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Ugly(38)

By:Margaret McHeyzer


“Yes, Sir,” I say as I scan the items he has. Milk, bread, coffee cream, deodorant, and a few other things.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“No, Sir. We’re just busy tonight.”

“I see,” he says as he looks around at the other busy registers. “As long as you’re alright, Lily.”

“Yes, Sir.” I finish scanning the last item and say, “That’ll be forty-eight dollars and six cents, sir.” Mr. Hackly takes a fifty out of his wallet and hands it to me. But instead of passing it over, he grips my hand tightly in his, squeezing. “Sir?” I look at him and silently plead to let my hand go. What he’s doing is aggressive, almost like he’s warning me.

“I’ll see you when you get back to my home, Lily. Keep the change.” He picks his bag up and walks out of the store not once looking at me. This time, he’s saying he can kick me out in a heartbeat.

What do I do?

Sometimes it’s better to stay with the devil you know, instead of risking it all on the devil you don’t know. Isn’t it?

But I’m really confused about what to do. If I tell Trent, he’ll tell Mr. Hackly and then I might get in trouble. What do I do?

Just before my break, Stacey comes out to the floor and I get her attention to come talk to me. I have to pretend I don’t know what happened in the bathroom, but I’m not sure I can look her in the eyes either.

“What do you need?” she asks curtly.

“What time will I finish, so I can let Trent know?”

“At midnight.”

“Thank you,” I say, and continue on with my work.

But Stacey doesn’t leave. She waits until I finish serving the customer I’m on, then she comes behind the register to stand beside me. “Do you like working here, Lily?” she asks, her voice very low.

“Yes, ma’am.” I start to scan the next set of groceries, and Stacey stays beside me.

“Good. Would you like a job here when you return for vacation?”

“Very much, ma’am.”

“Then remember I have the power to give you work, or toss your ugly ass out.” She, like Mr. Hackly, is warning me.

“Yes, ma’am,” I say as I keep my head down and avoid looking at her. I don’t want to meet her eyes, because I don’t want her to know it was me in the bathroom while they….well, while they had sex. “I understand.” I keep working, waiting for her overwhelmingly aggressive presence to leave.

“Good then. We won’t have a problem.” Out of the corner of my eye I see her leave. Her heels clack against the concrete flooring, and I can hear the sound get smaller and smaller.

When I finish with the last of my customers before my break, I close off my register and go to the staff room to get my purse and to call Trent. I walk out and go toward the deli so I can get something to eat while I dial Trent’s number.

“Shhh, it’s herrrrr,” I hear a woman slur in the background.

“Hey, babe. How’s work?” Trent says, but he sounds intoxicated, too.

“Good. Um, I finish at midnight.”

“Yeeeeeaaaaahh, about that, babe. You’ll have to catch a bus home.” I hear some people laughing in the background. “Achuly, you best walk ‘cause you’re looking real fat. I feeeeeeeeel like I’m fucking a piiiig.” There’s a huge uproar of laughter from whoever he’s with.

“It’ll be midnight, Trent. I don’t want to walk back on my own. I’ll get a cab.”

“Noooo you fucking won’t. I’m not letting you spend myyyyyy money on cabs. You can walk, you faaaaat coooow.” Then there’s mooing noises in the background.

“Um, okay. I’ll walk. Bye, Trent.” I won’t walk, it’s too late for me to walk back on my own. I don’t hear anything from Trent before I hang up. I go into the deli and one of the young men who works here is serving, and there’s another man who’s standing in front of me waiting to be served.

I stand and wait, and think about how I’m going to get home. “Usual, Max?” the guy serving asks the gentleman, who’s now moved to the serving counter.

“Y-y-yes, p-p-please,” he says with a stutter.

I can’t see his face, but he’s tall and dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. “Working late tonight are you?”

“Y-yep. Anoth-another nigh-night at the ho-ho-hospital.”

“Hope it’s not too busy for you.”

The guy chuckles and says, “Wh-when isn’t it bu-busy?”

“Yeah.” He looks down at the roll he’s making ‘Max’ then looks back up to him. “Juice, too?”