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Wrong Side of the Tracks
by Nina D’Arcangela

Wrong side of the tracks, my ass. As far as I’m concerned, any side of the tracks I’m on is the right side, and I’ll see to it that I make it so. What happened to Frank? It’s the funniest thing…one minute he was throwing me out on my butt, then haranguing me for packing my bags, then telling me I was a useless piece of trash that was lucky to have him – he was driving me nuts. I don’t know what made me do it, but I took that kaboodle and slammed him up-side the head so hard, he spun in a circle before dropping to his knees, you know, like one of them cartoon characters they show before the pictures. Something about seeing him on his knees infuriated me, but it also made me feel strong, powerful; like I didn’t have to take shit from anyone anymore. And you know what? It felt good. So good that as I snapped the lock closed on my suitcase and turned to leave, he looked up at me and I lost it. I balled up my fist real dramatic like, the same way my brothers used to so I’d know a beating was coming when we were kids. I balled up that hand so tight it ached with every punch I landed. I’ll give him credit; he stayed on his knees and took it. When my arm started to tire, I picked up the glass ashtray from my vanity and started to wail on him. I screamed at the top of my lungs while I bludgeoned him – probably more of my breath than he deserved, but I couldn’t help it.

The lady that lives downstairs from us in the boarding house started whacking the ceiling with a broom or a stick of some kind. That brought me back to my senses.

Lighting-up a Pall Mall, I sat down on the stool in front of my vanity, I didn’t care that there was blood on it. I’d earned that blood, and now as it soaked into my skirt, I gave zero shits and started to clean the spatter off my face.

Hair trussed, make-up fixed, and my cherry burned out, I got up, said my goodbye to Frank, picked up my suitcases, and headed out the door. Mrs. Schantslevky from downstairs was waiting for me in the stairwell.

“Sounds like it was a rough one today. You aright, honey? He didn’t beat ya too bad, did he?”

I glanced at her from three stairs up, “Nah, he won’t be laying a hand on me again. If you’re feelin’ generous, you might wanna call the doc. I don’t think he’s getting back up on his own. Ever.” I popped my gum, a hard gleam in my eyes.

She looked stunned. “You mean to tell me that it was you beatin’ on him this time?” Her consternation told me I’d done the right thing. When the neighbors start to set their clocks by your beating schedule, it’s time to go.

I turned to her as I walked out the front door and left her with a parting chance. “Hey. If you don’t want your man hitting on you anymore either, I’m setting up a place just on the other side of the tracks. Bring the kids, Billy’s face didn’t look too good the other day. Oh, and tell all the other ladies, too. Just ask for Red and you’ll find me. I’m going places, sister, and buried in this backyard ain’t one of them.”

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Fiction © Copyright Nina D’Arcangela
Image courtesy of Pixabay

More from Nina D’Arcangela:

Mental Ward: EXPERIMENTS

A dank basement, shadow filled hallways, the deep echo of a metal latch being thrown while faint screams are heard… These are the things you might experience in a place where the unspeakable happens, where conscientious action and moral turpitude turn a blind eye in the interest of advancing one’s own personal pursuits in the most deranged and unjustifiable manner. The type of place where power corrupts, and depravity runs rampant among those imbued with it. A place where the unfortunate are abandoned to the devices of those who convince themselves their actions are in the best interest of science.

Mental Ward: Experiments is a collection of ten short stories that demonstrate the worst of humanity’s ambition in the interest of ‘civilized’ advancement. Step into a world where sanity is left behind, and horror is what the doctor ordered!

Available on Amazon!