Wasteland

IV

Ray

I sit at the back of the small chapel, slouched down in my seat. Ladies are gathered up in the front, listening to a young girl named Angela speak. She's not that much older than I am, she was only three years ahead of me in school. Somehow she got lucky with the job of cleaning houses in East once she finished school. Some would kill for that job. I would kill for that job. But on Tuesday mornings, she does motivational speaking in the church for anyone who wanted to come by.

I watch her wave her hands animatedly as she speaks. "I appreciate you all for coming to listen to me today. I hope my words have soothed you and I hope to see you again next week." She smiles warmly. "Be well."

I wait for the area to clear out, watching everyone murmur to each other as they're leaving. It was almost eight which meant most of them were heading out to work. A few throw small smiles in my direction, which I politely returned.

I make my way up the aisle to where Angela is packing up all of her things. I clear my throat to get her attention and when she looks up, she's already smiling.

A part of me feels like we could have been friends had we been in the same year. Maybe not friends, but we would have gotten along really well. Because where I was loud and caused trouble, she was soft-spoken and sweet. That's why she was so likable. She was a nice contrast to the negativity that surrounded us every second of every day.

"Hi," I say. "My name is-"

"Rayna," She nods. "I know you, everybody knows you."

"They do?" Because I was always getting into trouble.

Her smile widens. "Of course. You're one of the only girls to ever graduate early in West Village. Every mother wishes their daughter was like you. You're very smart, that's something to be proud of."

I blush. "Yeah well," I grin slightly. "There's not much else to do around here except study. And I always hoped that maybe if I did really well in school, they would maybe consider rewarding me by giving me a different job but um," I shrug. "And it's just Ray."

"Well, I'm Just Angie." She puts her hand out for me to shake. "What can I do for you Ray? I've never seen you here on Tuesdays."

I rub my hands together. "I was just walking by and thought I'd come in. I know you speak today. I haven't been in here in a long time."

"Your house mothers don't bring you and your sisters on Sundays?"

"They bring my sisters." Angie sits down so I follow suit. "But they stopped forcing me to do things a long time ago. I don't know, I haven't really been feeling my faith lately."

Angie nods. "Did you want to talk?"

I stare down at my folded hands. "I feel lost." I say quietly. "And I don't know what to do. I turn eighteen in three months from today and I'm terrified." I bite my lip.

"Don't hold back." Angie says. "Nothing said here will leave this place, I promise you. I think you and I might share some of the same opinions."

"I hate that this band," I gesture down to my arm. "Determines everything about me. People don't even bother to get to know me, it's all just assumptions. But now I'm starting to think I don't even know myself. I don't even have a last name. I have no identity."

"Everyone has an identity." Angie leans forward. "Who do you think you are, Ray?"

It's starting to feel a lot like therapy. But it's been so long since I talked to anyone like this. "I'm smart," I say. "And loyal." I repeat Mother Cathy's words.