Five Dollars

I need five to get the rent paid. It had to be somewhere. I stand in the middle of the room thinking. How could I only be short five bucks? I was sure it was in my pocket when I went to bed. The landlord will not care if I’m only five short. I have to find it. If I pay the rent late, it will cost another thirty. My so-called-husband won’t care.

I yank the bedding off the bed and toss the pillows on the floor with the sheets. Nothing in the bedding or under it. Mark came into the room as I threw stuff out of the closet.  

“What are you doing?” Mark stood in the doorway, unable to come inside without stepping on something. I turned the room upside down looking for the money. 

“I need to find the five I had in my pants pocket, to pay the rent. Have you seen it?” I faced him holding a pillowcase in my hand.

“Oh, yeah.” He picked up a pillow at his feet and tossed it on the bed. “I wanted a beer last night. I’ll pay you back.” 

“But the rent is due today!” I wondered if I could get away with murder. But since we’ve been together for a year, I would be the first suspect in his death. This happened last month too. He always takes the rent money and spends it. We are always behind on bills. This was the month we were going to catch up. 

“We can pay it tomorrow,” he shrugged, “it’s only thirty more.” 

“Ahh!” I pushed past him. 

In the living room, I pulled the cushions off the couch. It gave me thirty cents, but this little apartment had to have more. I ignored him when Mark told me to stop. I jerked his arm away and stepped into the kitchen. We kept a jar next to the sink holding a bunch of small objects. I dump it out and find a dollar in change. Getting closer. 

“Please, honey.” Mark set his hands on my shoulders. “We can pay the rent tomorrow. You don’t need to do this.” 

“No, the rent is getting paid today. Even if I have to go out and search for change on the sidewalk. I won’t pay the rent late one more month.” I push him aside as I see a dime by the front door. 

I know there was change in the car. Maybe a dollar or more. But I was in my pj’s still. I stomped into our bedroom with Mark following me. I stumble over the bedding as I make my way to the dresser. My pants' pockets might have money in them. If I’m lucky, I’ll find a few bucks. 

Mark continues to talk to me as I dress, but I wave him off. He gets paid tomorrow. We’ll have the money and more than. That money I planned to use for other bills and going to the store. We need milk and butter. I also wanted to get a novel that just came out, but if I didn’t find a few more dollars I won’t be able to do that.

After searching every pocket in my dresser, I found a penny. Maybe Mark was right, I would not find five dollars in change. And we would again pay the rent late. 

“We’ll get it paid tomorrow. The money will come out of my check, not yours. Don’t worry about it.” 

It’s the same line he told me every month. Last time we were short by one hundred. I was determined this month we would pay it on time. I watched our budget carefully, and I was sure when I woke this morning we would pay the rent today. I should have taken the five I got from tips and put it in my bank account. But I worked late last night and too tired to put the money in there. I had to get my own account because Mark would blow through it all. 

I grabbed the keys on the kitchen island and ran out the door before Mark could stop me. I knew there was change in the car. I only needed three dollars and fifty-nine cents. Mark picked up fast food at least three times a week. There had to be enough change in there. 

I glanced behind me before climbing into the car. Mark hadn’t followed me. He must be sitting on the couch and channel surfing. Something he did every Wednesday, on his day off. 

Ninety cents in the cupholder. Another fifty cents found scattered on the passenger side floor. But nothing else. It wasn’t enough. I closed my eyes and leaned back on the headrest. I could search Mark’s pockets for change. He must have something on him. But would it be enough? He used that five for a beer, he wasn’t going to have over two dollars in change.

I open my eyes and look at myself in the rear-view mirror. I haven’t brushed my hair; it was arranged in such a way that I looked crazy. Maybe I was, I was searching everywhere for a few bucks. And I was thinking of searching my husband too. I used to not be this way. Before we met, I would spend my money on clothing, pricey food, and tons of books. I used to buy twenty books a month. Now I’d be lucky to get one. Mark always spent the money I earned. Most of the time he would borrow it, and promise to pay me back. Or he would just steal it. He never returned the money to me, always taking never giving. This had to stop.

I push the key into the ignition and turn the car on. As I pull out, I look to our apartment door. Mark hadn’t come out. I didn’t know where I was going, but I wasn’t coming back.