Everybody Knows Jackie Rose (pt 5)
Joseph Rose enters the department store rubbing the cold out of his arms. Christmas has come here to die, he says to anyone, flicking an ornament as he walks by a row of aluminum trees; a young thing in an elf hat whose name tag says KATY corners him, asking him if she can help, her smile set so tight it might never come off. Why thank you miss, Joseph says, not breaking his stride. But I’m the kind who knows what she wants when she sees it and not a second before.
Katy follows him, happily listing their sales; Joseph stops so abruptly that she bumps into him, her hat falling off. Look at this, he says to her, showing her a floor length black leather coat. That is pure loveliness. He shakes it gently off the hangar, holding it up. Look at that stitching, he says, and smell that. He holds it up to her nose and she giggles, turning red. You girls don’t know nothing, he says, patting her elbow. You can’t just buy things and throw them on, you got to listen to them. He holds the coat to his chest, closing his eyes and humming. Your girlfriend would really like that, Katy says nervously; she’s ready to run but he has no intention of letting her. Taking her by the hand he leads her into the aisles, weaving through the shoppers, stopping to look at a shoe, a skirt, a blouse, asking Katy what she thinks but the girl can’t seem to talk; after circling the entire store and piling up her arms with selections he asks her to take him to where he can change. Katy says Please don’t, but Joseph only laughs. It’s tight in the fitting room and Katy presses herself into the corner while Joseph tries on the purple dress first, asking her to zip him up. My brother and I came here every year with our grannie so she could get a hat, he says. That was her present to herself. He turns this way and that, looking at his ass in the mirror. I can still hear her saying Oh God, Joseph, at least let me show you how to put that blush on right because you look like a rodeo clown.
Katy laughs in spite of herself. See? Joseph says. Now we’re having some fun. He works through the clothing pile, agreeing with her shaky assessments about color and season. From inside of his jacket that has lost all but a single rhinestone he produces a bag containing his wig. You should know, he says, slipping it on, I rarely let anybody see me without my helmet.
They’re not going to let you buy anything, Kate says miserably. They’re just going to tell you to leave, the guy who runs this place does it all the time to some kinds of people.
Sweetness, I’m just getting the full view, Jackie says, putting on the expensive black coat over the dress, looking ridiculous with her jeans on.
I knew you, Katy says. Do you remember me?
I remember you very well, Jackie says. That’s why I came here, honey.
She holds out a roll of bills to her and Katy takes them. That’s fifty bucks, she says. I’m giving that to you. It’s a present.
But we weren’t friends, Katy says. My friends didn’t like you. I don’t understand.
Come on, Jackie says. I’ll show you. She takes Katie’s hand and they exit, and when they can be seen by the customers and the manager and the guard at the door she makes Katy’s hand into a fist and punches herself in the mouth. Katy shrieks in pain, holding her arm to her chest as Jackie wails, showing her bleeding mouth to everybody. She hit me! she screams, pointing at the girl. Oh my god she hit me!
Her manager is confronting her; customers are looking around each other to see better; the guard helps Jackie up, flinching and letting go. And then Jackie is gone, out into the snowfall pulling that gorgeous fur collar close against her throat as she runs. She catches breath in a laundromat filled with fat grandmothers, shaking snow out of her wig. Last year she did it to get boots for True; the year before to get gloves for her brother. It isn’t as fun, she decides, to be a thief for only yourself.
*
- 1
- 0
Comments
Sign in or get an account to comment.