Vignette - Juliet's Plight

The date 1858 is stamped in stone on the Main Street Bank.  The buildings are quaint and rustic, and so far I’ve counted three antique shops, a hardware store, a flower shop, and a drug store. 

The engine light has been on for the last several miles, so I pull mom’s old clunker into a parking space, between two pick-ups, in front of Bob’s Repair Shop and sit there watching fluffy snow flakes litter my windshield before sliding down to melt.  I don't know the name of the town I'm in.

“Now what?”  I pet the little puppy for comfort curled up in a cardboard box on the passenger seat.  I found him on the side of a country road after I turned off route 66.  Normally, a cardboard box wouldn’t have interested me, but this box was marked with the words Free Dog in black magic marker.  It’s not that I need a free dog, but there wasn’t anything but fields around, not even a farm house.  He wasn’t free, he was abandoned.

Grabbing the box when I see a stranger, not wearing a jacket in thirty degree weather with tattoos up and down his arms I inquire about a place to get something to eat.

“Try the Roadhouse.”  His sleeveless t-shirt reads I am an Animal.  “It’s just three doors down.”

When I find the place, the windows are covered with beer ads.  Several neon signs gleam announcing catfish, steaks, and the best burgers in town.  The screen door creeks open and a chubby lady with tight curly hair exits and holds the door for me and my box.  My eyes have to adjust to the dimness, but I see the sign that says to have a seat.  I sidle up to the bar and put the box under a wooden chair that scrapes the linoleum when I pull it out.

The next thing I know, a guy wearing a blue bandana covering around his head slaps down a napkin coaster and says, “What’s your pleasure?”

It’s technically a bar, so I order a draft beer.  He pulls a glass down and pumps it full of golden amber.  “Here ya go little lady.”  He slides a menu toward me and leaves to wait on a biker looking guy at the other end of the bar.

When I look around I see round tables, booths, pool tables, and a dance floor.  County music plays from a jukebox near a sign with an arrow for the restrooms.  The bar is dotted with people, mostly men.  Some old, some young.  A blonde waitress is talking to two women sitting in a booth near the darkened window.  The transparent black shades are pulled to block out the sun.

Blue bandana guy comes back toward me while mopping the bar counter.  “So have you decided on lunch?”

I’ve barely looked at the menu and its prices, but decide on a hamburger and fries.  When my food arrives minutes later, I dig in.  The juicy burger tastes like heaven since the last granola bar I ate three hours ago.  I squirt catsup on my fries and eat them one by one and save half of the burger meat for my furry friend.  When blue bandana guy comes back he asks if I want a refill on the beer.

”No thanks.  How much is everything?”

Instead of answering he says, “I’m Sam.  Haven’t seen you here before.” 

I don’t offer my name.  Instead I rattle off I’m coming through town looking for work.  “Do you know of a place needing help?”  Heck, I knew my car needn't more than a quart of oil by now.

He ducks under the bar and places an application in front of me.  “Need a pen?”

I nod.  “Could I also get some water and a dish?”

“Sure.”  When he smiles I notice he’s a nice looking guy.  He rubs his grizzly chin.  “Anything else?”

“I’m good.”

When the water comes I pour some into the dish and place it in the box along with bits of the hamburger.

I fill out as much as I can of the application.  I don’t have an address or a phone number.  My only experience is working Starbuck’s during college, and selling cosmetics at a department store.  Hopelessness tugs at me especially when I get to the question:  Have you ever been convicted of a felony? Hesitating a few moments eventually I check yes.  If yes, describe:  I know I’m a goner so I write in unknowingly drove a stolen car and I add a smiley face at the end just for fun.  I’ve got nothing to lose at this point.

Capping the pen, I place it down on the application and push it aside..  Sam hurries back.  “Are you done, already?”

“I don’t have much experience so I’ll just be going.”  I grope for my wallet to pay for the meal.

I watch Sam reading the application.  When he gets to the felony part he lets out a husky laugh.

“Seriously…what kind of car?”

“I don’t remember…an Audi, or something.  I thought it belonged to my ex, but it belonged to someone else.”

“So you got a felony for driving a car that your ex stole?”

“Yes.”  I didn’t mention there were other illegal items in the trunk. 

“So, it says here you’ve had a job and the reason for leaving is…federal prison.”  Sam really has a smirk on his face and I just don’t think he believes me, but I’m sticking with my story.

“How long were you there?”

“Less than six months.  First offense, good behavior, over-crowding.  Pick one.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-five.”

“Why should I hire you, Juliet?”  Sam folds his arms across his chest and I know this means he’s made up his mind.

“I need a job.  You wouldn’t even have to pay me.  I’ll work for tips.”  I don’t know why I said that.  I need a paycheck and this crowd didn’t look loaded with wealth, nor own anything worth stealing.

“Where ya staying?”

“My car.  Could you recommend something?”  Realizing I'm biting my nails, I thrust my hands into my ski-jacket pockets.

“Okay, here’s what I’ll offer ya.  You work for tips.  There is a rooming house on Bell Street.  I know the owner.  She’ll give you a room while you earn your tips.”

“When do I begin?”  This was too easy but I kept a poker face.

It gets busy in the evening.  How about you work six until close.  That’s usually around two o’clock in the morning.”

“Deal.”  I put my hand out and his big paw gave mine a firm hand shake.

Sam scribbled the address with a note that read:  OK to rent room – will pay later.

***


The old painted lady stood proud on Bell Street.  She looked like a child’s birthday cake of frothy pink, cream, and mint green icing.  Snow collected in its nooks and crannies.  A covered porch swept across the front and continued on each side. 

Reluctantly, I parked my clunker in front of the rooming house.  Only a foot of snow would serve to make my car look decent for such a magnificent home.  I stood on the welcome mat with my box and listened to laughter coming from inside before ringing the bell which chimed ding dong ding.  The house radiated warmth.

When the door swung open an aged woman in a long swirling canary yellow skirt and a magenta colored turtle-neck sweater greeted me.  Her wispy gray hair was knotted into a bun on top of her small head.  What must have been her reading glasses, hung from a beaded cord around her neck and rested between her saggy breasts.

“Hello dear.”  Her raspy whiskey and cigarette voice didn’t fit her short stature.

“Hi.  I’m Juliet.  Sam sent me here.”  I handed her the note from him.

“Of course.  Please come in.”  She stepped back and waved me in with a liver-spotted hand into the foyer.  “How’s my Sammy doing?”

“He looked fine to me.”

“I’m Ruby by the way.  Sammy’s grandmother.”

“Very nice to meet you, ma’am.  I’m new to town and Sam said you may have a room available.”  My eyes darted around at the high ceiling and walls covered in faded cabbage rose wallpaper.  The furniture, reminiscent of the style my Aunt Delia sells at her antique shop in New Orleans.  Much of it covered with lace doilies topped with porcelain figurines of dogs.

“We’re just about to have some tea and crackers.”  As if on cue for food, two standard poodles, one white and the other black shot out from another room and sat on either side of Ruby.

“Ah, there you are.  This is Sunshine and Rainbow.”  Their names didn’t make any sense so I couldn’t tell who was who.

My heart sank.  “Well, I hope this won’t be a problem, but I have a puppy in this box.  I found him abandoned on the side of the road.” I thrust the box toward her so Ruby could see inside.

“Aw…you poor thing.”  Her spindly arms scooped up the multi-colored puppy and held him in the air.  “Holy moly girl…you got yourself a mountain dog.”

My heart sank further.  The animal would become huge.  “Well, I suppose I could try to find him a good home.  Maybe I could run an ad in the local newspaper.”  I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep him, but I wanted to make sure he was taken care of properly.

“Well let’s not worry about that right now.  We should get acquainted and I want you to meet some of the others.”  With that she carried the pup into the parlor that smelled of mildew and roses.

The others were a fine assortment that bewildered me.


Word Count:  1575

Character Sketch - Juliet  (E) Characterization of Juliet #1841161 by Endless Enigma