The Speed Queen (13 page)

Right, this is where I first met Natalie Kramer. She was my roommate for the last two months along with Emily and the other cousin. She was in for passing bad checks. You could see why people would take them from her. She looked nice —long cinnamon hair, brown eyes, medium all over. Pretty but not beautiful. Her teeth were straight and she kept her shoulders back, even when she was sitting. An Audrey Hepburn neck, nice shoes. She looked like someone I might have grown up with on Kickingbird Circle, someone who'd gone to college and gotten married.

That first day she walked into the room, Emily and her cousin didn't bother to take off their headphones. Natalie took one step in and stopped like she might not be allowed. She had jeans and a T-shirt on, but they looked too neat, like she wasn't used to them. Her earrings were just gold studs; she didn't wear any rings and her nails were perfect. She made a point of shaking my hand. She waved to the cousins; they looked at each other like she was nuts.

"Is this one mine?" she asked, then sat down with her bag across her lap, hugging it like a dog. "I can't believe I'm here/' she said, and started to cry. The cousins giggled.

"It's okay," I said, "I know how it is."

She had a mini pack of tissues with her and she wiped her eyes. "Is there a bathroom?"

I pointed to the door.

She locked it behind her. When she finally came out, the cousins had gone to supper. Natalie apologized and thanked me for being so kind. "I was afraid there wouldn't be anyone nice here," she said. "I'm afraid I'm just a big baby."

"It's okay," I said. "So am I."

I took her to supper and sat with her, but she couldn't eat. It was her boyfriend, an older guy; he'd left and cleared out their account. She'd just been laid off and her landlord wouldn't let her out of the lease. Looking back, it was probably all lies. It didn't matter. She was already my friend.

She went to take a bite of mashed potatoes, then put it down again. She just sat there looking at her tray. It was like the kind for a TV dinner except there was no square for your dessert.

"Come on," I said, "try some of the chicken." I even speared a piece for her.

That night when the cousins were asleep, Natalie thanked me. She reached across the gap between our cots and squeezed my hand.

"What are you in for?" she asked, and I told her some of it, not the whole thing. Her mother was just like that, she said, and told me about her boyfriend coming to Easter supper drunk and knocking the ham onto the carpet. We laughed and one of the cousins shifted and we quieted down. His name was Don and he was in auto parts. He was fine when he wasn't drinking, but this was the last time. It was too crazy, it was like a roller coaster. One time he shoved her head in the microwave and tried to turn it on. Another time he turned the hose on her while she was sleeping.

"You're married," she said, and pointed to my ring. "You don't have to deal with that garbage."

"Thank God," I said.

She was From Yukon. She'd come to the city to go to school and ended up dropping out after a few semesters.

"Same here," I said, and we talked about college. It turned out she'd worked at a Conoco. We traded drive-off stories. She remembered sprinkling the measuring stick with Comet before dipping it in the tanks so you could read the level better.

"This is so funny," she said.

It was two-thirty. "Better save some for tomorrow," I said.

"Marjorie," she said, and took my hand again. "Thank you."

"It's no big thing," I said. "The first day's always the hardest."

She took her hand back and we lay there quiet for a while. You could hear the trucks going by on 35, headed south to Dallas and San Antone, north to Wichita and Kansas City. Even then I liked to drive in my mind. North of the city there was nothing for three or four exits. At night all you could see were the big radio antennas, the lights blinking to keep the planes away.

"Hey," Natalie whispered. "What's the other one's name?"

"I don't know," I said. "I can't pronounce it."

"And why Emily?"

We started to talk again, and suddenly it was four o'clock. We had to get up in three hours. Still, we didn't stop, and as I drifted off to her voice I thought that this was what it must be like to have a sister.

That morning she unpacked her bathroom stuff in front of the mirror. She'd brought everything —conditioner, perfume, razors. She had a makeup case full of lipsticks, foundation, an eyelash curler. She had a purple velour jewelry roll full of gold chains. I closed the door so the cousins wouldn't see it all.

"I wouldn't flash that stuff around," I said.

"They said I could keep it."

"That's the kind of stuff that disappears around here."

"Oh," she said, and packed it up again.

"Why did you bring so much stuff anyway?"

"I didn't have anywhere to leave it," she said. "I don't think it's a lot."

"What about your mom and dad?"

She laughed, just a single "Ha!" It was the first time I'd seen her angry.

"If you want, I can keep it at my place. I can stick it in my purse when I leave for work."

"I don't know," she said.

"If that's all I had in the world, I definitely wouldn't leave it in this room."

"You're right," she said. And she didn't have to trust me then, but she did. She just handed me the whole thing.

At work, I unrolled the purple velour in the storeroom to see what there was. It -wasn't much: a few chains, some freshwater pearls, a bunch of cheap earrings — nothing really worth stealing.

"What's all this?" Lamont said when I showed him. I had all of it on under my uniform. He broke one of the chains while we made love, and I felt bad. I'd get it fixed.

"What kind of idiot is she?" he asked when we were done.

"Don't talk like that," I said. "She's my friend."

Back at Clara Waters, Natalie was waiting for me. She'd sneaked a piece of pecan pie out of the cafeteria For me. She wanted to know how everything went, if it was okay with Lamont. Her day had been bad. She'd tried to sleep but she could hear the drums from the cousins' Walkmans. We shared a cigarette out on the balcony. The Ferris wheel swung above the trees.

"I don't see how I'm going to do this for three months," she said.

"It's not so bad once you start your work release. I'll put in a good word for you if you want."

"I do," she said. "Thanks."

She gave me the butt back for the last hit.

"He thought you were crazy," I said, "trusting me."

"I'd rather trust you than anybody else here."

"Is that good?" I said.

"I don't know," she said. "It's something."

In prison, you make friends quick or not at all. When I wasn't at work, I was with her. Even the cousins were jealous of us. She saved me when I ran out of tampons. When my hairbrush died, she let me use hers. We both took a size 8, so we could borrow each other's tops. I gave her my rice pudding and she gave me her canned pears. I envied her legs; she wanted my waist. Nights we talked on the balcony until lights-out, then went inside and passed a butt, an ashtray on the floor between our cots. She had no man, no baby, no plans. I think I wanted her life, or my old life back. Maybe I just wanted to start over, go.

I helped fill out her application for Coit's. It was the only place we were going to apply. She could skate but she'd never been a waitress.

"What's your favorite restaurant?" I said.

"Interurban."

"That's good," I said like Mrs. Langer.

"You're not putting that down?"

"You want the job, right?"

"Yeah."

"They'll never check," I said.

At work I made sure her application was on top of Ned's clipboard. He called me into the storeroom to discuss it. It was short. Ned liked me too much to argue. I could make him do anything.

"And she skates," I said.

"Don't beg," Ned said. "I was going to hire her all along. We don't have to pay you gals minimum wage."

When I told Natalie, she hugged me. We were out on the balcony, and the guard turned away from us. I'd been borrowing Nat's shampoo, and she smelled like me. "Thank you," she said, "thank you so much," and her body started to shake against mine. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"It's okay," I said, but she wouldn't stop.

The lights on the far wing went out, and then around the balcony toward us until we were standing in the dark.

"It's time," I said. "Come on, let's go to bed."

Describe Natalie.

A liar.

That pretty much says it. I could say worse but it wouldn't be Christian.

She was prettier than she looked at first, and smarter. She always kept a little in reserve. She was always acting, always trying to get something from you. She was like one of those kids in school who cause all the trouble and then act all innocent when the teacher shows up. But she was pretty and she could get away with it. You always felt sorry for her. She always had some sort of story.

It's true. I never said it was or wasn't because I don't think it's that important. It's personal anyway. And it didn't happen the way Natalie says in her book. There was no dope and no candle; I don't know where she got that from. And I wasn't the one who started it, that should be clear.

That would have been in August, because Natalie had been there tor more than a month. We were both working at Coit's by then. Shed cover for me when I was late coming back from break with Lamont. She could really skate; people would ask special tor her. Her skates laced up above the ankle and made her calves look like she was wearing heels. You could see the people in their cars watch her as she rolled past.

We came back on the van that night. You always felt gross from all the grease in the air there. The first thing you wanted to do was take a shower. We took turns going first, and tonight was my night. I got undressed and turned on the water and let it get hot. Natalie came in to use the John. We were talking about tomorrow, getting paid or something, just talk. The water was hot, so I pulled the knob for the shower and got in. We talked over the water.

"Don't flush," I said.

"I won't," she said.

She kept talking but I couldn't hear anything while I was doing my hair, and I said so. It was the best time of the day because the water was hot; if you tried it in the morning you got about a minute and then it was freezing. I leaned back to rinse and felt a cool breeze on my front. My eyes were closed, and all I could think of was the Psycho thing.

"Nat?" I said.

"I'm right here," she said, from like two inches away.

I opened my eyes and she was right in front of me in the steam. She was looking at me like I might yell at her, like it might be wrong. Her hair was down and she still had her lipstick on. She put a hand on my chest and then turned her head so I'd hold her against me, and I did.

"I locked the door," she said.

"Good," I said.

There was no candle and no joint. She came to me. The only thing I did was not send her away. It's easy to look back and say you shouldn't of done something. I could lie and say I was just being nice, but I wanted her too. I thought we were close enough to do that. We already loved each other.

It was different in a nice way. I only felt bad about it the next day, when I was with Lamont. But the next night I was fine.

Very jealous, but guys are like that. He knew she was my best friend. I never really introduced them but they knew to see each other. He'd wave to her when he pulled in at break; at the most he'd say hey. I told him that she was nice, that in a lot of ways she was like me. He thought she looked silly on her roller skates.

"How old is she anyway?" he said.

"I don't know," I said, though I knew everything about her now — the way her baby toe overlapped, how her hip bones poked out when she laid straight back. •

"If you're her friend you should tell her how stupid she looks."

"We're wearing the exact same thing," I said.

He still thought she looked silly on her skates.

I didn't. I liked to watch her glide down the island between the cars with a tray of Volcano Burgers balanced on her fingertips. I liked the way her skirt whipped around her thighs. With her skates on she was taller than me; they made her legs seem even longer. She shaved every three days, and her skin was smooth against my cheek. She didn't look silly to me at all.

"And all that gold of hers," he said, "it's all plated."

"Forget about her, " I said. "Concentrate on me. We've only * got fifteen minutes."

When I came in from break, Natalie took me into the storeroom and kissed me hard against the boxes. Her mouth tasted like peppermint from the swirls that came in the kids' Wacky Packs. When I went to hold her, she twisted away and glided to the door.

"I don't forget you, " she said.

"What?"

"Making cracks about how I look. I heard the whole thing. Oh Lammy, oh baby, oh Lammy."

"He's my husband," I said.

"You think that makes it any easier for me?"

"Then don't listen."

"How can you be so mean?" she said. "This isn't some stranger you're talking to, this is me."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Like you don't know," she said, and skated away.

We made up later, under the hot water. Her hair turned black when it was wet. It had only been two months, but she knew me completely. The water poured over her belly. She drew a heart in the fog on the mirror. When we came out, Emily looked away. It was like that there, nobody said a word about it.

"What's this?" Lamont said the next day, pointing to a bruise on my thigh. Inside it you could see tooth marks.

"You don't remember?" I said. "You gave me that yesterday." It was like living a double life, kind of like the writer guy in The Dark Half. Natalie wanted me to be hers, Lamont expected me to be his. The one who really needed me was Gainey, and between them I didn't have time for him. While I was in Clara Waters, it was easy, but I only had a few weeks left. Once I got out, I thought, everything was going to change.