Page 95 of Earth Girls are Easy… To Dominate
“Before you spend your future paycheck, how about this?” I drag her from the Contempo window to the display in front of The Limited. “This is what Jenny would do. See those pantsuits with the shoulder pads? I’d buy one of those with a pair of high-tops and take on Wall Street. I think the material girl movementis about money. When you work for your own money, nobody can put you in a cage.”
“Vomit-trocious,” Lisa says, crinkling her nose. “Your short frame would look like a football player’s little brother in one of those. And what would Jimmy say if you started dressing like Annie Lennox? He’s in that same crazy cult as your parents. He’s not going to allow his wife to work outside of the home or rock an androgenous look.”
Yeah, Jimmy. While Lisa and I have been friends since I fell off my bike in front of her house in the third grade, I’ve known Jimmy since kindergarten. It was always assumed that we would marry eventually, because we fought like cats when we were little. So when the prophet announced we were a match for temple marriage, suggested to him by God, my parents didn’t bat an eyelash. Mom thought it was God listening to her prayers. I don’t hate the guy, so I went along with it. Jimmy’s okay. We try our best to socialize at the temple dances and family events, but our camaraderie is forced. Could escaping from the marriage really be as easy as buying a navy blue pantsuit? It’s not that I want to infuriate Jimmy by dressing more modern than his mother or the other women in our church. The pantsuit represents my dream of working on Wall Street as the right-hand to some overstressed investment banker. Lisa may blow her paycheck on fingerless gloves, but I’m saving up to move into a high-rise apartment…but would Jimmy move with me? We’ve mentioned our dreams to one another, but we’re never alone long enough for me to share my vision. What if he rejects the idea? Do I have the guts to move to the city alone? Can I afford it?
“I want to buy new clothes when I feel like it—not just on payday. If Jimmy and I could have a two-income household, we wouldn’t live paycheck to paycheck. He will never see it my way…Lisa, what if I’m a terrible wife?”
“Look, Jenny, I know you secretly wish your godly match was someone else. You don’t have to say anything, a bestie knows,” she says, palm out so I won’t protest. My shoulders slump as I stare at the zigzag carpet. She’s right. Her arm loops us together again and tugs me toward the food court. “Just know I don’t want you to worry about me or our lease. I won’t blame you if you suddenly disappear.”
“We’ve talked about this a thousand times,” I whine. “There’s nowhere on Earth the prophet can’t see. He talks to God and my parents. I can’t just change my hair and bicycle to a new town to start over. That stuff only works in the movies.”
“Yeah, your parents would print your face on a milk carton on day one.”
“As they should,” I say with less conviction than usual. “They love me and want what’s best for me—including what will get me into heaven.”
“Well, I’d rather believe that heaven is a place on earth! Love comes first!” Lisa stops the conversation by singing the newest Belinda Carlisle song. Heaven is a place on earth if you believe the song that plays in every television commercial, mall store, and boombox.
“Your life does seem like heaven sometimes,” I murmur.
“You know you are always welcome at my church. You can still believe in heaven, God, and being a good person. We even read Bible passages between hymns.”
“I’ll think about it,” I say over my shoulder, stealing one last glimpse at the pantsuit. Why do I want a life that’s beneath what’s chosen for me? Maybe Lisa’s right, and I could have it all by worshiping in her church while I save up for my dream. My parents wouldn’t see it as rejecting salvation if I stayed in the Christian faith…right? Who am I kidding? It would break their hearts to know I’ll burn for eternity when their rapture comes.
Blasphemy.Or is it? If hell is beneath the zigzag carpet, why does my fate on earth feel like a prison sentence for some unknown transgression? Why can’t heaven be a place on earth for me? For all Lisa’s minor sins, she’s carefree and happy. She’s not locked into a temple marriage or berated for taking typing classes at the local community college.
“Hey, don’t look so sad. Perk up, or you won’t sell out of corndog sticks, and I’m counting on you to close up early. Once Hot Dog on a Stick runs out of sticks and closes, the other stalls will close early too. Johnny is taking me to see The Princess Bride tonight after his shift at Sbarro. I think tonight might be my big night to ask him to sleep over, so sell, sell, sell!”
“I’ll have my greasy shirt soaking before you get home, so you don’t have your romance spoiled by hotdog stench.”
“And sell those dogs!”
“Always,” I say, checking the rim of my hat for flyaways. I don’t hug her for fear of staining her blouse or sparkly happiness. “Because we’re just girls living in a material world.”
At least one of us is living in it. I can’t help the feeling that my life hasn’t begun, and won’t unless something changes. As I squeeze behind the corndog counter, my eyelids drift closed, and my fingers clasp the silver cross around my neck. I should pray, but for what? Please change my destiny? Please reconsider your plan because a meager, simple human doesn’t like it? I was taught sacrilegious statements like those would land me in hell. But what if I’m already there?
CHAPTER TWO
“Come on, Jenny, please,” Jimmy begs as I leave the mall through the staff exit.
“No,” I snap, swinging one of my two garbage bags at him. “I don’t care how your mother says I smell; I’m not quitting my job. It’s the only place at the mall with a flexible dress code.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t need to work. I’ll graduate this spring, and my dad has a spot on his crew. Just a few more months, and we’ll move into my parents’ house?—”
“Who decided that?” I whirl around to shoot my fiercest glare. A mouthful of hair escapes my bobby pins and slaps my cheeks, sticking to my flavored lip gloss. I want to bat it away, but I can’t risk the garbage on my hands getting into my mouth.
“Mom did,” he says, but the smile drops from his lips as he digests my reaction. “She knows how important it is for you to learn how to be a homemaker. She’s…taking…you…under her wing…”
“Under her wing? Over my dead body,” I sneer. I refuse to be her personal slave as she molds me into her likeness. She and I are like oil and water. How could Jimmy agree to us living with them without consulting me?
“Be reasonable,” he says, reaching for my shoulders. It’s petty, but I shove a trash bag between us, making his arms too short to touch me. “It’s better than being homeless until I graduate.”
“Better for who? I want to be independent and contribute equally to our household. My words per minute average is the highest in my typing class. My grades are on the dean's list every quarter. I think I could land a secretary job at one of the big firms.”
“Come on, Jenny,” he says with pity written across his features. “My mom already said that’s what we’re doing, so you’re putting me in a terrible position. Besides, women who pound the pavement in their shoulder pads are just hags who couldn’t land a husband. You’re too special for that. God says so.”
“Oh, bite me!” I yell with tears streaming down my face. The trash bag clocks him in the shin as I spin around to walk away. His howl of pain is music to my ears. I hate how ill-suited we are for each other and how Jimmy plays along with the charade because the prophet and his mother say it’s what’s best. Too bad my parents agree with them.
“It’s a compliment,” he shouts after me.
