Wanda Part 2

Wanda wakes in a cold sweat each morning as the 3:00 a.m. train screams by. Raising on one elbow, she lifts the edge of the faded curtain to look down on boxcars slithering past. She watches the man asleep beside her, a stranger with large brown arms who smells of Old Spice.

Each morning Jake leaves the twin bed they share in the garage apartment to shower and dress for work. He refuses her offer to fry eggs, preferring to stop at the diner next to the dry cleaning shop where he got a job the day they drove into town. Sometimes he stops by at noon on his way to deliver the drapes and sofas to the big houses on the East Side. The smell of cleaning fluid makes her dizzy. Sometimes he brings sandwiches but mostly they eat cornflakes with canned milk.

At night they curl into each other on the twin bed to watch Johnny Carson or a movie on the small flickering TV. There’s no phone and no one to call them even if there was one. Sometimes she thinks about the phone booth on the corner by the liquor store and how it might be different if her parent’s had a telephone, how she might call them to let them know she’s ok.