a day (# 125)

*

Jada is doing GREAT! She’s on her way to work at Boston Market. 

*

Josiah, heavily tattooed, short boyish haircut and throwback Malcolm X glasses, stands in front of a pizza joint in Springfield. The smell of fruity candy wafts with her when she gets in the car.

“Sorry. I smell like food. “

“You smell like fruity candy.”

“Oh. Perfume covers it up.” She’s going to her next job.

“What’s your other job?”

“I don’t know for sure. Usually, I provide companionship, cooking, and cleaning. Going now to a new client.” She takes a phone call, and I hear that she is called Kay. Otherwise, she is silent until we arrive at her destination, and she thanks me and says goodbye. 

*

Jawad, his wife, young son, and 8-month-old baby daughter come from Afghanistan. Crammed into the back seat, he smiles when I ask him how his day is going.

“No English. Pashtun.” That’s okay. We manage to communicate with hand gestures, facial expressions, and goodwill. I learn they’ve been here two months. They like it so far. They’re happy to be here. After confirming that the building I’ve pulled up to is the food stamps office, they spill out of the car, thanking me with great smiles, many nods, and much open energy. I wait as they approached the doors, watching them try to enter through the door marked EXIT in big red letters. It doesn’t work. Then they try the other one—the one that says ENTRANCE.

*

Iris and her friend left Puerto Rico after Hurricane Maria. Their husbands were going to follow them here but never showed up.

So they wound up together as a couple. 

“Todo obra por lo bueno,” Iris tells me—“everything works out for the best”; but also warns that “mala yerba no muere”— “weeds never die.”

*

After I pick him up in front of the Pride gas station on State Street in Springfield, Chris angrily scratches a lottery ticket, tosses it on the floor, and mutters: “I don’t care what he says; he’s not going to control my life: if it was up to him, we’d sit in the house and rot all day.”

“Who, your dad?”

“No. My boyfriend.”

“Ah. I see. Well, you’re out and not rotting, so I guess you got the better end of that deal.”

“Facts.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to the Racing Mart to buy another lottery ticket.”

*

Lili is twenty and just found out she is pregnant. Her full name is Liliani. Lili for her grandma Lilian and “ani” for “on E,” because when her mother went into labor, her car was “on E.” She worries about how her little brother will take her pregnancy. He’s used to her caring for him pretty much full-time. Lili watched her father die of a drug overdose when she was fourteen. She is an old soul.

*

Jacob has teal hair and wears striped leggings under baggy shorts and pink shoes. I see him sprinting wildly across the street from his house to the car. He’s nice-looking. KC lags. She is his girlfriend, homely and overweight. 

They each cheated on each other, but now they’re back together. 

They’ve been in lots of programs. But each of them has escaped by jumping out of windows. At her program, vegan staff members told KC she was fat. So she stopped eating, and they told her she looked good. They also told her she smelled bad. 

They alternate taking the lead in the storytelling, unfolding one tragic injustice after another. I keep saying I’m sorry. But they just keep laughing. It’s like they’re not there.

Just as they open the door to get out at the mall, Justin says thanks and laughs again. KC laughs, too, then adds, “Oh. And also, my dad raped me because I reminded him of my mother.” Before I can respond, the door closes. 

*

Brittney says Chicopee is dangerous. 

“A guy was killed right here. Shot up. I have a misdemeanor, so things aren’t great right now. But a girl I knew back home has a felony! She was really popular too—pretty. Known for her bathing suit pictures. Probably the most popular girl at school. Hit her boyfriend on the head with a baseball bat.”

“Jesus! That sounds serious!”

“Yeah, but he was such a snitch. I mean telling on a popular pretty girl like that? I mean who does that? I would totally have done the same thing. A boy said I was harassing him but he was harassing me and then he manipulated the law and claimed he had texts from me but it was from someone else’s phone anyway. People are out to get me. I want to go to school to get a degree in applied psychology or else business or journalism but it’s hard with a misdemeanor and also being schizophrenic and bipolar and not taking my medication. I tried working but I had to quit to go to a mental hospital. People are watching me all the time, trying to catch me out.”

“I’m sorry, Brittney. You’ve had some real challenges.”

“Oh. I’m just trying to entertain you because I heard that telling people sad stories makes them feel better about their own lives.” 

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