Her face turned deadly serious. "What are you saying?" She asked.
What was I saying? Hadn't I just said it? "What I'm saying," I told her carefully. "Is that I am not looking for a relationship with you. We just had a day of fun together."
"You don't want to go out with me?" She whispered, her tone conveying danger just under the surface.
"No." I said. "What happened between us just kind of happened. I didn't intend for it to go any further than that. Can't we just be friends?"
"Friends?" She nearly spat. "It sounds to me like you think I'm some sort of slut."
"No, no!" I protested. "That's not…"
"You take me over to your place and fuck me and you just want to end it like that? That's how guys treat sluts!"
"But…"
"I'm not no fuckin slut!" She screamed at me. "Did you think I was one? Did you think you were just gonna fuck me and then we'd forget about it the next day? How could you think that? I'm a Catholic Goddamit. I go to fucking church! Nobody treats me like a fuckin slut!"
"You're not a slut Julie." I protested. "All I was trying to say…"
She suddenly slammed on the brakes, bringing her car to a screeching, smoking halt in the middle of one of Spokane's major arteries. I heard the screech of other brakes behind us as several cars nearly rear-ended her.
"Julie, Jesus, what are…"
"Get the fuck out of my car you asshole!" She screamed at me. "Get your fuckin ass out NOW! I don't ever want to see your fucked-up, lying face again!"
"Let's talk about…"
"GET OUT!" She screamed and I saw murder in her eyes.
I unsnapped my seatbelt, opened the door, and got out. Before I could close the door she peeled away, ripping it out of my hand, leaving me standing in the middle of the street in one of the worst neighborhoods in town. I looked around uncomfortably at the angry faces of the motorists whose progress I was impeding and I hurried to the curb.
"I think I could have handled that better." I muttered to myself.
I took a quick look around me, trying to figure out what I was going to do next. I was in front of a liquor store and three blacks were hanging out in front of it. They were in their early twenties or late teens and looked like gang members based on their garb. They were smoking cigarettes and drinking from forty-ounce cans of beer. They eyed me with amusement.
"Homey," One of them said to me sympathetically. "That was one pissed off bitch."
"Yep." Another agreed. "I heard her rap all the way over here. I was you Homey, I'd stay away from that shit."
"Sure thing." The other one put in. "Bitch done dropped your ass off in the hood. You'd a been good as dead she'd a done that shit at night. Lucky for you it's day, you only half as good as dead 'round here now."
They all laughed at that, shaking their heads at my predicament. I felt no fear from them. I'd worked for years in 'the hood' and had gotten good at reading the intentions of the inhabitants of it. Their jostling of me was for their own amusement. They meant me no harm. However, there were others around that would mean me some harm if I encountered them. I was no longer in possession of the safety my uniform provided or the portable radio that I'd once carried here that could summon every cop within five square miles in less than two minutes. I was in a delicate situation.
"Yeah." I said to them. "I do seem to be out of my element here, don't I?"
This cracked them up again. "You ain't shittin." One of them said.
"The bus stop around here somewhere?" I asked.
"Right here Homey." One answered. "Should be comin round in about twenty minutes."
"Hope you can make it that long." The one that had made the crack about the hood commented.
I looked around again, not seeing anything that offered comfort to me. The street was lined with liquor stores, cheap motels, and the occasional sub-human apartment complex. There were alleys between each of the buildings that undoubtedly contained all manner of thug of all races and creeds. This was not a place to take a little stroll. I turned back to the three-man comedy team.
"Gentlemen," I said. "I propose a business deal."
"Say what?" The apparent leader of the trio asked me.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a ten-dollar bill, my weekly ration from my paycheck. I silently gave thanks that I'd increased it to ten after starting work in the hospital. "Take this ten." I said, "And take it into the liquor store there. Buy me one of those forties you're drinking, since I can use a drink about now, and give me back a buck for the bus. You guys keep the rest for yourself in exchange for keeping me from getting killed before the bus gets here."
They all stared at me for a moment, a trio of THE LOOK. Finally the leader spoke.
"And what's to stop us," He asked. "From just takin the dime and sendin your ass the fuck out of here?"
I shrugged. "Absolutely nothing." I answered.
It took them a moment but they finally started laughing. The leader, shaking his head and grinning, plucked the ten out of my fingers and headed into the store. He returned a minute later handing me a frosty, forty-ounce can of King Cobra and a dollar bill.
"You know somethin Homey?" He asked me as I cracked open the beer and took a huge swallow. "You're all right. You the most fun we had around here in a fuckin week."
And so I made it safely out of the worst area that Spokane had to offer. I boarded the bus, buzzing pleasantly from the beer that I'd just slammed into my system, gave my business partners a wave goodbye, and found myself a seat. I thought it prudent to avoid going to the hospital that day, giving Julie twenty-four hours to cool down. Since I was not accustomed to riding the bus and since I did not have any more money to spare I simply sat in my seat until the bus I was on passed near my home. It took nearly two hours and by the time I got off my bladder felt as if it was going to burst. I ran the five blocks to my house, fumbled with the key, and dashed full speed to the bathroom.
It was a fitting end to the school day I supposed.
When I came home from work that night Mom was once again sitting on the couch and watching television.
"Hi Bill." She greeted. "Feeling better today?"
"Much." I lied, putting on a cheery face.
"Have you talked to Nina?" She asked delicately.
"She won't talk to me." I answered. "But life goes on, doesn't it?"
"What did you guys fight about anyway?" She asked.
"It's kinda personal Mom." I explained. "But don't worry. I'm coping."
She gave me a sideways smile. As I started up the stairs she suddenly called me back.
"I almost forgot." She told me. "Anita called and asked if you could put up her storm windows this week sometime when she gets home. Winter's coming soon you know."
"Sure." I answered. There had been a time, about a week ago, when the news that Anita had called, asking me to do something for her would have caused a stir in my nether regions. But now, nothing. Sex was still the furthest thing from my mind. "I'll do it tomorrow afternoon."
She beamed at me. "It so sweet of you Bill." She commented. "Helping Anita out even with your busy schedule. You're turning out all right."
"I hope so." I said as I headed upstairs, realizing that for the first time in forever I was looking at a trip to Anita's as a chore.
I sensed no thawing of feelings from Nina the next day so I did not attempt to talk to her. At lunch she sat alone again at her table. Mike joined me at mine, pointing at her.
"Why's she sitting over there?" He asked, not bothering to finish chewing his food first.
"She's pissed off at me." I told him.
"How come?"
"It's personal." I answered.
He stared at me for a moment and then, in the way of Mike, dismissed the subject. "You ridin' the bus today?"