𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙀𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝘾𝙧𝙖𝙙𝙡𝙚 [discontinued]

Chapter Eighteen

"Dad, I don't want to stand around in the sun all day!"

Carren folded her arms and sank down to the floor, her lips pouted in her stubborn pose.

"The school says you have to do it, sweetie." Dad reasoned with her. "Besides, it's good because we can sell off the things you don't need to other children who really want them."

"I don't have anything I don't need!" She whined.

Dad patted her head. "I'm sure you can find something if you look around, dear," he said. "I'll help you put up your stall, see if I can find an umbrella so that you don't have to stand in the sun. How's that?"

Carren's features slightly twisted into submission. "Well.. I suppose I could.. but only because you are insisting, Dad!"

Dad chuckled, "Alright, then, I'll be outside."

He turned to me. "Lucy, dear?"

Now that I look back on it, I would have been perfectly fine sitting on the corner of the room, pretend-marrying my dolls. But Dad had other ideas.

Poor, little, innocent, six year old me looked up. "Yes, Daddy?"

"Would you help your sister find stuff she can sell for her yard sale?"

"Sure!" I agreed, oblivious to the forthcoming outcomes.

"What?" Carren cried. "I don't want her to help me-"

"Don't be mean, Carren," Dad cut her off. "Let your sister help you."

"Fine, you can make the For Sale signs."

"Yay!" I squealed, excitedly.

As Dad left the room Carren sighed heavily, and started scattering things all over the room. Meanwhile, she handed me a wooden box, on which she began dumping stuff with enthusiam: old magazines she never read, stuffed animals she no longer found intersting, party costumes she despised to wear, and an old jigsaw puzzle with a few pieces missing.

"I- can't... hold any.. longer," I groaned, staggering under the weight of the box. It slipped out of my arms and thudded to the floor.

"Great going, Lucy," Carren rolled her eyes at me. Suddenly, her features rearranged themselves into a mischevious smile.

"Hey, do you want to earn money?" She asked me.

● ● ●

"Ah, there you girls are!"

Dad was waiting for us in the lawn. I had always been in awe of how different my father looked when he was out of uniform. Today was no exception. Clad in simple khaki jeans and flannel shirts, he looked like a lead character in a old fashioned movie. His brown hair, which he had passed on to me, was windswept, his eyes ringed with wrinkles.

Carren put down the box we had carried down on the grass. It groaned on impact, threatening to spill it's contents.

"See, that is a lot of unwanted stuff," Dad said. He patted another large crate next to him. "I found a few things in the attic you could sell."

"Great!" Carren breathed. "I was thinking we could set up my stall in our backyard.."

"Actually, how about setting it in the park down the street?" Dad proposed instead. "It would get more attention there."

"Oh.. okay!"

Dad got a cart from the house, the one he used to dump heaps of snow in when he shovelled the driveway in winter. We loaded the boxes in it, which meant that I, thankfully, did not have to carry any.