Gossiping Nitwits

As soon as Mom was asleep, I was right back out again. Violet had gone out with Junie and Amber so I didn't have to fork over any extra money for this to stay a secret. It was humid and the smell of rain hung in the air like a plane right before dropping a bomb. The streetlights were on but that hadn't stopped me from going out late since I was eight. Plus, it wasn't like Sheriff Tom would stop me and ask questions. He was more concerned about who was in his bed with his wife when he wasn't home than any crime. I swear, they should just go get on Maury and be done with it. (Yes, Maury airs in small towns too.)

I walked down Harbow Drive. It wasn't quiet either. The Johnsons fought while their son, Greg, was sleeping. That kid could sleep through anything. Once, there was a five alarm fire (whatever that means) and he slept right through it. Mrs. Walker and her two badass monkeys were outside catching fireflies. I felt bad for those poor bugs. They would either die by being smooched by Yasmine's little hands or from Brian Jr. putting them into a jar with no holes. I saw Charlotte, the local drug addict, shooting up by the corner. She smiled sleepily and waved. I waved back and walked over to Saratina's Cantina and Pizzeria.

Saratina's seventeen year old niece, Rayven, was manning the register. I smiled at God. I had left my wallet at home. Ray was so much nicer than her aunt because she understood when my mother was cooking. She too had to experience the awful watermelon cobbler. "What did she do this time?"

"Peach and Broccoli Casserole."

"Wow, that sounds bad. You just wait right here and I'll get you a delicious pepperoni pizza."

We both giggled at the irony of that. Saratina made the absolute worse pizzas in town. In fact, her revenue has gone down 98% since they build a Papa Johns across the street. But, Miss Saratina was a family friend and she never charged us a dime. (Good too since I didn't exactly have a dime at the moment.) I waited patiently as Ray prepared a pepperoni pizza. In the meantime, I read one of the old newspapers that was printed into the counter tops. It was from 1965 and talked about the Civil Rights Movement. Sit-ins were happening everywhere in Georgia. Luckily, since a lot of the KKK either died or was carted into the nursing home, Monroe had gotten better.

Ray returned six and a half minutes later with the pizza. The crust looked like cardboard and the pizza had bathed in grease. Just how I liked it. I took a bite and both grease and spit ran onto my plate.

"Yuck," I murmured as I took another bite. "Can I get a milkshake too?"

"You sure can," Ray said. The milkshakes were better than the pizza by a long shot. They were what was keeping the restaurant afloat until Saratina decided to market them for less than they were sold in the restaurant. Then everything went downhill.

"Here you go, baby. One strawberry milkshake with whipped stuff and a Maraschino cherry. Just the way you like it."

"Thanks."

I heard the door open but opted not to turn around. I knew who it was by the way the door had opened. Mr. Hannigan plopped down next to me, nearly breaking the chair, and ordered a vanilla milkshake. Then, he turned to me and smiled.

"Hey there, Samantha. How's it going?"

"Sam. I'm doing fine."

"How's Chloe? Is she liking Sacramento?"

"She said the Ball Sac sucks and she wants to come home."

"That's the spirit. Tell her keep her head up and she'll get through it," Mr. Hannigan said. He had a nasty habit of asking a question and not giving a damn about what came out of your mouth.

"What's the trouble, Mr. Hannigan?" Ray asked as she set down the milkshake. She too had that nasty habit.

"My damn mistress is pregnant." Gee, what else is new? Mr. Hannigan knocked his mistress up every nine months and was always complaining since there was always some reason she couldn't get rid of it. If you ask me, he should just buy more condoms and shut the hell up about it. "And now Rebecca's got the job at the hospital so we can't abort."

"So don't," I suggested.

"I can't do that... You two are too young to understand." THEN, WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU TELL US YOU FAT BASTARD!!!

Mr. Hannigan left the shop hurriedly, leaving the money on the table. Ray smiled. "Doesn't he know by now that Becky knows? He has five kids with his mistress and they all look alike. SHE KNOWS, YOU FAT CUNT!!!" I laughed. Ray was the only one who cursed around me. "You'd better head home now." I'd finished my pizza. Time for some TV.

"Okay. Thanks Ray!"

"Any time! See you tomorrow." Most definitely.

I rounded the corner and headed for the salon, the one place where there was cable TV in this town. Like I said, Monroe was like the 1980s for technology. It was there, it just wasn't exactly popular. Most of us still had those stupid box TVs with fuzzy reception and ten channels. I'd begged Mom to let us upgrade and get a flat screen but Mom's practically Amish. She says, "Jesus and oxygen are the two most important things in your life." The salon normally didn't change the channel from E!, Lifetime, or Oxygen anyway which Mom was totally against. But, those crazy people remind me why I enjoy living in a small town: you are less likely to eat the thing your baby grew in or put mayo in your sister's junk. Life lessons, man, life lessons.

There were ten women sitting in the salon and it was only eight. More people would flock in as time went on. Keeping up with the Kardashians came on at eight thirty and I don't know a woman besides my mother and the preacher's wife that has missed an episode without being terminally ill. Casey and Mandy, two bitches from my school sat on the waiting bench. Sally Mae tended to Germaine, Rayven's little sister, while drying Mrs. Hannigan's hair. Teresa and Flo were reading magazines by the TV. Veronica was just there for the TV, evident by her lounging on the leather sofa. Tess's chair was empty as always. That's my cue.

When I came in, I headed straight for Tess's chair. Tess is one of my favorite hairdressers and she always has a seat open for me since to one wants to go to her. Oh yeah, Tess is a lesbian (one of two in our town) and very few women are comfortable around her. Before she "came out," tons of girls wanted her to do their hair since she had studied at the hair school on Magnolia Rd. But now, everyone's mean and weird to her. No one will let her touch them, talk to them, or even look at them without it being reported to the Gossiping Club. Me and Chloe are the only ones brave enough to talk to her and we're judged for that too.

"Hey Sam. What will it be?"

"What's new?" I was always letting Tess try new styles on me. My mom's face had turned paler than a cloud the time Tess had given me an Elf Princess Braid, where she took my then-long hair, braided it waterfall style, and wrapped it around my head. Then, she poured blue dye onto my hair, staining it blue for a few months. "Do you have anything special for me?"

"Always, my good customer," Tess said with a wink. There was no sarcasm in her voice but plenty of emphasis. "I have the Hayley Williams. I will straighten your hair and dye half of it pink and half orange. It will look so good."

I could hear Casey and Mandy stifle their laughter like they did with the Elf Princess Braid and the Grass Skirt, a fun hairdo where Tess plaited my hair and dyed it neon green. "Do you two have a problem with that?" I asked them.

"You trying to impress him?"

"Who? Kevin? Hell no."

"No. That cutie next door to you. The one with the dimples and the cute accent."

Dimples? Accent? They were staring harder than I was, that's for sure. "No. I'm trying to kill my mother before she kills me. She made broccoli and peach casserole."

"I saw that on Rachel Ray," Flo said. She hadn't even looked up from her magazine. It looked good."

"C'mon now... Miss Janelle made it. How as it?" Sally Mae asked as she curled Germaine's ends with the flat iron. Germaine winced in pain as Sally Mae allowed the gold part to touch her skin. "Sorry baby. You know I can't see. You are short."

Germaine groaned and put her head down. I felt sorry for Germaine. Sally Mae had been doing my hair since I was like six months and trust me when I say she has no morals when it comes to someone else's body. She had burnt, pulled, and cut just about every hair on my body at least twice and has only said sorry once to me. The only reason she's nice to Germaine and Rayven is because they are kin to Saratina, who takes nothing from no one.

"I didn't eat that shit," My cursing made pretty much everyone gasp. I cursed like a sailor since I was like eight and still shocked people. "It was lumpy and smelled like everything inside was burnt but was somehow still yellowish."

"Yuck!" Tess as she trimmed my ends. "That just sounds awful. So, who are these new neighbors?"

Damn small towns... "It's this guy named Taylor and his family. There's a girl living with them too. Her name's Tehra. She's not a terrorist."

"That's what they all say," Casey said. "I'll get her to talk."

She was hammering her fist into her hand. Casey and her brother Elliot were world renowned for their ability to beat the living hell out of anyone. I mean anyone. They are most famous for the time they both teamed up on their older sister, Chrystiana. When Sheriff Tom got there, his oldest daughter was being kicked in the sternum by the other two and laughing morbidly as blood drizzled from her mouth. According to the GC, all the sheriff did was step over her and run upstairs and walk into his bedroom to see who was in there.

I rolled my eyes. "She's really nice. She acts like a female version of Peter. She's childish and laughs a lot. She watches a lot of SpongeBob."

"They have cable?" Veronica exclaimed. The whole salon was looking at me. More cable equaled more Kardashian time.

"No. They just have internet. Tehra has a laptop too."

"That's not what Evan said. He said she had wild eyes and he couldn't see her mouth but he knew she was growling at him. Just because he told a joke about Chloe," Mandy said. "Is this true Samantha?"

"She was laughing. And it's Sam."

"How do you mix up laughter and anger?" Terri asked. She was onto her second Elle magazine.

"You are Evan, apparently," I said.

Mandy smiled at me. "You know what I think?"

"I don't particularly care."

"You want a rebound guy so bad. Just can't get over the fact that Kevin dumped you that you will defend a terrorist to get a guy."

"You know what I think? You are so pissed that can't get a guy, you blame everyone else for the obvious fact that no one likes you. Have you ever though that it was you?"

Mandy looked hurt. Good, she should be. I'm not desperate, I'm just honest. "You're done, darling!" Tess announced happily. "Go under the dryers."

I sat under the dryers as more and more women began to fill the room. It was eight twenty-eight. This was some season finale. I wasn't really interested. I spent twenty-eight minutes trying to see if I had acquired heat vision. Since I hadn't, I walked straight out of the salon and home once my hair was dry. I spent the whole night dreaming of awful ways Mandy could die.