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?"