Tabbs

Chapter 2

Tabbs turned her sorta black, mostly rust stained, Saturn hatchback into the parking lot of her apartment complex. The power-steering was shuttering and growling with every revolution of the steering wheel. Finding all the spots in front of her unit filled with other cars under the illumination of her single working headlamp, she wandered the dark lot for several minutes till she gave up and parked on the street. Technically speaking that was illegal, but one of her neighbors in a night of drunken revelry ripped the 'No Parking Any Time' sign out from the ground and tossed it into a nearby creek a few months back. Cops' loss, her gain, she figured.

Cranking the groaning transmission into park, the car almost audibly sighed with relief as Tabbs cut the engine and removed the key. Gathering her belongings from the back seat, she slammed the door shut and heard something comprised of plastic and glass crack. She drew a breath of the humid evening air, blinked, and began walking in the direction of her unit.

She spotted a couple of guys with baggy pants and white tank-tops chain smoking cigarettes and drinking beer on the steps up to her second floor unit. She knew them, or rather of them. A couple of dads belonging to the downstairs units below her. Their kids were loud and shouted all day long, but they were pretty good about keeping them quiet during the night, so Tabbs couldn't complain too much. As she approached, the guy on the stairs pinched his ashing cigarette between his lips and stood to make way for her. She nodded, they nodded back. Best interaction she had with anybody all day.

She tried to juggle her lunch-box and backpack to make the keys in her hand available, but her empty thermos tumbled from her grasp and slammed into the concrete platform with a loud metallic thud. Instinctively, Tabbs looked in the direction of the two men downstairs, who thankfully didn't return her gaze. With a hiss resonating from the depth of her throat, she dropped the cloth lunch-box too and withdrew the key from the ring clutched in her free hand. Jamming the brass key into the gouged lock, she twisted and pushed on the knob. The door remained firmly in place.

She cursed, dropped her backpack, and tried the knob again, this time shouldering the door. It gave a slight creak, a little snap, then finally swung open with a gust of cool air that greeted her sweaty brow. Cracking her neck, she hefted her backpack on her shoulder and plucked the rolling thermos and lunch-box from the ground.

Inside the dimly lit living room she found Gavin, her boyfriend, sitting in the same spot as she had left him this morning. He was on her couch, a casted ankle propped up on a stool with a cushion underneath, eyes glued to the same stupid video game he played all the time. A solid perimeter of half-finished cans of soda, empty packets of chips, and the remains of several individually packaged chocolate mini-brownie cakes. He didn't notice her walk in till she emptied her armload of things on the wobbly fourth-hand kitchen table she had inherited from her older sister earlier that year. The new weight shook the table and toppled the growing stack of mail on the other side.

"Hey, babe. How was it?" her boyfriend asked robotically, not even bothering to lower the headphones from his ears.

Tabbs didn't answer, instead taking her thermos to the sink overflowing with dishes she had begged Gavin to start on that morning. She hefted the soggy, molding tower aside and cleared enough room to dump the dregs of that morning's coffee into the sink. When she reached to unscrew the plastic top, her fingers paused as they spanned the large gash around the rim. Without removing the lid, she tipped the thermos to the side and watched as cool brown liquid pour out the crack. She turned the thing over in her hands.

'Guess it was finally its time,' she thought, examining the various chips in the metallic bronze surface. 'Had the thing since high school.' She looked at the trashcan that was nearly toppling over with wrappers, foam ramen noodle cups, and last night's handle of whiskey. But instead of throwing the relic out, she found herself putting the thermos by the sink anyway. Opening the cabinets, she found a single can of vegetable soup, dumped it in a paper bowl, and placed it in the microwave for a minute-thirty.