Issue 22 - 1992

Coe Review • Issue 22
J.
Nancy Sweet
The alarm went off and my arm jerked from beneath the
covers to hit the button for another 20 minute’s sleep. But I was
awake. I knew it. I never went back to sleep. I pulled my robe around
me and headed for the kitchen to make coffee. Then into the shower.
As I stood there with the hot water pouring over my head I thought
I heard the doorbell buzzing, so I rinsed off in a hurry, threw a towel
around me, and ran out the bathroom door only to hear my alarm
going off again.
I shut it off for good this time, went into the kitchen and
poured a cup of coffee. I threw an ice cube in it so I could drink it
right away. “Oh shit, it’s almost noon,” I said as I pulled my clothes
on, “I gotta get going!” I ran out the door to J.’s house, screeched to
a halt in the driveway behind her apartment building, and ran in the
back door. When I pushed the elevator button and it didn’t open
immediately, I decided to walk the three flights to her floor. I panted
down the hallway to #306 and started banging loudly.
“Wake up, J., it’s me! Come on, open up in there. We gotta
get going!”
More banging, and then, as I pressed my ear to the door, I
could hear movement inside. She’s awake! The front door opened
slowly, and there was J. looking like she always does when she first
wakes up - hair all mashed to one side, a huge T-shirt slipping off one
shoulder, and wearing those stupid giraffe slippers with the necks
flopped over to one side so the giraffe heads lay sideways on the
floor and dragged along the ground as she shuffled around in the
morning.
“What time is it?” she mumbled.
“It’s time to get up. Time to get down to the Neighborhood.
We have to get enough for tomorrow too, it’s Sunday, and no one is
ever around on Sunday. How much money do you have?”
With a slow sweep of her arm J. pointed to her oversized
purse lying in a heap of clothes next to her bed.
“I don’t know, you count it.”
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