He double-checked
Diamond Girl
’s lines and said, “Good job there, matey!” Then he stuck out his hand and said, “Keith!”
I shook it and said, “Perry.”
Then he farted twice really loud and walked across the parking lot to Holsted’s. I followed him because my lunch break was over. The next day he started working at Holsted’s. I like Keith. He is my friend.
I have Gram’s ashes with me. Her wooden urn stays on the bottom shelf of my bedside table. My books are on top and she is underneath. It is like us being together again, but she does not talk out loud. She is only in my head now.
My life is different with Gram gone. I do not go to bingo anymore on Tuesdays. I have no one to play with because Keith does not like bingo. I only asked him to go once.
“You want to go to bingo, Keith?”
“Stick needles in my eye, Per! Go inside a Catholic church? Not on your life!” That is what Keith says when he really does not want to do something. He says he would rather have needles in his eye. I just say okay.
I go to Gilly’s, Marina Handy Mart, and KFC. I do not go to the movies. I would have to take a bus and it is hard to choose which movie to see, so I stay home. On Sunday morning, I wake up early, walk to Marina Handy Mart, and get a paper and box of powdered-sugar doughnuts or cinnamon rolls. It gives me a chance to see Cherry. When I get home, I sit upstairs and watch out my window until Keith wakes up. If he wants me to come over, he will wave. Then we will sit together in his cockpit and eat cinnamon rolls or doughnuts. It does not matter if it is cold or raining. I feed seagulls pieces of my doughnut, which makes Keith mad.
“Jesus, Per! Don’t encourage the little shits!” He throws empty beer cans at them, but never hits any because aluminum beer cans are too light. They end up in the water and he has to get a net with a long handle and scoop them up out of the Sound so the harbormaster doesn’t get pissed off.
“Don’t feed them, Per!” he says. “Please?”
“Okay.” I like seagulls except when they crap on things. Their crap is powerful and can corrode paint off a car.
“See what happened to Yo? That’s all from seagull shit!” Keith says.
“I didn’t know bird crap could rot, rust, and dent trucks. I think that is amazing,” I say.
“Don’t be smart, Per!” Keith sounds just like Gram, and I laugh.
I do not have to share the Sunday paper at home, because Keith is not interested in the newspaper except for sports. That makes me sad because I like to share. It takes me all week to read the paper. Gram used to say I got my money’s worth. Getting your money’s worth is funny. I mean, you mostly get something for money, except maybe when you sell a house.
Cherry works the register at Marina Handy Mart. She has a pretty smile and a beautiful face. I like to take my time and visit on Sundays. It is hard not to stare. Sometimes there is lipstick on her teeth, but it is rude to tell her that. You can only look and wish she would take her fingernail and peel it off.
“I’m sorry about your Gram,” she says, and plays with the silver ball on her tongue. Cherry looks sorry. I hear her click the stud against her teeth. Gram would always make her laugh. She would call her Apple or Banana for fun.
“That’s what you get for having fruit as a name!” Gram would cackle and Cherry would giggle.
But Gram is not here.
“Give me five Lotto tickets and a Slurpee, please.” I set a bag of Hershey’s Kisses on the counter. I do not pick up the
Enquirer.
“Don’t you want the paper?” Cherry’s hair is very colorful. It is green and blue stripes with brown.
“No.” My throat is tight and my eyes fill with water like from sad movies.
“You can do the puzzle, you know. It might make you feel better,” she says. Her eyes are dark brown like a seal except they are not wet.
“Okay, then.” I have a hard time getting words out of my mouth.
“Cherry is a very nice girl,” Gram would say. “Even though she has earrings all over her face and tattoos up her butt!”
Nice is when you look like you mean the things you say. I do not think Cherry has tattoos up her butt. She has a flower on her shoulder, a cat on one arm, and a chain thing around her ankle. Cherry told me the only one that hurt was the one on her foot. That is because it was on bone.
“The ones that hurt are close to the bone,” she says.
Being without Gram is close to the bone, I think. I want to stay and talk to Cherry, but I do not know what to say. There are other people in line, so I leave. I pretend that Gram is walking along with me so I do not get lonely. I imagine her just behind.
“Come on, Gram,” I say. “Hurry up. We need to get home.”
It is hard to turn around and see that she is not there.
Like bone, I think.
I check my lottery tickets on Sunday. When no numbers match, I throw the tickets into the trash. I work on the crossword for six days straight. I get three answers, but it is harder without Gram. I answer seven down, three down, and two across.
Downs are always easier than acrosses. Crossword puzzles are difficult when there is no one to help. Most things in life are difficult, Gram used to say.
Everything is harder without Gram.
I ran out of milk for my oatmeal, so I wanted to go to QFC grocery store. My bus pass was no good and I did not have exact change. I rode my bike to Marina Handy Mart instead, even though it was raining hard. I bought milk, a can of SpaghettiOs, and bread.
Handy Mart is more expensive and SpaghettiOs are not as good as Saturday night spaghetti like Gram, Keith, and I used to make. Cherry was not working at the counter, so I did not stay to talk. I hooked the plastic bags on the handlebars of my bike and they swung and hit my knees all the way back to my apartment.
11
I still have to do my wash on Wednesdays, but it is only my clothes and not Gram’s. I only have two small loads. I used to do four loads. I would have sheets, towels, Gram’s underwear, and her pajamas. Those are the whites. My shirts, jeans, and Gram’s dresses are the darks. Thinking of this makes me sad, so I have to cry again.
Gram said it was very important to have the dark clothes together and the white ones separate so they do not run or change colors. Gram taught me. The first time I washed clothes, I accidentally put her red top with my underpants.
“Goddamn, Perry! All your underwear’s pink! So are my bras. Well, that’s okay. I don’t mind pink bras, but you better start growing or you’re going to wear pink underwear for a long, long time. We can’t afford to buy new,” and Gram made me keep them until I needed the next larger size. After that, we used them for rags. Pink underwear is definitely not cool and I would have been embarrassed if anybody found out.
I stayed in my pajamas and put all my other clothes into the washer. I dumped soap in, turned the dial, and closed the lid. It was bathroom-cleaning day. At Gram’s house on days off, I always cleaned the bathroom and Gram did the kitchen floor. Now I have to do all the chores. It takes a long time.
The first thing I do is clean the shower with Comet. It is all scratchy on the tile and my back gets sore. I am scrubbing the toilet bowl with a brush when I hear BANG! CRASH! CRASH! I run into the hall. There is soapy water all over the floor. I slip and fall on my butt and slide all the way to my bedroom. It hurts. I hit my arm on the door. I crawl on my hands and knees and have to use all my clean towels to mop it up. The washer is still leaking and I turn it off quick so it does not explode and kill me.
It is a very bad day.
My pajama bottoms are soaked. I must have made a lot of noise because Keith and Gary come running upstairs and bang on my door. I hear their voices so I know who it is. I am embarrassed, all dripping wet, and covered with Comet and laundry soap. I do not want to answer their knocks, but it is rude to pretend you are not home. I open the door and tell them what happened.
“My clothes are dirty. The washer is broken. There’s water all over the floor. I have nothing to wear. Gram is dead and there’s no one to help me.”
I cannot stop crying and get the hiccups. My eyes are swollen shut and I cannot see. Gary goes into my kitchen and brings me back a glass of water. He makes me sit on the couch and hands me a paper towel to wipe my face. Paper towels are rough and they hurt. It is better to use toilet paper, but I do not tell him that. It would hurt his feelings.
“Have you had anything to eat?” Keith asks. He looks around at the mess in my apartment. I am ashamed at my dirty place. My elbow throbs and my knee prickles.
“No,” I tell him. That is the truth. I forgot to buy my cereal.
Keith is my friend. He goes down to his boat and brings me back a Snickers candy bar and a navy blue sweatshirt and pair of jeans. Gary finds Gramp’s old belt in my drawer. Keith’s pants are too big for me. They drag on the floor, but I do not care. He helps throw my wet laundry in the back of Yo and drives me to Nick’s Laundromat. He keeps me company and we eat Cheetos while my laundry washes and dries. He even helps me fold everything.
“You let me know when you need help like this. You hear, Per?” Keith has to clear his throat three times.
“You getting a cold, Keith?” I ask.
“No, Per.”
He tells me it’s going to take a while for me to adjust. “Gary and I will be here to help you. Call us. Okay?”
Adjust means that you have to change because things are different. When things are different, even though you do not like them, you have to adjust. This is true.
Gary ordered a new washer-dryer from Sears and had them take the old ones away. The new one is tall and white. The dryer is on top and the washer part is on the bottom. It is a Kenmore and I know how to make it work.
“Hey, Keith! Can I wash your clothes? I can wash your clothes.” This is my first good idea since Gram died.
“Yeah, that would be great, Per. Thanks!” He smiles and gives me a pat on the back.
Now we are both happy.
I guess I just needed to wash more than just my own clothes to not be so sad. Gary gives me all the rags and towels from Holsted’s to clean too. I have lots of clothes to wash now. I can pretend they are Gram’s except there are no dresses, just big dirty jeans, extra large T-shirts, and stained, stretched-out men’s underpants.
Gram would never have been caught dead in men’s underwear.
But that’s okay.
Life goes on
. Gram’s voice is in my ear.
Cherry chews gum, blows bubbles, and makes a snapping sound. I lean against the Handy Mart counter and spread my things out in front of her so she can ring them up. I like to take my time when Cherry is working. She has dimples on her elbows. That is so cool.
"No PayDay?” she asks. Cherry remembers everything I buy.
“No. I have to watch my pennies now,” I say. That is what Gram always said. Watching your pennies means you cannot spend too much on extra things like PayDay candy bars and big bags of Hershey’s Kisses.
The utility company sent me the last electric bill from the house. It was $216.94. John mailed it and wrote a letter saying that it was my responsibility because Gram and I were the last ones who lived there. It took almost half my check from Holsted’s.
“Watch out, Perry! They electrocute people for less! If your bill’s late they shock you!” Manuel whispered this in my ear. Most of the time he lies, so I am not sure. I did not want to make the electric company mad.
The bill from Gram’s ambulance ride was $1,198.32. They told me to send what I could, so I talked to Gary. He helped me figure it out. I mail them a check for fifty-six dollars and twenty-eight cents each month. It is still an unexpected expense. This means I can run out of money before my next check if I am not careful.
“What do David and John say? Can’t they give you a hand?” Gary asked. He helped me fill out all the papers for the ambulance company.
“It is my responsibility,” I say.
“Use some of your savings, Perry. You do have savings, don’t you?” he asks.
I do not talk about my savings account.
“Gram said it’s for my future.” I cannot use it for electric bills.
“Your future is now!” Gary sputters when he is excited. I can tell he does not understand Gram’s rules. She was ahead of him on my list. Even dead, she comes first. It is very important to have rules and save for the future.
I like to buy the
Enquirer
now because it reminds me of Gram, and that is important. It is only seventy-five cents. That is not quite a dollar. I buy a tuna sandwich from Marina Handy Mart because it is cheaper than Gilly’s fake crab. I buy five Lotto tickets because Gram would want me to. I buy a much smaller bag of Hershey’s Kisses. I save them as treats and only eat them when I miss Gram too much. I have to make them last a long time because there are lots of times I miss her, like on bingo nights or when I walk past KFC.
Cherry puts everything in a plastic bag for me. Her fingernails are interesting. They have little pictures of animals on them.
“I do them myself with a kit from the drugstore. You like them?” Cherry wriggles them in front of me. She makes them dance on the counter. One is a zebra. It has teeny, tiny stripes. “So where’s your friend, Keith?” she asks.
“At work.” I know he will be by later for beer. Cherry knows this too, but she always asks where he is. I try to think of something else to say. “Your fingers are cool. Is it hard to do?”
“Nah . . . It’s easy. You just paste them on. Well, you tell Keith hi from me. Okay?” She snaps her gum.
The door whooshes shut as I leave to go back to work. It is a busy day. We have another shipment to unload. After I eat my sandwich, I put my sack under the counter. Manuel pulls it out during break and tosses it into the trash.