Authors: Janice Hadden
I
leaned against Steve’s shoulder. My heart felt hollow as the
feeling of emptiness inside me resurfaced—overwhelming and
consuming me with grief all over again. Steve kissed the side of my
head. When we finally walked away, we left nothing behind, except the
repeated echo of silence.
As
I got in my car and Steve in his, the sheeting rain poured, sliding
down my windshield like a waterfall. I sat still for a moment as the
feeling of emptiness began to slowly numb me. I had felt this feeling
many times before, and like always, I gladly welcomed it. I wanted
her to know that she was very much missed. I slowly turned the
ignition on and my windshield wiper, thrashing the water out. The
road had turned quickly muddy, caking the tires. The tires spun,
trying to get traction and finally it slowly rolled. Driving through
the convoluted twists and turns of the road, I could hardly see my
way out of the cemetery as if it had suddenly turned into a maze.
The
lightning and thunder blinked and roared, making my heart heavy and
my mind anxious. It became difficult to see the labyrinth-like path,
but I had been familiar with every turn that I didn’t need to
see my way out.
As
I drove passing the familiar lights, the day suddenly turned to night
as the dark cloud covered the sun. The dreariness of the sky lingered
as well as the eclipse of darkness in my heart.
I
curled in bed that night, my thoughts entangled in the memories of my
past yet again—or of what little memory was left and what Steve
had told me. I propped my chunky, orange pillow and rested my back
against the cushioned headboard. I grabbed my copy of
Wind Shear
and flapped the page open to eighty. Forcing my consciousness into
the story line, I began to drift into the realities of the book.
Sometimes it felt nice to be in a different world—a world where
there are no gaps in between—where there was a beginning and an
ending to the story. Where there are struggles, but then a happy
ending—my life wasn’t like that. It was page 300 when my
alarm clock ticked to 2:00 a.m. With a deep sigh, I bookmarked the
page and gently placed it on my nightstand.
I
got up and slid the bedroom window, letting the cool breeze in. The
coolness of the night filled the whole room, making me shiver. The
chill in the air quickly engulfed me. As I stared out into the
darkness, my restless eyes, caught two houses down a light blinking
bright in one of them. It felt a bit reassuring that someone else was
still up and I wasn’t the only one awake at that exact moment.
I wondered briefly what would have been the reason that had kept
someone awake at that hour.
Would
it be as dim as
my reason? Would it be as mysterious as my thoughts?
I
slid the glass window shut. As I sat in bed once again, restless from
my thoughts, I flipped my book and started reading to where I had
left my bookmark. It was around the last chapter when I finally lost
my consciousness into a dream—that turned quickly into
a—nightmare.
Spinning
bright lights blinded me and I couldn’t fix my eyes on anything
stable. Everything was moving. My hands were free and felt light,
like I was flying. Unrecognizable, pleasant echoes of laughter
surrounded me, ringing gently in my ears, like soft whispers. The
cool breeze, kissing and stroking my face while playing with my hair.
I felt the exhilaration of every movement of my body. I was laughing.
I was glad to be there.
Then
it happened—In a blink of an eye, lightning flashed and I was
falling into the darkness, gravity pulling me under, deeper. The
air—thick—humid—suffocating me. I couldn’t
breathe. My scream was trapped in my throat. It was an endless pit; I
kept falling deeper and deeper and deeper. Fear choking me again. I
heard the familiar sounds of colliding metals. This time it was
louder, closer. I stretched my lids open, but there was nothing
except the darkness that was pulling me. I heard voices whispering
but I could not make the murmurs behind the wisp of air. Then, there
was
nothing
.
There was only
darkness.
Waking
up didn’t give me a sigh of relief. My heavy breathing didn’t
stop as well as my thoughts of my all too vivid dream or nightmare,
whichever it may be. I automatically looked for my alarm clock and It
blinked to eight o’clock. Suddenly, my body automatically
bolted out of bed before my mind even realized that I was late for
class. I brushed my teeth, took a quick shower, somehow got dressed
less than five minutes and marched down the stairs to the kitchen to
grab my keys.
I
hurried into class, missing it by half an hour. I sat next to
Charlie. She handed me her notes to copy. I didn’t miss much. I
will still need to get a note from Steve. The day had been busy. My
mind was half present for most of the time and when the last hour
came and as I drifted back into reality—above the instructor’s
table, I stared at the long chalkboard across the room all the way to
the big clock on the right side, as the minute hand continually
ticked its way to the next notch—very slowly, making me gasp
with anxiety. Finally, the bell rang and I was driving home.
When
the stranger entered my thoughts again, I made peace with the idea
that I might never see him again, but consoled myself with the fact
that, I wouldn’t be faced with the awkwardness and the unknown
fear I would be feeling.
I
still desperately needed a job, so when Becca left me a message to
come by the Blue Lagoon—the restaurant where she worked at, for
an interview, I was more than excited. I had applied at several
places in the area as well as online. Jobs had been tough to come by
lately, but Becca, promised that she would put in a good word for me.
Working at a restaurant wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when
I first thought of finding a way to earn some extra cash. It just
seemed too demanding and I didn’t really want anything
interfering with school. But as it is—beggars can’t
really be choosers…so I was more than glad to find a decent
job, especially that I knew someone there that I‘d be working
with.
Becca
and her parents moved in next door to Steve and I about two years
ago. Steve offered to help when he saw them unloading their twenty
foot truck. Their family came over for dinner that night, and Becca
and I started carpooling to School. Becca had short, medium choppy
hair with highlights. Her hair was layered and from my impression of
her at first, I thought she worked at a salon. She had medium height
and built. She was gregariously approachable. She got a job at the
Blue
Lagoon
ten
months ago and when she found out I was looking for one, she offered
to recommend me to Lonnie
—
the
restaurant manager.
Steve
had been gracious enough to let me stay rent free for the duration of
College, and still giving me allowances here and there. Before
graduating high school, I needed to earn a little bit more than my
occasional baby sitting jobs that I had been getting.
I
wanted to save so that I could trade in my old beat up beetle as well
as save for my trip to Europe the following year to take
classes—traveling was something I considered an essential
experience as well as an academic enrichment. Steve was a single dad
and I hated the idea that he had to take care of my basic
necessities—no matter how basic the necessity was.
Besides,
I liked being independent when it came to my time. If I didn’t
have a job, he might start asking questions about
where I’m
at.
..and
where I would be going
, and
what time would I
be home.
Having a job at a restaurant means my hours won’t
be set and he won’t really be asking me about my innings and
goings, which suited me fine. Just because I will be living at home,
doesn’t mean I wanted to be treated like I was still a minor.
I
needed to get ready for my interview, but I completely forgot to ask
Becca what I was supposed to wear. I never had an interview for a
restaurant job before. It was past six and my interview was at seven.
I was beginning to panic. I certainly cannot afford to be late. I was
more than glad that Becca was able to set up this interview. In many
ways, I didn’t want to let her down. This also wasn’t a
typical interview protocol. Becca had told me that Lonnie never gives
interviews at night.
But
Becca, had pulled some strings for me, because for one, she wanted
to, and second, because she can. Lonnie considers Becca family and
had somewhat
adopted
Becca as her
daughter. Lonnie never had children. Since she knew I had class in
the morning, she made an exception for me to come in—which gave
me an impression
that
I will be getting this job—I think, unless I screw it up by
being late. I tried on several outfits. I couldn’t decide
whether I should go for a blazer and pant combination or a dress suit
or was any of it too much. I knew I only had five minutes to decide.
I
finally went for my silky muted shade of lavender top with a black
pencil skirt and a nice pair of black pumps. I let my hair down and
tilted it upside down, brushing the ends until all the snags had
loosened. I fluffed my hair back up. I put on make up, the usual
light tone that I wear. I decided to bring an extra pair of sensible
shoes, just in case they decided to hire me on the spot and I had to
work that night. I knew they desperately needed someone immediately,
so I wanted to make sure I was prepared. Bustling through the busy
streets, I was lucky not to hit all the red lights and zoomed my way
faster than usual. I was surprised that I got there sooner than
expected.
As
I entered the restaurant, I saw Becca standing by the entrance,
waiting for me excitedly. I scanned the room. It looked halfway full.
Becca came toward me and gave me a hug. “Well look at you. I’ll
tell Lonnie you’re here.” Lonnie was not only the manager
but also the owner. She shook my hand and politely greeted me as she
came out of the hall. “Let’s go to my office,” she
said as she gestured for me to follow her to the short hall that led
to a small room that had a sign that displayed her name. Lonnie was
slim, blond, with a great pair of legs. She’d been divorced
twice and had been married to her restaurant ever since. Becca said
she’s a control freak and very much old fashioned and knowing
that, gave me an extra doze of anxiety.
Looking
at Lonnie’s face, she had some deep lines around her eyes. Her
hair was straight and up to her shoulders which accentuated her oval
face and cheekbones. Her lips were thin, but she wore a plum colored
lipstick a little bit outside her lip line, making her lips look
fuller but rather old fashioned. She wore minimal eye make up, making
her
look
,
seemed toned down. She was in her early fifties.
She
looked tired, but judging from seeing the restaurant and the crowd, I
couldn’t imagine Friday and Saturday nights will be for all of
us. Becca had always been a hard worker and she didn’t mind
work, especially when it came with big tips. Before I knew it, Lonnie
was shaking my hand and handing me my schedule and my uniform. “Thank
You,” I said, as I took something black inside a plastic. I
still couldn‘t believe my luck of good fortune. I had applied
at several places and not one had even gotten close as to a phone
call. Lonnie shut the door behind me. “So when do you start?”
Becca was just right outside the office door—eavesdropping.
“
Tomorrow,”
I said, smiling in victory while we both walked out to the main
dining room. “Six to eleven…thanks Becca, I owe you
one.”
“
You
won’t be saying that once you see the crowd,” she teased.
“
Really?”
I suddenly felt weary. My pulse was drumming fast.
“
I
was just kidding…you’ll be fine…I’ll teach
you everything. Anyway you owe me more than once…I’ll
collect later,” she said enthusiastically.
“
By
the way I have four concert tickets…if you want to tag along
with me and Jeremy.” Jeremy is Becca’s boyfriend. They
have been dating for two years now.
“
You
could bring a date and all. Better yet, I’ll set you up.”
Her eyes lit with excitement as she waited for my acknowledgment.
Couldn’t
she find another hobby?
“
No!
I’m not interested in being set up!” I hissed with a
little bit of warning.
“
Well,
bring your own date then,” she snapped, as she sprinted back to
the west dining room. Becca had made it her mission to set me up
every chance she gets. But
then
again, she wasn‘t the only one who has tried. But I really
didn’t want anybody. It wasn’t like I couldn’t find
dates, I just didn’t want to date. Period. Is that so hard to
understand? After I broke up with Cash, I never really felt that I
wanted to be with anybody else. I was really fine with that.