Milk and Cigarettes

Chapter 2

"Wendy, Wendy." My mother's voice caused me to awaken. I mumbled as she kept her hand on my shoulder, slightly shaking me. "Honey, Roger's here." I told her to tell him to wait, that I was too tired to get up, but she refused. "That's rude, Wendy." I kept my eyes shut and waited for her to leave. As usual, she would leave my door open. I heard her talking to Roger and offered him something to drink. They talked for a while and I tried shutting their loud voices out, but it was impossible. That was why my mother always left the door open. Finally, I shoved my blankets back and rose to my feet.

"Roger." I called out. "Roger, there better be something extremely cool happening," I made my way around the hall and saw him sitting in the kitchen with a glass of orange juice. "for you to wake me up like this." I sat down in the chair next to him and took a sip from his glass.

"Well," Roger began as he tucked his long hair behind his ear. "I was just telling your mom about that kid we met when we went out for ice cream yesterday." My mother never knew about the things Roger and I did. She had always been much more sensitive and old fashioned when it came to what good girls did and how it differed from what good boys did. Roger knew that, so he and I always stuck to the squeaky clean, safe story of the perfect 1960s kids. "The new one."

I nodded my head, "Yeah, Leo, right?"

My mother stood by the counter, a cup of hot coffee in her hand. "He sounds like a nice boy from what Roger's told me." She smiled and took the carton of orange juice, refilling the cup Roger and I were sharing. "Nice to have someone new around this town." Spokane, Arizona had a declining population ever since mother was a kid. Everyone fled for the cities, the suburbs, and left this place behind. Spokane had one of the most productive, largest soda factories until they opened an even bigger, better one in Phoenix. It once also had an active passenger train that made stops here, attracting tourists. After the war, the streets were emptied out and replaced with numerous, empty, lonely houses. My mother left the room, saying she had an errand to run and handed me a $10 bill for lunch.

"So what about that guy?" I eagerly asked Roger, as I'd already become interested to know as to what he was doing here in Spokane of all places.

"This morning, I went out for a smoke like I always do, right?" Roger's dad was a heavy smoker. He would always warn him not to start the bad habit, so he had to sneak it.

"Right." I confirmed, leaning in so he could speak quieter. I was always paranoid that my mother might hear us, even when she wasn't at home.

"I was standing at the corner by that gas station, and he walked up to me. Started asking me about you and stuff."

"What did he ask?" Boys were never curious about me around here. We all grew up together, we all did the same things, there was no mystery about one another.

"I don't know. Just your name and what you're like. I told him to beat it but he just stood there and lit a cigarette." Roger laughed. "He also had a carton of milk in his hand. Who does that? Drink milk when you're havin' a smoke?"

For once in my life, a boy was curious about me. I had no knowledge about him, I didn't even know if he was the kind of person I wanted to deal with. My confused mind clashed with my speeding heart once Roger finished that sentence, because before then, the only time my heart raced was when I was running.