Candy Floss

chapter eight | pumpkin muffins

chapter eight | pumpkin muffins

Less of my time was being spent in the office. I decided that going to the theater wasn't so bad anymore. Honestly, it was more enjoyable than I originally thought it was going to be. Owen, of course, was a big part of the reason. And while he was rather nice to be around (and look at), I had other reasons why I liked to go to the theater. For one, I had more bonding time with my mom. While this did have its cons (numerous), I think it made her feel better and more involved in my life. Because of my love for dentistry, I was what people would call a "daddy's girl." Mom loved the dentistry field, she was their number one fan that actually wasn't interested in doing the actual job, but she wasn't as knowledgeable as my trained and educated father. So naturally, she wasn't such a huge part of my tween-teen life. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I didn't hold her to the same importance and I didn't look up to her like other little girls. I didn't care as much when I was younger, obviously, but I was beginning to see the light. I think my attempt was working out so far in showing that I appreciated her. It was her time to shine. Literally, because she wore a reflecting, metallic costume. It almost reminded me of tin foil or an alien/space suit.

"Have you ever been up on the catwalk?" Owen asked me.

I was no theater-geek, so I was unfamiliar with the terms and the setting. I shook my head. "No, what is it?"

The widest grin appeared on his face. It reminded me of Eunice when she figured out I wasn't up to date on the latest gossip. I usually didn't care how "juicy" the gossip was, but I was willing to sit there and listen to what she had to regurgitate, usually after tweaking and exaggerating a couple of (sometimes vital) facts. "You really haven't?" He was stunned.

"Nope."

"We'll have to change that, like, now."

"It's seriously not that big of a deal, Owen." Although, I was secretly excited that he was going to take me somewhere, even if it was only a couple of feet from our current location.

"No, it is."

"Okay. First, explain to me what the catwalk is."

I was picturing like a runway where cats, skinny and fat (my favorite), strutted up and down the stage in cute little outfits designed by people who had way too much time to kill. The thought amused me, bringing a smile to my face. It wasn't as happy as Owen's though. Then it occurred to me that I had put that upside-down frown on his face. That, all in its own, made me rivetingly elated.

"It's that platform above the stage where all the lights are."

"And how are we supposed to get all the way up there?"

A mischievous expression appeared on his face. "Follow me."

He led me through two rooms, all stuffed with props, furniture, and arbitrary things belonging to members of the cast. After jumping, sidestepping, and even climbing the barriers, Owen brought me to the edge of the room. A black, ladder was cemented to the wall, leading up who knows how far. "This is the path to the catwalk."
I looked up, the darkness and unknown lurking before me. "Good to know." I hope he wasn't expecting me to actually climb it. It was an "accident" waiting to happen. Maybe this was Owen's way of eliminating me from his life and everybody elses. "Are you trying to kill me?" I blurted, immediately feeling the regret sink in. I had no other option than to play it off as a joke. I laughed in spite of my terror.

"Yeah," he said, sarcastic dripping like sweet honey from his voice.

I continued laughing, only my tone changed to nervousness. "So, I've already seen it. We can go back now..."