A Place on My Pillow

Being dirty wasn’t a feeling that Pollyanna had ever enjoyed, at least not that she could remember. Her mother liked to tell stories of Polly’s rebellious stage when she was 4 years old and didn’t like the dresses that Momma Salisbury picked out for her. According to the woman, Polly would be fine and clean one moment and then, she would be covered head to toe in dirt and mud. It had made Momma Salisbury angry to no end, but Polly supposed that’s what made her do it for so long. She was a 4-year-old dirt devil rebel, but it hadn’t lasted long. By the time she was 5, Pollyanna, while no longer in dresses, was back to her clean and proper self. So while she was on the streets, dirt covering her face from a week without rain or showers, she was utterly repulsed with herself. Showers were heaven to the girl, who wanted nothing more than clean skin, and clean clothes. To be fair, Otto was even filthier than his owner, his black and brown fur matted with caked on mud. The homeless shelters and women’s homes wouldn’t let Pollyanna give the pup a proper bath or even a quick rinse so she could comb the mud from his fur. They said that their resources weren’t going to be wasted on a filthy animal that could take care of itself. They obviously had never seen Otto in action.

“Get a job, you lazy bum!” someone yelled at her from a passing car. She smothered the urge to flip them the bird and kept walking, Otto trotting blissfully unaware at her side. He was panting, the sound growing louder. They’d need water soon, Pollyanna thought, looking at the young canine. She got out the map of the city that she’d liberated from a gas station a mile back. They had to walk from place to place, or else they’d still be stuck in that college town. She would, actually. Alone. Otto would still be in that alleyway, shivering and starving. They wouldn’t have found each other.

“Can you imagine that, Otto?” Polly asked the dog, even though Otto couldn’t care less about what she was saying. Unless it involved treats, he wouldn’t care. Typical dog behavior. “Can you imagine not having me? I can’t imagine not having you. I mean, I’d be alone. I hated being alone. Darker times without you. You weren’t even alive. But, it was. Much darker.”

Otto didn’t care.

“And what would have become of us, buddy? You probably would’ve been hit by a car or something. I would’ve been so lonely. Dark times, indeed. Sure, I’d have less to take care of. I’d only have myself to worry about. I wouldn’t have to find you food as well as myself, and I could hide out in more places. But I prefer it this way. I’d rather have more things to do than to be alone. You know?”

The dog didn’t respond.

He never did.

But his presence was enough.

“How about a burger, buddy?” Polly asked, fishing through her pocket for the last bit of money that she’d picked up off the ground a few days before. The 20 dollars had gotten her a week’s worth of snacks, plus some kibble for Otto.

Otto perked up as she withdrew a dollar and change from her jeans pocket. She found her way to the closest fast food joint and tied Otto to the bike rack momentarily. She wished she didn’t have to leave him out there, but there were no animals, save for seeing-eye dogs, allowed in the restaurant. She kissed the pup’s head and headed inside, pulling open the heavy glass door.

Her stomach rumbled loudly in her stomach as soon as the almost intoxicating scent of broiled burgers and frying chicken hit her. She glanced at the patrons of the fast food chain, sitting in the overly warm building, chowing down on extra large combo meals. She shook her head and waited patiently in line. She checked on Otto, who was barking at something passing him.

“Hi! Can I help you?” a chipper young girl with auburn hair that was tied into a high pony tail and flopped over her visor called out to Pollyanna. She had a wide smile, that was strangely genuine. Everyone else behind the long fake marble counter wore a forced smile, put on to please the customers. But this girl, ANGELA, her nametag read, was genuinely a happy person and happy to be there. It was strange, unheard of. Who liked going to work at a greasy restaurant and serve people in XXXXL jeans?

Polly shook her head and stepped up.

“Can I get a burger, plain, no bun?” she asked shyly.

“Of course! Would you like anything else?” ANGELA asked, her voice just as frighteningly chipper as her smile.

“No. How much is that?” Polly worried.

“Dollar seven,” the cashier read. Polly nodded and counted out six cents in change. She searched through her pockets and frowned.

“I’m sorry. I only have a dollar six,” Polly apologized. ANGELA glanced around and held out her hand.

“I’ll take it. But shhhhhh, you don’t know anything about this. I just miscounted.”

Pollyanna handed over the money.

“For here or to go?” ANGELA asked.

“To go.”

After a few taps on the touch screen register, a receipt printed to ANGELA’s left. She snatched it up and winked at me, handing it over. She bounced to the counter behind her where the kitchen members slid the food down chutes to be expedited. The cashier, alone and unsupervised, looked around and then back at me. She put my box of meat into a bag and then slipped something else in the bag. She bounced excitedly back to me.

“Here you go, hun. Have a nice day! Enjoy your meal!” she chirped, sliding a large plastic cup over the fake marble at me. I took it and said my thanks, heading towards the self-serve drink bar. I filled the cup up with ice and water, capping it before leaving to find Otto. He wasn’t alone.

Beside him was a worker, with short red hair. She was plump, older with crow’s feet and a worn, wise smile. She was dressed in the uniform, the visor resting on the top of her head, a tired-looking nametag announcing BILLIE in faded red lettering.

“Is this gorgeous darling yours, hun?” she asked, her voice sweet.

“Yeah. He’s my baby,” Polly said, sitting beside Otto. The puppy jumped away from Billie and into Polly’s lap, tail wagging excitedly. He could smell the burger. His owner reached into the bag and found the plastic box.

“Down!” she said. Otto hopped off and sat beside her, failing to sit still. She popped open the container and set it before him. She glanced into the bag and smiled. The cashier and snuck her large container of fries and one of the joint’s signature large sandwiches.

“What’s his name?” Billie asked, watching as the puppy quickly finished the burger and lay down contentedly. It was probably the fullest his stomach had ever been.

“Otto.”

“Cute. Where’d you get him?”

“I found him. He was a stray,” Pollyanna answered. Just like me, she thought to herself.

“You’re sweet to take care of him. My husband used to bring home stray cats and puppies all the time. It was my favorite bit of him, his stubborn kindness. He once brought home a stray kid, about 7 or 8. The kid had been abused by his parents and my husband, God bless his soul, couldn’t say no. We adopted the kid, even though we could barely feed the two of our own. But, that’s life. You gotta give what little you have to those who deserve it more.”

Over the next half hour, Polly learned all about how Billie had left her first alcoholic husband at the age of 21 with a baby on one hip and a full-time job on the other. She had always worked, never went to college and had managed to save up to put each one of her kid’s through college. She had four kids; one from her first marriage, two biologically and one adoptive from her second. She was the kindest woman that Pollyanna had ever talked to. She would come in on her day’s off because the store needed it. She would mow the lawn, scrub everything and work, without getting paid. It was amazing to Polly, who had grown up with greed and money in every facet of her childhood. Here was a woman that would do something not for the cash reward but out of the kindness of her heart. It was simply amazing. More people should be like Billie, Polly thought as the older woman pat the young girl’s and stood up. Polly watched as the worker headed off to do her job. That woman deserved a medal.