Waif by Kolesnik Samantha

Author:Kolesnik, Samantha [Kolesnik, Samantha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grindhouse Press
Published: 2021-12-01T00:00:00+00:00

19

REENA ORDERED A ROUND OF drinks for our table despite my protestation that I didn’t drink. It was a lie, of course, and both Reena and Jameson had eyes that told me they could spot lies easily.

Jameson had a way of incorporating touch into her conversation, which both thrilled and discomforted me. She gestured broadly and took up space. She’d catch me nodding and tap my shoulder in a way that felt like camaraderie but hinted at the possibility of more. The more I looked at her, the more I started to pick up on peculiarities in her skin under the dim light of the bar. There was a cigarette burn on her left shoulder. A faint, healed but jagged scar line running from her ear down her jaw. She had stories.

By the time the bartender brought the drinks, Jameson was mid-story about some irrelevant part of her childhood.

“I grew up poor,” she said loudly, like it was a badge of honor. “My dad—bastard that he was—wouldn’t let Mama rest a day. He always had her knocked up. Kept her that way so she couldn’t leave.”

It started as sips, but I began drinking more and more of the heavy stout. Jameson would tap my shoulder or leg every so often while talking and I’d get a shudder of adrenaline.

“And Nicky—my youngest brother—he couldn’t talk right. He had a lisp. Said his ‘ss’ like ‘th’ and the other boys at school would call him names. The one kid—Mr. King Shit himself—little prick growing up trust fund style, didn’t just call Nicky names. He took it a step further.”

Jameson downed the rest of her drink and signaled a finger toward the bar for another. I noted the speed and respect with which the bartender treated Jameson.

“Mr. King Shit had his buddies hold Nicky down in the locker room and pissed straight onto his face. Now when Nicky told Daddy, Daddy beat Nicky. Called him some of the same names the kids at school did. And I thought to myself—”

Jameson leaned back in her chair and spread her arms wide like she was about to receive the world.

“I thought to myself . . . well I’m not gonna let that stand. A little rich boy going to piss on my brother’s head? Nah. Fuck that. And I got to thinking.”

Thoughts of Ben passed through my mind, but the presence of Jameson and Reena, the creamy stout down my throat—it consumed me. It pushed him out. It pushed all men out.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Jameson asked. I looked up from my glass and realized I was crying.

“Oh God. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I . . .”

“That’s okay.”

Jameson pulled me in closer toward her, wrapped an arm around me. Her arm was surprisingly firm and comforting. I looked around to see if anyone was watching. I was worried about what people would think, but when I looked at the bar, no one was watching us.

“Hey, Reena, baby, why don’t you go down to the jukebox, put on something loud? We’ll get Angie here up to speed.

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