Day 008
Carter leaned over the counter of the laundromat on 85th and Terrace, a place simply called The LaundroKing. He had sleepy eyes from the constant back and forth of breaking night and sleeping through the day. He was all forms of backwards, eating cereal at midnight and ham sandwiches at dawn. The weird hours caught up to him in strange ways: black undereye circles and softened limbs. He wasn’t frail thin the way Dean was, standing in front of him, counting out change on the peeling beige laminate, but he was thin enough with a button baby nose and eyelashes that settled nicely.
He watched Dean’s long spider fingers go through the nickels and dimes, eyes squinting trying to count along with him. There were too many coins on the table for him to even comprehend. Carter was too lazy to count it himself, Dean could lie to him and he would take it at face value.
In fact, that went for all things.
“That should be enough for a packet of soap.” Dean spoke quietly. He always did. It sounded like something scratching through the darkness. Carter gave him a smile in return and pulled out a packet of powder soap and a packet of liquid fabric softener, he slid them both across the counter and shrugged.
“I think it’s enough for some softener too.”
“You think?” Dean’s grin was crooked, sort of like his fingers. They seemed like they had been broken a few times, cut and bruised and arching away from one another in strange places. Not mangled, just used. Overused.
“”Buy one get one free sale tonight to our lucky 100th customer.”
“I’m the only customer I’ve seen in here all night,” Dean turned around, as if to show off the empty laundromat and the televisions that were showing whatever Carter wanted them to because no one else was around to watch. Repeated games from English Soccer clubs on cable, slow motioning goals over and over again.
“Buy one get one free sale tonight to our lucky 100th customer…Ever,” Carter amended with a grin of his own. He pulled back at full height from the counter, but he still was slouched into himself. He had a jersey on that matched the ones that were running around on the screen and a pair of long shorts that grazed his knees, socks and a pair of shelltop sneakers that had kicked up enough dirt to make it seem he had never been a customer at the LaundroKing in his life.
“If you say so, Carter.” Dean took both packets and gave a little nod. “But, could you hook a guy up with some dryer sheets too?”