The Last Day

SIXTY-TWO

Alice was around the corner in the corridor when her cell phone started ringing. She pulled it from the pocket of her jeans and looked at the ID. It was Earl.

“What, Earl?” she said.

“Where you at?”

“If it's any of your business, I'm at the mall.”

“Doing the deal?”

“Maybe. You still drunk?”

“Naw, did you ask for ten like I said?”

“No, I did not. I agreed on two. More would be dishonorable.”

“Damn. A’ight, that's cool. So, see ah'm sayin’, you coming to get me so we can do what we said. You know, gets me my money, the tat and stuff?”

“Your money?”

“Well, it's like mostly mines, in it? Was me gots the gun. Who negotiated the deal? Who said ten grand so as you ended with two not some measly five hundred? Who'd you shoot in the fuckin’ head?”

“I don't know, Earl. I'm thinking that I should keep the entire two thousand.”

“Without me you'd be lucky to have anybody fuck you through a hole in a wall, you no- tit loser bitch. If you couldn't make a fist around my pecker, you'd be worthless.”

“Whatever,” she said, fuming. “But if I'm the loser, how come I've got the money and you're the one sitting on your front porch?”

“Who're you calling a loser?”

“Maybe the loser who's a penniless freak with the IQ of a mollusk.”

“Don't you dare try to fuck me!”

“Why would I bother, when you're doing such a great job of fucking yourself? We're done, and if I ever see you again, even by accident, I really am going to shoot you.”

She snapped the phone closed and laughed. When her phone rang again, she started to ignore it, but she wanted to say a few more things.

“You evil little monster! You horrid bitch!” the voice hissed.

Alice felt her cheeks reddening, and her stomach felt hot and hollow. The female voice was distorted by cold fury, but Alice had heard this same tone often enough since childhood.

“You miserable ingrate.”

“What's wrong, Mother?” Alice managed to say, using the most innocent voice she could muster.

“You've ruined me,” her mother hissed.

“What are you talking about?”

“Nine one one ring any bells?”

“That's the emergency police and fire number.”

“Do you have any idea what you've done?”

“If you'll calm down before you blow out a vein or something and tell me what you're talking about…”

“I'm talking about the police coming into my house with their guns out and handcuffing the lawn boy! You've really done it.” Her mother's ranting was now accented by sobs.

Fuck it. “Were you two still fucking when the cops came?”

“They were going to arrest me!” Delores snapped.

“You aren't in jail though, are you?”

“No, I'm not. He's seventeen. How could you?”

“How could you screw a boy younger than me in my own kitchen while I was home? You deserve to be arrested for child molesting. And I hate you, you bitch.”

“I'll put your things on the back porch. Maybe you can go live with your father, but he doesn't want you there either. We have given you everything, and you've given nothing but pain in return. You are a self- centered, hateful, evil little troll, and you've never done one unselfish thing in your life. So we got divorced, it happens, and you decided to punish us for the rest of our lives. That's over, Alice, for good.”

“I'm not the reason you got divorced, so don't try to make me feel guilty. You hate me because you think I'm ugly, and you are so friggin’ beautiful.”

“Talking to you is a waste of breath. I can't tell you anything the professionals couldn't tell us. Lawyers and shrinks, all a waste of my time and money. Good- bye, Alice. And I wish you good luck, because you lack any personality or capacity to care about anybody but yourself.”

The phone went dead.

Alice wanted to laugh because the cops had caught her mother screwing a kid in the kitchen. She wished she had a film of it to watch.

I'm an evil monster?

She's the monster.

She never loved me.

I never loved her. Screw her.

I've got money.

I can get an apartment, and I can get a job.

I'll show her.

Alice left the mall, walked to her car, unlocked it, and climbed in. She put the bag on the passenger seat, cranked it, and just sat there, thinking. Her mother was wrong. She'd done lots of unselfish things. Lots. Alice tried to think of one, but nothing came to mind.

“I gave Mr. McCarty his little toy car back when I didn't have to. That was unselfish. Totally unselfish,” she said.

She let her eyes wander to the black carry bag and, reaching in, took out the envelope to count the money. She wouldn't spend any until she got an apartment and cable TV Two grand would be enough.

She counted the bills twice. Though she was, you didn't have to be a math major to know that twenty fifty- dollar bills didn't equal two thousand dollars. Why did people always think they could fuck her over?