Poor White Trash

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Poor White Trash Page 6

by Jane Carrington


  “Fine.” I took a deep breath. “A few years ago I started…drawing.”

  “Drawing?”

  I nodded and slumped down, waiting for the world to come crashing down on me. He glanced at the sketchpad in front of me.

  “That’s great. Can I see?”

  “Well, why else do you think I’m here, Jake.”

  He held out his hand. I picked them up and began to hand them over with shaking hands. Suddenly I pulled them back.

  “C’mon Meg. Let me see. I really want to.”

  “You swear you won’t laugh? Or think I’m weird?”

  “Of course not. I’d never laugh at you, Meg.”

  I began flipping through them, huddled close to my chest, trying to decide which ones I could survive showing.

  Cursing under my breath at why I had even done this in the first place, his hand stopped my frantic flipping.

  “Can I see, please?” He took them slowly, his eyes reassuring mine.

  Sitting back with the pad on his lap, he slowly raised the cover of the sketch pad, exposing my soul.

  His eyes widened in surprise as he studied the first one. It was a freehand copy of the infamous beach scene in the movie “From Here to Eternity.”

  “Wow, Meg. You did this?” he breathed.

  “Yeah.” I whispered. I still felt as if I were going to explode into a thousand pieces and almost wished I could, to put an end to my internal writhing.

  He lay the first drawing on the table very carefully, checking the table for dirt or dampness.

  He looked down at the next picture and his head did a small, tight jerking movement back. He blinked, and his eyes were all over the drawing, taking in every detail.

  “My God, Meg, this is amazing.”

  I tried to smile and put my hand to my stomach, willing it to stop lurching. I’d never live it down if I threw up on his deck. I watched his face. It was easier than looking at the drawings with him. Small expressions of surprise, interest and awe flashed over his face as he studied each page.

  I watched his cheeks and ears turn the slightest shade of red as the drawings became more intimate and revealing. These were the ones I feared judgment on the most. I was pretty sure I had stopped breathing, waiting for his reaction. I looked over his head at the night sky; clear, black and full of cold, distant diamonds. The North Star was so bright tonight; like an uncomfortable spotlight.

  It seemed an eternity that he just sat, and stared.

  “Shit, Jake, would you say something? I’m dying over here.”

  Looking up slowly, but not taking his eyes off the pad until the very last, he smiled.

  “Meg, this is…how did you…why didn’t you tell me….” He shrugged and shook his head, open-mouthed before looking back down. “Meg, you’re an amazing artist,” he whispered.

  My heart stopped. I exhaled the breath I had been holding for who knew how long and I went to gelatin in my chair. Art, not porn. That’s how he saw it. That’s how I needed him to see it.

  “Who are these people?” he asked, gently tracing some of the outlines with his finger.

  “Just people in my head. Sometimes I’ll see someone on the street and take the image of them home and work them into something. So, are we even? On secrets, I mean?”

  “Oh.” The wistful, almost hopeful look on his face faded. “Yeah. I thought maybe…”

  “Maybe what?”

  “Nothing. These are truly extraordinary, Meg. They are cleaner than Picasso and more modest than Edward Hopper….Your style is almost like Eric Fischl. But the emotion in some of their faces…I can’t even place that. That is in a league all its own.”

  “I don’t even know who they are. Except Picasso. And don’t even go comparing me to him,” I warned.

  “It’s a complement. I say that because of this.” He pulled out a drawing from the middle of the stack. “It’s because the world around these lovers are skewed. It’s busy, the lines are less defined. As if nothing is truly real around them. Your characters are the only solid and stable thing and they are clinging to each other. The detail, down to the shadows on his hand, are just…”

  I turned my head and dared to look, thankful he had chosen a modest picture.

  “And how you managed to show full nudity without showing anything vital is amazing. It reveals everything, but leaves nothing to the imagination.” He smiled, holding one picture as he relaxed back into the chair. “This is work that belongs in museums, Meg. In magazines and on the cover of books. It should be on display with the big boys.”

  “Considering I almost died just showing you, I’ll hold off on the museum unveiling.”

  The demons came then, rising from their dark quiet places. They swooped in and swirled around me, taunting. I tried to ignore them. I had begun to relax and enjoy my time with Jake; enjoying his interest and what I perceived to be genuine praise. They whispered my worst fears and laughed as I realized them to be true.

  I began to gather my drawings which were spread out too much for my comfort.

  “Since when do you know so much about famous artists?” I asked.

  “Remember that field trip we took to the art museum last year?”

  “No. I didn’t go.”

  “Well, I wish you would have. You’d see what I was talking about. After that trip I just became interested in the different styles. I’m no expert.”

  See, the demons said. He’s no expert. He has no idea what he’s talking about. He’s your friend, trying to make you feel better, Meg. That’s all. You’ll never stand next to the great ones. You are an invisible nobody. You’ll always be poor…white…trash. They don’t put trash in museums, Meg.

  “I need to go,” I said, standing abruptly.

  “Can’t I look at them one more time?” he asked. I shook my head hard and pulled the last picture out of his hands.

  “Wait, Meg. Don’t go.” He grabbed my hand. “Please.”

  I looked at him and glanced down at the drawings. “Okay, but I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

  “About your work?”

  “It’s not work.” I sat down hard. “Don’t call it work like it’s something I take seriously or plan on showing anyone else on this earth. It’s doodling. I draw when I’m bored and my mom is hogging the TV. I draw because I don’t have anything else going on in my miserable life,” I was nearly yelling, my shaky voice threatening tears. “I draw to escape.”

  “And those people make the best kinds of artists. The ones that have miserable lives because they pour all their emotion out into their work—drawings,” he corrected after a threatening glance.

  “Can we talk about something else please?” I suddenly remembered that he had something to tell me and I was all too eager to hear it.

  “Sure.” He handed the last sketch back to me. “Want me to get you more coffee?”

  “No, I’ll be up all night as it is.”

  “Are you cold?”

  I was cold, I suddenly realized. I shivered, But didn’t want to go inside. I wanted to stay right here with Jake, and even though I didn’t want to talk about it anymore, I desperately wanted him to say something I could believe. Or something that would make me forget that I couldn’t believe him.

  “You said you wanted to tell me something. You’re turn.”

  He sat back, crossed his arms and looked deep in thought. “I don’t know if it’s the right time to bring this up.”

  “No fair!”

  “I’m not trying to be unfair, Meg. And I’m really glad you showed me these. I know it was hard for you.” He played with the edge of the stiff white paper with his finger. “I guess I just thought-” He paused and ran his hand through his hair with a deep sigh. “I don’t know what I thought.”

  “Well, regardless of what you thought, there it is. My big secret.”

  “And I’m really honored that you shared it with me. Thank you. You are….amazing.” Even though he was the picture of sincerity, something lingered in th
e shadows of his eyes.

  “I’m waiting, Jake.”

  Chapter 6

  After several moments of uncomfortable fidgeting and trying to change the subject, he came out with something that blindsided me.

  “Have you ever wondered why we don’t date other people?” He stared at the table, frowning and twisting a crackling autumn leaf between his thumb and forefinger.

  “Well, no. I mean, who are we going to date? We don’t have the widest selection, you know.”

  “Well, it just seems to me that we should be dating….someone. We’re both going to be eighteen next month and we’ve always just….hung out.”

  I pulled my knees up to my chest and hugged them. “Well, like I said, we don’t have a lot around here to choose from. And even if we did, I guess I’ve always worried that it might get in the way of our friendship. I wouldn’t want anything to ruin that.”

  “So, are you saying that you’ve been asked out and turned them down because you thought it would change our friendship?”

  “Well, no.”

  “No you haven’t been asked out or no you turned them down because of me.”

  He leaned forward, waiting while I sat wrestling with my pride.

  “Jake, I don’t know—”

  “Answer my question, please.”

  “Fine. No. I haven’t been asked out. Happy? I feel real good about myself now. Thanks, Jake.”

  I put my head down on my knees and sighed.

  “I don’t mean to make you feel bad. I just need to know….why we’ve never dated anyone else. I mean, anyone.”

  I felt my temper rising and took a moment to calm before I raised my head. I didn’t want to ruin what was left of our time together. I threw my hands up in the air. “I guess it’s just not part of the whole coming of age in the trailer park experience, Jake.”

  “Well, it could be.”

  “Maybe I don’t want it to be,” I said, exasperated. “Maybe I’m happy with things just as they are. You’re my best friend. You’re wonderful and perfect and I don’t need anything else.”

  “Maybe I do.”

  I sat in stunned silence.

  “Maybe I do,” he repeated, and looked relieved to finally say it. I had no idea what he meant or what to ask and let him do the talking. “And I think you do too, but you won’t admit it.” I grunted, hugged my legs again and looked away. I didn’t want anything to change. “Suzie asked me to do something Saturday night, even if you and Sam didn’t want to go,” he said. I kept my head turned, looking at the mostly naked trees behind the trailer.

  Crickets dominated the conversation for a few moments while that sunk in. Finally I turned to him. “I’m sorry, when did all this happen?”

  “After you left lunch early.”

  “So, why are you telling me this?” I spat the question at him.

  “Because I needed to know whether or not you’d mind.”

  “Yeah, I’d mind. But don’t let that stop you.” I waived my hand in the air and made to get up. He grabbed my arm.

  “Why do you mind, Meg. Tell me why you’d mind and I won’t go out with her.” I yanked my arm away and it flew back, hitting the metal umbrella pole. I didn’t care about the pain or the small gash on my arm.

  “Because I can’t stand her,” I said. “I can’t stand her sweet little mousey ways, her acceptance of her pitiful life and the smell of her hair products. And how she’s just so head over heels for you that she makes a complete idiot of herself! She has no pride! It’s embarrassing.”

  I gathered up my drawings, regretting ever coming over and turned to leave.

  “That’s why?” He stood up quickly, blocking my way off the small deck. “That’s the only reason why?”

  I couldn’t bring myself to look up at him. My face burned red and I was seething inside myself.

  “Look me in the eyes, Meg, and tell me the only reason you’d mind is because she annoys you.” He was almost whispering, his voice pleading.

  I couldn’t tell him that I was terrified to lose him, though I wanted to. That he was the only stable thing in my screwed up world and I couldn’t stand the thought of someone getting in between us and taking up his time and attention. I had my pride and unlike Suzie Q, I wouldn’t let myself look like a desperate fool. Besides, if he really cared about me, he’d already know these things. I steeled myself and looked up.

  “She annoys me,” I hissed.

  He looked away, shoved his hands in his pockets and stepped aside, allowing me to pass. I stomped down the steps and along the dirt path. Once to the road, I stopped. I couldn’t leave him like this. I wouldn’t sleep and neither would he. I didn’t turn around, but I could feel his eyes on me.

  “Forget something?” he called.

  I looked down at my drawings. That was a good enough excuse. I whirled around and walked past him with my eyes fixed ahead of me. I started poking around the small deck, pretending to look. “I think I left a drawing here,” I growled.

  “I think you can’t leave angry at me,” he said. It wasn’t so much the words as the slightly mocking tone he used. I could tell he was smiling.

  “Oh, and I suppose you sleep like a baby tonight after we’ve had a fight.” I stuck my head under the table, squinting into the darkness looking for a paper that wasn’t there.

  “Is that what this is? A fight?”

  “For all intents and purposes, yes.” I stood and moved one chair out of the way. Nope, no paper there, either.

  “And why are we fighting, Meg? It was never my intention, when you came over here, for us to end up fighting. So how did this happen?”

  “This happened, Jake, because you informed me that you are intent on dating a grade A pop tart. She fawns and drools over you and you obviously don’t mind.

  “No, I don’t.” I stopped my false search and stared at him. “It actually feels nice, to have someone feel that way about you. Or, rather, to have someone show that they feel that way about you.”

  “And I suppose you feel the same way about her. All gooey eyed and floppy stomached….well, do you?”

  “Honestly, no. I mean, she’s nice. And she is pretty. She can be really funny, actually—”

  “Oh, my God. Can we stop talking about all the things Suzie is?!” I held the back of the chair, desperately wanting to hurl it over the table at him.

  “It’s not that I’m in love with her or anything, I just need—” I had the tremendous urge to vomit. And hit things.

  “I have to go.” I stopped my pretend search for artwork and stomped away. He called after me once, but I ignored him.

  I hoped he doesn’t sleep a wink tonight for our fight, I thought childishly. But insecurities whispered through the night, telling me he was sleeping just fine, and dreaming of Suzie to boot, and that had me up most of the night.

  ­♥­

  The next morning Jake wasn’t on the bus. I was still angry at him but couldn’t help but worry. That made me angrier. I wished I didn’t care at all. Sam saw the open seat next to me and took it. I don’t know if I was grateful for that or not.

  “Where’s Jake?” he asked as the bus lurched forward.

  “Don’t know, don’t care,” I said, staring out the window.

  “Sure turned cold last night. We might get snow soon.”

  “Yep.” He didn’t have to tell me, I froze my angry ass off all night long. I decided to see if I had enough money for a couple of small room heaters.

  “So, are you doing anything for Halloween?”

  Besides taping a note to the door that says, ‘No Candy’ and going to bed early…

  “No. Not really.”

  “That’s too bad. Maybe we should try to plan something. Me, you, Jake and Suzie.”

  I turned to him with some razor sharp words at the ready. They faded away when I saw him, hopeful and trying. He had no idea what was going on with me and Jake. It wasn’t his fault.

  He wasn’t bad looking at all. He had dark hair like Jake an
d blue eyes too. Not as bright as Jakes, they were more of a dull, matte blue. With wide shoulders and long arms, he could be a football player I guess, but his whole demeanor gave off the impression that he’d look more natural at Rugby or Lacrosse. My anger subsided and even thought the last thing I wanted to do was be a part of this misfit club, I nodded. “Maybe.”

  We pulled up to school and I waited for everyone to get off the bus. I already had a headache.

  “Can I walk you inside?” he asked. I shrugged and had to consciously remind myself not to do the angry walk all day. It didn’t help that I had the overwhelming feeling that I was done with this place. I never felt like a kid, never did the stupid things kids do and yet I was forced to be around them every day, with their petty kid worries and juvenile attitudes. We broke off at the intersection of two hallways. “See you at lunch?” he asked, eyebrows raised with a pleasant smile.

  “I’m probably not eating lunch today.”

  “Oh. Where will you be?”

  I shrugged. “Around.”

  “Okay, well, I’ll see you around.” He smiled and turned away.

  “Great,” I whispered as I watched him walk away. I knew a crush when I saw it. Thing is, I don’t think I’d mind if it weren’t for Jake. With all his cryptic questions and insistence on putting Suzie’s puppy love on display for the world to see. All the jerk had to say was that he wouldn’t let her get in between us. That he would still make time for me. That I would always be his best friend and would always come first. I started down the hall as the bell rang. “Stupid boys,” I grumbled.

  ­♥­

  As I feared, Suzie Q was snuggled up next to Jake at lunch. I walked by the table without a word, wrapped up my food, and stuffed it in my backpack. Hard as I tried to ignore them, I was magnetically drawn to look over and I cursed them, and my eyes, as they did.

  They sat shoulder to shoulder, her having scooted closer to him, I noticed, and every other bite, she giggled, smiled, squeezed his arm and put her head on his shoulder.

 

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