Last time with Helene Troy: https://lancemyblogcanbeatupyourblog.wordpress.com/2011/09/29/3sand7s/ New Episode:
In the webbed pocket of her little black backpack, the duct taped repaired cell phone vibrated. Annoyed and emotional, Helene carelessly grabbed for the phone. She noticed the number and gasped, fumbling the phone out of her hands. It flew down the stoop, settling between a steel girder near the turnstiles. Helene panicked. She saw the phone open as it found it’s place. Ramona Gallery was on the other end. Helene dove to the ground, pushing her chest against the cold concrete.
Helene called helplessly into the dark crevice as she reached her hand through trash and dirt to pick it up.
“Hey dear, yeah, it’s me. Are you working? You sound really far away?
The hard, cold ground chilled her entire body. Yet, beads of sweat formed over her brows as she desperately tried to reach the phone.
“Uh, yeah, I mean, no, well, I’m on my way. I’m in the train station and it’s hard to hear. Can I call you in a few minutes?”
Helene stopped trying to grab the phone and moved her arms to her side so she could manuever the left side of her head closer to the phone. She looked like a seal sliding to catch a fish. Ramona continued.
“Can’t do it, Leney. I’m playing in Long Island tonight and tomorrow, but I’ll be back in the city for your show Friday at the Drunk Rhino. I only want to see my girl, though. I’m too old for drunk dudes and shitty cover acts. I know that’s bitchy, but I’ve earned my old lady crotchiness.”
Helene laughed. She was thankful for duct tape and a good phone speaker.
“Oh my God Ramona, you’re not old. I don’t want to hang around drunk guys and shit bands either. I can’t wait to see you. Afterward, you want to go to The White Room across the street and drink some beers?”
Her head was wedged almost inside the area between the girder and the stairs. Ramona answered.
“Honey, I’ll call you. That sounds a hell of awesome maybe. Get a new phone. This is the 21st century. Well someone told me it was. Go catch your train. Bye Leney.
Helene reached into of her little black backpack and took out a white t-shirt. She balled it up and used it to fish out the phone. Then, t-shirt smudged with black filth, she wiped the side of her face and her phone.
“I can’t believe Ramona fucking Gallery is going to see me play!” She shouted. Helene got onthe train and sat next to a black and white poster of the New York skyline. It looked like the glamorous city she daydreamed about growing up in Pennsylvania. In the moment,Helene Troy couldn’t stop smiling.
This is a new story episode of the novella I’m writing about a female rock musician named Helene Troy. The rest of the story so far is here: https://lancemyblogcanbeatupyourblog.wordpress.com/the-ballad-of-helene-troy/
This is also my answer to my Indie Ink Challenge of “black and white” from LiLu: http://diamondsmadeofglass.blogspot.com/ and http://www.indieink.org/writing-challenges/ I challenged the superhero Supermaren – http://supermaren.com/ eith “blue skies and palomino ponies”
I’m also guest posting over at vie’s place. My 7 yr old got a great review from first grade today. She’s a writer like dad. I wrote about that.: http://t.co/7bZyEQ8M
Today’s song is one of the few Gwen Stefani things I associate with. This was 16 yrsago when she was still that spunky ska chick from Anaheim who wore pants and sports bra and jumped around a lot. I imagine this song playing a lot around the women I live with as they go about their lives not needing a dude for anything except me, of course. This song just ran through my head as I wrote Helene’s next scene. Here’s No Doubt and pre Hollaback Girl Gwen with Just A Girl.