B.L. Miller - Crystal's Heart

Laura settled on the couch while Crystal took the recliner. An awkward silence formed as neither was certain what to say to the other. Crystal took a bite of her sandwich.

"How is it?" Laura asked.

"Good." She took another bite, her stomach appreciating something healthy for a change. Realizing that she couldn't just eat her roommate's food and disappear back upstairs, Crystal resigned herself to being at least somewhat sociable. "So your mother and brother showed up, where's your father?"

"He died seven years ago." Sensing the opening allowed by the question, Laura tucked her right foot up under her left thigh and took a sip from her glass. "What about you? You said you have an older sister. What about your folks?"

Crystal took another bite of her sandwich and shrugged. "Last I knew they were both alive and living up in Curtisville."

"You don't talk to them?"

"No." She picked through the sandwich triangles on the plate before settling on what looked like chicken salad. "I haven't spoken to them since the day I left." She took a bite and grimaced. "Ugh, what is this?"

"Isn't that the one I said I had no clue?"

"Must be." The stripper looked around and spotted the paper bag sitting on the counter. The buzz was starting to wear off. Well if you want to chat, I'm gonna drink. She stood up and went out to the kitchen, returning moments later with a rock glass filled withi.e.a bottle of cola, and her whiskey. She was just sitting down when Laura decided to resume the earlier conversation.

"So why aren't you in contact with them?"

While not unexpected, the question did cause Crystal to hesitate and look over at her roommate. "It's a long story."

"I'm a good listener."

Silence reigned as Crystal waged an internal war. Don't tell. The words echoed over and over in her mind. No one will believe it anyway. "Let's just say it wasn't a happy time in my life." She reached down and picked up the glass and whiskey, pouring until the amber liquid filled more than half the glass. She added just enough soda to change the color of the drink, then settled back in the recliner.

"Is that what the nightmares are about?"

Crystal swallowed, wincing as the burning liquor made its way down her throat. "You want the Reader's Digest version?" Her voice was tinged with anger. "My father is an asshole and my mother is a spineless coward who cares more about what the neighbors think than about her kids." The glass made its way to her lips again.

"Is that why your sister ran away?"

"You think of a better reason?" Normally Crystal would have ended the conversation by now but the alcohol was doing a good job of keeping the defenses down. "I took off a year later."

Laura's brow furrowed as she did the mental math. "You said earlier you were fourteen when she left. You were only fifteen when you ran away?" "Fifteen and a half, actually. Not the best age to be out on the streets but what the hell. It was better than being with them," she said bitterly, her gaze focused on the coffee table.

"There wasn't anyone you could turn to? An aunt, a teacher?"

Crystal snorted and drained her drink. "Once Patty told a teacher what was happening. She called our mother." Her face turned hard and she reached for the whiskey bottle. "Guess who she told?"

"Your father?"

The stripper nodded. "He beat Patty senseless. You think I was ever stupid enough to tell someone else?" She shook her head and made another drink. Somewhere in Crystal's drunken mind it registered that she was doing exactly that. She was telling her roommate, a woman she barely knew, that her father used to beat her. This time she didn't bother with the cola, drinking the whiskey straight. "I bet the characters in your stories never have such sordid pasts, eh?"

"Um, no not usually."

"Of course not." The liquid sloshed around in her glass as she gestured with her hands. "This is normal to you. A nice home, a reliable car, a family that loves you

I never had that." The urge for a cigarette was growing as was her desire for a strong hit of pot. She tugged lightly on her shirt. "I think I'm gonna go change and relax on the balcony."

"I guess it is kind of warm tonight. I'm sure you're due for a cigarette too." Laura stood up and reached for Crystal's glass. "I'll get us both fresh ice and meet you up there."

Meet me? Damn. There was no good excuse for refusing Laura's company and she did say she was going out on the balcony. "Uh, yeah sounds good." She picked up the whiskey bottle and headed for the stairs, determined to get a hit in before her roommate joined her outside.

Crystal was pulling on her shorts when she heard Laura coming up the stairs. Damn, you're quick, she thought as she zipped up and walked over to the nightstand. Opening the drawer, she pulled out a small flat wooden pipe and one of her many lighters. She took two quick puffs before putting it back and closing the drawer. Grabbing her bottle, cigarettes, and ashtray, she stepped out onto the balcony seconds before Laura.

"Oh good," Laura said when she saw the ashtray. "I wasn't sure you had one, especially when I saw all the butts on the grass." "I usually don't think to bring it out here with me." Crystal flopped down on the white plastic chair and reached for the glass Laura had brought up for her. "Figured you'd have a fit if I tossed one over the rail."

"You figured correctly," the dark haired woman replied. "It took me a good fifteen minutes to pick all those up this morning." "Fine, I won't toss them anymore." She lit a cigarette and reached for her bottle.

"Are you working tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I've taken more nights off lately than I can afford as it is." Crystal looked out at the shadowed outlines of the trees as dusk settled. "You ever hear the owl?"

"Oh, you mean George? Yeah, I hear him at night sometimes when I'm up late writing." Laura looked out as well, as if she could spot the elusive bird hiding between the leaves.

"There used to be an owl that lived in the trees near the trailer park," the blonde woman said, taking a drink between sentences. "At night sometimes I'd hear him. I used to lie awake wondering who he was looking for."

"The love of his life, I would imagine," Laura said. "Isn't that what we're all looking for?"

"I'd rather have money," Crystal said, her eyebrows raising when she heard her companion laugh. "What?"

"You don't have a romantic bone in your body, do you?"

"I don't believe in fairy tales." She brought the glass to her lips, finding comfort in the familiar smell of whiskey. "Life ain't the Brady Bunch." "No, it's not," Laura agreed. "But it isn't Oliver Twist, either. Life is what you make of it."

"More like what it makes of you," the stripper replied sourly, drawing hard on her cigarette.

"The great thing about being an adult is the freedom to make choices," Laura said, glancing over to see Crystal drain her glass and reach for the dwindling supply of whiskey. "When I was in college my folks expected me to end up being a teacher. I was miserable studying all the time when all I wanted to do was write stories."

"So you have a degree?"

Laura nodded. "I've never used it. I doubt I could even get State certification at this point without going back for more credits." "At least you have something to fall back on." She stubbed the cigarette out and took a sip of her drink.

"Well, you have a skill, Crystal. You're fit, you can dance." The brief image of her roommate at the Tom Cat Club, half-naked and slithering around the center pole, flashed through Laura's mind. "I think they're looking for an aerobics instructor over at Mary's House of Fitness." It was hard to make out the quiet woman's features in the fading daylight but the clenched jaw and white-knuckled grip on the glass were still evident. "Crystal? Is something wrong?"