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Community

By: Tara_Neale



Nanny's house was a small, two bedrooms, wooden framed one near a cotton mill. She and my great-grandfather had worked at the mill. Back in those days, the companies felt it was best to have workers that lived near the mills. They built what was called mill villages, dozens and hundreds of basic houses near their plants. Then they sold them to the workers, taking mortgage payments out of their paycheck each week. The South is dotted with the remnants of these kinder, gentler days.

By the time that I came along, few of the residents still worked in the mill. Most were retired or like my great grandfather dead of cancer from the chemicals that the mill used to process the cotton. I can still remember the acrid smell of the tiny creek that wound its way along the back of the mill. 

All of the neighbors were friends of my Nanny, old women and men, who remembered the Great Depression and leaner times. There were no children to play with, except for the grand-daughters of the couple across the street. But the Church girls were snobbish. They reminded me of Nellie Olsen from the Little House on the Prairie television show. Eventually, a family with four sons moved into a rental house when the original owner died or moved away. But they were boys and more suited to play with my younger brother than me and my Barbie's. 

My best friends were Nanny's peers: Miss Ethel, Mrs. McCall, Aunt Mildred and Nana Tattley. From them, I learned to sew, crochet and make apple butter. I sat fascinated at their feet as they told horrific stories of loss and life. I watched soap operas and the Watergate Trials with them. I can still hear Aunt Mildred's voice ring out...Terri Lynn. It may sound like an unusual childhood, but it was not a bad one.

Miss Ethel was the precursor to the modern woman. While the other women wore simple cotton house dresses as they were called, Miss Ethel donned tight polyester pants suits, things that my mother would wear. She was several years, perhaps a decade younger than Nanny. While Nanny's body had long since gone soft with chicken wings that I would flap while watching television and breasts that when not confined by a bra would sag like empty balloons to her navel, Miss Ethel was still a handsome woman. 

And a brazen one as well, from the moment that the late spring sun began to heat the day to a comfortable temperature, she could be found on the folding chair in her back yard...sometimes in a bikini. She spent many hours in those warm months basking in the sun. Enough that her tan would last virtually the whole winter long. It was a vanity that was to eventually cost her life. She died a couple of years before Nanny of skin cancer. But even with the pain of end stage melanoma, I am not certain that she would have traded her tans for a few more years.

Her hair was never allowed to go grey or white. Instead she dyed it a platinum blond and faithfully kept her weekly appointment at the hair dressers, which just so happened to be the chicken shit yellow linoleum floored kitchen of my house. She would come over after dinner. Nanny would boil water and the smells of instant coffee, cigarette smoke and peroxide would mix like a cherished family recipe. I would sit under the ugly green and yellow table that would fetch a pretty penny today as art deco or retro. I played quietly with my Barbie's as I listened to these women reminisce of days gone by. 

As Nanny would color or curl Miss Ethel's hair, they would talk, laugh and poot. You see women; especially Southern women of this era were too delicate to fart or even to pass wind. They pooted. These women would without a word of warning or apology lift a butt cheek off of the sticky plastic seat and for lack of a more delicate word...let it fly. They did not even stop their conversation. The sound and smell were simply punctuations marks of life. What a simple and amazing sign of community, this acceptance of the most basic of human bodily functions.

I have often wondered how two such different women became such good friends. My Nanny with her strict manner and common sense approach to life. Her drab grey hair, soft curves and smell of baby powder was so very different from this larger than life woman. Besides the obvious of being next door neighbors, there must have been something else.

I think part of it might have been their husbands. My great grandfather Mr. Clyde as he was called had died before even my mother was born. He had left my Nanny a widow in her early forties with a teenage son and a wild as sin daughter that was about to enter her turbulent teens without benefit of a strong father. It was a recipe for disaster, even then. 

I remember little of Mr. Willy. He died suddenly, a heart attack I think. I was quite young, although I remember bits and pieces of neighbors collecting at the house, bringing food and support to Miss Ethel. But then again, I attended so many funerals as a child that they all seem to run together. What little I can piece together of this man was in keeping with the pictures I saw of my great grandfather. He was thin with short grey hair and an easy smile. And he adored his unusual wife...worshipped would perhaps be a better word.

It is often hard for us to imagine our parents or our grandparents as sexual beings with needs, desires and love like our own. But not when you saw Mr. Willy look at his wife or the way he said...Yes, Ethel to anything she wanted. Some might see it as hen peeked or pussy whipped, but it was mutual. A love between equals...something that our modern divorce rates say we have failed to comprehend or capture.

In those days, weeks and months after Mr. Willy passed as we so eloquently called death; Miss Ethel became an almost nightly fixture in our kitchen. The cigarette smoke added another layer of yellow to the walls as these women shared the pain of loss. I do not remember all of their stories, but I will never forget the strength, love and companionship of those nights. 

There is one story that I do remember. I hold it close to my heart. For me it epitomizes these people, their lives and the sense of community that I have never found again. It is a story of a particularly hard winter during the Great Depression.

Money was always hard to come by for these working class people, but the Great Depression brought with it a lack and hunger that even they found worrisome. That winter there was very little money to be found. Priorities were paying the mortgage, keeping fires burning to warm their children at night and at least one meal a day. But sometimes even those three simple needs were more than they had money to fulfill. 

That winter though one of them had planted a simple vegetable garden with potatoes and onions. The other owned a couple of old hens, enough to ensure a daily supply of three to four eggs each day. These two strong women, who worked long hours in the cotton mill for next to no pay, would come home in time to make dinner of fried potatoes and onions with scrambled eggs. They would stretch their simple feast to feed two husbands, three children and themselves. And on payday they would celebrate with lard and flour enough to add biscuits to their fair. 

Occasionally when one of the hens stopped laying eggs they would ring its neck. They told me of how you had to swing it very fast to break the neck quickly and not inflict too much pain on the animal. It may seem brutal, but it was a necessity of life in those days. And if you could have heard them talk of it, you would realize the respect for life that they had...even a chicken's life that had kept their children alive during the worst of times. 

Those occasions were 'high eatin' as they would say. A lying chicken was much too tough meat to bake or fry, so they threw it into a pot with some of the onions and potatoes. Sometimes they would even trade a neighbor, a chicken leg for some carrots to sweeten the stew. That Sunday after church the two families would truly have something to give thanks for. And Monday evening they would thin the leftovers with more water and have chicken soup.

Today, we live in times that are for many of us almost as trying as those days. But most of us must navigate these times alone. Of course, we have things they never dreamt of...unemployment, food stamps and social security. Perhaps for a time these social safety nets may even soften our falls. But the sense of community that lead these women to share what little they had is not common sight in our modern world. 

Instead we hold fast to what little we have. Mine is our mantra. If we have onions and potatoes, we hold tight to them, afraid our children will go hungry if we do not. If we have eggs, it is the same story. We forget that scrambled eggs taste better with fried potatoes and onions. That by keeping what's ours we are limiting the nutritional value...one child has protein, the other vitamins from fresh vegetables. 

But together we could have had a complete meal. That is what community is...something that is more than the sum of its parts...making a complete meal out of a couple of onions, potatoes and eggs. Having more together than you would have had apart.

Community College Experience



Authors note:

This is a story based on Community. It takes place just after Episode 15 of Series 2 and contains spoilers. Both the actresses and the characters in the story are over 18. 

*

Britta Perry was the worst. She was the absolute worst.

She had heard that before from people who didn't know what they were talking about, people who would not be named like Jeff Winger, but rarely had she thought it herself. This though, this was one of those times.

The thing with Paige was bad enough. It would have been one thing if everyone in Greendale had seen her kissing a lesbian. That would have been mortifying. Not for the act itself but because it would have gone in the spank bank of half a dozen perverted guys, and maybe some open-minded girls or even some lesbians, the latter of which would have been slightly ok. But at least that would have been liberating, Britta rebelling against the system and making a statement that her sexuality wasn't something that had to be dictated to her, but something she could make her own decisions on. Even if it didn't go any further than a kiss it would be something Britta could scratch off her bucket list, forever giving her a memory she could be proud of.

Of course, that's not how it happened. Paige was straight, and just using Britta to seem open-minded and cool, and then had the nerve to claim Britta was doing the same thing. Homophobe. That's what Paige was. And she was just trying to hide it by hanging out with Britta.

That revelation and her first lesbian kiss being an awkward mess in front of dozens of perverted strangers would have made this the worst Valentine's Day ever and would have sent Britta down a shame spiral, but that was nothing on what happened next.

Just then Britta heard a knock at her door, "Britta... open up... please... I, I need to talk to you."

Britta froze as her good friend Annie Edison, who she had no attraction whatsoever too, ok, kept continuously pleading with her through the door, pausing only to knock repeatedly on the hard wood. She was the last person Britta wanted to speak to right now, and would maybe prefer to never speak to her again, but if there was one thing Britta knew about Annie was that the brunette didn't give up without a long, drawn-out fight. Actually she literally knew that. And while it made her even more horrible, Britta didn't want Annie to say anything about what happened tonight, not where other people could hear. Not that Annie would do it to be mean or vindictive, but sometimes she said things without meaning too. It was a trade they unfortunately shared.

So after a few minutes standing frozen and praying to a God she didn't believe in to grant her a miracle Britta unlocked her door and opened it, immediately coming face-to-face with a pair of big Bambi eyes. Those eyes caused her to lose her train of thought, Annie quickly capitalising by asking, "Can, can I come in? Please? I really, really need to talk to you."

Britta opened her mouth to firmly say no.

To tell Annie she needed some space.

Some time to think.

"I... erm, sure."

Damn those Bambi eyes!

Not giving Britta a chance to change her mind Annie gently but firmly pushed her way past the blonde and took a look around. It wasn't exactly a welcoming environment, but it had it's charm. Sort of. Which actually made it very... Britta.

Speaking, or thinking, of her friend Annie turned around and locked eyes with Britta, the two of them staring at each other for a long moment. Then Britta slowly opened her mouth, obviously still unsure what to say.

Feeling very strongly that she should go first Annie blurted out, "Shirley was in the bathroom!"

There was a pause, then Britta blinked, "What?"

"Shirley was in the bathroom, when we, you know." Annie quickly clarified, before continuing for a while without taking a breath, "Troy and Abed had left the room to deal with a 'personal issue' and Jeff wasn't there because he needed some space or whatever after he insulted the Bare Naked Ladies in front of us and I'm still not sure where Pierce is and I'm kind of worried but I'm almost 100% positive that he left before we kissed so no one in the Study Group saw and the people I was asking about Pierce didn't seem to care so I don't think anyone will find out and if they do, we can deny it because it's not like there's any proof or anything."

For a few seconds all that could be heard was Annie's slightly deeper breathing than usual, then Britta simply mumbled, "Oh... ok."

There was more silence then Annie said, "I, I thought you'd like to know that no one saw us kiss."

Britta snorted, "Like I care."

"Then why did you run away?" Annie asked, sounding and looking confused.

It was impossible to resist, all Britta could do was desperately try to deflect, "I, I was running. I just remembered I, I left the stove on?"

Britta didn't sound at all convincing but even if she had Annie wouldn't have believed her, "No you didn't."

"No, I didn't." Britta sighed, once again desperately trying to think of something to say before finally blurting out, "Look Annie, I'm not gay."

Annie frowned, "Then why did you kiss Paige?"

"I, I didn't. She kissed me." Britta stammered unconvincingly, not that pausing for a couple of seconds before hand helped, so inevitably she sighed and said, "Fine, I did it for the experience, ok?"

"Oh... ok..." Annie frowned again, "But... I thought you said you'd had a lesbian experience before?"

"I have. Lots of times." Britta said indignantly, hoping that if she got defensive it would cover the fact that she was lying. It seemed to work, however it had an unfortunate side effect.

"Sooooo, you're bi?" Annie asked.

"No." Britta said.

"Oh." Annie frowned, genuinely sounding confused, "So you're not bi, you just... like having sex with women. And men."

There was a long pause as those big Bambi eyes stared deep into Britta's soul, demanding the truth from her, demanding her to give up her street cred and admit when it came to lesbianism she was completely clueless. Well nice try evil Bambi eyes, Britta wasn't going to fall for it.

"Fine, yes, yeah, whatever, I'm bi." Britta lied without thinking it through then quickly added, "Please don't tell Jeff. Or Pierce, or Shirley, or Troy, or Abed, in fact don't tell anyone but especially not Jeff freaking Winger."

Annie's eyes lit up at Britta's confession and continued to get brighter until the end of the blonde's little speech. Then Annie moved forward and beamed, "Of course Britta, your secret is safe with me. I promise I won't say a word."

For a few seconds Annie stood there right in front of Britta with a huge smile on her face, then she let out a big, "Awwww."

The next thing Britta knew she was being tightly squeezed, Annie wrapping her arms around her so fast she barely saw it. Immediately she tensed up but after a few seconds went limp in Annie's soft embrace. Annie gave great hugs, she'd always thought that.

"Thank you Britta." Annie beamed, "Thank you for trusting me with your secret."

"Don't mention it." Britta said, before adding jokingly, "Seriously, like never ever."

A few seconds passed by as the two women just enjoyed the hug, then Annie pulled back to look Britta in the eye and frowned, "Sooooo, you ran away when I kissed you because you were afraid everyone would see, even though no one was watching... but you kissed Paige when you thought everyone was watching? Including Pierce?"

Britta's brain struggled for a answer to that contradiction and ultimately came up with, "Yes... well... with Paige I, I got caught up in the moment, and then it turned out she wasn't gay or even bi, and Pierce was out of his mind so it really didn't seem to matter. But you, you're the baby of our group. What would people think?"

"I'm not a baby!" Annie said indignantly.

"No, but..." Britta said, cursing herself for putting her foot in her mouth again.

"But what? I'm too young to know what I want? Too young to..." Annie trailed off, not really wanting to say anything else, but of course she couldn't stop herself confessing a fear which had been running through her mind since... well, ever, "Or, am I not good enough?"

"No Annie..." Britta started, although she wasn't sure where she was going with this.

"Not pretty enough?" Annie offered.

"God no." Britta snorted, genuinely finding the idea absurd.

"What then?" Annie aggressively demanded, "What?"

"I, I-" Britta stammered.

"Was kissing me really that bad?" Annie accused.

"No!" Britta said.

"Then why did you run away?" Annie whined.

"I told you I-" Britta started, but quickly stopped herself, "I mean you're my friend. The first real girlfriend, girl-who's-a-friend, that I've ever had. I didn't want to screw that up. I don't want to screw that up."

"Well running away from me didn't help Britta." Annie huffed, "You should have stayed and talked to me."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm the worst." Britta sighed in defeat, adding before Annie could try and disagree with the last statement, "But we can talk now, if you want? Or do each other's hair, or whatever you want."

Annie paused and during those words, inwardly wondering whether Britta meant it. Probably not, but she promised herself she wasn't leaving here until she given it the old college try. Or should that be old community college try? Was there such a thing?

It didn't matter, she was getting off track and Britta did see it which was embarrassing, Annie quickly blurting out, "W, whatever I want? Erm, I... well, I, I was thinking, that is... was Paige like, a booty call? Like, you were in the mood for a lady, or did you really like her? Because honestly you two kind of seemed awkward together. Like one of you was trying to force it or something... which I guess makes sense because she was. And I guess you are kind of a weird flirt-."

"Am not." Britta huffed.

"Are too." Annie huffed back, cutting Britta off before they can get lost in a childish back and forth, "Answer the question Britta?"

"What question?" Britta asked, genuinely confused by Annie's ramblings.

"Were you looking for a relationship with Paige or did you just want to... do it with her." Annie blurted out, adorably censoring herself at the end.

Even as she was taken aback by the question Britta found herself smiling momentarily. That smile confused her almost as much as the question and Britta found herself blurting out, "Erm, I... the second one, I guess. I mean, you know how it is, sex can lead to a relationship and all, but honestly I... I just wanted to bang her. I was so totally going too. I was going to just... bang her all night long. Super disappointing, but hey, whatever. Story of my life."

Britta felt she did a good job of covering her slipup and making it sound like she really was going to bang Paige. Which she would have, given the chance. Totally. It was just that... oh, Annie was talking again, "It, it... it doesn't have to be."

Britta frowned, "What do you mean Annie?"

There was another pause, Annie using those Disney eyes again to trick Britta into a false sense of security before in one breath yammering, "You were hoping to get sex from Paige but she was straight and maybe wanted to experiment but chickened out or whatever I'm not really sure, the point is you guys aren't going to have sex or probably even talk to each other ever again, right?

"Right..." Britta frowned, "What's your point?"

"My point is, is... you could have sex with me!" Annie blurted out, then continuously interrupting the baffled Britta, "That way you can still have sex with a girl, and I can have one of those essential college experience thingies. I mean, everyone knows that's what girls doing college, and I don't want to be left out, you know? Not that it was the first thing on my list or anything. That was meet new and interesting people. Then socialise more, then try new things, which kinds of loops back to this but I wanted to do other things first like dating a musician, take part in a protest, get in a fight, and see a guy's thing. And touch it. And, and I'm running out of things to tick off Britta."

"I get that Annie, I really do." Britta said, finally getting a word in, "And I'm all for you casting off the shackles of male oppression and discovering things for yourself. But I can't be the one who helps you do it."

"But it has to be you." Annie insisted, again interrupting Britta before she could say anything, "I'm not like you Britta. I can't just flirt with some girl and see if she flirts back. I can barely do that with guys, and I... I just can't do that with a girl. I just can't and I don't want to try. And I can't even imagine having sex with a girl I don't know. I, I just can't do it. But... if it was somebody I knew, somebody I trusted, it would be ok. Of course, they'd have to know what they're doing, because I... well, I've been told I'm not very good, you know, in bed. That's why it has to be you. You're experienced and worldly, and I trust you but we're not so super close that it would be weird. Well, not unbearably weird. I mean let's face it, after what happened tonight it's going to be weird between us for at least a few weeks no matter what so we might as well really earn the weirdness."

There was deafening silence for a few seconds and then Britta stammered, "Annie, I-"

"Don't say I'm the baby of the Study Group! I'm not a baby!" Annie whined, "I'm 19. I can have sex with whoever I want. It's allowed. And you're only 10 years older. That's barely even a thing, and it hasn't stopped Jeff from having these really weird exchanges with me which may or may not be something. And before you say that's just gross Jeff Winger being gross Jeff Winger it's not like I haven't had those exchanges before, most notably with you, and don't stand there and tell me I'm crazy, I'm not. And as for our friendship it's more likely to end if you don't have sex with me, because then this weird awkwardness between us might never ever go away and I might start resenting you without meaning too and, and... I don't want to lose you either Britta. That's why we need to have sex, so we can put this behind us and move on."

There was a deafening silence, Britta having no idea what to say even as Annie slowly approached her.

"I swear, I'll never mention it to anyone. Not even you. It'll be like tonight never, ever happened. I'll even deny kissing you, and leave right after, if that's what you want. Just please Britta, don't let me miss out on this essential college experience." Annie pleaded, intentionally using her big Bambi eyes more than ever before, "Please Britta, I... I already told you, it has to be you. I need you. Please... help me?"

Annie allowed her question to hang in the air for a few long seconds, although she had no intention of allowing Britta to answer it. The older girl was clearly still on the fence about all this, and left to her own devices sooner or later Britta would reject her for one reason or another, which would lead to the blonde kicking her out or more talking, and Annie was very tired of talking.

Annie didn't want to talk, she wanted to act. She was scared in more ways than one, but that kind of made it more exhilarating and Annie hadn't thought that was even possible under the circumstances.

So, her heart pounding in her chest, Annie waited until she was sure Britta was lost in thought, then she swiftly leaned in and pressed her lips to another woman's for only the second time in her whole entire life.

It was just like the first time, Britta tensing for a few long seconds before returning the kiss, their lips cautiously caressing each other's at first but slowly becoming increasingly relaxed until they became lost in it. Or at least Annie became completely lost in it. She still wasn't entirely sure she was any good at kissing, and kissing a girl was different, definitely a good different, but Annie didn't know if she was supposed to do different things when kissing girls or not. Hopefully she could ask Britta. Later. Right now Annie just wanted to enjoy the softness which was Britta Perry's lips.

The irony was of course that Britta was just as clueless as Annie. Just as worried she was doing this wrong. Not that there wasn't plenty wrong with this really, really messed up situation, but Britta's mind was too clouded to dwell on that right now. Too focused on the kiss. Her second ever real kiss with a girl.

Technically it was her third but Britta wasn't sure the first one really counted. It'd been so awkward. Ten times more awkward than this kiss, which was really saying something. Because... if Britta was to be really honest with herself, she hadn't really wanted to kiss Paige. She hadn't really wanted Paige. She hadn't liked her, she had liked the idea of her. But Annie... sweet, naive, beautiful Annie... oh God help Britta she wanted her. She wanted Annie. She wanted to kiss Annie. She wanted to... she wanted to do bad things to Annie. Britta wanted to do bad, naughty, dirty, forbidden, bad, bad, bad things to Annie, which once again proved she was the worst. Oh God Britta was so the worst.

It didn't really make the situation better, or Britta any less the worst, but she hadn't started this. Britta wasn't the one who kissed Annie last time, she didn't do it this time, and she didn't talk her way into Annie's home and throw herself at the brunette. No, that was all Annie. Also she wasn't the one who slid her tongue over Annie's lips requesting entry. Britta didn't even grant it, not really. Britta just opened her mouth because she was gasping in surprise and Annie took advantage, and once their tongues were touching it would have been rude not to return the gentle caress, so Britta wasn't totally to blame here.

Of course thinking about this caused Britta to realise something that hadn't even occurred to her till now. Perhaps it should have done, because suddenly it seemed so obvious given the evidence, yet it completely left Britta dumbfounded. Annie... Annie wanted her. Like... really wanted her. Like physically. Annie wanted a girl but it didn't feel like she was just settling for Britta because the brunette was really, really getting into this, first kissing Britta slow and passionately and then eventually fast and needy when their tongues were brought into the mix. It was all Britta could do to keep up, the blonde pretty much letting the 'innocent' girl have her way with her.

The kiss seemed to last forever, certainly much longer than any kiss either girl had ever had before, and when it finally ended they just quickly found themselves in another. And another, and another, and another. Neither girl was sure how long that went on for, or when their arms wrapped around each other, or when their hands started to wander, or when they started to move towards Britta's bedroom. All they knew was one minute they were kissing and the next they were falling with Annie landing on top of Britta, the two Greendale students gasping softly as they became very aware of their bodies pressing against each other in all the right places.

Or maybe it was all the wrong places, Britta wasn't sure. All she knew was that Annie was staring at her with an indescribable look on her face, several long seconds ticking by before huskily whispering, "Please Britta, help me."

Annie had never looked or sounded more grown-up or sexy than in that moment and it melted Britta's insides and caused her to suddenly flipped them so she was on top, the blonde desperately trying to restrain herself from devouring the brunette on the spot.

After several long seconds Britta softly whispered, "Just this once."

Even though she had seen Annie smile all the time, often over the smallest things, Britta had never seen the younger girl look so happy, joy practically radiating off the beaming brunette as one simple phrase escaped her lips, "Yay."