Drawing by Judith Wolfe

EDWARD GAY

Erika goes Shopping

Erika pulled on a dress. Her mother had given it to her over thirty years ago. A dress that had never really fitted her. A dress that hung from her wiry body like a collection of sacks sewn together. The dress that she saved for town. Erika slipped into her worn lipstick pink heels and stepped outside.
Town was only a bus trip away. A short ride to the shops, and if there was any money left over, perhaps tea and cake at the coffee shop afterwards. Town held everything for Erika; it was the source of all mystery. It was the place where everything could be brought for a price.
Erika strolled down her narrow suburban street and seated herself at the bus stop. She was a full five minutes early, she was always at least five minutes early. She hated to be late.
Erika sat and watched the traffic drive past in a mad rush. Everyone always seemed to be in a mad rush these days, as if anything could ever be that important, important enough to continually risk life and limb. Erika waited for eight minutes; the bus was late.
Erika boarded the bus to see the same tired old faces of every week. She made a point of greeting each one with a smile, though she did not know their names.
"Hello, good morning, hello there, oh - I haven't seen you for a while...
She received no answer.
Erika took her seat towards the front, a great seat to view the streets from. She loved this trip. It meant she was on her way to town. Firstly, the bus would wind its way out of her neighbourhood. She would view the children all dressed neatly in their uniforms and off to school.
Then she would be taken through the more up-market neighbourhood. The flash cars parked on the side of the street. The beautiful big old houses, that stood like giants, on their very own sections. Sometimes Erika enjoyed the bus trip more than actually being in town, especially when she had little money.
Finally Erika had arrived in town. She stepped out of the bus after thanking the driver profusely.
"Thank-you very much, Driver."
"O.K Lady, have a nice day."
He never seems at all happy.
All around her was a mass of people; they swarmed like flies around her abandoned rubbish on a public holiday. The crowds annoyed her; they disturbed her. All those people crowded into such a small area, and all at the one time. Sometimes it all got a bit much and she'd have to temporarily stop her shopping to sit in the reserve for a breather.
Sitting in the reserve this morning, Erika watched the young pre-schoolers being pushed on swings by their proud and adoring mothers. She watched pre-schoolers being led around the plastic play-frame by loving and caring mothers. Why did she never have children? Because she never really had a husband. Never a real husband.
Erika stood to continue her shopping. First the super-market and then the hardware store. She had to remember to pick up a mop head, she had meant to do that last week. In the supermarket, Erika was surrounded by yet more mothers with their children. They seemed to show them off like trophies, like a fashion accessory - a handbag, a hat, and at least one child.
Erika found the 'spreads' isle and picked out her favourite brand and flavour of marmalade. 'Rick's Orange and lime'. Not too sweet and not too tart, it went perfect with a cup of tea. Which reminded her, she must buy tea. Erika placed the marmalade in her plastic shopping basket and headed to the 'refreshments isle,' to pick out her brand of tea, the one that the lovely young horse rider advertised on the television set.
Moving into the queue, Erika found herself, as she did every week, able to go through the express lane. She joined the businessmen and women on their lunch-break. They were such a strange lot. Erika couldn't figure them out. They moved like dumb animals, placing their products on the counter, extracting their wallet or purse from a concealed jacket pocket, peeling out a note and placing it alongside their product. Not a word said during the entire procedure. Erika read the nametag pinned on the checkout girl's blouse, she looked as though she should still be in school- especially in this day and age. The nametag read 'Hello, my name is Jessica'.
"Good afternoon, Jessica." Erika said, and shone the young girl a friendly smile.
Jessica responded with knotted eyebrows as if she should be able to recognise Erika.
Erika increased the strength of her smile, attempting to diffuse the uncomfortable situation. She paid for her goods and left with them in a plastic bag.
With the tea and marmalade out of the way, Erika had only one more purchase to make. The mop head. It was rather a shame really, as she enjoyed her shopping so much. Inside the hardware store stood a burley old man wearing a faded woollen jersey that advertised a brand of power drills. "Good afternoon Sir, I am looking for a mop head that will fit a 'Washing Wanda mop.' Do you have any in stock?" And she shone the man a polite smile.
"Ooh, I'll take a peep Ma'am, but I ain't seen one ov 'em for 'ears." He did not smile back.
The man disappeared down an aisle and returned with a whole new mop.
"Fraid they ain't been making those for 'ears now. But can I interest you 'n this. Great mop, do the job perfick." The man shone her a quick smile as he presented En'ka with the new mop.
"Oh, I see. I wasn't planning on buying a whole new mop, well let me see... " Erika paused to think about her purchase.
"They ain't been making dem in 'ears, Ma-am. Not the Washin Wanda.
"Well, I guess I have no choice." Erika didn't have a choice. The kitchen and bathroom needed a thorough good mopping, and the old mop simply could no longer do the job.
"I'll put it in a bag, shall I Ma-am?" The man continued. He gave her another brief smile.
"Alright, yes thank you Sir. And may I have half a dozen mop heads to fit the same brand?"
"Certainly, Ma'am." The old man gave his brief smile.
Erika dug deep in her purse to find the roll of notes that she had counted for the last five weeks. She was careful to extract two twenties from the roll inside her handbag. She felt so uncomfortable carrying around that amount of cash, yet she wasn't going to leave it in the house. You never knew these days.
Erika handed her money to the old man and received her package in return. The old man gave her a brief smile as she politely thanked him.
Leaving the store, Erika headed straight to the bus stop. She felt guilty about touching her savings. Well, the cake shop would have to be missed today. It would be pure idleness to spend one's savings on cake.
The bus stop was very nearly deserted. A young adolescent stood there with his skateboard. Erika, a little nervous, took her seat inside the shelter.
Erika looked at the young fellow standing in front of her. Young people never seemed to wear clothes that fitted them, they could never quite dress themselves, they always wore clothes at least four sizes too large. Erika couldn't understand why. Was it that for some reason they were ashamed of their body shape?
Finally the bus came. The young man pushed ahead of Erika to be first on. Erika boarded the bus, paid her fare, and smiled at the familiar faces; nodding to each individually.
She took her scat near the front. The ride home was never as exciting as the journey to town. It was different, not in that it was the same trip but backwards; it was more than that. No, the whole trip seemed different. It held no mystery.
The trip home lacked all romance and finally she was at her stop. She had one thing to look forward to and that was to try out the new mop. The new mop. Erika walked home with her head held high. She was suddenly extremely happy. She held the mop like a soldier clasped his gun on parade. All the way home she watched for people to notice her. Erika and her new mop. For a whole four blocks she immersed herself in the pride of her solo ceremony.
Perhaps there would be something in the mail?
But there was nothing new in the mailbox but the same old advertisements and there was certainly no parcel waiting on the doorstep for her. There was to be nothing new, nor exciting.
Waiting for her at the gate was the neighbour's tabby tomcat who bore the unoriginal name of Tiger.
"Hello Tiger," Erika sang as she opened the gate to let Tiger and herself through. "How has your day been?"
The cat, understandably, made no reply. He simply fol-lowed her up the overgrown garden path to patiently wait for the front door to be opened.
Erika opened the door and Tiger shot between her legs straight into the living area where he hoped to find a welcome lap. But the lap had not formed; it busied itself in the kitchen.
"I must put my shopping away before cuddles Tiger. I can't very well leave it lying across the bench."
Erika entered the immaculately clean laundry and placed the mop and spare mop heads in a garden tools cupboard. She looked forward to using that the next day. Something to look forward to after breakfast. She hurried back to the kitchen to pack away the last of the shopping.
Erika opened the cupboard above the sink. The first two shelves were piled high with packets of tea, all of the same brand and size. It was possible to follow the development of the companies marketing department. Erika placed the tea in the little space left. She opened a cupboard to the left where 'Rick's lime and orange' stood neatly stacked as it had in the super-market.
Tiger waited passively asleep on the armchair.
"Now Tiger, I only have three hours until the nice woman from meals on wheels arrives."
She lifted Tiger and placed him on her lap. She stroked his head and scratched his chin until he stopped purring, finally dozing off to sleep.
The sun had begun to go down. Tiger was fast asleep. Erika mechanically stroked his back as she watched the sun go down through the living room window.

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