Paullina Simons: Tully

Tully continued to live in the trailer, having moved most of Tracy’s stuff to the spare room that once was Damien’s.

When Robin saw the trailer for the first time, he could not hide his disappointment.

‘Tully, why in heaven’s name would you want to live in a dump like this?’ he asked her.

‘It’s not a dump,’ Tully said defensively. ‘I cleaned and painted it. It doesn’t smell anymore. It’s only a hundred dollars a month. And for now, it’s all mine. How many trailers can you say that about?’

‘Tully, you have my whole house. Five bedrooms, a pool, a maid, and all freshly painted,’ said Robin. ‘Why would you choose this instead of that?’

‘Because this,’ said Tully, ‘is dirty, cheap, near the railroad, and all mine. How many places can you say that about?’

‘Who the fuck wants to be near the railroad?’ He grimaced. ‘When will it be time to get away from the railroad?’

‘Can I get away from the railroad?’ Tully wanted to know. ‘I’m a railroad girl, after all.’

Robin just sighed.

August was nearly at an end when Julie came to visit Tully at Carlos O’Kelly’s. Ordering a chimichanga and a Coke, Julie said, ‘I haven’t seen you for a while.’

‘No,’ said Tully, looking intently into her order pad. ‘I’ve been real busy. Will that be a Diet or a regular Coke?’

‘Make it regular,’ said Julie. ‘So Tom left for Brown a week ago.’

‘Oh,’ said Tully, going to clear off the adjacent table. ‘How do you feel about that?’

‘I don’t know. We haven’t spoken since he left.’

‘Now, there’s a surprise,’ said Tully.

‘Here’s a surprise for you,’ said Julie. ‘I don’t even miss him.’

‘What’s to miss?’ said Tully.

‘Tom and I used to talk a lot,’ said Julie, adding, ‘More than you and me.’

Everybody talks more than you and me, Jule, Tully wanted to say.

‘But that’s not why I don’t miss him,’ said Julie.

I know why you don’t miss him, thought Tully, but didn’t say anything.

When Julie finished eating and paid up, she waited for Tully to come out of the kitchen. The girls stood awkwardly near the front doorway.

‘Tully, I’ve come to say good-bye,’ said Julie. ‘I’m leaving for Northwestern tomorrow.’

Tully tried to smile. ‘Oh, well, that’s great, Jule. That’s great. Listen, I’m sure you’ll have a good time. Be sure to write, you hear?’

Julie looked at her bitterly. ‘Yeah, sure, Tully. You, too, okay?’

They hugged each other quickly and moved away.

‘Where are you living now, Tully?’ asked Julie. ‘Are you back home?’

Tully rolled her eyes. ‘No way. I’m right across the street,’ she said. ‘At the trailer park.’

Julie stared at Tully. ‘Ah,’ she said. ‘Well, that’s great. Listen, I gotta go. Take care, will you?’

Tully watched her go out the doors and then went back to her tables.

‘Tully! Tully Makker, right?’

Tully stared blankly into a blithely cheerful face.

‘Remember me? Shakie. Shakie Lamber.’

‘How could I forget you, Shakie Lamber?’ replied Tully. ‘You were Topeka High’s Homecoming Queen.’

‘Yeah, that’s it! And Prom Queen, too, but I didn’t see you at the prom.’

‘I didn’t go,’ said Tully.

‘Didn’t go to your prom? Wow!’ said Shakie. Then, ‘Did you go on the Senior Trip?’

‘Noooo,’ said Tully, already weary. ‘How was Denver?’

‘What a city!’ said Shakie.

‘I’ll bet,’ said Tully. She liked working at Carlos O’Kelly’s, but she sure did run into many of the people she went to high school with. Too many.

‘So how’s it working for this place, Tully? Not too difficult?’

‘No, it’s great. Piece of cake,’ said Tully.

‘Good,’ said Shakie. ‘Because I think I’m gonna apply for a job here. While I’m going to beauty school,’ she added.

‘On the other hand, Shakie,’ said Tully, ‘the hours are horrendous and you have to clean your own tables and the customers don’t tip too good, and –’

‘You’ll help me with this, won’t you?’ said Shakie. ‘I’ve never had a job before.’ She leaned closer to Tully. ‘Not even babysitting.’

‘Great,’ mumbled Tully under her breath.

Shakie got hired and for the first few weeks, Sylvia had her ‘shadowing’ Tully, who couldn’t avoid her. Much as she tried.

‘Shakie,’ Tully would say, ‘you’re going to have to stack your dirty plates, you just can’t carry them out one by one. The tables remain dirty too long and you’re wasting time.’

‘Well, I just can’t do that yet, Tully. I’m new at this. I’ll get it right,’ Shakie would say, and throw her blond mane back. Sylvia finally had to ask Shakie to keep it in a ponytail after one customer left Shakie a $5 bill but commented that he would have preferred a little less hair in his burrito.

Shakie didn’t have a car and usually would wait for her mother to come pick her up. One Saturday night in October, Tully offered to drive Shakie home.

The girls walked across Kansas Avenue to Tully’s trailer. ‘You live here?’ said Shakie.

‘Yeah,’ said Tully. ‘What about it?’

‘It’s real nice,’ said Shakie. ‘And it’s all yours. Must be great.’

‘Shakie…what kind of a name is that?’ Tully asked her when they were on their way.

‘Shakira,’ answered Shakie. ‘I think Mom was expecting an Indian baby. What kind of a name is Tully?’

‘Natalie,’ Tully gave her stock answer. ‘My brother couldn’t pronounce it properly.’ How ironic, Tully thought. I’m asking her what kind of a name she has. Shakira. She’s putting me on.

‘Oh, you got a brother?’ she asked, but before Tully had a chance to respond, Shakie said, ‘I have three brothers. All older. I’m the youngest. The baby of the family.’

‘Swell,’ said Tully.

‘Nice car,’ Shakie said, touching the seats and the dashboard. ‘You make enough money at Carlos to afford a car like this?’

Tully waited, breathed, counted to five. Then she spoke. ‘No, it was a gift.’

‘What, by your folks? Nice parents. We got too many kids in my family, no one has anything newer than 1975. I don’t even have a car yet.’

The girls chatted a while longer.

‘Thanks a lot, Tull,’ said Shakie, opening the door, and Tully winced.

‘Is it okay if I call you Tull?’

Tully nodded her head slowly. ‘Rhymes with gull, right?’ she said. ‘Why not? I love birds. My boyfriend’s name is Robin.’

‘Great,’ said Shakie. ‘Listen, are you busy tomorrow? If it’s a nice day, we’re having a barbecue. Come if you can.’

Tully thanked her for the offer and said she would make it if she could.

Luckily it rained on Sunday and the decision was spared her.

‘So, Shakie,’ asked Tully one Saturday night when she was driving her home again and the girls stopped at the Green Parrot, ‘Who are you going out with these days?’

‘Oh, just here and there,’ said Shakie absentmindedly, and then leaned over to Tully and said, ‘Don’t tell my Mom or anything, but I’m waiting for Jack to come back.’

‘Oh,’ said Tully coldly. ‘Where is Jack nowadays?’

‘Oh, Jack.’ Shakie shook her head. ‘He is somewhere. Nowhere. Anywhere.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘I don’t know. Didn’t he have a football scholarship to someplace or other?’ asked Shakie.

‘Why are you asking me?’ Tully said. ‘You went to the prom with him. How should I know?’

‘Well, nobody knows for sure. I think he had a scholarship to a college in California. Palo Alto or something. I don’t think he went.’