c. 2024 Rod Ice
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(7-24)
Hagreb was in no hurry to get home from work after finishing his Friday shift. He had finally reached the point of a rare weekend off, which would give him Saturday and Sunday nights to recuperate from normal work duties. This interlude was a reward for having been scheduled to lead his grocery team on every holiday since the previous Thanksgiving. Something that had left him feeling disconnected from family members and the few friends that remained in his private circle. After a quick meal alone at his dinner table, he crashed on the couch. Then, hours later, he awakened to darkness.
After the combative encounter with Jimmy Speck, he had needed to zone out completely.
With a cold six-pack of Kingfisher Strong, he went outside to his front steps. They were a fiberglass construction common to most of the mobile homes in his park. He sat bathed in light from a fixture mounted to the exterior wall, and equipped with a motion sensor. Knowing that he wouldn’t need to report to his store revived him both physically and mentally. One after another, he began to drain the bottles of imported brew, while scrolling on his cell phone. Then, a young neighbor passed by in the shadows, walking her poodle.
Macqui Martone lived up the street with her aunt. After both parents perished in an automobile accident, she had been raised by her late mother’s sibling. Now they were emotionally inseparable, and bonded forever. But the twenty-something girl yearned for a taste of the outside world. Faraway places beyond the limited borders of their rural development. When she first met the immigrant son with his thick glasses, wavy, black hair, and brown skin, it gave her a feeling of having connected with another world.
She bounced along, casually dressed in a pink running suit and track shoes. Her pooch yipped and yapped for attention.
“Hey Haggie! What’s up bruh, y’all playing hooky from the Big Bird tonight?”
The sweet sound of her voice interrupted his aimless play on the wireless device. But he was glad for the diversion.
“Hey Mac! I’ve got a respite for two days. They’ll be freaking out I’m sure, but it was approved by our schedule writer. I haven’t had a weekend off in over a year!”
His ebullient friend paused while her curious pet sniffed at the grass.
“That’s all ya do is work, man! Work, work, work. People around here say that’s why ya got no girlfriend! Damn, what a lonely life!”
Hagreb was slightly miffed. He took off his spectacles and gestured with them in the manner of a college professor giving a lecture.
“How do you know I don’t have a girlfriend? She might be back in Cleveland, or in India maybe, or another country where my family lived...”
Macqui giggled and struck a pose like a model.
“Okay bud, ya got me there! Y’all might have a harem of chicas, I don’t really know! But whenevs I come by, if ya be home, it’s running solo. I never even see relatives coming to visit!”
The supermarket employee nodded sadly.
“Yeah, nobody has a car. They live in the city. I got a promotion out of coming here though, the extra money goes back to help them survive. We all band together, it’s the way we were raised. It’s a tradition of our people...”
His leggy, blonde cohort chewed her fingernail.
“A tradition from where? Y’all never talk much about yer heritage!”
Hagreb shrugged and shook his head.
“I’ve found that it’s better to stay quiet. You know, to stay invisible, yes? I’ve gotten enough scrutiny just existing in this new land. My accent, my looks, they sometimes rub people the wrong way. Out here in the hinterland, it has been much worse than in a metropolitan environment. But I know how to cope. I smile and keep my mouth shut...”
Macqui went wide-eyed in reflection.
“I never thought about that, really. Wow, dude! Just, wow!”
Her canine companion lifted his leg and watered the ground. Then, he was ready to walk again. This seemed to indicate that their conversation had reached a natural conclusion.
A lifted, Dodge Ram pickup truck rattled past, pulling a trailer, as they exchanged goodbyes. The cowboy hauler left a trail of black exhaust in its wake, and booming sounds of Country music.
Hagreb waved with gratitude, while opening his third beer of the evening.
“It’s a beautiful night for a break. I needed this a lot! See you again soon, Mac! Stop over anytime!”
Once the ration of suds had been consumed, he felt buzzed and mellow. He had been sitting with his back against an aluminum railing, which incorporated the shape of a heart into its design. Yet now, his eyes followed the bubbly female as she disappeared into lingering darkness that shrouded the community.
Suddenly, the big-tired truck that had gone by returned, with a shotgun barrel hanging out of its passenger window. Rude insults and curses echoed, along with yowling boasts of defiance.
The foreign native rolled onto his side, as buckshot peppered the concrete driveway.
“HEY HAGGOT! GUESS WHAT, MOFO? MY DAD CALLED THE PARK MANAGER! YOU’RE A GAWDAMM NUISANCE! SHE PROMISED TO TAKE CARE OF YOUR SHIT! YOU WANNA STIR UP TROUBLE? OKAY, HERE IT COMES BACK AT YOU, TEN TIMES AS HARD!”
Another double-barreled blast scattered across the lawn. Then, chunks of construction waste began to fly. A piece of cinder block smashed the front window. Another landed near his feet. Hillbilly hoots and redneck laughter filled the air, as the rig rolled away.
Hagreb was trembling. Somehow, he had avoided injury for the moment. But he knew that this streak of luck was sure to run out before long.
He made a call to his eldest sister, who still lived by Lake Erie. She did not answer due to the late hour, so he left a voicemail on her machine.
“Kiki, this is your big bro. I’ve been thinking about my promotion, now that almost a year has gone by... I think you might have been right about some things being more important than money. I like living here with the extra room and privacy, you know? But nothing is worse than being an outsider. It hits me at work, it hits me at home, and I guess it hits me in the heart. I miss you, and our family. I miss being me...”
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