Indian Lady
‘We’re in the kitchen.’ I answered. I stood. Karen Farmer came through the doorway and right into my arms. I got a kiss and suddenly she was gone. I barely registered the press of her breasts against my chest before she had backed off and plopped into the third chair. Sandy served dinner and we ate. We talked about Dad, the town, who was doing what to whom, the various players in the town politics and the people they thought I might remember from when we all lived here together. From conversations with Dad I knew that Karen had married Ken Farmer and it lasted five years. They had no kids. I also knew Sandy hadn’t married. As it approached nine o’clock there was a silence around the table. Dinner was long over, dishes done and the small talk had ended. Sandy and Karen looked at each other and Sandy said, ‘We need to prepare you for tomorrow.’ She paused. ‘In what way?’ Karen answered, ‘At the funeral tomorrow there will be lots of people. Most of them liked your Dad as a good. It smelled so bad, I quickly grabbed what Mom said to buy, put it in the bag, and gave the cashier some money. He counted it all and gave me some back. With a smile, he said something and waved bye to me. I didn't wave bye to him. I walked out and decided to walk another way to grandma's house. So I did, looking around seeing so many small homes in this new route.I saw a girl my age sitting on front chair at the front of one of the small homes. She looked at me as I walked by, and I smiled as I saw her cute face. I waved hi to her, hoping a wave didn't mean anything negative in this country. She smiled, stood up, and walked towards me. She was as tall as I was, very skinny and so cute, even up close. She smiled and put both hands out together, with palms facing up. SHE WAS A BEGGAR. I swear, she could have been a model in Canada. I took out my wallet, which contained both the remaining money that the store owner gave me and some Canadian dollars. She watched as I opened up my wallet,.
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