Janice poured about three fingers of rye into her plastic cup before before unscrewing the lid from a brand new bottle of diet soda. She got so much satisfaction from the hiss of carbon that escaped a fresh bottle of pop. Without an audience Janice could walk and manoeuvre around her kitchen just fine. She grabbed the ice cube tray - the middle four popped up right away and she flipped them into her drink. One escaped its boozy destination sliding across the counter and onto the floor. Janice didn't bother with it though. It was only water after all.
A mostly grey cat had been winding between her legs while she prepared her drink and now followed closely behind as she walked out the screen door and onto a little porch on the front of the house where she had a seasoned deck chair with faded abstract pastel swirls. The cat made it through the door before the spring on the screen door snapped it back shut. As Janice made herself comfy the car meowed loudly and rubbed against her leg.
"Don't worry ya mutt," Janice said reassuringly to the cat. "I didn't forget ya." She picked up an old frisbee and as she flipped it over she poured of her drink to cover the bottom. The cat started lapping it up. "Cheers!" Janice said now with a cigarette between her lips. Her and the cat always liked to get their first drink out of the way before lunch.
Janice sipped on her drink waving to all the cars who drove by. She had to admit she hadn't slept well after Art's crash. She'd woken up more than once in the night unsure if she was shifting in and out of dream mode. She considered that maybe she had just dreamt that she had slept poorly, but the way her body was responding today told her that she indeed was tired. "Nothing a second cigarette can't fix," she said to the cat who was now sunbathing on the sun warmed wooden planks of the deck.
Randy came around the corner and seeing Janice on her patio. Her turned his bike onto her lawn having to stand up to peddle across the grass. "Morning Janice," he said as he pulled up along side her. "Randy," she said taking a drag of her cigarette. "You got an extra one of those for me?" She considered lying but her open pack that was three quarters full was lying in plain sight. She ashed her cigarette in the coffee can next to the chair and tossed the pack to Randy.
"You been downtown yet?" If Janice was willing to share cigarettes, Randy better be willing to share some news. "I been everywhere," he said taking the first drag. Janice waited patiently she knew Randy liked to drag stories out. "They saying they have to do an autopsy on Art to see if he'd been drinking when he crashed the plane," Randy looked for Janice's reaction to this news to see if she thought it was ridiculous as he did. "Barely ever seen that guy drink more than one or two two," he continued as Janice took a sip of her own.
"A table full of cops at the restaurant this morning," he went to pet the cat but she jumped to her feet and went running odd the deck at his advance. "What? Why?" Janice was interested. "They gotta bring in a bunch of release cops because of the stress and stuff," Randy explained like it was common sense. "Oh ya I suppose so," Janice flashed back to the events of the previous day. She hadn't really thought about how it would affect anyone else.
"What time is it now?" If she timed it just right she could get down to the restaurant during the lunch break and get a good look at them for herself. Randy shielded his eyes to look up at the sun, "Looks to be around," then looked at his black Velcro digital watch, "10:47." When Janice woke up today she wasn't sure what she'd be getting up to.
"One of the cops they brought in is named Banks, so I asked him if his his first dame was Rob!" He slapped his handle bars and waited for Janice's response. "Like Rob Banks?" Get it?" Finally Janice laughed, Oh geez don't tell me his name's Rob," she giggled taking another sip. "Ya I don't know. Didn't say. Can't take a joke these guys," he threw his cigarette butt into the can and turned to go. "Take er easy Janice," he said as he walked his bike astride to the street. She waved and watched him gain speed and disappear around the corner.
Janice didn't necessarily like cops but she liked new audiences. She added her cup to the collection growing in the sink and went to look for her neck brace. "Rob Banks," she snickered as she secured the brace with a few strips of duct tape. She poured out enough coins for a couple cups of coffee and headed out to hop on her scooter. She could feel the warmth of the rye in her veins as the scooter began to move. "Better stick to the sidewalks today," she said to no one in particular. "Better safe than sorry."
YOU ARE READING
Salad, Sandwiches, Dainties and Punch
General FictionI'm probably writing about your hometown
