We moved into her grandmother’s house
a day after the funeral and ate what was left
in the pantry – green beans, Vienna sausage, bread.
Everything in the fridge had spoiled. We were milkless
living on carbs and made them last a couple weeks
until we ran out. Our first trip to Piggly Wiggly
we bought a pack of roast beef and a baguette
because it was cheaper than a loaf. We drank
a light six pack on the screened in porch
in the heaviness of summer. The next morning
I drove out to Green Valley Farms asking to cut grass
or sling hay or load trucks, whatever was needed for some
jack-of-all-trades type even though I was a
jack-of-no-trade. They took me on at 8 bucks an hour.
After tax, it was nothing, but we didn’t have rent to pay.
Just food. And a ring if I could save enough. She’d stay home
and cry thinking of her grandmother who raised her
since she was 14. We were lucky we had a truck, I thought.
My uncle Matt lent it to us for the summer so I knew
we’d be up shit creek by September
trying to get me to the farm and buy groceries.
And gas. But I had a couple months to figure it out.
I worked with 3 others: a Black man named Blaise
who showed me the ropes early on, Troy, who sold
Adderall every refill, and Claire who was anorexic
and never opened up to anyone.
Friday, they let us off early so we ran across
the street and jumped in the quarry, boots and shirts
on the rocks. Claire dangled her feet off the side
of the jump and watched us. That aqua water
was smooth as rain and deeper than the Gulf.
She asked why I was wet, why she had more laundry
to do. Why I didn’t care about the house.
How the pantry was full before her grandmother died.
I started a garden in the back where the sun hit right
but it was probably in vain. The squash would make it,
but the tomatoes were late. She’d fill up a cup at the
kitchen sink, walk out and dump it on them
for me while I was at the farm.
That 4th we drove to American Village for fireworks
and cannon fire. The canons just shot gunpowder
but it was enough to blast our ears good.
Kids everywhere made us look at each other like we could
one day. We drove home slow through town and stopped
at Huddle House for a late dinner. Cheese grits
were her favorite and they made them decent for the price.
I ate runny eggs and sausage and hash browns.
We knew no one and didn’t try.