Saturday, June 6, 2009

June 3: Suburbia suits me

I take another breath and sink down lower into the bath tub. Wait- what did that lady call it? Oh right. It isn't a bath tub, its a garden tub. Its so big that I can keep my feet in the water as my head goes under. And not only that, but I am all under at one time. Last time I took a bath, each time I wanted to put my head under I had to scootch my ass to the end of the tub, with my legs reaching up along the cold tiled wall in order to be able to lay my head back.

My house, or what was my house, only had a shower. But it wasn't hooked up or anything so I usually showered at the Y. It was when I was on my way to the Y that I saw it. What they did to those men. What I told the jury they did to those men. And what they'll do to me.

I push back up so I'm sitting in the tub and wipe my eyes. Yeah. This I could get used to. I've never lived in a place this nice. In fact, I've never lived anywhere that couldn't be hitched up to something and towed to another town before. When I walk on the floor, it feels solid. I'm not bumping into anyone when I fix a bowl of cereal. The house is made of brick and can't be blown down by any big bad wolf.


This town is alright except there's no Wal-Mart. I have to go about 15 miles to Fishkill for that and the money I have to pay for the cab ride makes it so I don't have any money for shopping. They've told me I have to get a job. So I guess I'll do that next. I can't really be a housewife when my husband's gone. But if I was going to be a housewife, this is the kind of house I'd want to live in. It's even got a clothes washer AND dryer IN the house! In my own house!

But even with the garden tub and the laundry, there are reminders that even though the house is brick, my life is straw. Panic buttons in three rooms; FBI living in the guest room and kitty corner across the street. And guns. All the guns. I don't care about ever going back to Texas. There wasn't anything there for me anyway. Not anymore. I get to build a new life and if they never find me, I'll get to live it.

Assignment: Congratulations. You just testified in court against the biggest crime family in all of Texas. Now, to keep your ass from being dead, the FBI is putting you and your family in the Witness Protection Program. Write about the first day of your new life as Chris Farmington in Poughkeepsie, NY.


Dawson (Clawson) said...


sk said...

Well done! Wistful, hopeful...with a little malevolence.

mister e said...

I like this line a lot: "...there are reminders that even though the house is brick, my life is straw." I also liked the positive spin you put on it (potentially).