I'm Scared of Heights | ONC 2023 ✔️

6) Fly Away

Winn

What if life were a musical?

If life was like High School the Musical, everyone would be infinitely energetic, musically inclined, and groovy. God, that would be fun. Y'know, seeing everyone sing and dance without so much as a thought to the weirdness of it. Yeah, it's a shapeless thought. But think about it, that would be like Jackson Browne and Valerie Carter performing together again.

Both are unrealistic.

Humans are judgemental.

And Valerie Carter is dead.

Anyways? That's a depressing thought.

At least Jackson Browne is still alive and well.

Quirking my lips while skimming over the ever-growing line, my smile grows wider. It always gets busy after six on Sundays. "What else can I get for y'all?"

"Clary? Hey, which one do you want?" The middle-aged mother bends her head down at a little kid who gleams up at me with a toothless smile.

"A strawberry one!" With a look from her mother, she adds, "Please," with a gigantic grin.

"Anything else?" I glance at the mother. With a shake of her head, I ring up the total, spin around, and grab two junior cups.

I think I live for these moments.

Yeah, that sounds right.

I live for moments of unrestricted enthusiasm and joy. Childish exuberance. It's reassuring not to consider the cons and feel through the moment. The kid is going to enjoy this treat. They're both going to smile. I'm going to smile. Paul gets another dollar for the lights. We get paid. Fizzy's, the best slushie place in town, gets to slush another day.

It's easier to think of glowing thoughts.

As Peter Pan would say, "Just think of happy things, and your heart will fly on wings, forever, in Never Land!"

My grandmother loved reading me the fairy tales of Peter Pan. She always narrated with such enthusiasm that I always tried to mimic. I loved the way Gran could always make me–anyone smile. She always had a twinkle of wonder and mischief in her eyes. That must have been why kids loved her. In my opinion, she's the best kindergarten teacher to ever exists. She kept the adventures of Huck Finn, Treasure Island, and Winnie the Pooh captivated within me. We were Winnie and Kanga on an antic quest for fun, the highlights of my life then. All we needed was a little faith, trust, and pixie dust.

Thinking of all the good I do is like fuel for my flying car. It's my pixie dust, everything I need to fly away from this–real life.

Think happy thoughts, Winn.

Then, reality hits, and my optimism falters. The strawberry slushie has enough sugar to send a diabetic into a sugar coma, and this kid's teeth could rot out of her head if she doesn't brush.

Still sporting a bright smile, I hand the little kid the strawberry slushie. Her face radiates childish glee while the mother sends me a slight smile before guiding her kid toward the back. My eyes follow their tracks. I freeze. Familiar chestnut locks and stick straight posture greet my eyes in the back, the far back.

Isn't she supposed to be with Jack? Did Jack bail? Is he a no-show? Did he stand her up? Aren't those all the same things? What happened? Is she okay? What the hell, Jack? What happened to avoiding this situation? Kyle, we've made a mistake. Why did I listen to him at our meeting yesterday?

Rarely do any of Scramble's clients become a no-show. The process takes effort. You have to get a consult, read our material, and show up for yourself. I've only had three people go awol in my four years with Scramble. Two of the three had panic attacks. The other had to have emergency surgery.