Closer to Paul
by Patti Jazanoski
I try to decide between low fat milk or full cream. I haven’t had any snacks all day.
“I like your walk,” he says. I look up, startled. No one’s ever told me that before. Janice and Jandalee and all those girls have got the walk down. I plod.
He’s staring at me, not really smiling but there’s a slight quivering in his lip. He’s going to say something more. His coarse blond hair is plastered down the way somebody’s mother would do it.
“You have a nice walk,” he says in case I hadn’t heard him the first time. Or maybe to broadcast to half the store, he’s talking so loudly.
“Thanks.” I look in the cooler, away from him.
“You work at that other store,” he says, “The one downtown.”
“That’s right.” I get this from time to time. When people see me away from the Five and Dime they sometimes get excited and remind me where I work, like I’m a celebrity in my home town.
“I’ve seen you there. You work the register.”
He is edging towards me and I open the cooler door. It’s glass, of course, so I can still see him, but I’m glad it opens out between us. He shuffles back. I step into the cloud of cool and feel goose bumps rise; I’m wearing a tank top and my Hawaiian print board shorts. I ponder one last second and pull down a bottle of coffee. Low fat.
“I can work the register, too,” he says. His body is shaking just a little, like he’s got a neurological disease on top of everything else. “I can ring you up.”
“That’s OK.” I turn away and walk down the aisle the opposite direction. For about ten seconds this feels like a good idea, because I don’t have to pass him and I don’t have to get any closer, but then I realize he is watching me from behind and I can’t wait to get to the end of the row. I turn the corner, cut down Food again, half expecting to see him standing there, but the coast is clear. I notice they now sell Cap n’ Crunch with Crunchberries.
I thread my way to the cash register in front, and get in line, holding the bottle which is very cold. There is one person in front of me so I wait. The air conditioning in this store is too high, like they are trying to show off. The Five and Dime never sets up fans until August.
I’m standing in line wondering if he is watching me but I refuse to look. I remember his face from a minute ago, the first time I stood so close to him, a few feet away, almost too close for strangers. He has a man’s moustache—no doubt about it—not the wimpy strips of hair the guys at my school have. He has blue eyes, too, something I never noticed before. Not Paul Newman blue, but close. Closer to Paul than I’ve ever seen in this town.
All content in SmokeLong Quarterly copyright 2003-2014 by its authors.
Patti Jazanoski is a graduate of the Creative Writing program at the University California Santa Cruz. She lives and works along the central coast of California.
Read the interview.
|Issue Ten (September 15, 2005): Capsicum by Anne Marie Jackson «» Donat Bobet's Halloween by Bruce Holland Rogers «» The Arrival by Nathan Leslie «» The Law by Edgar Omar Avilés, translated by Toshiya A. Kamei «» Five Fat Men in a Hot Tub by Jeff Landon «» Hoover by Cally Taylor «» Are You Okay? by Joshua Hampel «» The Kindness of Strangers by Otis Brown «» Mrs. Krishnan by Kuzhali Manickavel «» Crossing the Orinoco by William Reese Hamilton «» The Elements of Summer by Laura Stallard Petza «» Closer to Paul by Patti Jazanoski «» Hawesville, Kentucky by Nance Knauer «» He Stayed for Breakfast by Astrid Schott «» Gardening by Antonios Maltezos «» Outer Space by Tom Saunders «» Blind Love by Robert Bradley «» Arks by Alan Girling «» Chitlins by Bob Arter «» Strange Fruit by Suzanne Lafetra «» Interviews: Anne Marie Jackson «» Bruce Holland Rogers «» Nathan Leslie «» Toshiya A. Kamei «» Jeff Landon «» Cally Taylor «» Joshua Hampel «» Otis Brown «» Kuzhali Manickavel «» William Reese Hamilton «» Laura Stallard Petza «» Patti Jazanoski «» Nance Knauer «» Astrid Schott «» Antonios Maltezos «» Tom Saunders «» Robert Bradley «» Alan Girling «» Bob Arter «» Suzanne Lafetra «» Joseph Young «» Cover Art "The Creation of Time and the Plagiarism of Bosch" by Marty D. Ison «» Letter From the Editor|