***
Don’t touch me!
I’m not trying to touch you! If I could avoid it, I would, believe me.
Back up then! You’re right up on me.
Esther and Violette are making their way through darkness. It is very late at night, the only light is faint and far off, showing the thin width of the corridor that the two women struggle through.
How much further?
I don’t know. I can’t see anything.
But this was your idea. You don’t know how long this is supposed to take?
We’ll get there, just keep moving and stop complaining.
Why do I ever listen to you? Esther sighs and rests her head against the wall in front of them; the back of her head is less than an inch from the wall at their back.
You love me. Violette says it jokingly and manages to laugh despite her concern that Esther has stopped walking (they don’t really walk, it is more of a shuffle, there isn’t enough room to move one foot in front of another).
It’s just, Esther whines, it’s so tight, is it getting more narrow?
No, Esther, not at all. The faster we move, the faster we get there.
I need a minute, Esther says between deep breaths to try and calm herself.
Fine. Violette is not happy, she knows they need to move, but insisting would only make Esther stubborn and more reluctant to see their plan through to the end. This would be the hardest part of their journey, the long stretch of this skinny corridor, Violette just needs to keep Esther motivated.
You hear about Trevor? Violette asks, hoping to distract Esther’s from their current situation. She could feel Esther’s anxiety mounting and knew that gossip generally worked to distract her from things in her life.
What about him? Esther says.
He lost everything.
What’s everything? He ain’t have nothing.
He had something. There was something in his house when it got robbed.
Who robbed him? I bet it was that girl he been hanging around. You know she from out of town.
What does that have to do with anything?
You can’t trust somebody that just show up out of nowhere.
Nothing shows up out of nowhere. But that’s not the point Esther, they took everything from him.
And I said that man didn’t have anything. You must be talking about his parents.
Violette sighs loudly. You don’t have to believe it for it to be true.
I was in his house! Esther says, agitated and trying to turn as much as the space will allow.
When?
A couple months ago…
Oh, so you didn’t hear about him getting famous?
That man ain’t never been famous.
He was. And he made a lot of money.
In two months?
In two weeks!
Selling drugs or sex.
Nope.
What then?
Keep moving and I’ll tell you.
1.
If Trevor did not need money to afford chicken wings from his local Wing King, he would not have bagged groceries at the store where he worked. He barely worked there. He only retained the job because his aunt was in charge of hiring for the grocery store and she would fire him when he showed up late or not at all, then rehire him when he begged for a job because he needed money or the store was in desperate need of personnel.
He did his job like he attended school, out of a sense of obligation and with an eye on the clock, waiting for the time when he could leave without getting a voicemail full of messages from his aunt. It paid minimum wage and when he got his check he would sit at a table alone, steadily growing a mountain of chicken bones at the increasing amazement of every employee and patron at the Wing King on Carowinds Blvd. It didn’t take long for someone to stream him live on Facebook and Trevor decided to start a youtube channel where he posted official videos of his attempts at wing eating world records. He became an overnight sensation when he was featured on the local news and finally broke the record for most chicken wings eaten in 30 minutes – he ate an even 500. He became a local celebrity and that meant free dinners in the luxury room at Concord Motor Speedway, filming commercials in front of Bank of America Stadium, taking pictures at Time Warner Cable Arena. Trevor made more money than he had ever earned and he was happy to spend it to upgrade his life. He went from living with his parents in Indian Trail, to renting a condo in uptown Charlotte in the span of a week. And it was well earned, Trevor worked hard to hone his speed eating skills and he developed a workout regimen to maintain his health and counteract the high fat diet his chosen sport demanded. Trevor changed in the short time that he enjoyed his wealth, proving that a passion for one’s profession contributed to their success in said profession.
But life can be cruel. One afternoon after his morning jog, Trevor came home to a ransacked condo. The things that had not been stolen were broken and Trevor stood in the doorway of his still new home openly weeping. He would lose it even worse later when he realized the thieves had hacked his computer and managed to empty his bank accounts.
***
What is that?
What?
Esther is pointing up at what appears to be a brick ledge in the brick wall in front of them.
Is that a window or something?
Must be… Violette starts
None of that story is true by the way.
Violette laughs. Yes it is. Ask him next time you see him… Violette is interrupted again but this time by the far off sound of metal clanging against brick and men yelling.
Down there! she hears and a panic jolts her body.
We gotta move faster.
What?!… Esther feels Violette nudging at her back and quickens her shuffle.
Just go!
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