Coins Dropping
Cacti tendrils brim over the clay pots below the peeling Rita’s Resale Shoppe sign. With her mitten, Ana picks at the hoarfrost at the window’s edge, trying to read the movie poster stuck inside the window. She has uncovered “Sandra Dee, Romanoff and” when Mami pulls her to the shop door.
A bell rings loudly when they enter a musty room crammed with clothes-laden wood tables. Music is playing.
“Ah,” Mami says and stops in place.
Ana looks up. Mami has closed her eyes and is shaking her head slightly as she sings in a whisper,
“Tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?”
Papi hated that song because Mami kept playing it and playing it and playing it. “I’m fed up—harto—with Elvis Presley,” he had shouted.
Mami now shakes her head briskly, opens her eyes, and nudges Ana to move into the store.
Ana moves heavily. She doesn’t want to be here. She’s so hungry! Why didn’t they just go home so she could eat? She didn’t care if Mami wanted to stop here first to buy Ana a new outfit for her third-grade school concert. Didn’t Mami remember that Papi said he was about to be laid off and that they couldn’t spend money?
Unable to see over the clothes piled on the tables, Ana looks up at the exposed fluorescent lights humming on the stamped-tin-ceiling. At least, it’s warm in here, she thinks as she absently takes off her mittens which then dangle by her side.
“Oh, it’s you, Dolores,” a woman calls out. “Nice to see you. Haven’t seen you in a while.”
The overflowing tables keep Ana from seeing who spoke to Mami.
“Hi, Rita,” Mami mumbles and pulls her past the tables.
Mami’s purse dislodges a maroon sweater as they rush by. The sweater floats toward the worn wood floor. Ana bends over to pick it up, but Mami suddenly veers toward a rack of blouses and yanks Ana with her. At the rack, Mami’s fingertips flutter over the tops of the blouses. Then she flips over a price tag, only to drop it instantly. She draws Ana further into the store. They stop at a table spilling over with girl’s clothing. Smiling broadly now, Mami releases Ana’s hand and plunges both arms into the pile, her round belly keeping her at a slight remove from the table.
Paper crackles to their right. Ana turns to look. A chalk-faced woman, old like her grandmother but with hair red like a fall leaf, sits on a stool by the cash register, scratching her head with a joint-swollen finger. On the counter before her, a metal thermos bottle and cap cup lay spread out on a paper napkin, next to a thick sandwich partly unwrapped from its wax paper. The old woman gives Ana a fleeting smile, just long enough to expose long, overlapping teeth. When she finishes unwrapping the sandwich, the contents bulge out of the soft slices of Wonder Bread.
Meat and tomatoes, maybe even onion!
Ana looks up at Mami. Has she smelled the onion yet? But Mami is not paying attention. She is still combing through the clothes pile.
Ana walks toward the counter to watch as the old woman’s long red fingernails indent the soft white bread. When she takes a bite, ketchup oozes onto the napkin. Ana’s mouth fills with saliva. Her stomach seems to fold on itself. She hears soft thumping behind her and turns back to see Mami’s navy purse hit the wood table each time she reaches into the clothes pile.
Ana walks back to Mami, nudges her, and points to the purse. Mami looks down and then pushes the purse back on her coat sleeve. Ana gazes at the sleeve’s crisscrossing orange and brown threads, and she remembers the whispering she overheard the night Mami bought that coat home.
“But it’s second hand,” Mami had whimpered. “The coat I have now ¡ay! even the buttons are falling apart.”
“Dolores, Dolores,” Ana’s father had said, “You keep thinking buying things at Rita’s is okay cause it’s second hand, but I’m down to four days a week and they’re talking layoffs now!”
What was Papi going to say now if Mami bought something for Ana?
Ana tugs at Mami’s sleeve.
Mami looks down at her. “What is it now?”
“I don’t need it.”
Mami frowns. “What?”
“I don’t need new clothes.”
Mami extracts her arms from the clothes pile and lets them hang by her sides. The purse clatters to the wood floor. Her olive skin becomes flushed and her brown eyes turn dark, very dark. With her coat sleeve, she brushes a strand of hair from her forehead. Then she rests a hand on Ana’s head. Ana can barely feel it through her thick woolen cap.
“Anita, preciosa, I’m-” Mami’s shoulders slump and she squeezes her fleshy lips. She removes her hand and returns to the table. “Why don’t you just look around, okay?”
Ana stares at her for a moment. Was Mami sure?
“Go on. Go on.”
Mami waves her off and snatches a pink blouse from the mound in front of her before throwing it to the other end of the table. Then she reaches back into the pile, her back arched so that her belly is protected, and she starts sorting.
Ana turns away in time to see the old woman bite into her bulging sandwich. Ana wanders over to watch and rests her chin at counter level. Ketchup drips onto the woman’s fingers, and she grazes her shiny, red hooked fingernail around the sandwich to wipe the oozing ketchup. Then she sticks the finger in her mouth to lick it clean. She scrunches the napkin to clean her other fingers.
About to bite into the sandwich again, she notices Ana and blinks hard. Wiggling her shoulders, the woman takes a bite. An onion slice falls out. Ana can really smell that onion. The woman picks it up and pushes it back inside.
Ana can’t stop looking at the red lipstick left on the white bread. The old woman flicks her a glance and then smoothes her dome of teased red hair before taking another bite. Ana wonders if the crunching she hears is the onion.
The door bell rings. A blast of freezing air hits her. Ana hears a semi barreling down the street as she turns to see who has come in. Her stomach drops. Papi is really going to be mad at them now. It’s a colored man! A tall, skinny one. Papi had said, I don’t care how good a bargain you can get at Rita’s. I don’t want you in there. Only Negroes go there now, don’t you know that?
Ana glances at Mami, focused on the clothes pile in front of her. She hears a grunt to her left as the red-haired woman lowers her sandwich and stares at the colored man. His face scrunches tightly as he takes off his gloves and unbuttons his coat. Then he starts walking in their direction, the sound of his metal taps loud on the wood floor. Ana backs into the counter until her shoulder is nestled under its lip. The taps clicking on the wood floor come closer. Step by step, Ana slides back along the counter, noticing out of the corner of her eye that Mami’s arms are now frozen in mid-air, a blouse dangling from one hand, her eyes opened wide. Ana bumps up against something but doesn’t look back to see what it is. The man is right in front of the counter now. She can smell the wet wool of his black coat, which he squeezes tightly with a big bony, ashy hand. He’s so dark, his fingernails look like white marbles.
Mami drops the blouse and rushes toward Ana as the colored man walks past. Hearing the metal taps, Ana looks down at his shoes. They’re shiny brown. Deeply creased, kind of like his face. When he lifts his heel, she can see worn metal taps. He heads into the back of the store and disappears from her sight.
Ana edges forward to see where he’s gone. He’s in front of a rack of men’s suit jackets. Suddenly, Mami hauls her by the shoulder back to the children’s clothing table.
After securing her blue purse snugly between her feet, Mami straightens up and glares at the back of the store. “Hunh,” she says and picks up a beige-brown plaid, box-pleated skirt lying on top of the clothes pile and throws it over her shoulder.
What if Papi finds out they’re here? They’re going to get in trouble!
Ana tugs at Mami’s coat. “Mami, you don’t have to get me anything.”
“¡Ay! niña.” Mami glanced at the rear of the store, her jaw muscles flickering. “I’m almost done. Stop being such a majadera.”
But I’m not a pest if I keep you from getting in trouble, Ana thinks. Then she sighs and bends over to peek under the wood table. Where’s the colored man?
Mami pulls her up roughly by the collar.
“Stay put,” Mami hisses.
Ana hears metal hangers clicking against each other somewhere in the back. The old woman is looking back there, running her tongue over her crooked teeth, working her lips to dislodge food bits. The sandwich in her hand sprawls open. Pink, moist meat spills out. Ana starts toward the counter.
“Oh!” she hears from behind her. Ana looks back.
Mami pulls out a tan turtleneck wool sweater from the pile. She lifts it in front of her face, her chin bobbing with emphasis. She pulls the sweater’s underarm seams and then turns over the hem and rakes a fingernail across it.
Metal taps click on the floor. Mami’s arms fall and she gazes at the back of the store, remaining very still, as if holding her breath.
The sound of metal taps comes closer. Mami reaches over and pulls her in, holding her tightly against her thighs. The sound of metal taps clicking on the floor stops. Mami’s body relaxes. She bends over, unbuttons Ana’s coat, and opens it wide. She measures the sweater against Ana’s shoulders and then compares the skirt’s width with Ana’s waist. Ana bends her knees to see if she can see the man’s legs under the tables, but Mami yanks her up.
“¡Muchacha, párate!”
Ana straightens up. The metal taps start again. Ana shudders and hugs her chest. Why doesn’t Mami just get out? Isn’t she scared too? She looks up at Mami who sweeps up the skirt and sweater in one hand and then reaches down for her blue purse. Upright again, Mami stares at the back of the store, then at the counter, and back at the rear again. Finally, she shrugs and lifts the skirt and sweater toward Ana.
“You like it?” Mami gives her a tentative smile, her jowl quivering.
Ana glances at the beige-brown skirt, the turtleneck that’s the color of coffee with milk in it.
How is she supposed to wear those clothes if Papi was not supposed to know that Mami went shopping? Mami’s chest rises and falls heavily as she waits for Ana’s answer.
Ana nods.
Mami prods Ana with her purse. “Vámonos. Come on.”
At the cash register, Ana sneaks a look at the back. The colored man is trying on a gray suit jacket. His bony wrists hang out of the sleeves. He looks like a scarecrow! He shakes the jacket off and catches Ana watching him. His eyes glide quickly away. Her heart thumps hard.
Mami places the turtleneck and skirt on the counter at a safe distance away from the opened, stained napkin. She bends over to read the handwritten tags and then straightens up, still holding on to the tags, her full lips alternately firming and loosening. At length, she nods and starts to open her purse but then stops to stare at the colored man.
She twists her body to face the front door and carefully extracts some coins before snapping her purse shut and turning back to the counter. She slides the coins toward the red-haired lady who lays down her sandwich and wipes her fingers by brushing them across the soiled napkin. The sandwich is half-eaten already. The bitten-off areas are pink. It sure looks like beef. It smells like beef!
“You’re wearing your new coat,” the woman says. “You never did tell me if your husband liked it.”
Mami glances at Ana. “Well.” She draws out the sound. Then she shrugs. “You know men. When I showed him what a bargain it was? I mean, I can’t believe somebody got rid of this.” She pats her coat with an open palm and smiles.
Ana’s hand clears the counter’s edge and reaches for a stray piece of bread. The old woman suddenly leans toward Mami. Ana swiftly pulls her hand back. Keeping the colored man in sight out of the corner of her eye, the old woman whispers, “We got new stuff in this morning, Dolores. I haven’t sorted it out yet, but if I find something you want, I should call you?”
Mami takes a deep breath, averts her gaze, and shakes her head.
Ana stares at the still bulging sandwich. The smell of beef makes her stomach ache. Won’t the old woman give her some?
No. The old woman looks angry now, her lips curling as she stares at Mami and snatches the coins from the counter. She juts out her jaw and punches 2 and then 00 on the metal cash register.
“Ah,” Mami murmurs as the gears tumble.
Ana walks around the counter, following its cold, metal edge with her chin, her eyes always on the sandwich. A half-eaten slice of tomato has spilled out. If Ana’s quick, could she grab it? Or maybe snatch that broken off piece of onion? She doesn’t care. It would all taste so good.
The old woman pulls the side lever down. The cash drawer rings open.
Ana’s fingers creep toward the sandwich. Her teeth move as if they are already chewing. Her tongue curls up as if to dislodge soft bread from the roof of her mouth. But all that does is make her mouth fill with saliva.
The old woman is dropping the coins into the cash register drawer when her head snaps up. She slams the drawer shut and glares at the back of the store. Ana pulls her hand back from the counter when she sees the colored man coming toward them, a suit jacket draped over his arm.
Papi had said to watch for that, that a man could be hiding a gun beneath a folded coat. Her heart now thumping, Ana glances at the front door.
How fast could they get out of there before the colored man drops that suit jacket, points the gun, and orders them to hand over all their money? Isn’t that why Papi warned them to stay away from this store? In case something like this happened?
Keeping an eye on the colored man, the old woman reaches below the counter and blindly searches for something.
The man places his free hand in his pocket.
Mami clutches Ana’s shoulders and stumbles back from the counter. Ana burrows into Mami’s belly.
The man stops at a table of men’s clothes, drapes the suit jacket on the table, and jingles the coins in his pocket. Then he pulls out his hand.
Ana’s breath expels loudly. No gun!
The colored man’s long, bony fingers sift through the coins in his palm before he drops them back in his pocket. Then he starts sorting the pile of clothes. Mami releases her grip. The old woman straightens up and whips open a paper bag. With her forearm, she shoves aside her sandwich, bringing it closer to Ana. It smells so good! Ana’s chin creeps over the edge of the counter. Her right hand slides toward the sandwich.
The old woman reaches for the skirt and turtleneck and bumps up against Ana’s hand. Ana pulls her hand back. The wrinkled face looms toward her. Up close, the lips look cracked under the red lipstick. Mami grabs the bag from the woman and shoves the sweater and skirt into it. The old lady turns away from Ana and, smiling stiffly, says, “See you soon, Dolores?”
Mami picks up the bag and her purse. She pauses.
“Sure. I hope so.”
The old woman leans across the counter. Darting looks at the colored man, she mumbles, “Maybe the next time you come, psst, that schvartze won’t be here.”
Mami clutches the bag to her chest. “You going to be okay, Rita?” she whispers.
The old woman doesn’t answer. She watches the colored man read the tag of a black sweater he’s lifted from the pile. “Between the niggers and the spics,” she mutters.
Mami makes a choking sound. The old woman swivels her head, gazing at them with hard eyes.
Then she shrugs and reaches for her sandwich. A bit of bread breaks off and lands on the counter.
Ana reaches for it but is held back by Mami’s grip.
The metal taps ring out again. The old woman slaps the sandwich down and sits up straight. Mami pulls her away and hurries toward the door.
Ana stumbles, trying to keep up.
“I thought she liked you,” Ana says when she comes abreast of Mami again, “Why’d she say that about spics?”
Mami wrenches the door open. The bell clangs. Outside, they stand by the door while Mami pries her gloves from her pocket.
“Like me? What’re you talking about? She’s a Jew!” She rubs her thumb and forefinger together.
“That’s all she likes.”
It hurts to breathe outside. The biting-cold air smells of exhaust. Ana pulls on her mittens. Mami starts walking toward the bus stop. Ana turns to gaze at the cacti pots in the window. One has a red blossom on its tip. How pretty. She wishes she could take it home. But maybe it would die there. Anyway, it would cost too much. Through the window, she is startled to see that the colored man has turned away from the counter and now heads for the front door. Ana backs away slowly. Then she pivots and runs to catch up to Mami.
Mami sits on the bench and grabs the coin pouch from out her purse. Ana hears the clink of coins dropping as Mami slides nickels and pennies through her fingers. Then Mami lets the pouch drop to her lap, sighs, and gazes across the street. Her jaw muscles flicker. After a while, she throws the coins back in her purse and jumps up from the bench. She reaches for Ana’s hand and draws her away from the bus stop.
They are almost at the end of the block when Ana hears the wheeze of a bus coming to a stop. She looks back. The tall, skinny colored man rises from the bench, walks slowly toward the front of the bus, and waits for its doors to open. When they do, he steps up and enters the bus. When the bus passes by Ana, the colored man is sitting by a window, looking down, his head propped up by his scrawny hand.
“Ana Consuelo! Hurry up!” Mami calls out from a few paces ahead. “We have a long way to walk, and it’s so cold. Ay Dios mío, que hace frío.”
Ana watches the black exhaust trail from behind the bus. Her fingers already hurt inside her mittens. She looks back toward Rita’s Resale Shoppe and can almost smell the onion and pink meat again. She can taste the ketchup oozing out of the sandwich and feel the cushiony-soft white bread indenting under the old woman’s fingers. It would take only fifteen minutes to get home on that bus. Now it is going to be more than an hour before she can have something to eat.