Garbage Lady

57 RACHLIN NACHID RACHLIN GARBAGE LADY End ofsummer It must be Sunday. Many people are gong into the Church of the Holy Trinity across the street. The women are dressed up in skirts or suits, some of them wearing hats. I enter the little courtyard and sit on a bench, listening to a hymn being sung in the chapel. After a while I get up and look inside through the blue windowpane. I see only silhouettes and shadows so I wander away. I decide to take a ride on the subway-you can go both ways for the price of one on Sundays. The train is rather empty and I sit with my four shopping bags at my sides. I ride all the way to Queens and turn around without getting out of the station. Still summer I worked hard today, looking for a coat, a hat, a sweater, and a pair of gloves which I need for winter. I like to start early. I covered many blocks-from York to Fifth and 34th to 86th Streets. I found a pair of gloves on the steps of a house on 84th Street but nothing else. Oh, well, there is still time. Summer I thought I should do something about my toothache and went to the clinic at Mt. Sinai Hospital. There was a long wait. I sat on a bench and watched the other people. Most of them were absorbed in themselves and hardly noticed me, except for the woman sitting next to me who seemed a little disgruntled and kept a space between us on the seat. A nurse called in everyone but me. I got up and left. I debated whether I should get some aspirins. I did not—they make me sick to my stomach. I walked to the East River and stared at the waves. After a while I felt no pain. Autumn It is a mild morning. I leave the empty alleyway behind Lowe's Cine and wonder what I should do about breakfast. I go to the Madison delicatessen and look in an immense metal box in the back. I reach down and push away the rubbish. There is a slightly warm ball of meat and bread crumbs, a piece of potato, a partially burnt slice of toast and a bit of fish. I do not remember the exact names for these dishes. 58 THE MINNESOTA REVIEW Why should I? After eating I rummage through the box for other useful items. I find a cloth and a half-finished tube of lipstick. I stuff them into my already overfilled bags. A young woman comes out of the restaurant, sees me and, startled, drops her eyeglasses on the ground. She picks them up and walks away rapidly. So what? The same day I sit on the doorway of a quiet building on York and 84th Street and take an inventory of the things inside of my bags. I must get rid of some of them. There is a skirt, a blouse, several socks, three pairs of underpants, bobby pins, a large wishbone, a dress, a mat I spread to sleep on at night, a sheet, rouge, Newsweek, the lipstick and the cloth I just found, a greenish bottle (I love glass, it is indestructible), and a purse holding my 200 dollars and change. I worry about carrying all that money but it is better than having it in a bank. I throw one of the socks and the skirt, which has a rip on the side, into a garbage can. A stray dog wanders over and sniffs. Then I start for the post office. I think it is close to the time that my money comes. Each month I get a 70 dollar check from Uncle Bob. I have not seen him in years and would not know what he looks like or how old he is. I manage to save some of that money. My expenses average 65 dollars a month-50 dollars for food, 10 dollars for sleeping in hotel rooms when I cannot find a door open on cold nights and 5 dollars for odds and ends such as aspirin, gum, thread...