Baby Mama She was just twelve years old but Sarah has a crisp new $20 bill in her hand. She had spent the last two weeks cleaning like teenagers on meth for her mother. She scrubbed, washed, mopped, dusted, sweeped, vacuumed, shined every little crevice, nook, crack, and cranny in the entire house. The entire "double damn" house as she would secretly cursed as she behaving as a good little Stepford wife in the making. Her mom said she should learn some responsibility. Her mom wanted a cheap cleaning service as well. So Sarah accepted. Her mom was hosting some big party thing where the ladies of the neighborhood come over and she demonstrates kitchen appliances for them. Sarah looked through her mom's box of kitchen appliances to be sold at the party and Sarah couldn't tell what they did. A very creepy thought popped into her mind that maybe these aren't any kind of kitchen appliances, maybe these were toys. Toys for grown ups. No way, she thought, and pushed that thought back, far back into her pretty little head wrapped with blonde locks. Twenty dollars is a lot for a twelve year old to spend. Or at least this twelve year old. She would walk down streets hoping to spot a quarter, which rarely happened. She hated all the "blasted" pennies that people would drop but she picked them up anyway. Once she saved enough pennies by age eight that she accumulated $9.57 worth. She blew it all at the dollar store on some stale candy (with pictures of characters from cartoon shows that which their popularity peaked the year that she was born) and some stupid plastic dolls that looked vaguely looked like Barbie, if Barbie all of a sudden grew broad shoulders and thunder thighs. Sarah dreamed about the stuff she would buy. She could buy a cd and still have some money over. Granted, that she didn't buy a cd from a store like Tower Record or Sam Goody's where the cds that were on "sale" still costs $17.99. No, she decided to perhaps browse at CD Warehouse instead. She could buy a shirt. Thank God there's no tax on clothes in Minnesota. Sarah hated trying to figure out the tax in her head whenever she wanted to buy something. She could get at least nineteen things from the dollar store but there's only so many misprinted Fire Safety coloring books and strange stationary from Taiwan (with quotes such as "You my friend life. We always together inthe end. please dont me leave") that one can buy. "Ooooh, orange julius," she said outloud to no one at all. The last time Sarah has an orange julius was on a feild trip. Whenever Sarah asked her mom to buy her one, her mom only responded, "We have vanilla in the freezer!" There was nothing Sarah hated more than stupid vanilla ice cream. It's so boring! Sarah bought an orange Julius in the biggest size they had. She sat down and started to enjoy it. "Ah, shit!" She noticed a mother, about thirty, and her baby. The mother had dropped her butterfinger ice cream cone into her tshirt. Sarah watched as the mother's well manicured, very long if slightly creepy fingernails reached down her shirt and picked it up. The mother turns toward Sarah. "Hey, do you mind watching her while I wash up in the ladies' bathroom." "Sure, I can watch her," Sarah replied slowly. Sarah had never watched a child of any age before. Sarah wasn't quite sure if she could. Sarah sat down next to the stroller and let the baby grip her fingers. "Thanks, I'll be back in a sec." And the mother walked out of sight. A cute old lady with a walker caught Sarah's eye. She didn't know why but always thought old people were cute. They reminded her of these little dolls of old people golfing or fish, that she saw once in a country themed gift shop in Brainerd. The old lady wagged her chicken bone of a finger at Sarah and announced, "You are a very irresponsible young lady. Shame on you!" Was she talking to me? How am I irresponsible? I don't know, oh, maybe because I got a supersize Orange Julius instead of the small or medium? I don't see the big deal, I'm not fat. I'm not a victim of childhood obesity. Or maybe I'm here without a parent? But I am almost thirteen years old. Or maybe she as Alheimerz and is remembering a moment from her past. Like maybe she's remembering when her daughter wrote with crayons on the walls or used a bad word or ate dessert before supper or found her sucking the dick of some rankly looking teenaged boy in her bedroom late at night. Well, whatever. Sarah tried her best to forget the old bat and continued on with her Orange Julius. Sarah liked to people watch. Well, most of the time. Many patrons of the mall were dumpy middled aged house wifes, given the credit card for the day. Sarah hated credit cards. People are always charging needless luxuries to it: expensive clothes and accessories, cars, boats, etvc. Then they wonder how they got into debt. Could it be that they own more than five credit cards? Could it be that the lifestyle they want to live can't be bought by their meager wages from their low white collared jobs? Sarah would watch in distaste as talk show hosts made people's dreams come true by footing the bill for their thousands of dollars in debts. "Geez," Sarah's mind would wander into a sarcastic thought, "I wish I were a moron who spent my kids' college education on one of those stupid Beetle bug cars that were in style for a bleep of time, which I bought just to impress the neighbors but secretly they were laughing at me because the way I obsessively follow trends and compete, because then I'd be like, so happy and complete in life. That and thousands of bucks in bills. Just to say "I'm better than you" to neighbors who couldn't care less." A pretty black lady wearing rhinstoned fingernails, a denim bag with the word "Flirt" airbrushed on it, and a pink skirt and blazer and hair extensions to match, came into Sarah's eye frame. A definite welcomed change from the herds of cows grazing on nachos dripping with way too much cheese that could only violate the U.S.D.A.'s recommendation for dairy consumption. Eat that much cheese and you have enough servings to last you for the rest of your life. As long as the arteries don't clog the old routing system. The pretty black lady walked straight to Sarah. "Hello, I'm Chantelle from Planned Parenthood and we have been distributing pamphlets on sex education for teens and if you just give me a moment-" The pretty black lady named Chantelle went digging into her oversized bag and pulled out a little booklet called, "You and Your Body. What Your Right-Wing Fascist Republican Parents Don't Want You To Know." "Also, I think I may have-ah,yes. I have some extra samples left over from a high school demonstration." The lady handed her something and Sarah was mortified to looked down and find a condom in her hand. As the lady was zipping her purse back up, she walked away but not without saying, "If you have any questions, please feel free to call the hot-line. The number is listed on back of the pamplet." Why would that lady think I'd ever need a condom! I mean, HELLO!, I know I don't look no more than twelve, thirteen at the most. Maybe lots of girls my age come to her for condoms. I hear about lots of people in my grade "hooking up" but it seems like hooking up to one person means something different to another. Did she assume that I was a slut? Am I wear trashy clothes? Maybe my shorts are too short! Nah, everyone wears this style. Maybe since I wasn't doing anything but waiting around it looked like I was waiting around like a prostitute does on street corners! No, the police would have arrested me or something if I was really doing that. AH! What is this condom still doing in my hand? As long as no one's looking... Once the woman was safely out of sight, Sarah secretly disposed of those materials. She was almost done with her Orange Julius. Within that time, people have come up and thrown away food wrappers and empty cups, partially eaten happy meals, and tags from their recently bought clothing and merchandise. All of that was sitting on top of the condom and the pamplet. Sarah was regretting throwing it away now that she realized it may have been fun to have played with the condom. She's never actually seen a real one before. The baby started to whimper a little bit so Sarah rocked the stroller a little. Sarah went to throw her empty Orange Julius cup in the garbage can which contained the condom so it would be buried even deeper. The baby started whimpering again so Sarah started rocking the stroller again. Her arm got tired and stopped. Baby whimpers. It was a lose/win situation. Sarah continued to slowly move the strollers with her foot. "When is that lady coming back?" she patiently wondered. Two boys holding skateboards, only a year or two older than Sarah herself, walked into the mall. The boys also had haircuts that were purposely messy hair and saggy jeans exposing boxers. They had the kind of overpriced jeans that were pre-ripped and faded (manufacturers try too hard to follow what's hip with teens these days). They started whispering back and forth to each other, laughing. Probably telling each stupid fart and poop jokes, like all boys do. I wish they would just go away. Or at least comb their stupid hair. Instead of going away or fixing their hair, they started to walk nearer and nearer to Sarah. Oh, no. WHERE is that woman. She said she would only be gone for a SECOND! "Hey ya," one boy interjected between the other boy's fit of laughs, "How about we go to the parking lot." "I can't. I have to watch the baby," Sarah cleverly (or so she thought) responded. "You can bring it with." "Why? Why would I want to go with you anywhere?" "Well, I'll give you some weed in exchange for something else." "Something else". That better not mean what I think it means. "Hey, you scumbags! Leave this girl alone!" Sarah turned around quickly, finally the mother arrived back for her kin. Way late but she had nice timing, Sarah thought. "Oh, this is your baby? We thought that this was her kid." "Yeah, since we thought she already had a kid, she'd be easy." "Sorry about that, I know how guys your age can be. Thanks for watching her, I didn't think I'd take so long. I have something you might be interested in." The woman pulled out a stash of glossy papers from her pocket. She handed them to Sarah and pushed the stroller in the direction of the elevators. "Thanks again, sweetheart!" Sarah looked at one of the slips of paper. They were coupons. It read: "Buy One, Get 1 Free Large Orange Julius."
Copyright © 2006 Crystal Leslie |