my stomach. I hated to get through lunch without Jake. He was the buffer between myself and all the other kids who were just waiting to take a jab at me. I would sneak my lunch in the library, I decided quickly.

  “I have to do some extra work.”

  “Oh.”

  “Just some make up testing, sort of.” He kept his eyes on the ground as he walked. “I’ll see you on the bus though.” He turned toward his place.

  “Bye.” I said, too quietly for him to hear.

  ­♥­

  Later, I walked into Hank’s diner, suddenly nervous and scared. Public places tended to do that to me. He saw me and waved me behind the counter and into the small kitchen. He stood behind the grill, his white apron covered with a large round of tan grease.

  “So, you have any experience waitin’ tables?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Just call me Hank, hon. I ain’t nobody special.” He smiled and his old eyes sparkled over his weather worn face.

  I nodded.

  “Jake gave you quite the recommendation.”

  “Jake and I are best friends,” I said, but quickly added, “But that won’t interfere with work at all sir-Hank.”

  “I know. If you’re anything like Jake, I won’t regret hirin’ you. I’ll put you with Daisy for a week or two and she’ll ease you into your own. She’s a damn good waitress. You just follow her and do everything she says and you’ll be fine.”

  I nodded.

  “An’ I can’t give you a lot of hours right now. I know you might need ‘em, but till you grow your waitress wings, I’ll only be able to give you maybe ten, twelve hours a week.”

  “That’s fine.”

  “Minimum wage plus tips.”

  “That’s fine.”

  “Don’t be discouraged if tips ain’t great at first. As you get some experience and get to know the regulars, you’ll make more. Daisy makes upward of sixty bucks a shift, most days.”

  I smiled. I don’t think I had ever even held eighty dollars at one time.

  “Thank you, Hank. For giving me a shot. I’ll do good.”

  He smiled again. “I know you will, kid. Here’s an apron. Why don’t you stop by this Saturday about ten for your first shift.”

  “I’ll be here.” I waved and left with my apron tucked under my arm.

  Well, I had done it. I had my first job. And even though I hadn’t wanted to get a job before I finished school, I would make it work. I stopped by Jake’s place on my way home.

  “Hey there, co-worker,” I said, holding up the apron as he stepped outside.

  “You got it?”

  I smiled. “I did. Thanks for putting in a good word for me.”

  He answered me with a big hug.

  “Wait, I thought your father had an appointment?”

  “He did, but by the time I got home he had self-medicated.” His father’s drunken holler from behind made Jake cringe. I stepped back.

  “I’ll talk to you later.” I said.

  “I’ll come over later if I can, alright?”

  I nodded and he rushed back inside.

  ­♥­

  The next day I wrapped my burger and fries in a napkin, stuffed it into my backpack and headed for the library. I only ate lunch here when Jake was absent. The same group has haunted the library for the last four years. Only a few new faces. They were from all walks of life, the ones that lurked here. Mostly the super smart, the socially inept and the friendless.

  It was then I noticed Denny. He was a typical bad boy from the trailer park with greasy hair and a leather jacket. No one talked to him because most people were afraid of him.

  Finding no empty table, I slipped into a chair next to two guys who were engrossed in a role playing card gam
e. They seemed slightly annoyed at my joining them uninvited but I didn’t care. I pulled my burger out underneath the table and nibbled at it pretending to read a book.

  Just before the bell, two men in Army uniforms came into the library talking quietly. They stood outside of a study room door and it was then that I noticed the sign on the door.

  “Quiet, ASFAB testing in progress” One soldier opened the door and I saw Jake’s head bent over a desk.

  ­♥­

  Jake barely made the bus in time. He sat down next to me, panting.

  “That was close.”

  “So how’d your testing go?”

  “Okay. AP Biology is kicking my butt.”

  “Biology, huh?” I stared at him and he knew I knew.

  “Look, it’s just a test.”

  “You lied to me.”

  “No, I didn’t. Biology is kicking my butt this year.”

  “But you lied about where you were.”

  “No, I said it was make up testing. I was supposed to take the test last week but bailed at the last minute.”

  I turned and stared fiercely out the window.

  “Look, Meg, it’s just a test. I still haven’t signed up. I still don’t know if I am. I just want to know where I stand is all.”

  He tried to touch my shoulder and I jerked it as far as the confined space would allow.

  When the bus stopped I shoved past him, out the door and started for home. He had to jog to catch up with my fast angry walk.

  “Meg. Listen to me. I had to at least see where I stand. If I do this—and I’m not saying for sure that I will—then I at least need to know what options are available to me.”

  I whirled around to face him. “You know what options are available in the military, Jake. You live with that option every day. I can’t believe you are even considering this with what happened to your father. You’ll be handed a gun and sent to some god-forsaken country and told to shoot people and they’ll shoot at you and then you’ll come home and never be normal again! You’ll start drinking and treat your family like shit, just like your father. That’s the only option with the military, Jake!”

  His face tensed, he shoved his hands in his pockets and glared at me. People around us were starting to stare.

  “No. That won’t happen to me. I won’t be like him. They said if I tested high enough that I could—”

  “I don’t want to hear it.” I turned and he grabbed my coat sleeve.

  “You need to hear it. There are options other than being cannon fodder you know. I could get pre—law college classes out of the way while working a para—legal desk job or something and never even see combat.”

  “Is that what they told you?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you believe them?” I laughed. “They will say whatever you want to hear to get you to sign and then they can do whatever they want with you. You know that, Jake.”

  “I’m smart. They aren’t going to waste that. They’ll put me somewhere useful.”

  I shook my head. “And what happens if you get hurt. They send you home bruised and broken and then what? Then you are right back here were you started.” My voice was shaking and my eyes stung as I yelled at him.

  He let go of my sleeve and turned to walk away. After a few paces, he turned and came back. He threw his arms in the air.

  “What else am I supposed to do, Meg? What the hell am I supposed to do? I have no money, all the scholarships are gone, and I’ve got a part time job at Hank’s that barely keeps the lights on. I’ve got no future! I have nothing to look forward to except more of this!” He spread his arms out wide not caring about the small audience we now had. “And I can’t deal with this anymore. I won’t stay here, physically or mentally. I have to take any ticket out of this pathetic life that I can grab. And right now this is all I got.”

  He turned again but this time didn’t stop. I stood in the street feeling small and alone. The crowd started to disperse, whispering.

  ­♥­

  I was in a terrible mood and my mother’s new boyfriend hanging around all evening didn’t help. This one was a real winner. She met him at the food bank. Disabled, out of work and collecting state money, he complained constantly about the injustices of life.

  Right now they were in their own little world sitting on the couch watching TV. It was a match made in heaven. I cooked enough dinner for Kyle, Kaylie and myself and then went to my room to do homework.

  I couldn't’ concentrate on anything and that aggravated me even more. When Jake and I had a disagreement, nothing in the world was right until we were again. I put on and took off my coat three times, arguing with myself.

  No, he needs to come here. He yelled at me.

  You yelled at him too, stupid.

  It doesn’t matter. He’s talking like a crazy man, joining the military!

  You know he’s right. It’s his only way out.

  No, there has to be something else.

  What then, smarty-pants?

  I don’t know. But he needs to make the first move. He needs to say sorry for yelling at me.

  You need to say sorry for talking about his father. You know he doesn’t like to talk about him. You crossed that line.

  I crossed that line. I said hurtful things to try make my selfish point. I hurt him.

  I put my coat on and walked out only to be hissed at for getting in the way of the small TV screen.

  “I’ll be back in a minute,” I said to the zombies. They ignored me.

  Just as I reached for the knob, I heard a hard, tinny knock. I knew it was Jake.

  “Can I talk to you?” he asked, looking down as he scuffed the gravel with the toe of his worn tennis shoe.

  “Sure.” I closed the door behind me and stepped outside. The moon was full and bright, casting shadows all around us.

  “I’m sorry.”

  I exhaled, grateful he had said it first. I hated, but couldn’t help, being prideful. Pride was just about the only thing I owned, and I clung to it. “I’m sorry, too.”

  He nodded with his own relief. “Want to walk with me?”

  I zipped my coat and turned toward the gravel road that separated lines of trailers.

  “I wish you could understand, Meg.”

  “I’m trying, Jake.”

  He shook his head as if to say, No, you don’t.

  “Why don’t you join with me?”

  “Why on earth would I do that, Jake?”

  “College money, a paycheck, to see the world and get out of this shit-hole. Same reasons as me. Maybe we’d end up getting stationed close together?”

  “Not likely.” Was precisely the possibility of being closely stationed or of my joining. I knew him well enough to know when his mind was made up. He couldn’t be persuaded, I realized.

  “So when are you going?”

  “Summer. When school lets out.”

  “Have you already signed up?”

  “No. I wanted to make sure you were okay with it first.”

  “Well, I’m not. But you can’t let that stop you.”

  “I need you to be okay with it.”

  I shrugged.

  “Okay, then, what else would I do? Let’s say I’m an invalid and you are in charge of planning my life. After graduation, what do I do?”

  I laughed. “An invalid? Not many options open to you, I’m afraid.”

  “C’mon, Meg. You know what I mean.”

  “Well,” I pretended to think even though I had already thought it through several times. “I suppose we could work at Hank’s and pay for community college. Get a 2 year degree and then get a better job. Then pay for university. Then get a better job. Get an apartment away from here and just work our way up.”

  “Get an apartment, together?” he asked in a neutral tone. For reasons I didn’t understand, my heart did a little flip flop.

  “Well, I guess we could be roommates. It would make sense.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets.
>
  “Well, what’s to say you couldn’t come with me where ever I am stationed? When I find out where I’m going to be, you fly out and we could do the roommate thing and you could do your community college thing. Although I think you are smart enough for university.”

  I took a moment to think about it. Being able to stay near Jake was tempting, but traveling who knew where and starting over was terrifying. Suddenly I couldn’t deal with any option.

  “Can we talk about something else? We have all year to figure this out.”

  He sighed. “Sure. When do you start at Hank’s?”

  “Saturday.”

  “Oh. I work Saturday, too.”

  We slowed our walk, noticing a moving truck backed up to an empty trailer. A mother, father and a teenager were unloading the truck in silence. They didn’t look at each other, or us, as we slowly passed. From the look of them, and the furniture they were unloading,

  I assumed they were newly poor. We had a fair amount of them lately. People who used to live on the other side of the tracks but lost their jobs and then lost everything. They ended up living here, among the invisible.