Monday, January 7, 2008

I chose this for myself.

"I chose this..for myself"..I kept thinking. But it didn't alleviate the pain in my belly or the pain or want in my heart. The pain in my belly burned in a wave. "I chose this for myself".

But why? To what end? Did I do it in the hopes of a happy ending? Or just to come back to zero? Even? I don't know and could not say.

Travis stood at the check out at the Times super market in Aiea, Oahu. A terribly young woman stood at the tiny check writing counter by the cashier. Her swelling breasts and jelly rolls said she relished the chance to leave her newborn and go out. Even if it was to the grocery store. Her young long brown legs said she sometimes wished she hadn't had the young chap so early in her life. She was 17. She was paying in food stamps and the check-out was time consuming.

A white woman sped-walked from the head to the bagging area of the check out isle next to Travis. Her clothes were filthy. Her skin sun scared. She had a grimy hat and dark wrap around sunglasses. In a loud voice she asked no one in particular, "Where is my basket? Where? You people should be more careful with my things.." She raced back the way she came. The Times managers, baggers, cashiers and patrons smiled not angrily or uneasily.

After the second run up the cashiers isle, a fat Hawaiian woman limped and slightly dragged a foot into the Times market. Shoulder length vaguely dirty hair hung from her head. Her right arm could not extent fully and her fingers stuck out un-naturely. She was not in pain, nor did she appear very - if at all - self conscious. She walked towards the white womans check out isle after quickly procuring some new wonderful, healthy, flavorful and coloric water and patiently stood on line while the Time people helped assuage the old homeless white woman.

For no other reason, Travis wept silently as the young mother continued to close the deal on her state funded sustenance while her newly deflated belly lightly touched the little check writing counter.

"I Choose this for myself. I told myself that I could and did want to do this.....I chose this. I choose this..." Tears spilled onto his T-shirt. The well washed cotton absorbed the moisture and a spider of dark pattern work spread where the drops impacted.

No comments: