Author: jdavis

By Jeannie Yee Davis

Summer is my favorite time of year. Summers meant the leisure life, no homework, sleeping in, watching all the TV I wanted, and wondering what my school friends were doing. The summer I turned fourteen ended my summers of leisure. One night, a week after my fourteenth birthday, my mother called me away from the TV set and told me to get dressed. I was baffled, where would we be going at 8 o’clock in the evening? I obediently got dressed and followed her. On the way down the twilight street, I asked her where we were going, and she replied that we were going to my job interview. I panicked at the prospect of what was forthcoming. I wasn’t ready to go to work. I didn’t want to go to work. I just wanted to enjoy my summer like I always did. My stomach knotted up inside me. I didn’t want to go to this job interview, but I knew I had no choice. I tried asking her more questions about this job, but she declined to answer and told me I’d know soon enough.

We headed down to Grant Avenue in Chinatown and walked into a large gift shop that smelled of incense, and in the background, I heard wind chimes softly chiming. I saw a couple of young girls about my age, in different color happy coats, one dusting and the other replacing merchandise on the shelves and a middle-aged woman ringing up a customer at the cash register. When we entered, the tall frizzy-haired woman looked up at us, smiled, and then gestured she’d be with us in a minute. Once the customer left, she came over to us and introduced herself as Mrs. Ja and indicated that the man walking out from the stock room was her husband, Mr. Ja. My mother and Mrs. Ja did all the talking while Mr. Ja and I looked on. Mrs. Ja told my mother I’d be working forty hours a week during the summer, and during the school year, I would work twenty hours a week, and I start work tomorrow. I tried not to be obvious, but I felt my eyes pop out of their sockets, and I silently gasped when I heard this. Right then, I lost my summer.

The next day my mother escorted me down to the gift shop where I would be spending the rest of my summer. My mother and I walked in silence. Once we arrived at the shop, Mrs. Ja smiled warmly and told my mother to come back for me at 6 o’clock. I followed Mrs. Ja into the closet, where she instructed me to hang my belongings on a wall hook and handed me a bright yellow happy coat. I looked around to see if there were other color choices, but the alternatives were bright orange, navy blue, or forest green. Yuck! The yellow didn’t seem so bad after all. I reluctantly put on the happy coat over the blouse and slacks I was wearing and followed her back into the store.

She introduced me to the two girls on my shift. Suki, who wore glasses, was tanned and a head shorter than me. She had long black hair flowing down her back over her orange happy coat. She reminded me of Halloween. Donna was pale and about my height with a short pageboy haircut and wearing a green happy coat. She made me think of a forest that never got sunlight. Mrs. Ja said to ask these girls for help if she wasn’t around then she took me through the store and showed me where everything was. I felt my heart beat faster as she gave me more and more information. How was I ever going to remember all this?

First, there were all the different T-shirts, kimonos, Mandarin coats, and slippers. How they were displayed and where the stock was stored. Part of my job was to iron the kimonos before I hung them on display. Next came the backroom tour where I would do the ironing. What if I burned something? I thought but was too afraid to ask. This backroom was scary, being lit by a single uncovered light bulb that stuck out of the wall right over the ironing board. There were no windows; instead, there were boxes stacked on top of each other on one side, and on the opposite side where the ironing board stood was the bathroom, a water cooler, the garbage cans, and a small square table parked against the wall next to the bathroom with a couple of chairs.

After the tour of the clothing items, she showed me the dolls, brassware, tea sets, plastic figurines, silk figurines, incense, onyx chess boards, hand-painted eggshells, and the display cases of Taiwan jade, ivory and costume jewelry. Next came the lesson on how I was to showcase these items to the customers. My happy coat, a loose-fitting cotton jacket with mandarin collar, ornately embroidered buttons down the front, and big baggy three-quarter sleeves looked lovely but was not practical. Especially when the display counter was almost too high for my height, those loose sleeves repeatedly knocked over the stands of costume jewelry that sat on the counter surface. Whenever I brought out a tray from inside the display case for the customer to view, my sleeve would run into one of the stands on the surface. Mrs. Ja wasn’t pleased with this as she kept grabbing the stand as soon as it began to tip over.

Once Mrs. Ja showed me all she could with the jewelry, she began to teach me how to use the cash register, followed by how I should count the change back to the customer. I was self-conscious, knowing she was watching my every move, and I had trouble counting the money, which didn’t please her. Eventually, I did well enough for us to move on to the next thing on her list.

The next thing on Mrs. Ja’s agenda was to take me downstairs, where the stock was stored. I thought the back room was scary, but that was nothing compared to this basement storage. The basement was humungous. It was dark, stuffy, spooky, and secluded with no outside sources of light or air. A single wall switch turned on a light bulb dangling from the ceiling at the bottom of the stairs. We made our way through the basement maze, where Mrs. Ja drummed into me the importance of remembering where the lights were. A pull on a string activated each light. Mrs. Ja instructed me to make sure I turned off the lights when I leave. This basement housed rows of wooden shelves with brown cardboard boxes everywhere. She started telling me where what was stored and if I needed to check on the stock to come down here and go to the respective locations and look for them. I nodded in acknowledgment, but as soon as she told me where something was, I had already forgotten what she said.

Mrs. Ja explained so many things to me; my mind began to wilt. I fooled myself into believing this was just an introduction and relaxed, thinking all I had to do was listen. But little did I expect her to have me perform the tasks she had spent the morning teaching me. I was racking my brain, trying to recall everything she taught me, but I soon realized I would have to just do the best I could. She observed my every move and corrected me immediately when I didn’t do something exactly as she had instructed. I was afraid to make a move without first searching her face for approval. Things improved for me as I did more and got more practice, and I started to feel pretty good about what I was doing.

Suddenly, a large group of tourists came into the store, and every worker was busy helping the customers, so I was forced to assist the customers by myself. I felt good when I was able to answer the first customer’s question correctly. Things fell into place as long as I kept calm. I realized this was something I could do after all.  

When a customer asked for a pair of slippers in size 8, I looked under the counter, but the size 8 box was empty. I told the customer I would go downstairs, find a pair for her, and ran off to the basement.  

When I reached for the light switch, I noticed the light was on. At the bottom of the stairs, I looked around, but I didn’t see anybody. I paused and listened but didn’t hear anything, so I headed for the aisle where the clothing was stored. I got a little turned around because everything looked the same. I was trying to hurry and get out of there before someone accidentally turned off the lights while I was still there.  

Eventually, I found the box with the slippers, and after going through many boxes, I found a pair of size 8. I was elated. I quickly put everything away and ran back towards the stairs. Once I was sure of the path to the stairs, I started turning off the lights, and then I ran towards the next light. I kept doing this until I made my way back upstairs. I was pleased I had successfully taken care of the customer’s need and made it through the basement storage maze.  

I was smiling big until I saw Mr. Ja walk through the basement door red in the face glaring at me. The smile fell off my face when I realized what I had done—I turned the basement lights off, leaving him to feel his way out of the darkness. He didn’t say a word to me, and I didn’t know what to say to him, so I didn’t. I kept busy and eagerly awaited 6 o’clock to come when I could go home.

Previously published in e-clips.

   by Jeannie Yee Davis

He eyed me for so long

But my eyes to someone else they belonged.

Still his fondness for me over the years, in his eyes I see

But my eyes to someone else they still belonged.

After seeing his lovely smile so sincere it makes me go wild.

His eyes filled with devotion that is genuine

I realize my heart he can easily win.

Finally, my heart he has won for his smile was the key

And now my eyes see only he

But it’s my turn for misery.

He no longer wants me

I guess I took too long and he now knows that

My eyes to someone else they belonged.

Previously published in Expressions of the Heart.

by Jeannie Yee Davis

Pam’s heart faltered when she saw ‘Return to sender – not at this address’ and she knew it was over. She stood in her hallway motionless except for the tears trickling down her cheeks. Memories, so carefully suppressed, now flashed through her mind. 

It had been two years since his phone message, “Hello Pam. It’s Wayne. Listen, we need to get together. Call me.”

Since then, she had picked up the phone a thousand times, but each time dropped it back into the cradle. One night, she glanced at her clock. ‘It’s 10:30. Maybe he won’t pick up.’ Her heart quivered as she sucked another deep breath and dialed. His voicemail came on. “Hi, Wayne. It’s me. Sorry I didn’t call sooner. Been busy. I’ll call you when things calm down.” She was hyperventilating and hung up with her heart pulsating in her temples.

Pam lifted the hand-painted lid of the wooden keepsake box to put Wayne’s card inside. Then she saw the 4×6 glossy of him staring at her with his dimpled smile. She gingerly picked it up. Beneath it was the pressed mauve baby rose he gave her. She took it out smiling as tears welled up; spilling down her cheeks remembering the fateful day they met.

Pam greeted the passengers as they entered the threshold of the 757 headed for Singapore. “Hello” she said as he boarded. He glanced at her with a thin smile. Her eyes involuntarily followed him to his seat. ‘There goes one sad puppy,’ she thought. He was handsome in a demure way. His short wavy brown hair accentuated his strong cheekbones, his dimples and his dreamy eyes.  

“More coffee?” she asked pampering him a bit. She noticed his manner softening, but her heart sank when she saw him staring and trying to catch her eyes a little too often. “Oh great! He thinks I’m after him!” Like a scared rabbit, she began to avoid him, busying herself with her flight attendant tasks. ‘He’s not giving up,’ she thought, but when their eyes met her heartbeat doubled. A slight smile crept across her mouth, and she felt her face grow hot. 

She was stocking the beverage cart in the service station when she felt someone approach. He peeked around the corner and asked, “How long is your layover in Singapore?”

“Overnight, why?”

“How about dinner with me then?”

She bit her lip and paused. “Why not? I’m staying at the Pan Pacific. Pick me up at eight.” 

“Great. My name is Wayne.”

“I know. I looked at the roster. I’m Pam,” she said, giggling.  

* * *

Pam’s long blond hair hung in waves down her back, and the simple black sheath she wore couldn’t hide her curvy figure. She was staring in the mirror putting on her earrings when the phone rang. ‘What am I doing?’ She wondered with a pang of guilt. ‘I’m a married woman.’ 

“Hi, I’m downstairs.” ‘Hmmm, nice voice.’

When Pam stepped off the elevator, she saw Wayne anew. He was gallant in his black leather jacket, his skin tan against the black dress shirt. Blue jeans hugged his muscular legs and his black western boots added an all-American flair.

“You look great,” he said, taking her elbow and guiding her toward the hotel bar. After a few drinks and the usual small talk, the truth came out. His marriage of fourteen years had ended badly. He was starved for affection. Pam reached across the table and put her hand over his. “I understand.”

She thought about her husband, Michael. Theirs had been a loving marriage until after the second miscarriage. He was uncharacteristically silent during the drive home from the hospital that night. 

“I’m sorry about our baby,” she said, reaching for his hand, but he jerked it away.

She looked at him in stunned dismay. “What’s wrong?” Her empty womb ached as much as her heart.

“Don’t you remember what you said when we were dating?” he asked, a sneer creasing his face. “You said you didn’t want children, remember that?”

“Yes, but I…”

“You got your wish,” he interrupted.

“I’m sorry I ever said that because I…” he held up his hand to silence her. After that they were mere housemates. Three years was an unbearable eternity in an empty relationship. 

* * *

One evening she came home as Michael walked down the stairs with the old warmth in his eyes and a smile she remembered well. He helped her with her coat, and he said, “You’re radiant! I’d forgotten how beautiful you are.” 

Then he slipped his arms around her and kissed her. It felt like rain after a brittle drought.

The following months were bliss. “Okay Hon, I got you down,” she jotted Michael down in her organizer. 

“Hello, Wayne. Ah ha, got it. I’ll see you there.” She noted her date with him. 

She was living a dream that was destined to become a nightmare. 

“There you are! I’ve missed you,” he said, extending his open arms.

* * *

Returning from an overseas flight, she took a last look in the mirror checking her teeth for lipstick and fluffing her hair before heading through the gangway. She straightened her dark blue uniform as her eyes swept the concourse for Wayne. 

“I’ve missed you, too.” She smiled as she stepped into his kiss and felt the odd sensation of eyes upon them. Michael stood with a bouquet of white roses, and a look of anguish on his pale face. 

“Michael!” she cried turning toward him, but he tossed the roses on the floor and walked away. She grabbed the flowers and pursued him, but with her suitcase she didn’t catch up with him until she got home. He was pouring a stiff Scotch when she walked in. She stood, head bowed, waiting for him to speak. His silence forced her to speak first.

“I’m sorry, Michael.” Her voice trembled. More silence. “Please, talk to me!”

“What should I say? I can’t believe what I saw out there,” he said, pacing the floor. Dark circles hugged his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, Michael. I . . .”

“Is this why you’ve been oh-so-happy lately?” He asked. “How long have you been screwing him?”

She winced at the remark. It was so much more. It had kept her alive. “About a year,” she replied, slumping to the couch. “I couldn’t stand the loneliness anymore…the way you looked at me…the silence. I couldn’t stand feeling ugly…feeling unloved.” Tears flowed down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I never meant for it to happen – it just did.”

He swigged the rest of his drink and turned toward the stairs. She raced after him and saw him jerk a suitcase from the closet and start packing.

“Michael, what are you doing? Stop. Let’s talk.”

“Talk? Too late for that, I’m gone. You can have your little boyfriend.”

“Please stop! Forgive me. I won’t ever see him again. I promise. Will you stop a minute? Please…stop!”

“I could forgive you for almost anything but this,” he said, stuffing t-shirts into his bag.

She begged and pleaded and finally, solemnly packed her own bags and left alone. It was his house. She languished for weeks at a travel inn, staying in bed till noon, crying herself to sleep each night. Finally, one morning as she looked at her swollen face in the bathroom mirror, she knew she needed to do something. That day she gave two weeks notice and moved to a small apartment in Grants Pass, a cozy resort she had visited a few years earlier and remembered the way it welcomed her. It felt like home.

* * *

Two years had passed when the card came back in the mail bringing the painful string of memories with it. She knew if she had it to do all over again, she wouldn’t. Michael was the love of her life. When she left Wayne at the airport that day, she never looked back. He was just a diversion – a nice diversion, nothing more. But she regretted that she had hurt him and now, she needed to ask his forgiveness, set things right. She dialed his cell. 

“Hello?”

“Happy belated birthday,” she said.

“You remembered.” ‘He sounded great.’

“I sent you a birthday card, but it was returned.”

“Sorry, I moved,” he said. “So, what have you been up to?”

“Actually, I’m a travel columnist at The Voice Magazine now.”

“That’s a big change. How did that happen?”

“When I moved here to Grants Pass, I heard about a columnist position opened at The Voice Magazine, so I called for an interview. I lucked out.” 

“Well, that’s a surprise,” he said. “I didn’t know you were into writing.”

“I majored in journalism.”

“That’s great.”

“Thanks. Listen Wayne, the reason for my call is to ask your forgiveness.”

“For what?”

“I’ve been blaming you for ruining my marriage. It wasn’t your fault…”

“It was ‘both’ our faults,” he said.

“I’m not calling to get back together…”

“I know. It hurt when you left but you forced me to put my life into perspective. Now I have Joyce. We’re very happy together.”

“I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks. I’ve got to go. Call me sometime?”

“Definitely, bye.”

* * *

The snow gleamed white under an azure sky and stray snowflakes drifted from the wide branches of towering lodge pole pines. Pam stamped her heel and her ski boot snapped into place. She was already exhausted, and she hadn’t even gotten to the bunny slopes for her first lesson. She kept losing her balance and stepping on her skis. She lost her footing and could feel them going out from under her. “Whooooooooa” she hollered as she slid on the snow. She turned sideways to slow herself down but over-corrected and lost her balance, tumbling backward and landing right on top of another skier. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, straightening her cap which had slipped over one eye. “I lost control. Are you okay?” she asked turning her head to see her victim who was bent over still trying to get up. “I didn’t mean to fall on you.” She said straining to get in a position to push herself up with her poles.

“I’m fine.” The voice was familiar. “You okay?” he asked slipping his arms around her waist from behind and pulling her upright.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Pam, sighed. “I’m really sorry.” He was brushing snow off her back. “Thanks for coming to my rescue.” 

“No problem, it happens to all of us.”

She turned her head to look into her rescuer’s face. “Michael, I can’t believe it! What are you doing here?”

“Pam? It is you! I thought I recognized that voice.” His brown eyes were wide with wonder. “Skiing with friends. What about you? Since when do you ski?”

“Does it look like I ski?” she asked chuckling. Her cheeks were rosy, and her hazel eyes sparkled. “Today’s going to be my first lesson – if I live through it. I’m on assignment.”

“For what?”

“I’m a travel reporter now.”

“Really? That’s perfect for you – you’ve seen the world. You look good…even if you are a little wet,” he laughed as he brushed snow off her shoulder. 

“You, too.” She laughed as she brushed a snowflake that clung to his eyebrow. 

The touch of their bodies produced an electric spark. Pam broke the silence, “Listen, Michael, when we separated…” 

Michael placed his finger over her mouth, “Shhh. What say we just move on?” Michael’s smile still had that contagious effect on her. She smiled back at him noticing the glow in his eyes. Then she felt a blush creep over her face, her heart began to flutter, and she could feel her skis sliding out from under her again. He grabbed her arm to steady her. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Just lightheaded.”

He grinned, lifting her chin with his thumb, and said, “Maybe I should keep an eye on you, so you don’t fall into someone else.”

“Don’t worry. Falling into you is enough.”

Previously published in Long Story Short, e-clips & Applecart.

By Jeannie Yee Davis

“Please, daddy, let me take the school bus by myself,” the young girl begged. “I can do it. I know I can.”

“I don’t know, Peggy,” her father said.

“You let Becky go to school by herself every day. She doesn’t need you to take her.” It was the first day of kindergarten. Peggy wanted to prove she could do what her ten-year-old sister could do. The slender child with blond pigtails and bangs wanted to be accepted by her older sister. She wanted her sister to see that she wasn’t a baby anymore and was able to do things on her own just like she does.

“Now sweet pea, are you sure you are ready to do this?” he asked.

“Yes, daddy, I know I can” came her response. Goosebumps formed on her forearms as she said this. She crinkled her nose deep in thought for a moment remembering how much she wanted to be accepted by Becky. “Yes, I’m sure,” she said, as she stood taller.

“Okay then, Peggy, you can take the bus to kindergarten. I’ll wait for you at the school, okay?” said her daddy who was squatting down to meet her. She nodded in agreement while she played with his well-kept beard just as the bus came around the corner.

The orange school bus was partially full with chattering kids. As soon as the bus driver opened the door, the kids filed on board. The driver hollered out while he adjusted his side mirror, “Come on board kids don’t dawdle now. We don’t have all day.” Then he turned and saw Peggy standing there looking at him.

“Well, hello there little lady,” said the bus driver with the thick salt and pepper mustache that hid his upper lip. He wore a green baseball cap pulled down just above his eyebrows bushy like his mustache. His cheeks jiggled with every chomp of his gum. 

“Hi, Mr. Bus Driver,” said Peggy.

“Just call me Bob.”

“Hi, Bob.”

 “What’s your name, little lady?”

“My name is Peggy.”

“Peggy is a pretty name. I haven’t seen you on this bus before. Are you joining us today?”

“I’m going to kindergarten. Today is my first day.”

“Well, what do you know? Come on board and find yourself a seat.”

Peggy turned to her daddy and waved. Bob hollered out to him, “Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll take good care of her.” Her father saluted him.  

She got on the bus and found a seat at the third row by the window on the sidewalk side. She sat down then jumped up to wave at her daddy outside the window watching him waving back at her as the bus pulled away.

The youngster felt all grown up sitting in her bus seat. She wondered what Becky would say tonight when she hears how courageous her sister was today taking the school bus all by herself. She imagined Becky accepting her as a buddy. A smile formed on Peggy’s face the more she thought about this then the bus stopped and her smile fell off her face. Her heart began beating faster. “Are we there already? No! We can’t be there already?” She jumped up to look out the window for her daddy but he wasn’t there. There was no school either. There were only houses. To Peggy’s relief, the bus driver was just picking up more kids.

The small child sat back in her seat trying to act all grown up. Moments later, the bus slowed down and pulled over. Peggy jumped up to see where they were. They arrived at a school this time but only some of the kids got off the bus. “What do I do? Do I get off here too?” Her eyes opened wide as she watched the kids get off the bus. Her lips quivered. She looked out the window for her daddy’s familiar face. He wasn’t there. Before she could decide what to do, the bus began to move. She fell back down in her seat hoping that wasn’t her stop.

The bus slowed down once again and pulled over. More kids got off the bus. Peggy jumped up to see another school. She didn’t expect the bus to stop anywhere else except at her destination. “Is this my school?” She asked herself as her big round eyes looked left and right for her daddy in the small crowd outside the bus stop. “No daddy! Daddy said he’d be here waiting for me. He’s not here. Is he late? Is this not my school?”  

The tiny girl shrank back into her seat fighting back the intense desire to cry. She didn’t want the kids to make fun of her. The bus started up again. She took one last look out the window but still no daddy. Peggy sat down in her seat crossed her little fingers and bit down on her lip hoping she wasn’t supposed to get off the bus at that last stop.

She considered what Becky would do in this situation. “Becky is all grown up,” she thought, “and she wouldn’t cry so I’m not going to cry either. She would sit calmly on the bus until she saw daddy then she would get off the bus so that’s what I’m going to do too.” Peggy smiled and began enjoying her grown-up solo ride again.

Peggy glanced around at the other kids on the bus and noticed boys and girls of different sizes. At first, she thought all these kids were going to kindergarten too but now she realized some of them must have already gone to school. That’s why they knew when to get off. She couldn’t wait until she would be like them and know when to get off the bus. She smiled with anticipation.

Just then the bus slowed down again and pulled over. Peggy looked out the window and this time there was her father standing outside the bus waiting for her. She jumped up from her seat and quickly got off the bus. 

“Bye, Bob,” she said.

“Bye, Peggy, see you later. You have a good day at kindergarten.”

“Okay, I will.”

She ran to her father and jumped into his opened arms tingling from the excitement of her first grown-up adventure. “Daddy, I did it!  I did it!”

Previously published in e-clips.