Dime a Dozen

Town, there, was really a small part of the city everyone called “town” just because it was actually a community, and better yet, it was clean.

Before Gabriel had given me the money from his mother’s purse, a few passerbies had given me two dollars in quarters, (all together.) The city bus was only one dollar, so this time I didn’t have to walk to town, I could ride the bus both ways. I felt so rich; it was crazy.
I sat next to a white-haired old lady who had wrapped a wool blanket around herself. When I sat down, she stared my hands, looking appalled. About halfway to my destination, I started to get annoyed.

“Can I help you?” I asked her.

She looked at me, a frown on her face. “Honey, your nails are filthy!”

I looked down at my fingertips. She was right; my fingernails were dirty. I never thought about cleaning underneath them.

“Here,” She grabbed one of my hands, opening her purse and taking out a sketchy looking brush I had never seen before. I laughed nervously, looking around the semi-empty bus for help.

“Son,” she continued, scrubbing with the damn brush so hard I thought my fingernails were going to come off. “You need to learn how to keep your hands clean. The rest of you doesn’t matter. This world doesn’t matter.”

I went to interrupt, to tell her she doesn’t understand, but she kept going, as if I hadn’t even opened my mouth.

“Even though the rest of you is what they’ll see first, your hands are what they’re gunna’ shake, and they have to be clean to shake, don’t they? And you gotta’ make sure your heart is as clean as your hands,” she dropped my right and grabbed my left. “Because you never know who’ll make it inside.

“Oh, you know, that I know, that Lord knows these times are tuff’, but you have to be true to yourself. Oh – that’s my stop.”

I hadn’t even realized the bus had stopped until the small woman was out of her seat and scurrying out the door. I couldn’t help laugh softly at her craziness while I looked at my – now clean - fingertips.

They did look nice.

~*~

I got dropped off at town around noon, and I had already figured out how I was going to spend my money. One-hundred dollars was going to clothes, one-hundred to non-perishable foods, and one-hundred to an actual mattress and blankets. I’d save the rest.

I hadn’t planned on eating in town, but the minute I got near Main Street I was starved. I promised myself not to spend more than twenty dollars.

There was a small coffee shop near the center of Main Street, with a big sparkling sign on the door that read “Lava Java”, and it had a picture of a volcano next to it. I thought it was odd, but I walked in anyway.

Cinnamon rolls were spread across counters, and people were sitting, chatting amongst each other. It was one of those places where you couldn’t stop the smile from stretching across your face. It was home-like, warm, and welcoming.

“Can I help you with anything?” I snapped from my thoughts, realizing I had made it to the counter. I could feel the heat crawl from my cheeks to my ears.

“Uh – Um, yeah; can I have a cinnamon roll?” I asked the girl, not sure if I was doing the ordering thing right. I couldn’t remember the last time I was in a restaurant of any kind, even if I was just a café.

“Is, that all?” She typed my order into the computer, and looked up, waiting for my answer. I wasn’t sure if I wanted anything else. Their cinnamon rolls were big, so one would have filled me up, but I thought I’d look silly without coffee. Everyone else had a cup.

“Can I have a coffee, too, please?” I whispered, barely heard over the smooth jazz that was echoing off the walls. I don’t know why I was so nervous, but I was. I didn’t want to be noticed.

“Small, medium, or large?” she asked.

“Um, small.”

“That’ll be ten fifty-two.”

I reached into my pocket and pulled out one of my hundred dollar bills. “Do you have change for a hundred?” I asked her, handing her the bill. She looked at me oddly for a second before nodding and putting the green paper into the register. She counted out my change in front of me, and handed it back. She walked around to, what I guessed was the coffee machine, and started to fix it. While the “Java” machine was pouring out the perfect amount of coffee, she grabbed a fresh cinnamon roll from behind her, and finished fixing my coffee.

It all smelled amazing, especially the cinnamon roll. I found a seat in the back of the building and began to eat. The sugary icing melted onto my tongue and I felt like I was in heaven.

The cinnamon roll was gone in no time, and it was a wonder that I remembered what it tasted like after eating it so fast. I took a sip of the coffee and cringed. It was bitter. I couldn’t figure out why anyone in their right mind would like it. I threw it away, mentally kicking myself for the waste of money.

I sat. I don’t know what I was waiting for; it was passed noon. The shops along Main Street closed at six, and I was wasting time. But I’m glad I stayed.

They walked in.

And it wasn’t even a walk, it was a swagger, a saunter, and they held these confident looks. Not cocky, just confident. Clothed in fine looking shirts and denim jeans, and they all looked…attractive, surreal, even.

Three girls and two boys, they walked in. All I could do was stare in awe.

The group was chatting, like the rest of the people in the building. I noticed they ordered the same thing I had, even though there were many sandwiches to choose from and different types of coffee. Their table was near a window, but no one paid any attention to any of the scenes that went on outside.

I watched them. Probably not very subtly, either.

One of the two boys was darker than the other. I guess that maybe he was part Italian, or another darer race. He had to be; it was almost winter. His black hair was cropped short, with thin short bangs that didn’t even reach his eyes. He wore darker clothes, too, though all of them were neutral. He had a mischievous glint in his eye, something that reminded me of Gabriel, and was awfully touchy with one of the girls.

I didn’t pay too much attention to the girls. They were too alike, with matching attire and wavy blond hair. They even acted the same. They weren’t annoying, by any means, just not very interesting.

But the other boy was.

He was a pale cream, like me, with a thin body and small, girly features. Soft, auburn hair hung in his face, and every now and then he would reach a slender hand up to push it out of his eyes. His clothing was light in color, a soft egg white, and faded denim that clung to his legs. His jeans looked like a women’s cut, too. Like everyone else, he was wearing a zip-up sweatshirt, but also had a light pink wind blazer. He hung it on his chair.

One of the girls must have noticed me staring. She pointed to me, smiling, and the entire table looked my way.

The black-haired boy paid little attention to me, going back to kissing his girlfriend on the cheek and taking a sip of his coffee. But the other smiled at me.

I gave a timid smile back before rushing out the door.

~*~

I tried to forget about the group in Lava Java. For some reason, I got embarrassed every time I thought about it. My cheeks would even heat up.

I just tried my best to go on about my day. It was supposed to be a good day, so that’s what it would be.

The first thing I needed to buy was clothes, and a wallet. I lost the two quarters I got as change; they fell out of a hole in my packet as I ran out the door of the coffee shop, (I wasn’t thinking about…)

I few stores down from Lava Java was a medium sized clothing store called GAP. In each window there were a few mannequins wearing the newest style in jeans and shirts. It wasn’t the cheapest, and I almost considered going to the thrift store across town instead, but I thought I deserved some clothes that actually fit.

On one side of the store was a men’s section; on the other side a women’s and way in the back were the kid’s. I walked over to the men’s section warily, not completely sure of what I wanted.

I was going to start with underwear. I preferred boxers, so I grabbed a few off of the shelf that looked like they were small enough for my underfed frame and laid the over my arm. Since it was almost winter, I chose tube socks over my usual ankle socks and took three pair off the shelf. I wasn’t even checking prices.

Next: jeans. I was determined to find the most comfortable, durable, and warm. I put the socks and boxers on the ground for a minute while I checked two comfortable fit ones for size. I decided I’d try them on when I found a shirt I liked.

The polo shirts were more expensive then the jeans. I found a soft, black, long-sleeved shirt I liked and then looked at the size. It was an XL, which I knew would simply fall off my body. I took the last small off the hook and draped it over my arm, which was starting to ache.

The girl at the counter was probably my age. She sat on a stool and fiddled with a bracelet on her arm, seeing as there was no one besides me in the store. Her brown, long hair hung over her equally dark eyes.

When she looked at me, she smiled. “How can I help you?”

“Can I try these on?” I pointed to the clothes on my arm, feeling the unnecessary heat build in my cheeks.

I tried the first pair of jeans on, frowning into the mirror with my shirt held above my belly button. The cloth was loose, and hung off my bony hips so far they nearly fell down. It wouldn’t work.

I ripped them off and also tried on the shirt, which was too big as well. Annoyed, I stomped out of the dressing room leaving the too-big clothes behind.

“Everything fit okay?” the girl asked nicely.

“I need smaller size.” I mumbled.

“Here,” she held out her hands, “I can keep those on the counter for you. Do you want any help finding your clothes?”

I nodded at her, answering the question and allowing her to take the clothes from my hand. She was probably bored, and I oddly felt sorry for her.

“Okay; what sizes were the clothes you just tried on?”

“Um… the jeans were a 30W and 30L, and the shirt was a small.” I told her, and she looked a little surprised.

“Okay. Well, I think you need a lot smaller than that.” She laughed, but it ended quickly. “Did the jeans fit length wise?”

I nodded and picked out the style of jeans I wanted and she held them up to me, guessing I need the smallest size: 28W and 30L. Each pair was available in that size and I smiled a little. Telling her I hadn’t been shopping in a while.

The shirt, too, had my size, an X-small, and she took it to the counter as well.

“Is there anything else you needed?” she asked.

“Um…sweater, jacket, and some shoes.”

I got a size small sweater and jacket so I could wear the two as layers, and asked the girl to show me the warmest shoes they sold.

“Well, these boots aren’t water proof, but they're fleece inside and they look warm.”

I tried them on. They were comfortable and were very warm. They also weren’t half a size too big. It made me happy to think about.

At the register display, there were cloth wallets for sale at ten dollars. I added it to the pile of clothes and pulled my money out of the pocket.

“That’ll be four-hundred fifteen dollars and thirty five cents.” She smiled.

My eyes bugged out of their sockets and I choked on the spit I was trying to swallow. Four-hundred dollars?

I paid her anyway. I deemed the clothes worth the money, even though I was crying in my mind for spending so much and I ruining my original plans.

I carried my GAP bag out into the open air at around two. My money was in a wallet, and my Nikes had been replaced.

I felt slightly proud.