“I’m only working lunch. Tommy hasn’t given me extra shifts yet.” Arlene shifted in the chair. “My ass is getting numb,” she said. Then, “You want some coffee?”
“You willing to work out west?” Bill asked. He nodded yes to the coffee and then they were both standing up.
“Sure,” said Arlene. She led the way into the kitchen.
Bill leaned against the kitchen counter as Arlene went about setting up the coffee. When she had the percolator on the stove, she stepped over to Bill and invited him to take her in his arms.
“How would that work?” she asked.
“I’d ask Robert to have you worked into their schedule so you could have as many shifts as you needed. You might have to work one shift in one place one shift in the other sometimes on the same day.”
“That’s okay with me. I just need to make money.”
Arlene leaned against Bill as he leaned against the counter and fixed it so that his arms were settled about her back. She snuggled on him, kind of sniffed him up.
“Thanks for being a gentleman,” she said. “Thanks for being a friend.”
“I was wondering why me,” said Bill. “I mean we hardly know each other.”
“Yeah, but sometimes that’s the best way. Sometimes when someone isn’t going to be a part of your life forever it’s easiest to tell them what’s deep down in your soul. It’s not easy to admit you’re scared out of your wits. And believe me, I’m scared out of my wits.”
“So they took me right from my trial to the workhouse,” Bill said. “The judge asked me if I had anything to say and when I started to tell them that the police weren’t telling the truth, he cut me off mid-sentence, banged down the gavel, said ‘policeman don’t lie,’ and pronounced me guilty. They put me in handcuffs, ushered me to the holding cell, and I don’t know, maybe an hour, maybe two hours later I was on my way.
“I never got a chance to say goodbye to my fiancé or my friends. I never got a chance to get money for the commissary, not that I knew anything about it anyway. I never got a chance to do anything. It happened so fast I didn’t know what hit me.
“I was shackled hands and feet. That‘s the way they transported prisoners. And then I was on the bus with some other prisoners. The bus made stops to pick up other prisoners and off we went to the workhouse.
“I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry so bad I didn’t know what to do with myself. I’ve never been so scared in my life and I had no idea what was gonna happen to me. All I knew was that I was scheduled to be in there for the next three weeks and there was no way out of it.”
Bill stroked Arlene’s back and kept her pressed close to him. Because he had not slept he knew he was going to have to pop some black beauties. Meanwhile, Arlene had left the coffee pot on a high flame and he could hear the water starting to boil. He looked over to the stove and could see the water popping up into the little bubble glass on top of the percolator. The coffee’s aroma permeated the air in the kitchen.
Arlene kissed Bill on his cheek. “Go on and finish the story,” she said.
“It’s a long story,” said Bill.
Writer's play 