all the bugs in my apartment. And then I would be there in case John stopped by, looking for me.
John. Just the thought of his name made me smile, which on the heels of those other memories was not easy. It made me glad to be alone, so no one could see me being silly. An older man like that, with that kind of suit, could only want one thing from a girl like me. And even though I liked him, and he was incredibly hot, I was not that kind of girl. Although sometimes I wished I was. At least it would keep my mind off this other shit.
As I pulled on my clothes, rushing now, I relived our meeting from last night. It was so strange. Looking back on it in the morning light, it was like he had come to the Treasure Chest looking just for me. That didn’t make any sense. No one here even knew who I was. But it was just the way he looked at me, what I swear was the unmistakable relief in his eyes, the kindness — this is what confused me. Maybe I imagined it , I thought. Maybe I would never see him again and forget all about him.
That’s what I was thinking as I grabbed my bag and opened my door. My neighbor, Vera, was standing right outside. It made me jump.
“Gah!” I said. And then we both laughed.
“Liberty! Honey, it’s okay! I was just about to ring your bell — this got delivered for you and I didn’t want it sitting out here, getting stolen,” she said, holding a package. Vera was in her early thirties, and she had a warm, round face. She was a mommy to two little girls and worked in housekeeping at one of the big hotels. She worked a lot. Her boyfriend, Reggie, worked the night shift doing security for one of the other big hotels. I liked having them as neighbors because they were friendly and their girls were cute. I also like the fact that in our sketchy area, Reggie was known not to be messed with. He had a heart of gold and watched SpongeBob with his girls but he was also big and menacing, worked in security and was always armed. I liked knowing he was right next door. I just wished he was home more at night. I’m sure Vera did, too.
“Don’t be so jumpy! You gotta relax before you go see all your boyfriends!” she laughed and handed over the package, which was small and light.
“Thanks, Vera,” I said as she headed off down the hall.
Now what could this be, I wondered. I had never had a package delivered to me in my life. Liberty Davis. We had gotten plenty of certified letters from bill collectors back in Eugene, but those were all addressed to my mother. Curious, I opened it right there, outside my apartment.
It was a pair of glasses with thick tortoise shell frames. Huh? I thought. Part of me had been expecting some sort of gross sex toy or vial of bodily fluid from someone who had seen me at the club. That would have been gross but at least made some sort of sense. I looked into the package. There was no note. I held the glasses up and inspected them: they looked new, immaculate and expensive. I scrutinized them in the sunlight. I don’t know what I was looking for, exactly, but I didn’t see any booby traps. I put them on. I have perfect vision, and nothing changed. So they were fake glasses. Weird. I put them in my bag and headed to work, mentally scratching my head the whole way there.
The parking lot at work was practically empty. One of the sometimes girls, Amber, was leaving as I punched in my code. “Totally dead,” she said, rummaging through her enormous purse. Amber was young, like me, but she looked older. She had reddish hair (dyed to match her name) and pockmarked skin that she filled in with lots of pantyhose-colored foundation. When she wasn’t smoking she was snapping gum. She was reliable, but Alex only called her when he had to, when someone had called out sick and he couldn’t find any of his preferred replacements.
“Be prepared to make five dollars,” she said, snapping her gum and shoving a cigarette into her mouth. “See ya.”
I never liked running into
John. Just the thought of his name made me smile, which on the heels of those other memories was not easy. It made me glad to be alone, so no one could see me being silly. An older man like that, with that kind of suit, could only want one thing from a girl like me. And even though I liked him, and he was incredibly hot, I was not that kind of girl. Although sometimes I wished I was. At least it would keep my mind off this other shit.
As I pulled on my clothes, rushing now, I relived our meeting from last night. It was so strange. Looking back on it in the morning light, it was like he had come to the Treasure Chest looking just for me. That didn’t make any sense. No one here even knew who I was. But it was just the way he looked at me, what I swear was the unmistakable relief in his eyes, the kindness — this is what confused me. Maybe I imagined it , I thought. Maybe I would never see him again and forget all about him.
That’s what I was thinking as I grabbed my bag and opened my door. My neighbor, Vera, was standing right outside. It made me jump.
“Gah!” I said. And then we both laughed.
“Liberty! Honey, it’s okay! I was just about to ring your bell — this got delivered for you and I didn’t want it sitting out here, getting stolen,” she said, holding a package. Vera was in her early thirties, and she had a warm, round face. She was a mommy to two little girls and worked in housekeeping at one of the big hotels. She worked a lot. Her boyfriend, Reggie, worked the night shift doing security for one of the other big hotels. I liked having them as neighbors because they were friendly and their girls were cute. I also like the fact that in our sketchy area, Reggie was known not to be messed with. He had a heart of gold and watched SpongeBob with his girls but he was also big and menacing, worked in security and was always armed. I liked knowing he was right next door. I just wished he was home more at night. I’m sure Vera did, too.
“Don’t be so jumpy! You gotta relax before you go see all your boyfriends!” she laughed and handed over the package, which was small and light.
“Thanks, Vera,” I said as she headed off down the hall.
Now what could this be, I wondered. I had never had a package delivered to me in my life. Liberty Davis. We had gotten plenty of certified letters from bill collectors back in Eugene, but those were all addressed to my mother. Curious, I opened it right there, outside my apartment.
It was a pair of glasses with thick tortoise shell frames. Huh? I thought. Part of me had been expecting some sort of gross sex toy or vial of bodily fluid from someone who had seen me at the club. That would have been gross but at least made some sort of sense. I looked into the package. There was no note. I held the glasses up and inspected them: they looked new, immaculate and expensive. I scrutinized them in the sunlight. I don’t know what I was looking for, exactly, but I didn’t see any booby traps. I put them on. I have perfect vision, and nothing changed. So they were fake glasses. Weird. I put them in my bag and headed to work, mentally scratching my head the whole way there.
The parking lot at work was practically empty. One of the sometimes girls, Amber, was leaving as I punched in my code. “Totally dead,” she said, rummaging through her enormous purse. Amber was young, like me, but she looked older. She had reddish hair (dyed to match her name) and pockmarked skin that she filled in with lots of pantyhose-colored foundation. When she wasn’t smoking she was snapping gum. She was reliable, but Alex only called her when he had to, when someone had called out sick and he couldn’t find any of his preferred replacements.
“Be prepared to make five dollars,” she said, snapping her gum and shoving a cigarette into her mouth. “See ya.”
I never liked running into
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