Crashing into Dane.

2

This holiday seems too long. Dad is probably worried about me spending too much time at the market. He wants me to sell on weekends only, but I can't sit on my hands all day. I can't watch dad work and get tired after drawing a couple of lines. I need to see what's out there whilst Dad has the time to listen.

Whilst he still can listen.

I close my eyes and whisk the terrible thoughts starting to creep in on me away. I have to stay positive. Dad's already given in, I won't.

There's a couple of children fighting over a packet of corn chips by the corner. One starts to wail like the world is about to end and I can't help but giggle a little. Kids.

Today's a bit slow, Thursdays are always slow. Save for the drunkards that come to buy lemons whilst trying to make a pass at me. I hold my breath. They reek of alcohol and human stench.

"The way we support your father's business, he should take it easy on me when I pay your bride price."
With a smirk on his face and eyes glimmering of lust. I keep a straight face and watch as he counts his change.
"Maybe I'll give you a little something to help you relax, huh." The other one adds on as they look at me like I should say something. Like we talk all the time.

I squint my eyes at the burning sun, and look at the lady in the next stall. She wants me to say something rude to them, but I turn and look at them in silence.

They snort and walk away.

"These boys will give you trouble if you keep doing that. They'll say you think you're too good for them if you don't talk to them. Of course you are, but they have no sense."
She says immediately after they're out of sight.

"I'll have to deal with it then, if they give me any trouble."

"A pretty young thing like you walking around these streets alone. Be careful."

I nod and look at the children splashing water all over each other by the corner. No more tears in the eyes of the little wailing one. I smile.

My days are very uneventful. Good. Because things make me nervous. I don't know how to address certain people or how to hide my emotion. Mr Michaels said he noticed that his questions make me uncomfortable. I'm glad he did.

Why am I selling our vegetables at the market when I have a great architect dad?

Firstly. Our farm produces waay too many goods for just us two, and the workers get their fair share before we harvest for sale. Also, surprisingly, people around here buy quite an enormous amount of fruits and veggies. Probably because the meat here is either stale or too expensive. I like meat. I like when my Dad and I barbeque goat meat by the garden chairs and drink cold beers. We used to do that almost every Saturday evening. But now the doctor says he has to keep whatever energy he has, so we barbeque once a month or so.

I need to sell these veggies whilst I'm still here, before I go off to college and leave Dad alone. I have to save the retirement package for varsity, so that Dad won't have to work too hard whilst I'm away to keep me in school.

That's why I don't mind a lot of the things that make me grossly uncomfortable. Because it's for Dad. He doesn't like it, but he couldn't convince me not to do it. I can't help much with his condition because he needs professional help, so I'll do what I can to keep him of his feet whilst the doctors find him better treatment, and maybe even a cure.

Its sunset again. I pack up and walk back home, I want to paint. I want to paint the little girls crying over chips. I want to paint the screaming and laughing a few moments later.

I'll ask dad to let me go to the stadium. I need to paint. Its always so amazing to do it there.

Two tall figures stand in front of me as I make my way home and I pick up the stench immediately. I scrunch my nose a little before I look up.

"We'll take you home sweetness."
A coy smile on their lips.

"I'm okay, I'm almost home already."

I try to walk around them but they block my way again.
I stand and look up at them.
Why are they doing this?!

"Come on. Let me push your little cart for you. Or do you want me to push something else for you?"

I feel sick. I feel sick. My throat starts to burn.

"Get out of my way, please."

I say without looking at either of them.

"Cool, sweetness!"

There's a small group of kids walking past. I breathe out and turn to walk home.

One of the filthy men flips my cart with a hand and sends my Brussels sprouts and carrots flying all over the chalky tar. I'm mad. I want to beat them up so badly, I probably could, but dad would keep me in the house forever. I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth and gather my little veggies as the stinking bullies walk away laughing like they have anything to laugh about in their lives. I squint in anger after them. They're a couple of skinny fellas, I could knock them out in 5 minutes tops.

Dad's in his studio like always when I get home.

I kiss him on the cheek and sit across the desk.

"I want to take boxing again dad."

I say with a serious look in my eyes, a broad smile across my face.

"Who do you want to beat up? The two guys who gave you trouble today?"

I open my mouth to ask where he got that from. But I don't get a word out.

"The mailman dropped by just now. He was bringing in the mail when he said he saw you pick up some scattered produce as two men walked towards him grinning."

I roll my eyes. Of course.

"I thought I saw Tom walk into our gate. I was a bit distracted."

"No."

"But Dad! I-"

"No Cheryl. No."

I get up, defeated and walk into the kitchen. Its cold. I heat up the stove plates as I wash my hands and get ready to make supper. Dad used to love to cook. He still does, I let him do it once on Sundays, but sometimes he has terrible headaches and he can't.

I feel my throat heat up.

"Hey Dad. Guess who I saw at the market today!"

I can't see him, but I know he has lifted his eyes in anticipation.

"Ms. Hera." I say in a teasing tone.

She absolutely fancied my Dad, he had sworn off women after my mom.
He still blushes when I mention her. They had almost dated a few years ago, then she got moved to another town. She was a teacher. An arts teacher, she adored me. I don't know if that's because she was in love with Dad, or because my paintings had caught her eye.

"Was she alone?" He walks into the kitchen and sits by the counter, after turning the lights on. "I mean, how'd she look?" He shyly trails off.

I grin at him, "she looks single, Dad. Totally. I didn't see a ring on her, and she definitely asked after you."

He rubs his hands beneath the counter. And looks up with a little sparkle in his eyes.

"She really liked you, you know."
I move to his side and nudge him gently, "and I didn't mind at all. Actually, I don't mind if you find someone nice for you."

"I know honey, you're so selfless. But I can't..." he trails off.

Can't bring someone else into this mess?

"Dad, you're gonna get better. I wish you'd believe it at least half as much as I do."

He rubs my hand gently and waits for dinner with a fading smile on his face.

Oh, he still likes her alright.