first short story EVER for Creative Writing class
Sweating from the August heat, Alaina paid the cab driver. Turning to take in the sunset, she walked up the creaking wooden steps to the large Victorian house that had been converted into three rather large apartments, moderately priced for college students. Noting the light on the second story, she grinned and bounced up the last two. One hand on her hip, dance bag slung over her shoulder, she pounded on the foreboding wooden door. Hearing the footsteps descend, she subconsciously started doing a jig of anticipation. It had been a year since she’d seen Millie, and this was going to be their first time exploring Boston on their own.
The door flung open, and Alaina took on a “ta-dah” pose, inviting a hug from her little sister. Millie managed to get out a strangled “gah!” noise, and rushed to embrace Alaina. It had always amused her how completely opposite they were, and yet they were the best of friends. Alaina was older by fifteen months, had thick brown hair, deep blue eyes and a tall stature of 5’9”. Millie, however, was almost 5’1 (she was quick to tell anyone who put her at 5-foot). She had shoulder length blonde hair, and teal eyes flecked with gold. Alaina was a financially impulsive, emotional English major who lived halfway across the country and played piano, while stoic, frugal Millie had stayed in New England pursuing a degree in Industrial Engineering and played rugby. As far as siblings go, there was never a rivalry; it was almost always an alliance.
“How are you!?!” Millie asked, motioning for Alaina to follow her up the steps. “How was your trip!?!”
“Well, I’m tired…really hungry…and permanently scarred.”
Millie turned to shoot her sister a questioning look.
“Do I have a story for you,” Alaina laughed. “So I was on the plane from Detroit to here, getting all settled into my seat, reading my book, and this man sits next to me. I think ‘awww, what a cute old man, with his Cosby sweater and tortoise-shell glasses and balding and liver spots’…then, unfortunately, I heard part of his phone conversation. It was muffled, but then out of the blue I hear ‘I-I-I can’t w-wait to s-s-see you…in a c-c-compromising position.” She shuddered.
“Gross,” said Millie, very matter-of-factly. “OK, just throw your stuff anywhere, help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge - oh! Except for that Busch Light, that’s skunky. We’re saving it for someone we don’t like.”
Alaina snickered and put her bag next to the fireplace, shuffled along the hardwood floor into the kitchen, grabbed a Smirnoff Grape from the fridge and tried to find food that hadn’t yet expired. She settled on a package of Goldfish crackers. Glancing at the kitchen table she saw one of Millie’s open textbooks, papers spread all over. She wondered how one could make any mathematical sense of what looked like hieroglyphics. Shrugging, she came back, curled up against the arm of the bigger of the two couches, and sipped her drink.
“I don’t know why you don’t just throw the expired stuff out.”
“What!?! It’s probably still good, and I don’t want to waste any money. I’ll get Mom and Dad to buy groceries when they come visit.”
Alaina rolled her eyes and chuckled. Millie’s roommates were gone, so the two stayed up until the wee hours of the morning catching up on who liked whom, who went where, crazy party stories, and ended with making plans for tomorrow’s trip into Boston.
“I friggin’ love it here!” Alaina practically shouted to no one in particular, raising her arms to the sky, and grinning to where you couldn’t tell if she was squinting from smiling or the sun. They had taken the train in from Worcester at 10 that morning. After a quick stop at Dunkin Donuts for two-medium-hazelnuts-with-cream, the girls were ready to take on the day.
Millie looked a little embarrassed, so Alaina tried to calm down. It was hard, though, Boston Common was amazing. An older man dressed all in ragged black sat on the park bench near the trail the two girls were walking. Nudging Millie and pointing, Alaina was captivated by this man pulling an accordion out of his bag. She had always been a fan of things out of the ordinary.
Suddenly, another man came up to the park bench, carrying a case. The two men started arguing, and Millie uncomfortably pulled Alaina forward. They slowly walked and chatted, having earlier decided they would make the loop around the park, and then make their way to Quincy Market for shopping. They walked by the pond that had the Swan Boats, and remembered the book their teacher read them in 4th grade: The Trumpet of the Swan by E.B. White. Unintentionally dressed alike in denim capris, red tanks tops and black flip flops, they asked a tourist to take a picture of them in front of one of the swans. Alaina decided that this photograph would be sent to their mother, who had a collection of pictures in her wallet depicting the two girls together, every year since Millie’s birth.
As they came back around to the first park bench, it was obvious something had changed for the two elderly musicians. Instead of a heated argument, there was a chimerical sound drifting toward the girls; like something from Cirque du Soleil. When the bench was in view, Alaina grinned and giggled, completely charmed by what she saw and heard. The two men were now seated next to each other: one with an accordion, the other with a dulcimer. Their cases were opened in front of them, and Alaina reached into her back pocket. Finding two singles, she put one in each of the cases, and smiled at the men in tattered clothes and scraggly beards, who had enchanted her with their music.
“I don’t know why you do that,” Millie said as they walked away. “You could spend that on something better, more useful. Or you could save it. It’s not like it’s really going to help them. It’ll maybe get them part of a meal from McDonalds...or soap, they looked kinda grungy.”
Alaina shrugged, “Yeah, but I liked the music. I wanted to give them something in return. Plus, it’s not like I can’t spare two dollars. It’s just one less soda I’ll drink, and God knows that’s not a bad thing.”
“Whatever…I just know I’ll never do it. I mean, sometimes I feel bad for bums, but I’m a poor college student.”
“Says the girl who’s planning on a mini-shopping spree today. Besides, those were street musicians; you know I’m a bleeding heart for starving artists.”
“Anyway! Time to shop!”
***
Quincy Market was just as unique as the Common, but in more of a consumer sense. It has any store one would find in an everyday, run of the mill shopping mall, but then there’s the row of kiosks called the “Bull Market.” Forty-three kiosks line up outside and sell unique New England treasures, usually handmade. Alaina and Millie walked up and down the market, noting the things they would possibly buy, and exacting sarcastic commentary on everything else.
“I mean, who wouldn’t want a blown glass lobster?” Millie asked, straight-faced.
“You can keep your fragile lobster, I want that wicked pissa frog from the ‘Cheers’ store. Who would’ve thought a bar would stitch its name on a stuffed animal?” Alaina answered back, just as dead-pan. She loved it when her New England vernacular returned.
The girls walked toward the larger stores, and turned to enter Zoinks! A Wicked Cool Toy Store. Alaina had just purchased the glass-blown lobster they’d been making fun of, realizing their mother would actually like it. She also found a Red Sox blanket that could very well have been Black Market; but for $15, she wasn’t going to complain. As she was putting her money back in her wallet, a grungy-looking man came up to her. He had torn jeans, an unbuttoned, yellow flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, greasy gray hair, and a missing tooth. He was small-framed, but something about him was intimidating.
“Miss? Hey! Miss!” he said, startling her.
“Millie! Hold up,” she called, and then looked at the man.
He smiled; nicotine stains tainted his teeth. As he spoke, his hot breath wafted over. Alaina tried not to gag.
“Can you spare somethin’? Some change? Just a dollar, or even a quarter? It would help me out so much. I just gotta get to South Station. Anything would help.”
Alaina smiled cautiously. By this time Millie had come up beside her, hands on her hips, saying “We have to go. Leave her alone.”
Alaina grabbed a one from the change she had been putting back, and gave it to the man. “There ya go,” she said, quickly grabbing Millie and rushing into the toy store, never looking back. This was why she usually only carried her debit card, and no more than $10 cash.
Shaken, she tried to calm herself by closely studying the life-size Harry Potter figure made of Legos. Millie started lecturing her again and, as sometimes happened, pulled rank as older sister, though she was younger. Alaina, though, had been too scared to deny the man his money. Something about him didn’t seem right. At least the older men in Boston Common hadn’t accosted the walking park-goers. This man’s aggressiveness caught her off-guard, and she’d much rather be safe than sorry.
They decided to go out by Faneuil Hall, as there was almost always something going on. The girls had assumed correctly, and were greeted by a crowd encircling a man on a unicycle, juggling tennis balls. He threw them out into the audience, and asked for whoever caught a ball to throw it back. The next thing Alaina knew, a fuzzy, neon-green sphere whizzed by her head, and was readily caught by Millie. Both girls laughed as Millie threw the ball back, and thoughts of the homeless man quickly dissipated as they got swept up in the unicyclist’s comedy.
***
“Dude, I need food,” Millie said frankly as the show ended, pulling her blonde hair into a ponytail. “I think my stomach’s trying to communicate with me by some kind of code.”
“I think mine just answered yours,” Alaina laughed, blushing as her stomach growled loud enough that a passing businessman turned to look at them with raised eyebrows.
“Wanna find that little hole-in-the-wall place we went to a few years ago? With the parents and Aunt Sandy and Auntie Sarah? That place was wicked awesome!”
“Ayuh, but let’s just play it by ear. Little Italy’s got more than one ‘wicked awesome’ restaurant. We’ll explore!”
“Unless we die of hunger first,” Millie grumbled.
***
“I’ll have the seafood Alfredo,” Alaina told the waitress, happy to finally get real scallops, lobster, and haddock, “and a glass of Black Swan Shiraz.”
Millie wrinkled her nose, shot Alaina a look, and got Chicken Parmesan and a glass of water. Alaina knew Millie didn’t like wine, and that was fine; but the look had been because the glass of wine was $7.50. Normally she’d have just gone with water, too. She was as poor as the next college girl, but this was Boston! And she’d be damned if her sister’s frugality would get in the way of her having a good night.
They had found the little place they’d gone to a few years ago. It was in the basement of a little bakery whose cannoli display barely veiled the look of some Godfather-like goings on inside. However, the sisters looked longingly at the baked goods, and decided to grab some pizzelle on their way out.
The restaurant was tiny, with room for a total capacity of twenty people. There was no lighting aside from the flickering candles, in amber-colored glass jars, sitting on the tables and shelves along the wall. There was a dark, wooden bench along one wall, providing seating for three small, square tables. Other tables were dispersed throughout the dark cellar, able to seat maybe two people. Red and white checkered table cloths covered all the dining spaces.
Their food came, and both girls smiled and thanked the waitress. They had already temporarily satiated their hunger with Italian bread dipped in olive oil and shredded parmesan cheese, but that was nothing compared to these pasta dinners. Alaina picked up her glass, Millie followed suit, and the two clinked glasses.
“Cheers!” they sang.
“Hey, remember that time-,” Alaina started.
“Yes!” Millie cut her off laughing.
They often brought up what happened at the restaurant last time they were there. It had been a summer trip with their parents and aunts. They had stumbled on this place completely by chance, and were very hungry. Surprising everyone, both finished their monstrous plates of pasta. Groaning as they left, as they were so full it hurt to breathe, they looked down at their stomachs. Both had worn shirts that were snug against their flat abdomens, now they were comparing whose stomach had bloated more over the course of that day. Millie had won. This is what Alaina missed about being near her sister: the fact that they could be complete gluttons, and make a game out of it.
As they finished their dinner they realized it was 9:15.
“Shit! Shitshitshit!” they hissed, almost in unison.
Scurrying to get their check and pay, they cursed the lost time. The last train to Worcester left from South at ten, and they still had to get from the Quincy area to South Station. Leaving exactly 15%, Millie took care of the tip. Pizzelle forgotten, she lead the way up the stairs, through the bakery and out into the cooling August night.
The girls were almost running to Quincy Center Station. They dodged between strollers, ducked through Japanese tourist groups snapping pictures, and finally saw the sign for the subway. Alaina’s brown hair flew behind her as she tried to keep up with her sister. Millie was small and athletic, making it easier for her to quickly find her way through the maze of Quincy. Heading around one of the kiosks, Alaina’s attention was caught by a clown on stilts, obviously just getting off work. Looking at the stilts, and not at where she was going, she thudded into someone with enough force to lose her breath and her shopping bags.
“Millie! Hold up!” she gasped, trying to gather up her bags. Millie turned impatiently, and jogged back toward Alaina.
“Well, hello again Miss,” said a nicotine stained mouth.
“Shit,” she whispered.
Backing away, Alaina started rambling about no money, a missed train, she had to get home. Wheezing, trying to catch her breath, she spotted her sister coming toward her.
“Thanks for helping me earlier,” the hot stench rasped; now reeking of whiskey. “Do you have any more? I could really use it, it would help a lot.”
“We have to get to a train, you asshole,” Millie said. “Back off! We don’t have any money!”
“Oh, I seen you two shopping. I know you got money. I gotta get to South still. That’s where you’re goin’ ain’t it? I know you got money. Just to South,” he started menacingly toward Millie. His glazed eyes narrowed and an unsettling grin formed, stretching from ear to ear. Alaina was briefly reminded of Jack Nicholson as the Joker in the Batman movie. He stumbled drunkenly toward Millie, reaching out his wiry arms and grabbing at air as she backed up.
“Holy fuck,” she said in a tiny voice, so unlike herself.
Alaina saw the authority in her sister falter, and whispered “Just give him some money Mil.”
Millie scowled at Alaina. Sighing, she reached into her pocket and grabbed the last bill she had. It was the $20 the girls had been hoping to use for a taxi from the Worcester station back to the apartment.
“Just give it to him, it’s just money Mil.”
Millie glared Alaina; then at the man as if willing his head to explode. Alaina watched her sister and the bum have a stand-off. Crumpling the bill up, Millie dropped the twenty on the cobblestone street. While he bent to grab it, Millie grabbed Alaina and they flew down into the subway.
“Good Lord,” Alaina gasped, and tried to laugh once they were safely on their way to South Station.
Millie sullenly stared out the window, not saying anything. Alaina hated it when her sister was upset, and wanted to lighten the mood. A smile played at her lips as she tried to start a conversation with Millie.
“Well, that’ll make for a fun story, huh? Maybe I can use it for one of my writing classes. Wouldn’t that be cool? What would you want to be called?”
“Shut up, Alaina.”
Surprised, Alaina looked away as tears involuntarily welled in her eyes. Blinking quickly, and swallowing continually, she tried to regain her composure.
“Mil-“
“I don’t care, Alaina! Just shut up. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to listen to you. You had to give him money outside the toy store. Then, you drag me into it! Then! You make me give away the only cash we had for a taxi back to the apartment! If you hadn’t given him money in the first place, we could’ve just had an uneventful day! We wouldn’t be late now; and we definitely would have money to get us home! So fuck your bleeding heart”
Alaina bit her lip, and unsuccessfully tried to bite her tongue.
“You know what Millie? YOU shut up! I’m sorry we don’t have money now, but you know what? At least we’re not dead or maimed! Wouldn’t you rather give money than put yourself in more danger? He was grabbing for you! I was scared he was going to try something! So fuck you! Don’t put all the blame on me! He was crazy and drunk. He came after me! So yeah, I understand you’re pissed, but don’t take it all out on me.”
“Whatever,” Millie rolled her eyes “Just stop throwing yours, and my, fucking money away. I could’ve taken care of it and him without giving him that bill; and he wouldn’t have come after you if you hadn’t given him money the first time.”
Setting her jaw, Alaina moved to the seat across the aisle from Millie. She drew her knees up to her chin, and wrapped her arms around her legs. They sat in silence for about ten minutes, the tension slipping away like the posters on the subway walls.
“Mil?” she tentatively asked, looking across the aisle.
Millie glanced over, one eyebrow raised.
“What do you call a leper in a bathtub?”
No answer, but her eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
“Stew!”
Thinking she saw Millie crack a bit of a smile, Alaina decided to keep the bad jokes coming.
“What do you call three lepers in a box?”
“I don’t know.”
“A puzzle!”
Millie couldn’t keep a straight face, and started chuckling. “That’s wicked hard sick, you know that?”
Alaina shrugged and grinned.
“I hate spending money,” Millie stated. “And I hate giving it to people like them even more. It’s such a waste. He’s just gonna spend it on more booze for himself…I wanted to spend it on booze for myself. Or at least spend it on the taxi so we didn’t have to walk through the Worcester ghetto at night.”
“I know,” she stated, sliding next to her sister and putting her feet up on the seat facing them.
They both sighed and watched the subway walls pass. They knew they had missed the train to Worcester. The next one wouldn’t be leaving until 6:50 the next morning.
Forty-five minutes later, as they exited the subway and entered the train station, they looked at the murals on the wall that depicted great moments in Bruins, Red Sox and Celtics history. It brought to life the stories the girls had heard from their father since they were old enough to understand sports. She and Millie stood in front of it for a few minutes, smiling as they took it all in. Somehow this New England pride always comforted Alaina.
She meandered into a bookstore, while Millie went to find a bathroom. Picking a cheap romance novel off a wire rack, she pulled out her debit card. She needed something to pass the next seven hours. After buying the book, two waters and a can of Pringles, she found the waiting area. Millie was lying across some of the blue plastic chairs. Settling in a chair near her sister’s feet, Alaina opened her book. Quickly, she put it down and started rummaging through one of her bags. The station’s air conditioning was great when it was the middle of the day and people made the heat even more unbearable, but now she was shivering. Looking at her younger sister, whom she often turned to for advice and sometimes forgot was the younger sister, she noticed her shivering, too. Knowing Millie wouldn’t complain, Alaina took out her Red Sox blanket and covered them both.
“You should get me a coffee,” Millie said sleepily.
“Shut up! Get your own when you wake up; you have more money stored away than I do.”
“I know I do, because I get other people to buy things for me.”
Alaina rolled her eyes, smiled and opened her book, while Millie started to fall asleep. After twenty-one years of being together, nothing had changed except age and height.
“I friggin’ love it here,” she whispered.
The door flung open, and Alaina took on a “ta-dah” pose, inviting a hug from her little sister. Millie managed to get out a strangled “gah!” noise, and rushed to embrace Alaina. It had always amused her how completely opposite they were, and yet they were the best of friends. Alaina was older by fifteen months, had thick brown hair, deep blue eyes and a tall stature of 5’9”. Millie, however, was almost 5’1 (she was quick to tell anyone who put her at 5-foot). She had shoulder length blonde hair, and teal eyes flecked with gold. Alaina was a financially impulsive, emotional English major who lived halfway across the country and played piano, while stoic, frugal Millie had stayed in New England pursuing a degree in Industrial Engineering and played rugby. As far as siblings go, there was never a rivalry; it was almost always an alliance.
“How are you!?!” Millie asked, motioning for Alaina to follow her up the steps. “How was your trip!?!”
“Well, I’m tired…really hungry…and permanently scarred.”
Millie turned to shoot her sister a questioning look.
“Do I have a story for you,” Alaina laughed. “So I was on the plane from Detroit to here, getting all settled into my seat, reading my book, and this man sits next to me. I think ‘awww, what a cute old man, with his Cosby sweater and tortoise-shell glasses and balding and liver spots’…then, unfortunately, I heard part of his phone conversation. It was muffled, but then out of the blue I hear ‘I-I-I can’t w-wait to s-s-see you…in a c-c-compromising position.” She shuddered.
“Gross,” said Millie, very matter-of-factly. “OK, just throw your stuff anywhere, help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge - oh! Except for that Busch Light, that’s skunky. We’re saving it for someone we don’t like.”
Alaina snickered and put her bag next to the fireplace, shuffled along the hardwood floor into the kitchen, grabbed a Smirnoff Grape from the fridge and tried to find food that hadn’t yet expired. She settled on a package of Goldfish crackers. Glancing at the kitchen table she saw one of Millie’s open textbooks, papers spread all over. She wondered how one could make any mathematical sense of what looked like hieroglyphics. Shrugging, she came back, curled up against the arm of the bigger of the two couches, and sipped her drink.
“I don’t know why you don’t just throw the expired stuff out.”
“What!?! It’s probably still good, and I don’t want to waste any money. I’ll get Mom and Dad to buy groceries when they come visit.”
Alaina rolled her eyes and chuckled. Millie’s roommates were gone, so the two stayed up until the wee hours of the morning catching up on who liked whom, who went where, crazy party stories, and ended with making plans for tomorrow’s trip into Boston.
“I friggin’ love it here!” Alaina practically shouted to no one in particular, raising her arms to the sky, and grinning to where you couldn’t tell if she was squinting from smiling or the sun. They had taken the train in from Worcester at 10 that morning. After a quick stop at Dunkin Donuts for two-medium-hazelnuts-with-cream, the girls were ready to take on the day.
Millie looked a little embarrassed, so Alaina tried to calm down. It was hard, though, Boston Common was amazing. An older man dressed all in ragged black sat on the park bench near the trail the two girls were walking. Nudging Millie and pointing, Alaina was captivated by this man pulling an accordion out of his bag. She had always been a fan of things out of the ordinary.
Suddenly, another man came up to the park bench, carrying a case. The two men started arguing, and Millie uncomfortably pulled Alaina forward. They slowly walked and chatted, having earlier decided they would make the loop around the park, and then make their way to Quincy Market for shopping. They walked by the pond that had the Swan Boats, and remembered the book their teacher read them in 4th grade: The Trumpet of the Swan by E.B. White. Unintentionally dressed alike in denim capris, red tanks tops and black flip flops, they asked a tourist to take a picture of them in front of one of the swans. Alaina decided that this photograph would be sent to their mother, who had a collection of pictures in her wallet depicting the two girls together, every year since Millie’s birth.
As they came back around to the first park bench, it was obvious something had changed for the two elderly musicians. Instead of a heated argument, there was a chimerical sound drifting toward the girls; like something from Cirque du Soleil. When the bench was in view, Alaina grinned and giggled, completely charmed by what she saw and heard. The two men were now seated next to each other: one with an accordion, the other with a dulcimer. Their cases were opened in front of them, and Alaina reached into her back pocket. Finding two singles, she put one in each of the cases, and smiled at the men in tattered clothes and scraggly beards, who had enchanted her with their music.
“I don’t know why you do that,” Millie said as they walked away. “You could spend that on something better, more useful. Or you could save it. It’s not like it’s really going to help them. It’ll maybe get them part of a meal from McDonalds...or soap, they looked kinda grungy.”
Alaina shrugged, “Yeah, but I liked the music. I wanted to give them something in return. Plus, it’s not like I can’t spare two dollars. It’s just one less soda I’ll drink, and God knows that’s not a bad thing.”
“Whatever…I just know I’ll never do it. I mean, sometimes I feel bad for bums, but I’m a poor college student.”
“Says the girl who’s planning on a mini-shopping spree today. Besides, those were street musicians; you know I’m a bleeding heart for starving artists.”
“Anyway! Time to shop!”
***
Quincy Market was just as unique as the Common, but in more of a consumer sense. It has any store one would find in an everyday, run of the mill shopping mall, but then there’s the row of kiosks called the “Bull Market.” Forty-three kiosks line up outside and sell unique New England treasures, usually handmade. Alaina and Millie walked up and down the market, noting the things they would possibly buy, and exacting sarcastic commentary on everything else.
“I mean, who wouldn’t want a blown glass lobster?” Millie asked, straight-faced.
“You can keep your fragile lobster, I want that wicked pissa frog from the ‘Cheers’ store. Who would’ve thought a bar would stitch its name on a stuffed animal?” Alaina answered back, just as dead-pan. She loved it when her New England vernacular returned.
The girls walked toward the larger stores, and turned to enter Zoinks! A Wicked Cool Toy Store. Alaina had just purchased the glass-blown lobster they’d been making fun of, realizing their mother would actually like it. She also found a Red Sox blanket that could very well have been Black Market; but for $15, she wasn’t going to complain. As she was putting her money back in her wallet, a grungy-looking man came up to her. He had torn jeans, an unbuttoned, yellow flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, greasy gray hair, and a missing tooth. He was small-framed, but something about him was intimidating.
“Miss? Hey! Miss!” he said, startling her.
“Millie! Hold up,” she called, and then looked at the man.
He smiled; nicotine stains tainted his teeth. As he spoke, his hot breath wafted over. Alaina tried not to gag.
“Can you spare somethin’? Some change? Just a dollar, or even a quarter? It would help me out so much. I just gotta get to South Station. Anything would help.”
Alaina smiled cautiously. By this time Millie had come up beside her, hands on her hips, saying “We have to go. Leave her alone.”
Alaina grabbed a one from the change she had been putting back, and gave it to the man. “There ya go,” she said, quickly grabbing Millie and rushing into the toy store, never looking back. This was why she usually only carried her debit card, and no more than $10 cash.
Shaken, she tried to calm herself by closely studying the life-size Harry Potter figure made of Legos. Millie started lecturing her again and, as sometimes happened, pulled rank as older sister, though she was younger. Alaina, though, had been too scared to deny the man his money. Something about him didn’t seem right. At least the older men in Boston Common hadn’t accosted the walking park-goers. This man’s aggressiveness caught her off-guard, and she’d much rather be safe than sorry.
They decided to go out by Faneuil Hall, as there was almost always something going on. The girls had assumed correctly, and were greeted by a crowd encircling a man on a unicycle, juggling tennis balls. He threw them out into the audience, and asked for whoever caught a ball to throw it back. The next thing Alaina knew, a fuzzy, neon-green sphere whizzed by her head, and was readily caught by Millie. Both girls laughed as Millie threw the ball back, and thoughts of the homeless man quickly dissipated as they got swept up in the unicyclist’s comedy.
***
“Dude, I need food,” Millie said frankly as the show ended, pulling her blonde hair into a ponytail. “I think my stomach’s trying to communicate with me by some kind of code.”
“I think mine just answered yours,” Alaina laughed, blushing as her stomach growled loud enough that a passing businessman turned to look at them with raised eyebrows.
“Wanna find that little hole-in-the-wall place we went to a few years ago? With the parents and Aunt Sandy and Auntie Sarah? That place was wicked awesome!”
“Ayuh, but let’s just play it by ear. Little Italy’s got more than one ‘wicked awesome’ restaurant. We’ll explore!”
“Unless we die of hunger first,” Millie grumbled.
***
“I’ll have the seafood Alfredo,” Alaina told the waitress, happy to finally get real scallops, lobster, and haddock, “and a glass of Black Swan Shiraz.”
Millie wrinkled her nose, shot Alaina a look, and got Chicken Parmesan and a glass of water. Alaina knew Millie didn’t like wine, and that was fine; but the look had been because the glass of wine was $7.50. Normally she’d have just gone with water, too. She was as poor as the next college girl, but this was Boston! And she’d be damned if her sister’s frugality would get in the way of her having a good night.
They had found the little place they’d gone to a few years ago. It was in the basement of a little bakery whose cannoli display barely veiled the look of some Godfather-like goings on inside. However, the sisters looked longingly at the baked goods, and decided to grab some pizzelle on their way out.
The restaurant was tiny, with room for a total capacity of twenty people. There was no lighting aside from the flickering candles, in amber-colored glass jars, sitting on the tables and shelves along the wall. There was a dark, wooden bench along one wall, providing seating for three small, square tables. Other tables were dispersed throughout the dark cellar, able to seat maybe two people. Red and white checkered table cloths covered all the dining spaces.
Their food came, and both girls smiled and thanked the waitress. They had already temporarily satiated their hunger with Italian bread dipped in olive oil and shredded parmesan cheese, but that was nothing compared to these pasta dinners. Alaina picked up her glass, Millie followed suit, and the two clinked glasses.
“Cheers!” they sang.
“Hey, remember that time-,” Alaina started.
“Yes!” Millie cut her off laughing.
They often brought up what happened at the restaurant last time they were there. It had been a summer trip with their parents and aunts. They had stumbled on this place completely by chance, and were very hungry. Surprising everyone, both finished their monstrous plates of pasta. Groaning as they left, as they were so full it hurt to breathe, they looked down at their stomachs. Both had worn shirts that were snug against their flat abdomens, now they were comparing whose stomach had bloated more over the course of that day. Millie had won. This is what Alaina missed about being near her sister: the fact that they could be complete gluttons, and make a game out of it.
As they finished their dinner they realized it was 9:15.
“Shit! Shitshitshit!” they hissed, almost in unison.
Scurrying to get their check and pay, they cursed the lost time. The last train to Worcester left from South at ten, and they still had to get from the Quincy area to South Station. Leaving exactly 15%, Millie took care of the tip. Pizzelle forgotten, she lead the way up the stairs, through the bakery and out into the cooling August night.
The girls were almost running to Quincy Center Station. They dodged between strollers, ducked through Japanese tourist groups snapping pictures, and finally saw the sign for the subway. Alaina’s brown hair flew behind her as she tried to keep up with her sister. Millie was small and athletic, making it easier for her to quickly find her way through the maze of Quincy. Heading around one of the kiosks, Alaina’s attention was caught by a clown on stilts, obviously just getting off work. Looking at the stilts, and not at where she was going, she thudded into someone with enough force to lose her breath and her shopping bags.
“Millie! Hold up!” she gasped, trying to gather up her bags. Millie turned impatiently, and jogged back toward Alaina.
“Well, hello again Miss,” said a nicotine stained mouth.
“Shit,” she whispered.
Backing away, Alaina started rambling about no money, a missed train, she had to get home. Wheezing, trying to catch her breath, she spotted her sister coming toward her.
“Thanks for helping me earlier,” the hot stench rasped; now reeking of whiskey. “Do you have any more? I could really use it, it would help a lot.”
“We have to get to a train, you asshole,” Millie said. “Back off! We don’t have any money!”
“Oh, I seen you two shopping. I know you got money. I gotta get to South still. That’s where you’re goin’ ain’t it? I know you got money. Just to South,” he started menacingly toward Millie. His glazed eyes narrowed and an unsettling grin formed, stretching from ear to ear. Alaina was briefly reminded of Jack Nicholson as the Joker in the Batman movie. He stumbled drunkenly toward Millie, reaching out his wiry arms and grabbing at air as she backed up.
“Holy fuck,” she said in a tiny voice, so unlike herself.
Alaina saw the authority in her sister falter, and whispered “Just give him some money Mil.”
Millie scowled at Alaina. Sighing, she reached into her pocket and grabbed the last bill she had. It was the $20 the girls had been hoping to use for a taxi from the Worcester station back to the apartment.
“Just give it to him, it’s just money Mil.”
Millie glared Alaina; then at the man as if willing his head to explode. Alaina watched her sister and the bum have a stand-off. Crumpling the bill up, Millie dropped the twenty on the cobblestone street. While he bent to grab it, Millie grabbed Alaina and they flew down into the subway.
“Good Lord,” Alaina gasped, and tried to laugh once they were safely on their way to South Station.
Millie sullenly stared out the window, not saying anything. Alaina hated it when her sister was upset, and wanted to lighten the mood. A smile played at her lips as she tried to start a conversation with Millie.
“Well, that’ll make for a fun story, huh? Maybe I can use it for one of my writing classes. Wouldn’t that be cool? What would you want to be called?”
“Shut up, Alaina.”
Surprised, Alaina looked away as tears involuntarily welled in her eyes. Blinking quickly, and swallowing continually, she tried to regain her composure.
“Mil-“
“I don’t care, Alaina! Just shut up. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to listen to you. You had to give him money outside the toy store. Then, you drag me into it! Then! You make me give away the only cash we had for a taxi back to the apartment! If you hadn’t given him money in the first place, we could’ve just had an uneventful day! We wouldn’t be late now; and we definitely would have money to get us home! So fuck your bleeding heart”
Alaina bit her lip, and unsuccessfully tried to bite her tongue.
“You know what Millie? YOU shut up! I’m sorry we don’t have money now, but you know what? At least we’re not dead or maimed! Wouldn’t you rather give money than put yourself in more danger? He was grabbing for you! I was scared he was going to try something! So fuck you! Don’t put all the blame on me! He was crazy and drunk. He came after me! So yeah, I understand you’re pissed, but don’t take it all out on me.”
“Whatever,” Millie rolled her eyes “Just stop throwing yours, and my, fucking money away. I could’ve taken care of it and him without giving him that bill; and he wouldn’t have come after you if you hadn’t given him money the first time.”
Setting her jaw, Alaina moved to the seat across the aisle from Millie. She drew her knees up to her chin, and wrapped her arms around her legs. They sat in silence for about ten minutes, the tension slipping away like the posters on the subway walls.
“Mil?” she tentatively asked, looking across the aisle.
Millie glanced over, one eyebrow raised.
“What do you call a leper in a bathtub?”
No answer, but her eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
“Stew!”
Thinking she saw Millie crack a bit of a smile, Alaina decided to keep the bad jokes coming.
“What do you call three lepers in a box?”
“I don’t know.”
“A puzzle!”
Millie couldn’t keep a straight face, and started chuckling. “That’s wicked hard sick, you know that?”
Alaina shrugged and grinned.
“I hate spending money,” Millie stated. “And I hate giving it to people like them even more. It’s such a waste. He’s just gonna spend it on more booze for himself…I wanted to spend it on booze for myself. Or at least spend it on the taxi so we didn’t have to walk through the Worcester ghetto at night.”
“I know,” she stated, sliding next to her sister and putting her feet up on the seat facing them.
They both sighed and watched the subway walls pass. They knew they had missed the train to Worcester. The next one wouldn’t be leaving until 6:50 the next morning.
Forty-five minutes later, as they exited the subway and entered the train station, they looked at the murals on the wall that depicted great moments in Bruins, Red Sox and Celtics history. It brought to life the stories the girls had heard from their father since they were old enough to understand sports. She and Millie stood in front of it for a few minutes, smiling as they took it all in. Somehow this New England pride always comforted Alaina.
She meandered into a bookstore, while Millie went to find a bathroom. Picking a cheap romance novel off a wire rack, she pulled out her debit card. She needed something to pass the next seven hours. After buying the book, two waters and a can of Pringles, she found the waiting area. Millie was lying across some of the blue plastic chairs. Settling in a chair near her sister’s feet, Alaina opened her book. Quickly, she put it down and started rummaging through one of her bags. The station’s air conditioning was great when it was the middle of the day and people made the heat even more unbearable, but now she was shivering. Looking at her younger sister, whom she often turned to for advice and sometimes forgot was the younger sister, she noticed her shivering, too. Knowing Millie wouldn’t complain, Alaina took out her Red Sox blanket and covered them both.
“You should get me a coffee,” Millie said sleepily.
“Shut up! Get your own when you wake up; you have more money stored away than I do.”
“I know I do, because I get other people to buy things for me.”
Alaina rolled her eyes, smiled and opened her book, while Millie started to fall asleep. After twenty-one years of being together, nothing had changed except age and height.
“I friggin’ love it here,” she whispered.