September 1970
Traffic whisked up and down Hennepin Avenue. Oblivious to the hullabaloo, I stood on the curb, staring down at my sleeve. Out of nowhere, a passerby complimented me on my tie-dye shirt, jogging me out of my daze.
“Flo,” I heard from a distance. I turned my head. Nick was running up the cross street. I pulled the thin binder from my ponytail so that my hair fell over my shoulders, and jutted out my thumb. A red Volkswagen bug immediately came to a halt.
“Hello,” I smiled broadly. Without looking back, I slid into the seat next to a graying dark haired man. After slamming shut the door, I slowly crossed my long legs despite the cramped space, and showed off my thigh through the slit of my very short skirt. “Where you off to?”
“Downtown, beautiful,” he answered.
I licked my lips, but out of the corner of my eye, I shot a glance out the window. A bedraggled Nick was shaking his head outside the Rainbow Café and giving me the finger. The car took off and I was free of him. It served him right. Determined not to give Nick another thought, I put my hand on the driver’s right leg. If I wasn’t able to get a few bucks out of him, I’d panhandle later.
“Do you want me to drop you off at the Nicollet Mall?” the driver asked, glancing down at my bare legs.
I gave him my best alluring smile, “Washington Avenue would be better.”
“You’re a university student, then?”
I burst out laughing. He was trying to check me out, figure out whether I was available or not. Of course I was, if he paid. “No, not a student,” I answered, “A business woman, if you get my gist.”
Puzzled, he raised a brow. “Really? What do you do?”
I dug my fingers into his thigh. “Anything you’d like.”
By the glint in his eye, I could already taste the steak I’d order at Murray’s tonight and the feel of a cool air-conditioned room at the Radisson. At least I had something to look forward to: A hot shower and a good night’s sleep, alone.
But screw-up that I am, I pegged it all wrong. The guy took my hand off of his knee and asked me how old I was. Then he turned on the fatherly advice: Go home.
I held back a bitter laugh. Desperate, horrified myself by how far I’d stooped this morning, there was no going home. I hadn’t walked through that door for a year. My parents knew where I was living and with whom. They didn’t care. Said they’d done enough for me. Doubtful, but they’d drawn their line and so had I. Fuck them.
Nonetheless, the guy hadn’t been a complete waste of time. He dropped me off by the downtown library, gave me a ten dollar bill and a bus token. Twenty minutes later, I was back to my regular routine. With forced vigor, I was ready to resume panhandling. I needed more cash. The humidity was worse than the heat, but I didn’t have a choice. I rolled up my sleeves, pulled a barrette from my pocket, pinned up my hair, and wiped a thin film of sweat off my forehead. With the crisp ten dollar bill wedged in the sole of my shoe, I thrust out my cup.
“Shiny penny for a pretty lady?” a voice asked from behind.
I broke out laughing and turned around, falling into her brother’s arms. “Rennie!” Safe in his embrace, a few tears trickled down my cheek. He playfully yanked out my barrette. That’s all it took. Tears poured out until they soaked through his powder blue work shirt.
“Come on, Flora,” Rennie said, taking my arm and leading me into the library’s lobby. ‘It’s cool in here and we can talk.” My trim muscular brother was six-three, three inches taller than I. His blond hair was shaggier than the last time I’d seen him, but his fine chiseled features, his sharp grey eyes hadn’t changed.
I knew what he wanted, for me to go home and make up with the folks. Impossible. They were the ones who’d kicked me out when I was in trouble. I had no way of fixing what I’d done. They were right to give up on me. It was the only thing we agreed on.
“How are classes,” I asked, “Are those sorority girls running after you?” My perky smile was a lie, one I was famous for. I hated that my brother had left me behind. I’d rather barf than be a sorority girl, but never would I have dreamt that fucking asshole Nick would be running my life.
“Don’t look at me that way, Floey,” Rennie said, “You would have gotten in. You could have applied. Dad would have signed for a student loan.”
“Really,” I asked, ready to punch him. Don’t you remember? I did get in, even without graduating high school. Dad wouldn’t sign anything for me.” I crossed my arms and eyed my tall athletic brother. Rennie was the favored one, always had been. I had six younger sisters, each one smarter and prettier than the next, but he was the only one our parents looked out for and he didn’t even realize it.
“I miss you,” Rennie finally said. “We were supposed to do this together.”
I knew that. I’d counted on it: The inseparable duo. But things change. One party and my whole life had been forever altered. Nonetheless, it was my fault. There was no one else to blame.
I gave him a peck on the cheek. “See ya,” I said and got up, “I got things to do. When you go home, kisses to the girls.”
Without looking back, I flew out the door, thinking of my sisters and how much I missed them. It wasn’t until I was on the other side of the revolving door that I saw him lurking at the corner. Nick. Tall and brittle, he had a hawkish angular face and small round eyes. He was waiting, tapping his foot and pointing a loaded finger at me.
I looked back through the slow revolving glass door. My brother had disappeared from sight, already inside the guts of the library. Studying, he was good at that. I stared Nick down, feeling the heat of my bitterness seethe down to my toes, hatred oozing from my whole being.
His dark smile worried me but I was on a busy corner. Obviously, there wasn’t much I could do about it. There was no place else to go. On the other hand, what could he do?
“Flora Dora!” Nick hollered, “Fancy seeing you here.” With a wave, he sauntered towards me, smiling as if I was the light of his life. He was a half foot taller than I was, and his thin hair was braided down the back of his torn t-shirt.
I fluttered my eyelashes and waved back. Inside, I cringed, suppressing an impulse to scream. This was my corner goddamn it, the place I panhandled every day, but the bruise over my rib still ached, a reminder to play along. He’d whacked me a few nights ago. He always went for the same spot, the one he’d kicked me in last May. That time, it’d killed for weeks. If he went after me again, there was no telling when the pain would go away. He was a few feet away. All I could do now was follow his lead, and ditch him as soon as I could. Maybe Rennie could hide me in his dorm.
“Florrie,” Nick said, coming up and grabbing my wrist, “Time to go home.”
“Fuck you, too,” I whispered into his ear, “I’m not ready to go. See you later.”
Nick gave me the once over. “You’re ready when I say you’re ready.”
“Are you okay?” a dowdy middle-aged woman with dyed red hair asked, coming in-between us. I stared at her, desperately wanting to shake my head, but I knew better.
“Get moving, fat ass,” Nick said. He tugged me away from the corner, until he had me to himself. “Where the hell do you get off leaving me, bitch?
“Where the hell do you get off thinking anything?” I tried to pull my arm away, but he clamped down tighter. “Nick,” I said, looking up, “Nick, this has to stop.”
“I don’t think so. You owe me a grand. You aren’t going anywhere until I get it, and if you try, I’ll find you.”
He kept a tally on my drugs. He fed me for free, he liked to joke. Some joke. I hadn’t topped laughing all year. I didn’t owe him shit. He supplied the weed. What was the big deal? He was the drug addict, not me.
“Rennie came to see me,” I said, thinking fast for an explanation. “My mother’s in the hospital. I have to see her. Much as I’d love to spend the day, I gotta go.
“Wha…”
“It’s true,” I said, on a roll. “Rennie’s in the library getting a book, then he’s taking me.” Nick released his grip. This was going to work. “Go in with me if you like. It’s on the level. Rennie’s just finishing something up.”
“What do you care about your mother?” He narrowed his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. “The old bitch sold you out a long time ago.”
I froze. I thought I’d hardened myself to anything he could say. Had accepted what I had to accept because I didn’t have a dime to my name. But what Nick said about my mother was true, and I couldn’t bear it. My mother hated me.
Nick released my wrist and brought me into his arms. “Sorry, Flo,” he said hoarsely, “Really, I am. I’ll be nicer, I promise. Give me another chance.”
I looked up, scrutinizing his face. His eyes grew soft. His brows furrowed with concern. This was the way he used to be, the way it was when we’d first met. He touched my cheek, and kissed me. I held on. I despised him but he was all I had in the world.