Fifth Annual Wild Violet Writing Contest Winners (2007)
Fiction
— First Place
X
and Q
By Barbara Purbaugh
(continued)
After they ate, they walked to the counter to pay.
"Paul
Getty already paid for your lunch," the waitress said.
Miriam,
Bernadette, and Diane looked at him.
He
grinned.
Bernadette
clicked her tongue again.
When
they got back to the office, Bernadette's dad was waiting in front of
the building in an old gray pick-up truck.
"Well,"
Bernadette said softly, "there's my dad." Then, she answered
a question no one had asked: I'm
going to work at the lumber yard."
Bernadette's
dad loaded the typewriter onto his truck. Bernadette climbed into the
passenger side of the truck and waved as they drove away.
"It's
back to the insurance company for me," Diane muttered. "You
got another job?" she asked Miriam.
"Not
yet," Miriam said as she watched Diane slide her typewriter onto
the back seat of her car.
Diane
hugged her quickly. "You did good work here," Diane whispered.
Miriam nodded and hugged her lightly. She watched her drive away.
Miriam
waited alone inside the building until Sergeant Burrows arrived with his
men and his truck. "Pack it all up, boys," he commanded.
Miriam
stood silent as she watched the young men with Army haircuts and shiny
boots haul away the desks and filing cabinets.
"You
need us to take care of that feed sack for you, ma'am?" one of them
asked, startling Miriam. He had a broad, flat face and a chipped tooth.
"No,"
Miriam said shaking her head, "I'll take it to the feed store."
"Well,
at least let me haul it outside for you, ma'am." His hand moved to
touch the feed sack.
"No,
that's okay. I'll…"
"I'm
here for that feed sack, ma'am." It was Paul Getty leaning against
the doorframe, his hands shoved in his pockets, a slow wide grin on his
face.
Miriam
smiled back. Paul moved forward and picked the feed sack up with his left
hand, cradling it under his arm like a football.
Miriam
walked out the door with him. She stopped in front of Sergeant Burrows.
"Here is my key," she said handing it to him.
"Thank
you, Miss McDonald."
Farther
down the street, Paul grinned at Miriam. "So, what you got in here?"
he asked, shaking the feed sack under his arm.
"Some
feathers."
He
laughed out loud.
"How'd
you know?" she asked.
"Fellows
in the 5 & dime."
Miriam
laughed.
When
they rounded the corner, Paul Getty tossed the feed sack into the trash.
He extended his elbow toward Miriam and grinned. She slid her hand under
his arm, and they walked arm in arm down the street.
