Dime a Dozen

GAP bags in hand, I walked swiftly through the town’s grocery store and felt extremely stupid. Most people put their clothing bags in their car. I didn’t have one, and I was getting the oddest looks.

After spending so much, too much, on my new clothes, I was worried about how much else I was going to be able to buy. I only had about two-hundred seventy-five dollars and some change. I’d counted it multiple times on the way to the little store.

I bought fifty dollars worth of canned food. Chef Boyardee® made up most of my cart, along with some dried fruits and berries because I’d never had them before and they looked good.

“Oh my goodness,” the cashier laughed, “You’re either a college student or you’re going camping.

“Going camping.” The lie rolled easily off my tongue and I smiled.

“Have fun!” she wished, and I promised her that I would.

Next on my “list” was a mattress and maybe some books or a CD player. I was tired of sleeping on a wood floor, and I had had any form of entertainment since almost never. However, the nearest store that sold those things was two blocks away.

It was almost dark before I got there, exhausted from struggling with plastic bags and with aching feet. It felt good when I could finally put my bags in the cart. .

When I reached the mattress and bedding area of the store, a sales person appeared out of nowhere with an overly happy face and a shiny, gold, nametag.

“Can I help you with anything?” he chirped and flinched.
“Um…yeah. A small child’s mattress. Do you have those?” I wasn’t very tall and wouldn’t need a long mattress.

“Of course! Shopping for your little brother?”

“Yeah.” I smiled when I thought of Gabriel.
He showed me the mattresses, but they were too expensive. I didn’t want to be rude and tell him that, so I used my transportation as an excuse.

“Well that’s okay. We can ship it right to your house!” He got out a pen and a pad of paper, “What’s your address?”

I panicked. “Nuh-No! That’s okay! I really don’t have the money. Thanks anyway.”

I got as far away from his as I could, and hid behind my cart.

Since the mattresses were too much money, I decided to get a comforter and a new pillow instead.

The comforter was a dark blue, and the pillow case that came with the pillow was white. I was also able to buy a battery powered CD player*, some batteries, a few CDs that I had picked at random, and a really long book. It was going to have to last me a long time. The total came to only fifty-seven dollars and seventy-five cents. I was left with one-hundred sixty dollars to save.

The walk to the bus stop wasn’t long, but carrying so many bags was extremely difficult. I piled them on the bus stop bench and sat on the ground.

The bus came at seven, and by that time I was almost too exhausted to keep my eyes open. The bus driver was nice enough to wait for me load all of my things into the closest seat to the door. There weren’t many people on the bus; a few teenage girls talking loudly in the back seat, and a man in a mechanic's suit, slumped over in his chair.

I was dropped off closer to the tree house then from where I was picked up. I was too exhausted to walk another block. Two streets were even pushing it, but I walked them anyway, on autopilot.

I didn’t even unpack. I collapsed on the floor with a smile on my face and wrapped in new warmth.

~*~

The next few weeks went by as usual, except I didn’t have to beg, having enough money and food to last me a while. I had enough clothes to rotate, so they didn’t start to stink as quickly, and I had a better pallet on the floor with my new comforter and pillow.

And I even started reading my book and listening to CDs. The book was about a soldier in the World War and about his struggles. It was nice to be able to read about someone else’s troubles, instead of dwelling on my own.

The CDs were good too. Somehow I managed to grab two metal ones and one of “classical music by various artists”. I didn’t think that I would like metal music, but I did. I played it loud, danced around**; I drowned everything out. And then I fell asleep to Beethoven and Mozart.

I hadn’t been anywhere since I went to town, except for getting water from the Aquafina guy, who apologized again and again about how he was sorry that he couldn’t help me other than the water. I told him I would be fine and went back to the tree house.

Eventually, my clothes started to smell and I was in need of a bath. Water wasn’t good enough anymore, and even though I had been used to it before, the smell of my breath and my body, for some reason I couldn’t stand it. I grabbed my money and got back on the bus, wearing my new clothes and towing my old ones in plastic bags.

There was a laundry mat two streets over from Lava Java in town. I washed and dried my clothes and left for the store I bought my book and CDs in. There, I bought the necessities I hadn’t used or thought I needed for years: toothbrush, toothpaste, and deodorant. I also bought some soap and bucket for showers. Basically, I would be making my own bathroom (except for a toilet which was supplied by a hole outside.)

I walked passed Lava Java on the way to the bus stop. I looked in its' big window, nearly drooling for a cinnamon roll. But when I looked towards the door, that group of teens I had seen before, stared at even, was talking and laughing as they walked through the front door. The shorter boy smiled at me again, but instead of returning it, I took off towards the bus stop, my face as red as a tomato.

~*~

I would have to start begging again. It was December first and my money was slowly running out from my trips into town. It was seven in the morning when I woke up, in time for everyone’s morning rush to work. I brushed my teeth, put on my old clothes and new jackets, and turned the CD player off. I gripped my clay mug in my hand, pulled out the lonely dime inside and gave it a quick kiss like I had done in front of Gabriel, and started the freezing walk passed the houses and into the city.

On my way, I held the dime in my numb hand and studied the smooth surface, rubbing my thumb over the engraved president’s head and then flipped it over.

My eyes bugged surprised. There was a smoothly engraved ‘G’ on the back of the dime, almost like it was burned on or carved professionally. The lack of words and symbols that should have been there made my mouth drop open in astonishment. How could a little four year old boy do this? Did his dad do it for him? Was this dime special to him in some way?...

The questions were dismissed when I narrowly missed being hit by a truck on the crosswalk.

I would think about it later.