Bitter Betty's Last Barbecue

She challenged the Fire to a smokehouse marathon.

She licked the honey mustard off a wing.

She started at dawn.

She started again at six.

She went through two packs before the eggs got scrambled.

She saw her friend Didi walk by and stopped her to talk about the guy down the block who got caught scamming people in Indonesian call centers out of their life savings.

She asked Didi for a cig, and admitted that quitting would have to wait until after the marathon.

She took a look at the thighs and thought she should have tried something new for the occasion.

She recalled someone saying that ostrich had its moments.

She mentally felt herself sticking to her guns.

She had been smoking the same way all her life.

She said a prayer of thanks to her father for teaching her how.

She thought about the way he’d let a Marlboro dangle from his lips while he checked out a loin.

She felt her mind flash to the day he had a coronary standing by the carousel with her when she was just six-years-old.

She heard the kids at school mocking her daddy for dying without being baptized.

She knew he’d been baptized in smoke, and when Fire came to pay its respects, she spit on it over and over again until her aunts pulled her away.

She noticed the smile on Fire’s face when the spit evaporated.

She promised herself that one day she’d make the challenge and that she’d win.

She sprays the meat with a liquid concoction that smells like vinegar and strawberry brine.

She goes inside the house and makes love to the dishwasher repair guy that’s been staying with her.

She turns down his offer to pilfer a dishwasher for her since she doesn’t believe in doing dishes.

She demonstrates what she means by pulling a dirty dish from the kitchen sink and holding it down by her knees until her dog Sweet Pete comes along and licks it clean.

She takes a rag from off the counter, wipes the plate down, and puts it back in the cupboard.

She sees the look of disgust and amazement on the repair man’s face and she knows he won’t make it to the end of the marathon, and that’s fine by her.

She tries to come up with a number for how many men have slept on her pull-out, but in her mind, it’s all one man with a bad memory and a blurry face.

She goes back outside and checks on the ribs.

She sees Fire across the street lighting her neighbor Lindy’s Turkish Gold and she wanted to yell out that fraternizing with the locals was strictly prohibited since the neighbors would be judging the contest, but she decided against it.

She knew that if she lost, there was a steep cost.

She began to demand her own focus.

She took a harder look at the drumsticks.

She added more rub and sprinkled some coriander on the lamb.

She began to wonder if the butcher had any ostrich.

She saw the repairman sneak out the side door holding a plastic bag full of who knew what, but if she had to guess, it was probably some of the painkillers from her upstairs medicine cabinet.

She called Didi on her cell and asked her to come over with some unchopped garlic.

She waited fifteen minutes even though Didi lived two houses down.

She made a mental note to make more friends who knew how to hustle.

She saw Didi and instantly regretted venting about her even silently.

She admired the garlic Didi had selected from her own supply.

She and Didi shared another cig.

She called Lindy and told her to come over and promise not to vote for Fire.

She felt her jaw click when Lindy said that she had to remain impartial and hung up the phone.

She immediately stopped feeling guilty for shacking up with Lindy’s husband ten years earlier.

She began thinking about how she was gonna plate the meat.

She saw the neighbors lining up by her fence.

She felt a touch of scald on the back of her neck and knew that Fire was nearby.

She smelled the stench of burning copper and a siren played in her right ear.

She scoffed as Fire carried in a platter the size of a tractor filled to the brim with all kinds of what she knew must be exotic meat.

She saw what looked like a hyena’s leg and the ear of a warthog and there was jackfruit as garnish and Hawaiian onions and Mongolian butter drenched all over everything.

She felt herself begin to salivate, and she felt as though she was betraying herself and her father.

She began taking her meat off the grill and placing it on the platter that had been passed down from generation to generation in her family starting with her great-great-great grandfather who had been known for marrying nuns and robbing handkerchief barons.

She saw the neighbors survey both platters.

She knew that the rules allowed them to try as many pieces from either tray as they liked, but she also knew that most of them had small stomachs and wouldn’t be able to consume more than two or three pieces before voting.

She saw Didi, her loyal friend, grab two drumsticks and a loin from her platter, and she swore that if Didi ever needed a kidney, she would give it gladly.

She saw Lindy take a big hunk of shoulder and an even bigger hunk of leg from Fire’s platter and one single tiny wing from hers, and she wished that she’d married Lindy’s ex when he asked her instead of turning him down only to have him get hit by that cereal truck the following year and pass away instantly.

She saw each neighbor grab their selections and gnash thoughtfully until both trays were empty and the smoke was beginning to give way to evening atmosphere and streetlight mosquito bites.

She heard Lindy clap to get everyone’s attention.

She heard her announce the vote.

She knew the ballots had been handed out that morning.

She saw pens being passed around and choices being made.

She noticed that nobody would meet her eye.

She saw all the ballots being handed down to Didi and that made her feel better.

She knew everybody trusted Didi even though Didi was her best friend.

She saw Didi do the count, and when it was over, she watched as Didi gave the butcher the ballots to do a confirmation count, but she couldn’t tell by her expression if she was happy or sad.

She saw the butcher finish his count, and then hand the ballots back to Didi.

She heard Didi clear her throat, but she thought she was hearing things when her best friend announced that Fire had won the smokehouse marathon.

She looked down and saw that her hands had already begun turning into wings.

She felt her legs crisp and crack.

She tasted vinegar and brine in her mouth.

She heard Fire congratulate her on a solid attempt.

She heard Lindy run a knife over another knife to sharpen it.

She heard a brief pause, and then she heard Didi do the same.

She didn’t blame Didi.

She didn’t blame any of the neighbors as they began to cut up and consume her.

She knew that she must be delicious.

She always had a feeling she would be.