All Alices

brandt 53 Pamela Brandt AU Alices They told her to be there at eight A.M. sharp. Anyone arriving late could not be guaranteed a place. Jessica brushes her teeth twice and wears extra-guard deodorant. Her mother is still busy fixing the hem of her new dress. Silver pins are stuck in her mother's mouth, in the early morning hour her mother's face looks grey. Tell them you can sing, her mother mumbles, do that number out of West Side Story, Tonight . . tonight. . . I can't sing Mom, you know that. Her brother slumps into the room, rubbing his eyes. He doesn't really mind driving Jessica all the way out there, but he doesn't let on. C'mon, he shouts, I aint got all day. It's not like she's meeting the Pope or anything. He's watching his sister. AU of his friends thought she was a piece. A bit flat chested, no ass, but nice hair. Blonde. When she walked down the street, it swung over her shoulders like a golden wave. COME ON! Oh hush Sam, I'm almost done. Jessica starts sweating. The deodorant promised twenty-four hour protection. She places two kleenex beneath her armpits and wipes. She considers if she should put a few kleenex in her bra. A girl from her gym class did that, and claimed that's how she got her job at Burger Barn. Jessica places a crumbled tissue in her left cup. It itches and crinkles next to her skin. Her mother sighs. It's about finished now. God knows I couldn't have done much better. Her daughter slips the dress over her head. Jessica still thinks it's too long, and her ankles look thick. But she nods her head and tries to smile. In the kitchen her father reads the paper. He does not look up as his daughter walks through. The kitchen table is still dirty from the night before, Jessica knows it would be sticky and moist to touch. Get the job! her father yells as she walks into the cool morning air. The sun is finally rising. Across the street she sees Mr. Valentine mowing his lawn. Even in the summer, he wears his old pea jacket and hunting cap. He waves at Jessica, but she turns away. Suddenly she feels very sad for Mr. Valentine. She can never make herself wave back. Her brother starts the car. Why can't she ever wave? What is wrong with her? She stands there in the drive, watching Mr. Valentine turn a corner with his lawn mower. A horn honks. She walks to the car, but before she opens the 54 the minnesota review door she sniffs beneath her armpits, runs her tongue over her teeth. She is ready. The employee's entrance is behind a rollercoaster called The Cyclops. Motionless, Jessica thinks it looks like a great wiry skeleton hidden behind clouds. Even two hours early, and still there are so many girls. So many girls who look just like her. Pale pantyhose, green eyeshadow, blonde bangs and frosted lips. The girl behind Jessica asks if she can borrow some lipstick and exclaims that she too wears the same shade, Apricot Glaze, by Lady Aurora. The girl is from Arkansas, she has hot shiny skin that she pats with a white handkerchief. I used to work in Orlando, the girl tells Jessica. They made me dye my hair jet black. I was Snow White, prancing round Main Street every noon. My Momma cried when I came home, hair looking like a darkie. She stares hard at Jessica. You're lucky you're blonde, she drawls, and pretty. They only hire the pretty ones for the good jobs. If you're overweight, or got pimples, they'll stick you in the restrooms, or worse, running the kiddie rides. The girl from Arkansas is wearing a bandanna over her head. Jessica wonders what color her hair is now. The girl drags on a cigarette, and moves away from Jessica with a shudder. Jessica begins to feel a rip in her hose around her left knee, she tries not to move...