Ric's Fiction Blog

It has been a long while since I participated, hopefully I still remember how this works. :)  Didn't know where I was going when I started, and still not sure if I appreciate this piece, but practice is practice and stepping outside my comfort zone is good for me, like castor oil.

The grey cotton blanketing the mid morning took a turn for the darker.  Steve squinted up as the first stinging icicle struck under his left eye.  Steve leapt into action, he broke into a jog and held his briefcase like a shield over his head trying to block the sub-zero assault falling from above.  He went for the nearest doorway, seeking shelter from the wintery onslaught.  Jenny had told him to bring his jacket on this trip, but he didn't listen, he rarely did.

A brassy tinkling announced his arrival but was too soft to penetrate the gloom of the store.  His senses being assaulted by a scent not unlike the potpourri that Jenny was fond of for their closet.  The shop was lined from front to back with racks and racks of glimmering dresses.  The shop appeared to be somewhat shut down, the only sign of life coming from an alcove in the back wall, where Steve could hear muffled voices being smothered by all of the dresses.  Steve crept like a thief forward brushing whispery murmurs from the passed velvet, satin and silk dresses on the rack.  As he came closer he could make out that there were two voices, one husky and well used, the other vibrant and idealistic.

"I don't think its possible.  The sales have been absolutely dismal.  The economy and all," said the husky voice

"Listen Beatrice, there is no way we are going to close.  We need to work pro bono if we have to, there aren't any places like this in the city.  How can you consider closing?"

"How can I not?  We haven't paid the utilities is more than a month, our rent is due next week, and of course we have to consider them as well."

"I still don't understand why you pay them."

"We need them."

"I don't think we do.  They just extort money from us."

"Their blessing keeps us in business.  The sticker on the door lets our customers know that they are safe."

"This is America, we would be just fine without their support."

"When I opened this shop, we would have been burned down within a week, without them supporting.  They had men in front of the store for the first six months to ensure that it all went well."

Thunder boomed outside an you could hear the rain coming down against the plate glass storefront, the weather reflecting Beatrice's thoughts.

"I still think you are giving them way too much relevance.  To main stream society they aren't respected.  Everyone thinks they are kooks that fight battles that don't need fighting.  I think America is more tolerant now and this shop could easily stand on its own without the monthly blood money paid to them," said the young voice in a matter of fact tone.

"But we still have to respect what it was like before.  Hell opening up this dress shop could, no would have gotten me lynched without their support.  They had men here.  Always.  When someone would try to cause trouble they were right there.  For months they escorted me to and from home.  It was kind of nice.  It was like a dream, I had a burley escort daily and I caught myself daydreaming more than once about the possibilities.  My favorite was Jimmy.  He was so dreamy, but he was catholic.  He wasn't practicing of course, he was just so idealistic and full of passion.  I wonder what happened to old Jimmy.  I would love to look him up and see how he is doing.  He would actually let me know when I looked a fright after a day at the store wore me out.  He had a tender heart and a good soul for a mainstream man."

"Gawd Beatrice, it always comes back to you pining over old Jimmy.  We are talking about the store.  If you stopped paying blood money, would you be able to stay open longer?"

"I doubt it.  I think the glory days of parades and balls are over and we forgot to change with the times.  This store if from the past and needs to belong there.  We sell so little, and our styles are so old.  We are glam but the community doesn't want glam, now they want short skirts and sequins.  We have satin and silk where we only have the old queens come anymore."

Steve backed away towards the door.  He felt decidedly uncomfortable.  His heart was beating fast and he looked around at the dresses like they were going to pounce on him as he snuck back towards the door through the satiny shimmer and wafting feather boas.  He slipped back out the door, just noticing the Macy's male mannequin dressed in a Vera Wang wedding dress.  He looked up through the icy downpour at the shop's name and grunted like he way hit in the gut and started running through the rain, his briefcase at his side.