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Authors: Louise Bagshawe
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communal
bathroom was down the hall.
‘Thirty-five,’ she said.
He lat[ghed sourly. ‘C’mon, sugar, we charge fifteen bucks a night.’
The Ocean Motel was in the scuzzy Red Hook area and it blended right in, catering mostly to sailors working on the docks.
‘Yeah, but you won’t fill this every night. I’ll stay at least three weeks.’
‘Forty, baby, and you’re robbing me,’ the landlord said. His eyes flickered hungrily across her large breasts and small waist. The kid was weird, kind of like a coed but with street-smarts. She was so serious she freaked him out. Not a hooker, he could tell that much. Pity, ‘cause she could have made the rent in kind, any time. He’d have offered her a drink, but she had this standoff vibe around her.
‘Thirty-five.’ Nina locked into his eyes and killed the fire there with an icy stare. ‘It’s all I got. It’s not enough, I’ll need to go somewhere else.’
The guy frowned. He smelled of sweat and cigarette and Nina wanted him out of her room.
‘OK. But two weeks in advance.’
She fished in her pocket, peeled off the bills from her small roll. He left. She sat down on her small bunk and put her head in her hands.
Nina wondered what her parents were doing now. Calling the police? Did they miss her? They had to miss what she could do. But even so, Red Hook was a no-go area, nobody knew her here. The cops wouldn’t find her.
She felt surprisingly calm. She’d been self-reliant for a long time; the only thing different now was the circumstances. Looking back on it, Jeff Glazer had been such a stupid mistake for a clever girl. What was he? Just a good-looking jock who’d used her and then run for over. She’d trusted him, and look where it got her. Yeah, whatever. She wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
Nina got up from the bed and went to the grimy window. Outside was an alley; beyond that, the bustle and noise of dirty, dodgy Brooklyn. She had $557 and the. clothes she stood up in.
Tomorrow she would go get a job. It was time to get out of here.
Nina didn’t find a job the next day, nor the day after. She spent two anxious weeks trudging down Flatbush Avenue and around the Civic Centre, terrified her money would run out before she found work. Even her reference was no help.
Brooklyn was sunk in the late seventies recession. Nobody was hiring: the drugstores were full, the banks had enough tellers, even the delis didn’t need a clerk. She was desperate when she had her first stroke of luck. A boy named Leon was standing in front of her in a checkout queue, bitching about the health food store that had just fired him.
Green Earth was a small Mom-and-Pop joint, a hippy56
looking place. Fading paint peeled from its storefront and dusty windows, displaying an assortment of candles, vitamins and joss sticks. Not promising, but her heart beat a bit faster. Surely this place would need someone
new.
A bell jangled as she pushed the door open.
‘Hi, can I help you?’
The storekeeper was grey haired, maybe sixty. He was sitting behind the counter, hunched over a stack of loose receipts.
‘I hope so,’ Nina said politely. ‘I heard you fired Leon. I’d like to apply for the job.’
The proprietor shook his head. ‘I’m not replacing him. Third kid I tried in a month. All they do is sit around chewing gum and talking back to the customers.’
‘I’m not like that, really. I’ve got experience and a reference’ Nina persisted.
‘Sorry, honey. Try somewhere else.’ Nina swallowed her bitter disappointment and was about to leave when he added, ‘What I need is an accountant. Or a magician.’ He patted the forms in front of him with a good-natured sigh.
‘What are they, your records?’ Nina asked.
‘Uh-hnh.’ The old guy shook his head again. ‘Never keep a store, kid. You’ll go blind before your time.’
‘I can organise those for you,’ she said, walking towards the counter and ignoring his disbelieving
bathroom was down the hall.
‘Thirty-five,’ she said.
He lat[ghed sourly. ‘C’mon, sugar, we charge fifteen bucks a night.’
The Ocean Motel was in the scuzzy Red Hook area and it blended right in, catering mostly to sailors working on the docks.
‘Yeah, but you won’t fill this every night. I’ll stay at least three weeks.’
‘Forty, baby, and you’re robbing me,’ the landlord said. His eyes flickered hungrily across her large breasts and small waist. The kid was weird, kind of like a coed but with street-smarts. She was so serious she freaked him out. Not a hooker, he could tell that much. Pity, ‘cause she could have made the rent in kind, any time. He’d have offered her a drink, but she had this standoff vibe around her.
‘Thirty-five.’ Nina locked into his eyes and killed the fire there with an icy stare. ‘It’s all I got. It’s not enough, I’ll need to go somewhere else.’
The guy frowned. He smelled of sweat and cigarette and Nina wanted him out of her room.
‘OK. But two weeks in advance.’
She fished in her pocket, peeled off the bills from her small roll. He left. She sat down on her small bunk and put her head in her hands.
Nina wondered what her parents were doing now. Calling the police? Did they miss her? They had to miss what she could do. But even so, Red Hook was a no-go area, nobody knew her here. The cops wouldn’t find her.
She felt surprisingly calm. She’d been self-reliant for a long time; the only thing different now was the circumstances. Looking back on it, Jeff Glazer had been such a stupid mistake for a clever girl. What was he? Just a good-looking jock who’d used her and then run for over. She’d trusted him, and look where it got her. Yeah, whatever. She wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
Nina got up from the bed and went to the grimy window. Outside was an alley; beyond that, the bustle and noise of dirty, dodgy Brooklyn. She had $557 and the. clothes she stood up in.
Tomorrow she would go get a job. It was time to get out of here.
Nina didn’t find a job the next day, nor the day after. She spent two anxious weeks trudging down Flatbush Avenue and around the Civic Centre, terrified her money would run out before she found work. Even her reference was no help.
Brooklyn was sunk in the late seventies recession. Nobody was hiring: the drugstores were full, the banks had enough tellers, even the delis didn’t need a clerk. She was desperate when she had her first stroke of luck. A boy named Leon was standing in front of her in a checkout queue, bitching about the health food store that had just fired him.
Green Earth was a small Mom-and-Pop joint, a hippy56
looking place. Fading paint peeled from its storefront and dusty windows, displaying an assortment of candles, vitamins and joss sticks. Not promising, but her heart beat a bit faster. Surely this place would need someone
new.
A bell jangled as she pushed the door open.
‘Hi, can I help you?’
The storekeeper was grey haired, maybe sixty. He was sitting behind the counter, hunched over a stack of loose receipts.
‘I hope so,’ Nina said politely. ‘I heard you fired Leon. I’d like to apply for the job.’
The proprietor shook his head. ‘I’m not replacing him. Third kid I tried in a month. All they do is sit around chewing gum and talking back to the customers.’
‘I’m not like that, really. I’ve got experience and a reference’ Nina persisted.
‘Sorry, honey. Try somewhere else.’ Nina swallowed her bitter disappointment and was about to leave when he added, ‘What I need is an accountant. Or a magician.’ He patted the forms in front of him with a good-natured sigh.
‘What are they, your records?’ Nina asked.
‘Uh-hnh.’ The old guy shook his head again. ‘Never keep a store, kid. You’ll go blind before your time.’
‘I can organise those for you,’ she said, walking towards the counter and ignoring his disbelieving
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