Saturday, December 15, 2012

Generation 1.2

Debbie awoke the next morning with a terrible gnawing in her belly. "They sure as hell better  let me eat lunch for free!" Climbing out of her temporary shelter, she noticed light flakes of snow slowly falling around her. "Geez, I hope it warms up soon." With a shiver, she turns at the sound of a horn honking nearby.

A dowdy woman about her age waves her over. Confused, Debbie slow jogs over to the car. The woman rolls down the window. "Are you Deborah Kliene?" Debbie nods her head. "Yea, but everyone calls me Debbie. Did my Mom send you? Because if she did, you can just turn around and-" The woman breaks into laughter. "I was not sent by your Mother. The school hired me to assure that you are on time for your first day." Feeling awkward, Debbie utters a soft, "Oh," in response. "Get in, its cold out there!"
  
"So, a playground monitor, huh? Brave woman." Debbie turns to judge whether the woman is being funny or sincere. Thinking of all the demanding photographers, quirky make-up artists, and annoying assistants she has dealt with in her time as a model, she snickers. "It's nothing I can't handle." The car fills with a heavy silence. Thankfully, they pull into the school parking lot. As Debbie pulls the handle to get out, the woman leans over. "My name's Cindy, by the way. And I am at your service for as long as you need me. To get you to and from work only, though." Debbie nods, takes a deep breath, and enters the building.
  
"Well, your methods WERE a little unorthodox but you had the children's safety at heart, I know it." Debbie can only force a smile and nod as her boss, the same lady from the diner, goes on about her first day as playground monitor. She had had an incident with one of the boys bullying a smaller girl. She didn't realize tying a kid to a tree was so bad. "So, um, well ... I think Mr McDermott knew Travis was getting out of hand anyway. In my honest opinion, he should be thanking you." Oh my God, does this woman ever shut up?! 

"Eww, gross! Haven't you ever heard of a bath?" Laurel taunted. Debbie turned toward the girl. "You know what's 'eww'? Your choice in clothing and your hair. I mean, really, do you even own a mirror? Maybe you should see about some plastic surgery too, you-" June, her boss, grabs her arm hard and shoos the high school-er away. "You really need to work on your charisma skills, Sweetie. Look, I know you are in a bad way. Why don't you follow me to my place, you can spend the night. Get a hot meal and an equally hot shower. Sleep in a real bed. What do you say?"
  
Like June had to ask twice. Debbie got directions and promised to be there soon. She located Cindy in the parking lot to beg a ride to June's. Unfortunately, she wound up having to walk. "Glad you could make it. You found the house OK?" Debbie nodded as she watched some hot Fabio-looking guy walk out of June's house with a kid in a stroller. Smirking, Debbie winked at June. "So this is why you and Tom are talking divorce? He's hot." June turns as Yuri waves goodbye and starts to put his son into his car. Her face flaming, June starts to march inside without another word.

"Look, things are just strained between me and Tom right now. I don't need you spreading any rumors that I am ... am ... doing anything wrong. My son, Dallas, babysits for money. Yuri and his wife both work so it was a blessing for them, really." Debbie shakes her head. "I won't say anything, I mean, you are being so kind to me right now. But there is no way in hell you can tell me that he stops by JUST to pick up his son." June's face turns a deeper shade of red. "Let's just see about some dinner, shall we?"

Oh, yes! I want to make love to you, hot water! Debbie continues to moan her enjoyment as the hot water streams down her body. Although the bath soap smells of cheap flowers, she is just happy to be genuinely clean. When the water starts to run cold, she reluctantly turns the spray nozzle off. June knocks on the door with an offer to run Deb's clothes through the washer. Awkwardly, she hands her clothes through the door. "We have a guest room right next to the bathroom here. So don't worry about anyone seeing you in your undergarments. 

Debbie walks into the room and the first thing she can think of is that the person who decorated this room must have been color blind! "Who would match that ugly mauve pattern on the bedspread to the shit-brown on the walls?" she wonders aloud. Shaking her head, she feels the sheets. Cheap cotton. Oh well, much better than the ground, I guess.
The next morning, she gets woke up by a screaming of a teenage girl. Apparently, the girl believes her brother has had enough time in the bathroom and now it's her turn. Sighing, Debbie drags herself out of bed to find that June has folded her clothes and put them on the dresser. She is a very sweet woman. When she makes her way downstairs, it is to find that everyone else has already left. A note is left by the coffeepot:
  Please, help yourself 
to some coffee and 
 feel free to grab 
something to eat. 
See you at work, June.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

June turns out to be a bigger help than Debbie realized. First, she offers to co-sign for a loan and helps Deb get a decent sized lot just across from where June's own home. Then June coaches Debbie in the use of charisma, which Deb used in convincing the museum to donate her the igloo. All in all, things are looking up.

But work takes a toll on the ex-party girl. It isn't long before Debbie has to break free.
"I dug my key into the side ... of ... *mumbling* four wheel drive ... *mumbles* seeeaaaat!" The few people at the Karaoke club moan and walk off as Debbie tries to finish out the song. Well into her cup, she doesn't even realize she has blown almost her whole paycheck.

Suddenly, her cell vibrates. Chuckling to herself, Debbie fumbles in her pocket, trying to retrieve it. "Prolly just June, checking in again. She's been so worried ... since I found out about her affair with Yuri." Giggling at her own joke, she tries to one-eye-read the message. When she notices it's from Adam, she quickly sobers.
Got a house. 
You should see it. 
Text me back.  

"I don't need him!" Debbie yells at her phone. The bartender pretends he doesn't notice her erratic behavior. Debbie, feeling silly for talking to an inanimate object, shoves the phone back into her pocket. She walks over to the bar and leans over, flashing a screw-me grin, "How bout you fix me another drink. And make it strong ... so it hits me hard."

"Damn, damn, damn!" Debbie lets her curses fill the air as she tries to light the fire pit in front of her igloo. "Should have just taken the guy up on his offer. Traded a good screw," a hiccup escapes forcefully from Debbie's throat. With the fire lit, she takes a moment to warm her hands. "A good screw for a warm bed. Not a bad idea. I need to ... sit for a minute." Plopping on her backside, Debbie lets the alcohol pull her into closing her eyes. "Stupid Adam, getting into my head," she mumbles as she starts to pass out. Should get inside my igloo, she thinks before completely losing consciousness.

The next day was not well received by Debbie. She woke up with a splitting headache and chills. Making her way to the gym, where she has been habitually sneaking in to shower, she proceeds to throw up. Carelessly tossing her clothes on the floor of the dressing room, Debbie climbs into a shower stall, turns the heat full blast, then slides down to the floor. "I hate me, right now."

Finally pulling herself from the shower, she pulls out her cell and calls in sick. Its so hard to explain, since the gym is right next door. But they give her the day without pay. Feeling like maybe she should put something in her stomach, she gets dressed and heads outside to find the food truck. "That'll be eight dollars, Miss." Debbie reaches into her pocket and pulls out a five dollar bill. "No, that can't be it!" Feeling in each pocket, she finds nothing more. "Sorry, you will have to move along, Miss."

Feeling dejected she ambles across the street to sit on a bench. What to do, what to do? She questions herself. A fog was drifting over her, maybe from the fever or the lack of real sustenance. Either way, she knew she needed a safe place to stay with someone she could trust. Sighing heavily  she stands up. A wave of dizziness nearly knocks her on her ass. She uses the speed dial and grips the phone tightly. "Adam?"

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Generation 1.1

 "Well this is just great," Debbie mumbled to herself. Giving the double doors another pull in case they were just stuck, Debbie sighed and pressed her hands against the glass door to peer inside. Damn it, not a soul in sight. Turning around, Debbie started to tug at her gloves and sleeves to cover her chilled skin. "Now what?" she wondered as her breath puffed in front of her. Looking around, she noticed light was beaming on to the sidewalk a few blocks down.

Patting her arms to keep warm, she set off towards the welcoming light. As she got closer, she realized it was a library. Wright Reading Room was written on the sign out front. Carefully navigating the snow-covered stairs, Debbie made her way to the front door. A small sign to the right of the door declared a librarian was on duty only from the hours of 9 am to 5 pm, Monday through Friday. A twenty-four hour library?
   
 Pressing down the latch, Debbie felt a sigh of relief escape her lips as it effortlessly swung open. It smelled of new books as well as a light scent of lemon from a spray cleaner or something. "So drab and ordinary," she said aloud to the empty room. Shrugging her shoulders, Debbie began looking for a sofa or a plush chair to sleep in. Finding nothing suitable, she pulled off her sweater and jacket, balled them up and laid out on the floor by the computers. I hope you're happy, Adam. This million simoleon model is sleeping on the floor!

 The next morning, Debbie woke up with a pain in her neck and a small child staring intently into her face. "Why are you sleeping on the floor, Lady?" Feeling groggy and sore, Debbie answered with the full brunt of her diva attitude, "Because I'm a prideful bitch, that's why!" Hearing the kid cry for his mother made Debbie groan inwardly. Pulling her outer garments back on, she walked out of the library and hailed a cab.

"Oh God, what would my own mother say right now?"
Looking up at the imposing school in front of her, Debbie questioned her sanity once again. She'd had the taxi driver drop her off at the cheapest eating place in town. For $12, she stuffed herself with eggs, bacon, something called grits, toast, and two glasses of orange juice. While plowing through the plate of food, she had overheard a tall woman with dark hair talking to the waitress behind the counter. "Well, it's not like they have to have experience. We just need someone with a lot of patience to watch over the kids while they are on the playground, you know?" 
  
So Debbie went with impulse, something that has never steered her wrong in the past. She paid her tab and hopped another taxi to the Truelong Community School. Upon entering, she felt the apprehension slide along her skin. A dour-faced woman with horn rimmed glasses looked up from behind a tall counter. "Can I help you, Ma'am?" And just like that, she had a job! Thinking that living in the "real world", as Adam had called it, wasn't as hard as he made it out to be, Debbie sat herself contentedly on the school bench. Minutes later, she was curled up - fast asleep. 

 Debbie awoke to the sound of a distant ringing of the school bell. Feelings tiff and cold, she sat up and stretched. She smiled as she grabbed the nearest swing and started to push herself. Soon, some Pre-School aged children were running for the playground, making her cringe inside. Rolling her eyes, she pushed herself up and wandered over to where teachers were milling about. "Hi, I'm Debbie, I'm the new hire for playground monitor." She smiled and tossed her hair, waiting for one of the old spinster-looking women to recognize her from her many magazine covers. "That's nice dear, but I am pretty sure you don't start util Wednesday." 
   
Still feeling the embarrassment of being talked down to by an old hag and peeved that no one in this dingy town has even recognized her, Debbie started to walk aimlessly down the cleared sidewalks. "Damn old crap!" Bing, bing! "Work, darn you!" Fwack! Looking up, Debbie saw she was passing what appeared to be a scrap yard. An old man was hammering away at an old broken down lawn mower. She decided to push on past until she saw the sign: $2 per pound of salvaged scrap. Fingering the crumpled bills and change in her pocket, she crossed the street and entered the fence to introduce herself to the old guy.

"It's easy, he says. Take no time at all, he says" Debbie continued mumbling under her breath as she pulled this and that out of the heap of scrap. Pulling out a long pipe, she turned it over in her hand. "How do you tell if it's copper or iron or steel? And why the hell does it matter?" Sighing, she throws it behind her and leans in to pull out more. After two hours, she dusts her hands off and presses a hand to the small of her back. God, I would kill for a deep tissue massage right now!

 "That brings you up to ... five pounds, Missy." Debbie's mouth drops open. "Are you frickin' kidding me?! I KNOW that pile is heavier than five pounds. No way did I spend two hours digging all that out for a lousy ten simoleons." She crosses her arms and gives him her best diva look, waiting for him to cave under her tantrum. "You can take it or leave it, Honey. My scale says five pounds, and that's what it is. Now, if you were wanting some real simoleons, old Melvin here likes perty girls. Like at the club, you just shake it nice and..." Slap! "You disgusting old cur!" Debbie snatches the ten simoleons out of his hand and stomps off in search of a second hand store.

 "Sorry, but that's the price it's selling for." Debbie is so frustrated, she could cry! "A used sleeping bag is $100?! Can't you please just take the $96 I have and I promise to get you the rest the day after tomorrow. I'm so tired, I just need something to keep me from freezing to death. That's all." Tom, as he introduced himself as, shrugged while the bimbo next to him pretended to ignore Debbie. "Here, let me show you a few things." He came around the counter and led her to some shelves near the back.  
   
"Look, I'm sorry I can't help you out. But I'll tell you what I can do. I usually hold my book club here after the store closes. You can crash on the couch until we are finished with the meeting, which is around nine. OK?" She gave him her best knock-em-dead smile, "Thank you so much. I really appreciate your kindness." Stripping her sweater and jacket off, she laid down on the sofa that was for sale in the front window. It seemed only minutes later when suddenly she is being shaken awake. "It's time to get going, sleepy head." For a moment, she thinks it's Adam shaking her and she smiles softly. Then, realizing she's in a ghastly consignment shop, she wrinkles her nose. 

"If you're hungry and you have a few bucks, the Lucky Seven sells some great hot wings for cheap." She grimaces at the thought of eating with pot-bellied sports fanatics and pool hustlers. "Thanks, I'll give them a try." Tom was nice enough to even drop her off. If he hadn't spent the whole time lamenting his impending divorce and how much he wished his wife would reconsider, she might have thought he was hitting on her. Either way, the joint was still open and looked well cared for. "An order of wings, please."

Thirty minutes later, the scattered-brain waitress plops Debbie's cold wings in front of her. "Better hurry up and eat dat, Sugar, we be closing in a few." She leaned down to wipe up the counter where she just made her last drink. "But I ordered these thirty minutes ago! No way can you expect me to just leave.." Suddenly, the lights go out. "We closin', People. Get yo asses out!" Some of the guys in the back start laughing and making cat calls at the waitress. "You too, Sugar." Debbie looks down at her untouched food. "Can I at least get a to-go box or something?" She starts shaking her head. "We don't got fancies like dat 'round here. Now off with yo skinny ass!" Debbie pulls on her jacket once again and stumbles to the door.

I haven't slept for more than a few hours off and on, haven't eaten anything since breakfast at five this morning, I've had a old man insult me, been embarrassed by a school-marm, been given a kindness by a hot man  that was short lived, and now I am being kicked out of a bar by a sassy black woman. I want to give up! She pulls out her cell phone and was two seconds from hitting the speed dial for Bee when a familiar voice call out. "Deborah Marie Kliene!" Oh my word, it's Adam!

 "So it's true." Adam bursts into laughter. "Oh Deb, I can't believe how incredibly stubborn you are." I feel my face turning red as he quiets down. "Look, we both said some things the other night in anger that we regret. At least, I know I did. Come, on, baby, let's call a truce. Maybe talk some things out, I could explain why.." Debbie's top explodes and all her anger comes pouring out! "Hell no! Don't you come here with your smooth talk and try to coddle me and put me back on that shelf where you think I am only good for looking at."

"Some of what you said was true, I do rely on others to get me through. But that doesn't mean I am useless, Adam! I already have a job which, I might add, I got on my OWN. So don't come here trying to put things back the way they were. If you want me, you need to respect me." She takes a deep breath. She can feel her heart racing, trying to anticipate what is going to come out of his mouth.

"Debbie, I never ... I mean, I have always lo...I can't put my thoughts into words. Baby, I do respect you, I always have. I know first hand the crap you have to deal with on a daily basis. I never meant you should throw it all away. I am a simple man and had hoped you would see the joys of living a simple life. But, your remark shot me and my ...um, plans ...out of the sky. I don't know. Sometimes I think we are worlds apart." She balls her hands into fists as his words cut through her shield. He has always been the only one who could ever hurt her like this. It sort of scares her.

"Look, if you need to do this to prove to me, to yourself, that you can do it, then fine. I won't interfere. But I won't give up on us either. If you are going to eek it out here, well damn it, so will I!" She doesn't know what to say. She can't just take him back and move on! She realizes that she needs to prove something to herself, more than anyone else. I'm so confused! "Well good luck to you, Deb. So ... see you around, I guess." She can only nod and watch as he tucks his hands into his jacket and walks away.

I have no idea what I am doing. Debbie's mind keeps replaying her recent arguments with Adam, reliving moments of them together in the apartment in Bridgeport, looking for clues as to what he is really feeling. Shaking her head, she mumbles to herself, "Need to worry about the immediate right now. I have work tomorrow and no where to lay my head." That's when she notices the igloo exhibit. Smirking, she sneaks over the ropes and crawls inside. It is warm and draft free. "It'll do for the night," she tells herself, then falls right to sleep.

Sunday, December 2, 2012

Prologue


 "It's so frickin' cold!" I whisper to myself. Trying to keep my hands warm, I start rubbing them together while looking back at the closed restaurant behind me. Adam is either being held hostage by the decrepit old lady that let us use the bathroom or he is having one hellavah long piss. We still have two more hours in his truck before we even hit the hotel. Where the crap is he?!  


 "Y'all come back, now, " I hear the old woman say as Adam walks out. "Oh, we definitely will ... when you're open!" They both laugh at his corny little joke. Here I am freezing my ass off and he's over there making stupid jokes with strange old ladies. Even worse, he walks right by me to stare out at the quiet little country road. I hear him inhale deeply, "Isn't this place beautiful, Deb?"


I snicker at his sarcasm. "Funny. It's what, ten o'clock? Everyone's tucked in bed, not a single joint is hoppin' nor a street performer in sight. We'd be bored within a day." Thinking about a hot bath in a huge hot tub in our suite, I give an exaggerated stretch. "Well, I guess we should get going," I begin but Adam whirls around and I can see anger on his face. "People is this kind of place are friendly and know each other by name! You see a po-dunk town and can't wait to wipe it's dirt from your hundred dollar shoes. And why? Because there's no one here to entertain you?!"     


For a second, I am taken back by the anger in Adam's voice. But I feel myself working up a real mad. "Excuse me?! You think being a model is easy? That having a famous mother was a stroll in the park? I went through my own version of hell growing up so excuse me for feeling entitled. And in case you forgot, you have been riding on my coattails since I began and I have never heard you complain before. Damn it, Adam, we are on our way to YOUR parent's house in YOUR Godawful truck instead of taking the limo. Haven't I conceded enough?"   


My heat is up and I am ready for this fight. He turns back to me and leans in, "You didn't even want to come in the first place. Admit it!" I turn to look away because I knew it to be the truth. "Yea, that's what I thought. Can't let Miss Super Model be seen living it up with her repairman-boyfriend's family!" 


"Never mind the fact that you thought my truck was sexy when we first started dating. And I don't care that it's not new. I worked my ass off just for the down payment and I won't be ashamed of it and it's non-working heater just because you have suddenly turned into an uppity bitch!"
   

 I threw my hands up in his face to make him shut-up. "Whoa, there. Wait just one damned minute! Bitch? Really, you just went there?" I fling my arms out and look up at the sky as I try to get words from my brain and into my mouth. "This is what I get for dating a common grease-monkey. My friends told me that you would always be jealous of me and my money, now I see it was the truth." I glared intently as I waited for him to respond. 


"Truth? You want truth? Here it is, Sweetheart. You wouldn't last a day out in the real world without your famous Mother and your trust fund millions. You're just a spoiled little brat who'd go crying as soon as things got rough. And you know what? Screw this! I don't have to put up with you thinking you are better than me OR your little tantrums anymore. I'll go my parent's house ALONE." He turns and starts walking back to the parking lot.


"Adam, what the hell do you think you are doing?" I ask but I get no response. He's not really going to leave me here. He's just trying to prove a point. "AAAArrrggghhh!!!!" My scream echoes off the walls of the surrounding buildings. 


He stops and turns his head slightly. I knew he wouldn't leave me. I try to hide my triumphant smile. "Perhaps you don't want the same things as me. Perhaps ... I want too much, Deb. Either way, call your agent, let her come rescue you. It's what you always do anyway." My mouth drops open as he turns to cross the street. I watch in shock as he opens the truck door and climbs in. He looks at me one last time, cranks the truck and peels out of the parking lot.


Bastard! How can he just leave me like this? Wait until I get Bee on the phone, I am going to make his life miserable as soon as she comes .... she comes to ... wait. Damn it, I hate that he had me pegged!

I hate that he left me. A pain starts to radiate from my chest and creates a heavy sensation in my belly. I feel a prickling sensation in my nose as tears well up in my eyes.


"NO!" I yell at myself, I will not cry about him nor what he said. A plan starts to form in my mind. I will prove to him I am not some diva who can't make it on her own. I'll show him!


It took a LOT of convincing on my part to get Bee to agree to my terms, but in the end she was eager to help. Bee promised to ship some of my clothes to me soon but other than that, I have only what I carry in my pocket. Since Adam took my purse with him in the truck, that would be the change I got back from the last hundred I broke. This is how I will start my new life ...