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Her eyes filled with tears, and she shook her he
ad.
“I couldn’t help it.”
“Me neither. I can’t help it, either,” I said. “Go have something else to eat. Maybe they’ll take you in the circus some day,” I spit at her and walked away.
She closed the door behind me. I was sure she would be trembling all day and what she would try to do now was call everyone she knew and explain what happened. That, I thought, would create more problems for her, because I really didn’t intend to bother talking to Charlotte Lily. I couldn’t care less if she had any friends or not, but once she started to talk about it, they would wonder why she was being so defensive and that would be just as effective.
I left for the supermarket and arrived there about twenty minutes later. Mr. Ritter made me wait for nearly as long and then finally called me into his office.
“Well,” he said, “I try not to hire anyone with a history that would make me think twice about having them around money in my store, but I’m going to make an exception with you. You have a good friend in Cory Lewis,” he added. “I hope you appreciate that.”
It took all my effort to smile and swallow down the words I wanted to say, but I did and nodded.
“Even so, I want you to understand you’re on probation here, a test of sorts. I don’t expect you to ever, ever be late for work, understand? The floor manager, Tammy Carol Allen, will show you around, describe your exact duties, and tell you when you take a break and what’s expected of you. Don’t come here wearing makeup like a clown or wearing anything that might be inappropriate. You don’t smoke in the store, and I don’t want to see you chewing and cracking gum in your mouth, hear?”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
“Always be clean-looking and neat. People expect to see the employees looking that way. We’re handling food here. Never sass a customer, no matter what. You’re always polite and helpful. We pride ourselves on service. Always be sure to ask if the customer wants assistance with his or her packages, hear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay, I have your information on the application you filled out. You go see Tammy Carol and she’ll give you your assignment. Mind,” he said when I stood up and turned to go, “you break any of my rules, there’s no second chance. You’re out. Hear?”
I wanted to say I hear fine, but I just gave him a plastic smile and nodded.
He kept his stern face, and I left.
Tammy Carol was a woman in her late twenties who looked ten to fifteen years older. She was the sort of person who enjoyed even an iota of authority. She let me know that on the floor, she was God, Jesus, and the Holy Ghost. She made me stand and observe other grocery packers for nearly half an hour before giving me a shopping center apron and assigning me to a cashier.
“You be sure to ask paper or plastic before you start,” she emphasized. “And you smile until your face hurts.”
I was tempted to say, “I guess yours never does, then,” but I nodded again and put on the apron.
All the while I kept one thought at the top of my mind: You’re doing this to be free. As soon as you can, you will be gone and this won’t even be a memory.
I wished I could treat the rest of my past life the same way and yet still have a future. Those who saw no tomorrow for themselves, I realized, would be forever stuck in their yesterdays.
That wasn’t going to happen to me.
11
The Best-Laid Plans
Whenever there was a lull in the supermarket, Tammy Carol was right behind me, assigning me to other duties, which included washing down the freezer areas, mopping floors, and stacking canned goods. Everything I was told to do, I was told as though it was as important as doing brain surgery. The cans had to be turned just so. The mop had to be moved from right to left in perfect squares. When I wiped down the glass cases, I had to use a circular motion, not making my circles too large or too small. I could feel her breathing over my shoulder, making sure I did it as she instructed, and from time to time, Mr. Ritter appeared to scrutinize my work.
It was constantly on the tip of my tongue to tell them where they could put this job, but I swallowed back the urge to scream and kept my plastic smile until it did exactly what Tammy Carol predicted it might: hurt.
Finally, it was quitting time. Mr. Ritter was there at the front door to watch me leave.
“You’ve passed muster this first day,” he said. “If you behave yourself accordingly, we’ll get along fine and you will work here for the remainder of the summer. If you’re really good, I might consider you for weekend work once you return to school,” he added as another incentive. He spoke down to me as if he was on a high throne and I was kneeling at his feet.
“Thank you,” I said.
I didn’t realize how tired I was until I was outside, walking to the bus stop. And then, as if my body wanted to take revenge on me for what I had put it through all day, I felt cramps beginning and realized I had forgotten the time of the month and I hadn’t brought any protection along with me, not even thinking about it when I passed the sanitary napkins and tampons on the store shelves earlier. I was in a small panic that grew more and more intense as the bus made stop after stop on its way to my station. By the time I arrived, I felt the beginning of staining and hurried out, practically running down the aisle.
I was surprised that Mother darling and Cory were home. I didn’t know that they weren’t starting this gig at their new and better place until later in the evening. They were now the principal act, and that meant they wouldn’t begin until about ten. When I came charging through the door, they both looked up in surprise.
