Monday through Friday I work first shift at a mom and pop gas station called Garrety’s, which is at the very edge of Redland. It lies in the industrial zone which mainly consists of the bones of old factories that supported Redland economically. They shut down ages ago so now all that's left are the shells of old dreams from people who are now long gone. Garrety’s and a diner are the only functioning businesses left in this area, and income is steadily declining for both joints. Some of the people who live close to the industrial zone partake in activities with the diner and gas station, but that’s a very small number of people. About a decade ago, a new residential zone was developed on the opposite side of town and those who could afford it moved to those houses, including my father with the three of us. Most people didn’t want to stare at the factories anymore since they were such an eyesore. The new residential area is very well kept compared to this neighborhood, which is quickly falling apart with its decrepit houses and potholed roads.
I took the job at Garrety’s because I figured it connected me to Redland in lesser amounts than the other jobs available. The only other openings were butcher at the grocery store and an unpaid internship at the local insurance office. I needed cash and I just couldn’t picture myself selling animal meat to grubby customers. So, obviously, the gas station was my last resort. Besides, you barely have to interact with anyone while working, which was a large bonus for me. Another way to connect with Redland as little as possible.
Either way, on this fine Tuesday morning I find myself dreading going to work for some odd reason, although I’m not quite sure why. Usually working is a pretty painless action for me. Taking into account the very few customers I get in a shift, I usually just pop in my earbuds and find ways to occupy my time. Generally it goes by pretty fast since I always manage to get lost in the music. Once I turn on the first song, I immediately become immersed in the melody. Music is always a very important part of my life.
As I pull into the bumpy gas station parking lot and turn down the 80’s music that had been blaring from my speakers, I take a deep breath. My hands automatically drive my car to its usual parking spot, a ritual that had been going on for two years now. I barely have to think about it. All my mind is focusing on right now is what lies inside the dilapidating building.
I grab everything I’d need for the day all the while mentally preparing myself. My notebook, phone, earbuds, nametag (with the name Eleni on it), which I pin onto the breast of my shirt, as well as a bottle of water. I gently take the keys out of the ignition and throw them in my small handbag that I carry around. I’m ready. I confirm, then step into the heat of day.
The air conditioning inside the building felt like stepping into an icy tundra, which is perfectly fine by me. Now that it’s July, the temperature is expected to continue rising. This is generally about the time when Redland has its annual heat wave, where days easily reach one hundred degrees for a week or two, then generally the heat spell is broken by rain. The same thing has happened every July for as long as I’ve been alive.
“Eleni!” Cindy grins with her pearly white teeth as she hears the doorbell tinkle. “Thank god you’re here. I think I would've rotted with one more minute in this wretched place.”
“Hah.” I laugh nervously, “I’ve told you that you should bring music with you. It makes time go by much faster.”
“I guess I’m just not really a music person.” Cindy hoists herself up onto the counter as I set my stuff down in the cashier’s spot. “Guess what.”
“Huh?” I ask, taking a sip of my water.
“I had two whole customers in here for my shift.” Cindy does third shift here, so two customers is shocking for this gas station at that time.
“That’s a stunner.” I smirk which gets a laugh from her. I notice the way her hair falls off her shoulders when she leans her head back. She has genuine happiness in her face when she laughs, which ignites butterflies in my stomach. Stop. You don’t have feelings for her. I tell myself strictly, she’s just a friend.
“I can’t wait to quit this job and move to New York.” Ever since I first met Cindy at this job, she’s always dreamt about moving to New York just to own her own book store. It’s an interesting dream, but for as much as I love music, Cindy loves books twice as much. It’s always made me happy to see the ambition and a twinkle in her eye when she talked about her dream.
“I can’t wait to quit this job and move away from Redland.” I respond.
“Once again, I say you should come to New York with me, we could be poor kids in the big city, somehow manage to get a two-bed apartment. It would be the life.” Cindy smiles, grabbing my hand, which reignites the butterflies I already had trouble keeping down in my stomach.
“The city isn’t really my kind of place.” I shrug, taking my hand back, “Besides, I need to track down my mother before I can make any huge life decisions.”
“That’s understandable.” Cindy frowns slightly as her phone buzzes. She pulls it out and checks quickly, “Look, I better go. I’m exhausted.” She grabs her stuff and marches toward the front door, a determined look in her eye to go home and sleep.
I look up and notice Cindy at the front door. “Send me a playlist for work, maybe I can get into music as much as you do.” She smiled a little, then disappeared into the hot day.
I sat back, exasperated. It’s hard to keep feelings hidden from something, that’s for sure. They aren’t feelings. My brain says, Stop thinking otherwise.
I shake my head, ignoring all thought for a while as I put my earbuds in and crank up the music. Cindy was a sensitive topic of conversation between myself and my thoughts. My brain liked to think negatively about her, trying to banish all feelings that could possibly be there. It’s been trained to think that way for as long as I’ve been alive, yet my body sends other signals.
I knew what the answer was, but I’ve been too scared to admit it. Saying you’re gay in Redland is a horrifying thought. Most people are very homophobic here, so they wouldn’t be open to the idea of the sheriff’s daughter being gay. So I just shove those thoughts down and don’t acknowledge them. I haven’t even thought of coming out to my father because I couldn’t imagine his reaction… the look of disappointment on his face. He’s all I have left, I can’t lose him.
I try to push all the negative thoughts out of my brain while mopping. Instead, I just think of Cindy. I know that’s not much of a subject change, but thinking about her makes me happy. Her laugh, the creativity she expresses when talking about books she writes, her passion for life outside Redland, it’s all beautiful to me. She’s the first person in a long time that I’ve been attracted to.
I listen to the Rolling Stones play in my earbuds as I continue cleaning off the cupboards and counters around the gas station. I disinfect doorknobs and clean the bathroom and soon enough, the gas station is spotless. This is kind of nice. I think, smiling. I’m pretty proud of my cleaning job. Garrety’s hasn’t looked this neat since I got this job.
I put away all the cleaning agents and disinfectants and collapse on the chair behind the cash register, exhausted. I really hope no one comes in today. I could use a break from people. At that thought, I pull out the notebook I have recently started bring to work with me. About a month ago, Cindy had taught me how to write poetry and gave me this notebook. I’ve treasured it ever since then. Not just because it was a gift from her, but also because I never would have found my love for the art without her. Everytime I find it hard to express myself through speech, I write a poem, which is more often than you’d think.
I yank a pen from the cupholder by the register and let my hand take the lead. Without thought, my hand forms words on the page, beautiful and poetic. The music channeling into my ear is inspiration as I continue to write stanzas, full of words that contain frustration for myself and desperation to leave this town holding me back.
I hardly take notice as someone enters the gas station. It’s 11 a.m. already and this is the first customer of the day, but I’m too immersed in writing to notice more than a mass enter through the doorway. After a few more moments of writing, I notice that mass of person attempting to gain my attention from the other side of the counter.
“Excuse me!” He shouts, leaning over the mountain of stuff he piled onto the counter. I roll my eyes and pull my earbuds out.
“Yes?” I ask.
“I’d like to buy this stuff.” He comments flatly. This guy standing in front of me looked to be about my age and had dark skin as well as black hair. His eyes were a warm amber color and he displayed just as warm of a smile. He was an attractive person, but I was not attracted to him at all.
“No!” I gasp sarcastically, then begin ringing his stuff up.
“Oh, also I’d like to pay for a coffee.” He pulls out a wallet and estimates the amount of cash he’d need for his items.
“I wouldn’t recommend that.” I say, finishing scanning.
“Sorry?” He looks up.
“I said that I wouldn’t recommend the coffee. It’s at least a few days old and probably cold. The machine also hasn’t been cleaned in who knows how long.” I tell him, looking at the grungy old thing. I don’t know why the owner hasn’t junked the thing already.
“Aren’t you supposed to not tell me that the coffee is crap?” He grins, “I could report it.”
“This place will be out of business before anyone will actually inspect it.” I start bagging the items and tell him his total. “Are you new here? I’ve never seen you around before.”
“Yes, my grandparents and I moved into the development across town. You know of it?” He asks.
“Of course I do, everybody in this town lives over there.” I hand him the bags and accept his cash.
“I didn’t know that.” He laughs. “You live over there, too?”
“That’s a dumb question. Like I said, everybody lives over there.” I shake my head.
“You’re right, I’m sorry.” He grabs his items and looks at me curiously. “The name’s Nate. I’d love for someone to show me around Redland and you seem like you know your stuff.”
“I sure do, I’ve lived here my whole life.” I hold my hand out for a handshake, “Welcome to Redland, you’re gonna hate it.”
Nate laughs and shakes my hand in return. “We’re unpacking right now but maybe when we get settled then I’ll come find you for a tour.”
“I work the same shift Monday through Friday, so I’ll be here.” I smile.
He turns to begin walking away then pauses, “I don’t believe that I got your name?”
“The name’s Eleni.” I answer.
“What a strange name.” He nods.
“It’s the name Helen in Greek.” I start to put in my earbuds again.
“I’m assuming there’s a story behind the name.”
“Oh for sure, quite a story.” I laugh.
“I’ll see you around, Eleni.” Nate smiles then exits the building and disappears into the hot day, just like Cindy.
It’s nice to have some fresh meat in Redland. I think, then crank up the music in my ears once again.
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