Nickel T (Part one)
Jimmy was late. But that was pretty much a given on any day of the week. But today he was extraordinarily late. "Two hours!!" Sammi hissed under her breath. She had known Jimmy for most of her life. If you could call it a life. Jimmy was always the reliable one. Even if he was late a majority of the time. But this time something wasn't right. She could sense it. Heck, she could smell it. "Freakin' Jimmy!!" This time she didn't bother with pretenses. The bum sitting by the dumpster took notice. As Sammi cursed Jimmy, the bum actually turned his head. "Oh, I thought you were seriously dead." Sammi yelled to the frightened man. "Not today." he answered and fell back to sleep. Sammi and Jimmy always joked about Two Fingers, their own unique name for the corpse who slept by the back door of Johnny's - the pub owned by Sammi's father. It was a simple name based upon the homeless man's unfortunate accident two years ago. Sammi reflected upon the accident she had pieced together from the hospital staff. Two Fingers was snoozin' in his usual spot but had hidden himself unknowingly from the sanitation workers. The garbage truck had backed up to the dumpster but the dumpster had rolled back a few inches. Unfortunately, Two Fingers had placed his hand down by the wheel of the full dumpster. When the driver of the truck finally heard the screams coming from the unfortunate victim, the permanent damage had been done to Two Fingers hand. The surgeon on call at the hospital had repaired his hand the best he could but the fingers on his left hand were crushed so thoroughly that no surgeon could have saved them. The hospital removed the crushed digits and Two Fingers reclaimed his spot by the dumpster. A sudden commotion jarred Sammi back to reality. On the other side of the alley a man and woman were beginning a fight. As the voices grew louder Sammi recognized the couple. The Clintons lived a couple blocks away and didn't usually venture down this alley. Actually, they were rarely seen after 8 o'clock at night. An elderly couple - retired. The couple had sold their shop when the newest franchise had opened down the street. Sammi remembered how lost they had looked for a few months. Mr. Clinton loved his customers and Mrs. Clinton always had a sincere smile for each one who walked through the door of the drugstore. Sammi could remember running through their door after school for the candy always within reach below the front counter. In all the years she had come in the doors of the little store she could never remember an unkind word from either of the Clintons. Which was totally different then what she was witnessing now. "What's she holding?" Sammi thought to herself. In the darkness she could barely make out the image of a soup can Mrs. Clinton was holding. After a few moments it became obvious that something was very wrong in the Clinton household. As Sammi listened to the two arguing, she became unnerved at the words she was hearing. Through bits and pieces she could hear the uncertainty in both their voices. After 40 years of owning a shop and demonstrating the rarest display of love and affection uncommon in this day and age, Mr. and Mrs. Clinton were arguing like strangers. Mrs. Clinton didn't understand why "this" man wanted her soup so bad. And Mr. Clinton wanted to know why "this" woman was in his kitchen in the first place. And he was yelling about some dog that he needed to feed but she wouldn't tell him where she had hid him. It was the soup can that worried Sammi the most. As her sight gained a better hold of the couple she could make out the cut on Mr. Clinton's forehead. And as Mrs. Clinton waved the can around, Sammi could make out the stain on the paper label. The Clintons were not going to be okay after this. As the argument continued, Sammi felt alone in the alley. Alone and scared.
Part two of Nickel T will be published in the near future. Please wait anxiously. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog. For questions or ideas please email me at rueuhy@gmail.com
Jimmy was late. But that was pretty much a given on any day of the week. But today he was extraordinarily late. "Two hours!!" Sammi hissed under her breath. She had known Jimmy for most of her life. If you could call it a life. Jimmy was always the reliable one. Even if he was late a majority of the time. But this time something wasn't right. She could sense it. Heck, she could smell it. "Freakin' Jimmy!!" This time she didn't bother with pretenses. The bum sitting by the dumpster took notice. As Sammi cursed Jimmy, the bum actually turned his head. "Oh, I thought you were seriously dead." Sammi yelled to the frightened man. "Not today." he answered and fell back to sleep. Sammi and Jimmy always joked about Two Fingers, their own unique name for the corpse who slept by the back door of Johnny's - the pub owned by Sammi's father. It was a simple name based upon the homeless man's unfortunate accident two years ago. Sammi reflected upon the accident she had pieced together from the hospital staff. Two Fingers was snoozin' in his usual spot but had hidden himself unknowingly from the sanitation workers. The garbage truck had backed up to the dumpster but the dumpster had rolled back a few inches. Unfortunately, Two Fingers had placed his hand down by the wheel of the full dumpster. When the driver of the truck finally heard the screams coming from the unfortunate victim, the permanent damage had been done to Two Fingers hand. The surgeon on call at the hospital had repaired his hand the best he could but the fingers on his left hand were crushed so thoroughly that no surgeon could have saved them. The hospital removed the crushed digits and Two Fingers reclaimed his spot by the dumpster. A sudden commotion jarred Sammi back to reality. On the other side of the alley a man and woman were beginning a fight. As the voices grew louder Sammi recognized the couple. The Clintons lived a couple blocks away and didn't usually venture down this alley. Actually, they were rarely seen after 8 o'clock at night. An elderly couple - retired. The couple had sold their shop when the newest franchise had opened down the street. Sammi remembered how lost they had looked for a few months. Mr. Clinton loved his customers and Mrs. Clinton always had a sincere smile for each one who walked through the door of the drugstore. Sammi could remember running through their door after school for the candy always within reach below the front counter. In all the years she had come in the doors of the little store she could never remember an unkind word from either of the Clintons. Which was totally different then what she was witnessing now. "What's she holding?" Sammi thought to herself. In the darkness she could barely make out the image of a soup can Mrs. Clinton was holding. After a few moments it became obvious that something was very wrong in the Clinton household. As Sammi listened to the two arguing, she became unnerved at the words she was hearing. Through bits and pieces she could hear the uncertainty in both their voices. After 40 years of owning a shop and demonstrating the rarest display of love and affection uncommon in this day and age, Mr. and Mrs. Clinton were arguing like strangers. Mrs. Clinton didn't understand why "this" man wanted her soup so bad. And Mr. Clinton wanted to know why "this" woman was in his kitchen in the first place. And he was yelling about some dog that he needed to feed but she wouldn't tell him where she had hid him. It was the soup can that worried Sammi the most. As her sight gained a better hold of the couple she could make out the cut on Mr. Clinton's forehead. And as Mrs. Clinton waved the can around, Sammi could make out the stain on the paper label. The Clintons were not going to be okay after this. As the argument continued, Sammi felt alone in the alley. Alone and scared.
Part two of Nickel T will be published in the near future. Please wait anxiously. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog. For questions or ideas please email me at rueuhy@gmail.com
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