Holding On

~ • Chapter 5 • ~ An Abundance of Blushes

When I Was ten, my mother took me to an amusement park a few miles out of the city.

I wore a pink NY Yankees hat, even though I didn't watch baseball, and a jean jacket. I was given a stuffed bear at a balloon popping game because I didn't hit one single balloon, and I cried so hard the skinny boy working the booth felt bad for me. Mom bought me funnel cake. I threw up on the Tilt-A-Whirl - I demanded to be let on, despite my mother's warnings - because of the funnel cake. So mom bought me a t-shirt with Hannah Montana's face on it, and we sang to the radio and laughed about nothing all the way back to our little apartment.

This morning, while I walked to the Campbell house for my third day of work - only twenty-seven more to go - I passed McKinley Road, where three large, muscly men were pulling a blank, cream-colored sheet down from a sign. When uncovered, it read: Local County Fair, and, henceforth, triggered this memory. I felt a dull ache in my stomach, and so I continued on. It was raining - not pouring, but enough to dampen my hair - and the thought of that night kept nagging at my brain. Get out Get out Get out.

Ironically, it was the good memories that were hardest to deal with. The bad ones came with a stabbing ache of their own, but these were worse. Not because it hurt to remember, but because it hurt to realize, and accept, that there would never be any more. At the time, I'd considered them as fleeting and unimportant as anything else, so I made no effort to make them all the more significant. Instead, I could only remember them as they had been - fun, warm, and far, far too short. And they would always be that way; no do-over's, no second chances.

Needless to say, I was having a hard time dealing with the whole 'acceptance' thing.

I kept trying to push them memories back. Millions of them seemed to be flying at my face every waking moment. I would see a girl I used to go to school with; I would pass the hair salon where my mother always took me to get a trim on my long, straight blonde locks; I'd see a restaurant the three of us had gone to on the rare occasion we actually had dinner as a family; I would spot the little ice cream stand my mother took me to after a dance recital when I was obsessed with frilly tutu's in second grade. There were so many reminders, smiles, hellos, places, people, that I just wanted to lock myself away in a dark room and sleep forever. I wouldn't have to ever come out. No one could ever make me come out.

"-so, it's pretty simple. Got it?"

I snapped my head forward and met eyes with Josh, who was looking expectant. Crap, I hadn't meant to zone out. "Um, I'm sorry... what?" I asked, squinting.

He tapped his fingers on the register, chewing his lower lip. He had always pushed past any frustration when we were younger, and I guess old habits die hard. "Are you feeling okay?" he asked, placing a free hand on his hip. "You're kind of out of it this morning."

"I'm fine," I lied.

"Fine?"

"Yeah," I said, forcing a smile that probably turned out to be more of a grimace. "Fine."

He looked at me for a minute, his eyes slightly narrowed and scrutinizing. He sighed and licked his lips, glancing at the ground. "Fine," he surrendered, appeasing me. He didn't believe me, I knew, but he let it go.

"So, what I said was that you just have to handle the register, count the change and everything - sometimes Jenna doesn't, just because she's lazy about it, and we end up short. You greet people politely, and ask if there's anything they need help with. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

Josh was teaching me how to man the store. It was all pretty simple, I guess, but I hadn't been able to focus much on anything this morning, so I was having a bit of trouble. Josh had been patient, even though this was the third time he had to repeat himself, and was very deliberate and to the point. "You ask if they need help. If they say yes, you help them, and they pay you and you wait for the next customer." Jenna had been there for a quick ten minutes when I'd first arrived, and her instructions had gone something like this: "Okay, so you stand here and wait for somebody. Here's someone now and - ohmygod look at her skirt! She is way too old for leopard print - How may we help you today, ma'am? Aisle three, next to the shaving cream. Have a nice day, and shop again at your local convince store, The Shop-and-Save! Ohmygod did you see her skirt?"