She woke and listened to her alarm. The terrible beeping sound. Well it wasn't a single sound but three beeps in quick succession, again, again and again. She listened for another few minutes and hit the snooze button. She had her head face down in a pillow. This was the routine. She finally got up. She shut off the alarm and walked towards her dresser. She pulled open the drawers and looked at the clothes she could wear. She had to do laundry. She sighed. She picked up a short sleeved purple shirt and black jeans. The shirt had a pentagram on it. She smiled at it. She walked towards the bathroom. It was a small room. The door was broken so if you closed it all the way the door would get stuck. So she had to leave it open a crack. She showered. She had to use unscented shampoo, scented shampoo overwhelmed her and made her want to puke. She got dressed and left the bathroom. She picked up her phone on her dresser. She still had an hour before work. She laid down on the bed and looked through the books on her bedside table. She picked up one and started to read. It was a book named Spring. It was about a murder in the spring if you could guess it. The clever detective Jean S. Mimieux is on the case and he won't let the case go. The scene she was in had Mimieux grilling a suspect, a dock worker who was seen near the scene with blood on his white shirt. Mimieux thought he'd found his perp, but something was wrong… She turned the page. She put the book against her chest. She looked at her little notebook on the bedside table. She picked it up and went to a page. It was a poem about him. She was writing those things again. She thought she'd get sick of it, but she didn't. She tore the page. He was a friend. She couldn't do this again. It was hard to avoid. To avoid the thoughts. It made her so fucking angry. She closed the book and put it back on the bedside table. She continued to lay in bed. She closed her eyes. She almost fell asleep but then she looked at the time on her alarm clock. 10 minutes till she had to be there. She hopped out of bed and went downstairs. She drove to work. It was raining. She had to turn her windshield wipers on.
She arrived and parked her car out back of the store. She walked in through the back door. She walked into the produce room and grabbed the cart. She wheeled it out front. She took off two packages of brussel sprouts which were past date and put them on the cart. She started to make note of anything they needed; it wasn't a lot though. She flipped through her notebook to the poems. She read one silently to herself. She went to the back and got what was needed. At least two packages of brussel sprouts and a few other things. Some cantaloupes. She brought it back out to the front and put the things in their place. She started to think of words.
Coincidence divine
Now the job:
Grow a fucking spine
She chuckled. That was its own mini poem. She wrote it down. She went back to work. But without her own permission she started another poem in her head.
Your hair shines
Like I am standing before the sun
And I can only whine
The heat is too much to handle
At times
I must speak to Pheebs
I'm going to tell her I am not fine
Helga felt cranky at that poem. She wrote it down anyway. Sometimes fitting rhymes into an idea just makes it feel forced. She grabbed an apple that had a big brown bruised spot. She put it on the cart. She looked through the drinks. They were fine. She looked at the baby carrots. Some of them were past dates. She picked them up and put them on the cart. Work sure was feeling lonely without him. There was a moment where she had something she wanted to say to him but he wasn't here. She took the stuff to the back of the store. She did some more work. Wrote a few more poems then it was already lunch time. They served steak and cheese in the store on this day. She had to pick one up. She went to her car and ate there. She read while she ate. Mimieux had realized what was wrong. He smelled the shirt. It was ketchup not blood. Helga laughed at that. It was so stupid. Apparently he wasn't willing to say it was ketchup though, almost like he was taking the fall for someone. The thirty minutes of her break passed and she went back inside. She did more work.
When I looked to the right
I had not expected to see him
When I did I wasn't sure what to feel
I wondered aloud
"Did you need something?" Or something like that
Then he told me
I work here too
It'd been so long
Too long
The thought made me uncomfortable
Why him? Why now? I was over it
I thought so
Now I'm flushed here over some football head
She wrote it down.
"How's work, Helga?" Andrew appeared suddenly.
Helga quickly closed her notebook and looked at him. "Getting it done. It's a bit more effort and it's kinda lonely without football head."
"Football head? Ha!" He slapped his knee "His head does look quite like a football doesn't it? I shouldn't be saying this about an employee though. Keep up the good work, Helga."
Helga started to work again. She could keep up with what she needed but not as smoothly as when he was here. It was only at the end of the day did the work feel done. The janitor was mopping. She went outside and got in her car. She drove back to her apartment. She laid in bed for a while. She was going to do what she said in her poem. She promised though she had trouble mustering up the will to call. She did though, eventually. Phoebe answered. "Hey, Helga. How was work?"
"Lonely. Football head is checking out his dream college."
"That's a shame."
"Did I tell you that he's a nerd?"
"What do you mean?"
"Apparently he used to play Dungeons and Dragons."
"Oh my gosh, Helga. How'd you find that out?"
"Well, he admitted as much when I found his player's handbook. Though… that's not really what I wanted to call about."
"Something on your mind?"
Helga put a hand on her face. She didn't want to say the words. They seemed to forecast her doom. They were cursed words. "I think I'm falling for him again."
"Oh no… Helga, I thought you were over this."
"I was. I didn't even think about him for a long time. Sometimes I like missed him but nothing crazy. Now it's like. He comes up pretty often in my mind. I imagine things."
"Helga."
"Yes, Phoebe?"
"I don't mean to crush your hopes but doesn't he just like boys?"
"No, he's bisexual."
"Well…, that's good news for you."
"I've caught him looking at me. But we're probably not in the same place. Probably just thinks I'm a looker."
"Maybe. But maybe he has feelings for you?"
"No, no. I don't think so. We're friends."
"Alright. Well, Helga, be careful. You don't want to be who you were when you had your crush on him."
"I won't be, Pheebs. I'm not that little imp of a girl anymore."
"Ok. Did you catch the last episode of Johnny Bravo?"
"It's over?"
"It is."
"Damn. Things end don't they?"
"They do. There's also this new show I've been into." Phoebe went on talking about a reality show. Helga wasn't into them but she was happy to listen to Phoebe geek out about her shows.
They talked for another hour then Helga was pretty done listening to the description of the eighth episode in a row. "You mind if I hop off the line, Pheebs?"
"Oh sure, but next comes the season finale."
"I can hear about it another time."
"Ok. Remember one thing though, Helga."
"What's that?"
"Be good to the people you love."
"I try. See ya, Phoebe."
"Bye." The call ended. Helga went over to her CD player which was connected to speakers. She looked through CDs looking for a specific disc. She found it. She put it in the CD player, closed the lid and pressed play. She skipped a few songs till she got to the track. She listened to it. It sounded like a guitar being played through a radio some distance from the microphone. Eddie Vedder is doing his crooning. Uh hey yeah. The first real lyrics were sung. Sheets of empty canvas… She felt tears on the edge of her eyes as she listened to the song but she wasn't really sad. They just came out of her. She couldn't find the source. She thought of her father and the crying stopped. She almost screamed but she controlled her temper. Even from beyond the grave the thought of him ruined her day. She listened to the rest of the album. Then turned off the CD player. She turned off the light next to her bed and laid down. Her blankets were comfortable so didn't have trouble drifting off.
