Page 6 of Rage & Paradise
Still I’m not going to push, if this is the extent of what I have to go through in order to get out of this mess I’ll take being called ugly.
Slowly, I slide against the wall until I get to the door and make my way out of it. My feet moving fast against the uneven concrete floor. I can hear Prince and the rest of his friends in the small room laughing, probably talking shit about me.
My eyes burn with unshed tears. It seems like all I do is cry nowadays. Prince wanted me to be a distraction for the man they were planning to rob. He wanted me to play slut.
I’ve played the role before. But he didn’t know that. The fact that Prince would just assume because I’m down on my luck that I would be open to that is crazy.
I get outside and the warm night air whips across my face. I lift my head and close my eyes trying to calm myself. Instead I feel the first drops of rain patter against my skin.
The tears start soon after.
Prince was my ride here. The room I rent is almost two miles away and I don’t have any money to take a cab.
It seems like all the wrong people have all the best luck. I’m a good person or I’m trying to be. I’m fighting to get my life in order. Fighting to be different than the world I was brought upin but the longer I try the harder it is getting for me to keep fighting.
I can’t find a job because I never finished highschool. I’m not pretty enough to get by on my looks alone. I have no family to turn to. And my so called friends…well my friends are why I’m in the mess I’m in now.
Shaking off the depression that is threatening to swallow me whole, I put one foot in front of the other and start on my way to my temporary home.
Right now, I’m living in a shared apartment with three other women. I’m renting a room. I’m already two weeks behind on rent. I haven’t been able to find any odd jobs to bring in anything.
Desperation is starting to kick in and now I’m wondering if turning down Prince’s underhanded opportunity was the right thing to do.
The tide has to change. It has to. Either way, I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to be able to keep this up.
Twenty minutes into my walk I get hit with the delicious smell of Alcapurrias.
My stomach growls loud and a deep cramp rolls through my midsection. It’s been days since I’ve had anything to eat. Along with rent, buying food is becoming a problem too.
The cramp intensifies until I have to stop and clutch at my stomach praying for it to go away.
“Mijita.” A sweet voice floats in my direction.
Looking around for the source, my eyes land on an older woman standing behind the small cart the smell is coming from.
She’s looking at me. It’s not until she lifts her hands and beckons me toward her with work gnarled fingers that I realize she’s talking to me.
“Doña?” I question respectfully.
“Reconozco dolor cuando lo veo.” She smiles gently before picking up and wrapping an alcapurria, handing it to me.
“Aye, no. Por favor. No puedés.” I shake my head and try to take a step back.
My people are nothing if they’re not generous but I know she must have worked hard all day to prepare these. It wouldn’t be right for me to take from her without giving something in return.
“No me digas no. Tomalo.”
I sigh and my mouth waters, my eyes drop from her wrinkled face down to the meat filled patty, and back up to her.
“Doña, no tengo chavo.” I admit.
“Estas bien. Tomalo.” She pushes it in my direction again.
“Gracias.” I smile and take the food from her. It’s a small gesture but right now it means the world to me and my aching stomach.
Quickly, a customer comes up beside me and I take my leave. As I walk away from the small cart I peel opening the wrapping and take a small bite of the alcapurria. The meat is tender and juicy. The yuca binds it perfectly. It’s seasoned with love.
I groan in appreciation as the food passes over my tongue. It takes all the willpower I have not to make a fool of myself and just shovel the whole thing into my mouth.
