ITCHY

Plunkett came from behind the register and watched Itchy as she walked the Thriftown aisles. He kept his hands on his hips and stared at her. You aint known what the hell you doin is you? She waved him off. You walkin round like you lit up like Jew lie four. Don't steal nothin now Itchy. Tommy been nice about it but he aint here til Monday week and I'm in charge. You goin to jail you put one piece of merchandise in your pocket. One things all it takes.

I got money goddamnit, she screamed. I got me plenty of money. She had a loaf of bread in her hand and some bananas and a small jar of mayonnaise. This shit done gone up aint it, she said, holding the mayonnaise up.

Everything done gone up, Plunkett said. It Osama's fault up there in the Blackhouse. If you done you come on over here an I'll ring you up. Don't want you to get sidetracked and start handlin more merchandise.

Itchy walked over to the big Pepsi cooler and dragged her fingers across the bottles standing tall in the icy water. There were Orange and Grape Nehi, Crush and Coca-Cola and Pepsi, RC Cola and Red Rock Cola. Itchy pulled a Grape Nehi out from the slush and stuck it up in the Coca-Cola opener screwed to the side of the cooler and pulled it up and popped the top off. She drank a quarter off the top and ah'd.

Plunkett rang the items up and Itchy handed him the money and he made change and handed her the grocery bag. First honest transaction you made in here, Plunkett said. How you get this money nohow?

Earned it, Itchy said.

Ricky sat on the curb outside waiting for her. He stubbed out his cigarette when she walked up and grabbed the Nehi out her hand and drank it down. Don't suck that shit all ways down now, Itchy said. They walked around the back of Thriftown. There were men huddled at the wall drinking wine. They wore heavy coats and flies spun around them. Don't look at them, Ricky said. Aint good look a man who down that far. Aint good for you or im. Aint good for no one. They walked to the far right and sat down facing the railroad tracks.

Tarpaper houses and A-frames brought together from scrap lined Dobbs Avenue. A southern cross flew from a grassless front yard nothing but hickory roots. Barefooted children hulahooped. Barefooted parents watched children hulahoop. They drank from brown bags and smoked. Two boys tossed firecrackers at a bullfrog. Barefooted parents laughed. You seen them boys yonder, Itchy said. Ricky nodded. You seen what they doin?

Aint nothin I aint done when I youngas them, he said.

Ricky opened his pocketknife and spread the mayonnaise on the bread and sliced the banana across and lay it like split yellow tusk on the bread and cut the sandwich in fourths and handed Itchy some. She put the entire fourth in her mouth and Ricky's eyes went large and she laughed and started choking and then laughed again. She smoothed her dirty red hair over with her bonethin hands and looked at Ricky. Her eyes color of stormclouds. Boys across the way ran out of firecrackers and now stood over the bullfrog screaming and spitting at him.

Found a whole entire cat skeleton over yonder, Ricky said, pointing beyond the train track near the honeysuckle. Musta got hit by the train and it throwed it over thatways. It aint messed up or nothin. Just like it laid there on the ground. Like it born there. Just all them bones hitched together white. He ate another fourth. Itchy drank the Nehi down to the bottom and left Ricky a swig.

A barefoot parent walked into the house and back out with a .22 rifle and shot the frog. It leapt in air and sit there where it land dead and wide mouthed. The children screamed.

What the hell he done that for? Itchy said.

He aint got nothin better to do, Ricky said. He took his ballcap off and looked at the money signs and George Washingtons screened over the back and brim. There were pyramids and singular eyes atop them and slogans in a language he reckoned Oriental.

Itchy shoved the last sandwich piece in her mouth.

I got to work tonight, she said.

Ricky frowned. You said you done had four dates this mornin already, he said. Aint that twenty dollars?

It is if they wantin to screw but aint no one want to screw no more.

Well what the hell they wantin to do if they aint wantin to screw? Ricky said.

You know, baby, other stuff, Itchy said.

They heard the train whistle longways off and they sat there not saying anything and Itchy leaned forward and looked down the traintrack ways and saw the light fluttering in the heat and heard the train moving up the track.

Don't be mad, Itchy said.

I aint mad, Ricky said.

The train rushed over the tracks and they watched the cars yellow and red and cars carrying swine and bovine and coal cars and box cars their doors pried open and rattling and footbearded hitchers gnomic in their darkness. The train here was now gone.

Smell that? Ricky said.

Hell what is that?

Honeysuckle. That train always wake it up. Smell nice don't it?