Loooong week. Glad it’s over. Here’s a first draft of something bigger. xo, Amy
Margaret heaved another milk crate of books from the trunk and sniffed. Was that pot she smelled?
She turned to find two men standing behind her. One had long blond hair, goatee and a biker vest. He carried an open tube of Colgate in his hand. The other had crew-cut brown hair and wore a “LEGALIZE MARIJUANA” t-shirt. Blondie spoke first. “Dude, you want some help with that?”
“Dude, don’t call her a dude, man, she’s a chick!” Crew-cut smiled apologetically and pointed at his friend. “Unbelievable.”
“No, I’m okay.” She elbowed the hatch closed and started toward the door of the apartment building.
Crew-cut held the door open. “I’m John, I live in the apartment next to you. That’s Snake.”
“I’m Margaret.”
“We seen you moving in, thought you could use some fuckin’ help.” Blondie stuck the toothpaste in his mouth and squeezed. “You got a boyfriend?”
She reached the top of the stairs and trudged past an open door to that of her own apartment. “No. Thanks, guys, but I’m fine.”
The pair followed her in. “Oh, this is nice,” Blondie proclaimed. “You got any beer?”
“No. Now, excuse me. I need to finish moving my stuff.”
“Just a second!” Crew-cut John called from the bathroom. The toilet flushed. “That’s nice tile you got in there, I got linoleum,” he announced.
“Yeah, but linoleum’s functional and shit. You know, like if you puke. Remember last Christmas?”
John nodded. “Oh, word. Unbelievable.”
Blondie scratched himself and sucked some more toothpaste. “Hey, lady, you got anything to eat?”
Margaret took a deep breath and counted to ten. “Not yet. I’m just moving in. I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me, so if you don’t mind…?”
John blinked at her. “Mind what?”
“Argh. Okay, guys, if you want to help, there’s more boxes in the car. Go ahead and bring them up and I’ll start unpacking.”
Margaret considered locking the door after they were out, but decided against it. Like it or not, these guys were her new neighbors. She finished unpacking the crate just as they returned.
John pulled a Ganesh statuette from his crate. “What the fuck is this?” he asked curiously, turning the artwork in his hands. “Reminds me of Captain Kangaroo. You know, Mr. Moose?”
Snake dumped a cardboard box marked “kitchen/glasses” onto the floor with a crash and sucked down the last of his Colgate noisily. “You got any toothpaste?”
Margaret’s shoulders sagged. “Thanks, guys, I think I can handle it from here.” She shooed them out and closed the door on them.
Snake’s voice came through loud and clear. “Fuck, man, I think she likes me!”
“Unbelievable…”
Margaret sank onto the couch and tried to remember the terms of her lease.
Copyright 2005 Amy Frushour Kelly. All rights reserved. Reproduction prohibited without prior written consent.