CHILL OUT, LORETTA
Thursday night and me, Loretta and Jeann cut youth group just to “have a walk,” as Loretta put it. She lit up her cigarette and me and Jeann started to amble behind her zig zag strut.
“It’s an awful thing to waste your appearance,” Loretta started. She was going off again about her then in-college boyfriend, Raymond, for like the millionth time that week. “Like if God gave you a face then you might as well shave it,” she pointed to her nose, “and for crying out loud, if God gave you skin and great big beautiful arms like his, then you might as well wash them.” I was thinking, Jesus Loretta, just go on and lose it with Raymond, he’s not so bad looking, as Jeann nodded and said, “his apartment!” She rolled her eyes. I thought maybe they were going to ask me something about Juan, Raymond’s room mate, and that country version of Penny Lane he’d sung to me from the balcony their place the night before, when everybody else went inside, and when his butt ash had floated onto my shoulder like a snowflake. But the girls said nothing, and I just shuffled my feet as we walked in the sunset orange sidewalk.
Loretta had to pee, so she walked into the Burger King and me and Jeann sat curbside, a bit away from the drive through.
“Jeann,” I whispered, “what do you think that guy in there is thinking?” “Huh?” Jeann said. She was looking for a stick of gum or something.
Behind the playplace and its windows, hunched a sack shaped man with a crumpled paper bag beside him. He burst mustard packets into a bun, and chewed the meat with flat teeth. I could make out his shirt stains and unshaved neck, but I couldn’t see his eyes between the two layers of glass: the window and his thickly framed lenses. “Jeann-” I said, but just then Loretta and her shadow creeped up behind us.
“He asked me to come over!” Loretta moaned. I could hear her poking the buttons of her phone.
“What should I do?”
“What did you say, Margot?” Jeann said.
“Oh nothing,” I answered, “He just looks so lonely.” Jeann and I starred at the man, plucking french fries without looking at the pile of mustard he dipped them in. Loretta looked at us, and then looked over at him.
“What? That shit?” And each bite was a whole handful of the fries that he folded into his mouth. He’d swallow almost as soon as he shut his lips. Loretta said, “Watch this.”
As she made her way across the parking lot, I clenched my toes so tight they hurt. Loretta stepped right over to the window and pulled her church skirt up past her pink panties and thighs. The man stopped chewing to look at beautiful Loretta and her dumb beautiful ass, but instead of hovering speechless like she thought he might, he looked right over to me, like he knew I was there all along. I still couldn’t see his eyes, but his glasses caught the white of the fluorescents inside. I was so nervous that I began to pray wordless prayers. Loretta whipped her skirt around her knees and cackled, pointing at the man but looking back at Jeann and me. He wasn’t staring any longer, just sliding his whole body into the burger and it’s crumpled wax paper packaging.
“Shit Loretta,” I said, but only loud enough for Jeann to hear. Jeann was laughing.
“Come on! Come on! Come on!” Loretta whacked me on the back as she skipped past us. I thought it was finally done, and I was more than ready to get on, but Loretta stopped and said, “wait.” No, I thought. No.
He’d just started packing up, placing all the papers in the bag when Loretta ran back to the window. Behind the glass, I could see he wasn’t sitting anymore, but even with his back and legs upright he was only Loretta’s height. He looked like he might pull away any second, if even that long was passing, as Loretta pulled out her cell phone and took a photo. The man sighed, then calmly retreated into the Burger King. Loretta was so gassed; we really took off running!
“Oh cheer up, Margot,” Loretta said a few minutes later.
“He seemed lonely.” I said. Loretta stopped walking. Her phone buzzed in her hands.
“How do you know?” Jeann asked.
“Yeah, how do you know?” Loretta repeated, again typing something into her phone. “He could be God damn millionaire.”
“I don’t know how I know. It’s like-” I mimed the burger in my hands. “Jesus--Maybe something to do with his arms.” The girls kept walking. But I guess I really couldn’t have known; he may have been a millionaire, and anyway, I’ve seen those same arms in every place I’ve been, since.
That night, I called my mom to tell her I was staying late at the church, and then me, Loretta and Jeann went over to Raymond’s place to hang out.