Somewhere Else
Zizzle Literary Flash Fiction Finalist Prize Winner/October 2021
Betty, 1940
Just imagine: I’m running away. I’m doing what I’ve read about in books. I’m stuffing my bed with clothes, creating a body-like lump, tucking it in. I’m opening the window, lifting its old wooden frame, lead paint chips exploding like rain. I’m pushing my duffel bag out first, then my long, gawky teenager legs, squeezing through. I’m out on the roof, crawling along. Just imagine: my feet hitting the ground, falling harder than I thought I would, twisting my ankle slightly, a shock of pain as I hobble-run into the woods. Just imagine me crossing over to the road, sticking my thumb out, steeling myself to get in a stranger’s car, climbing in, breathless, spitting out the words that I have held in my throat for years, “I’m trying to get to Philadelphia.”
Agency
Teenage girl (16? 17?) found sleeping on bench at 30th Street Station, unresponsive at first, exceptionally dirty, confused. Said her name was Betty, pretty, brown bobbed hair, strong, well-shaped nose, high cheekbones. At first, said she didn’t know where she was from, then said, “country.” Awkward feet and hands, very large and clumsy looking. Men’s clothes, very worn, stained, holes throughout.
Betty, 1941
Just imagine: living with all the kids from school who always seemed fun. Eliza with the flowered dresses and James who knew the best card tricks. Imagine talking into the night, trading secrets and dreams while eyelids grow heavy. Imagine getting up together, flicking water at one another while bathing at the sink, eating breakfast, warm rolls with butter and strong tea with milk and sugar. Imagine laughing in class, maybe getting in a bit of trouble from old Mr. Kirk, the math teacher. Imagine having a very best friend, Sarah, who understands everything.
Agency
Betty, showered, properly clothed, seemed to be better at the shelter, less frightened, but still not talking. Growled at one of the other teenagers who attempted conversation. Still no information about where she came from, background. No word from the outside about her, no messages, no one seems to be looking. She enjoys the cat that the shelter keeps, Bell.
Betty, 1950
Just imagine: getting a job in an office, having money to spend on yourself. Imagine an apartment with a window that looks out on the park. Imagine working, typing on a typewriter, unfolding a bologna sandwich wrapped in foil and eating it at a desk. Imagine saying good morning and good night. Imagine family back home missing you, wondering why you are not around to ignore and abuse anymore. Imagine sliding your own key into your own lock, opening the door to your own apartment full of your own things, your own cat coming to greet you, wrapping a warm, purring body around your legs.
Agency
Betty placed in good location, Mr. Stanson’s apartment building. He agreed to give free room and small stipend for housekeeping: cleaning Stanson’s apartment and bathroom, shopping, sweeping hallways and stairwell, running errands as directed. Stanson not the nicest man, but neighborhood safe and apartment comfortable. Outfitted apartment with furniture and household goods from Salvation Army. Stanson does not like pets. Stuffed cat with bell attached to neck obtained for Betty.
Betty, 1980
Just imagine: eating at the Four Seasons, the one on the Parkway, high tea with Sarah. Tiered plates offering tiny sandwiches: egg and chicken salad, tiny celery pieces and onion chopped fine, smoked salmon, cucumber sandwiches on soft white bread. Small iced lemon cakes, strawberries dipped in chocolate, champagne cocktails. Just imagine the light, a shimmery late afternoon light, like the color of the champagne, illuminating the back of smooth, clean hair.
Agency
Mr. Stanson called to complain about the state of Betty’s apartment. Hoarding situation: many newspapers, books, and clothing items stacked up very high, filling rooms, unsafe. Food in strange places (under couch, bed, etc.), refrigerator extremely unhygienic. Mr. Stanson reports Betty behaving strangely, muttering to self in hallways, knocking on other tenants’ doors, “being a nuisance.” Talked Stanson out of eviction. Agency will pay small stipend from this point If Stanson agrees to let her stay. Brought Betty favorite foods: doughnuts and Coke. Offered her a volunteer for visits, help cleaning. She accepted.
Betty, 2010
Just imagine: watching out the window for Sarah. Just imagine buzzing her in, offering a cup of tea. Just imagine Bell jumping up on Sarah’s lap. Just imagine having a gift of a gold mug or an old book, poetry. Just imagine lying back and listening to Sarah read, relaxing into James Herriot’s [LD1] animal stories. Just imagine starting to cry, the stories remind you of being a child in Lancaster. Just imagine pushing any darkness out with the light of a visit of an old friend, a good story.
Agency
Susan, the volunteer, reports cleaning apartment close to impossible, but the two enjoy each other’s company, despite Betty’s moods. Susan talks and reads out loud, plans to bring her cat, Fern, to visit. Betty feeling poorly so much since the surgery.
Betty, 2020
Just imagine: running through summer grass, dew soaking bare feet and legs. Just imagine the evening air cool and clear, the moon full, fireflies flickering. Just imagine a long-lost brother, Jack, grasping onto his small, smooth hand. Just imagine a house in the distance, light in the window, a table set. Just imagine running there with Jack and entering.
Agency
Went to apartment to retrieve something of Betty’s before Stanson called the clean-up crew.
Large mound collected in center of the room. Terrible, rancid smell. Retrieved white ceramic plate, the one used for the doughnuts, and a matching sugar bowl. Found box of pictures, one with Betty as she was years ago when we found her, with the bobbed hair, standing under a tree. Those feet, shoved into big shoes, still the same. Her eyes the same, too, looking off into the distance, looking off to somewhere else.
