Untitled - CSUN ScholarWorks - California State University, Northridge

eassuring clinical hardness to match her clear eyes; maybe
even a promise of study and experimentation. She looked
almost rosy, but subdued. The people made the room noisy
with their chatter. His mouth twitched. He wondered if
ancestral spirits were laughing and poking at him. But he
kept his eyes more or less on the blonde client while she
wrapped up her lengthy goodbye. When she finally moved
away Sam turned his body to face Esther, who was
standing near the entrance and not moving anything but
her eyes.
Esther sucked in her breath, holding it for a few seconds
before blowing it out. She felt her hips square themselves
parallel to the ground. She would take another step soon.
But her eyes scanned the tops of the walls, where they
turned into ceiling. That was where she should be, her back
hovering against the wall up there, held by static electricity,
and her head popping through the ceiling. She could float
there and watch for her arm wax customer, Mia Goskins, a
useless girl who had once been on MTV's horrible Singled
Out show, and had ridden a bus from Santa Barbara for the
privilege. And now she's mine, Esther planned. Those stupid,
tired arms would be purged of hair re-growth, and then be
filled with purposefulness. She would see to that. Esther
had never bothered to think about the girl before. She saw
her every month or so, and her attentions remained above
the surface. But her whiskey would dig Esther into the
girl's soul. She would prepare.
Sam backed into a chair and sat. Her marrow must be soft.
He could pull it out.
She smiled at him and took large steps toward her room.
A few feet before him she felt her keys fall from her hands.
Damn it. She could feel him watching her. She didn't know
how to bend down to get her keys. She hadn't planned on
making a mistake. She imagined John the Roadie bending
and lifting important things. How could she compete? She
shakily knelt down. Her keys were there, but she could still
feel Sam watching. Was this his business? She grabbed at
the keys, but they fell from her fingers again. She felt like
warm rubber. Anxiety.
Sam sat and watched her fumble. He watched her pick
up her keys, only to drop them a second later. She did three
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