Luna Perlman knows lots of things.
She knows how many footsteps there are between the bus stop and home. She knows she likes working in The Buttered Bun tea shop and she knows she might not love her boyfriend Ashton.
What Luna doesn't know is sh...
There are 158 footsteps between the bus stop and home, but it can stretch to 180 if you aren't in a hurry, like maybe if you're wearing platform shoes. Or shoes you bought from a charity shop that have butterflies on the toes but never quite grip the heel at the back, thereby explaining why they were a knock-down $1.99. I turned the corner into our street (68 footsteps), and could just see the house - a four bedroom semi in a row of other three - and four - bedroom semis. Dad's car was outside, which meant he had not yet left for work.
Behind me, the sun was setting behind castle, its dark shadow sliding down the hill like melting wax overtake me.
(This is the castle but again, imagine it how you want)
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When I was a child we used to make our elongated shadows have gun battles, our street the Jalcopo de' barbari. On a different sort of day, I could have told you all the things that had happened to me on this route; where Mrs. Rossi with the lopsided wig used to make us Panettone; where Chiara stuck her hand into a hedge when she was eleven and disturbed a wasps nest and we ran screaming all the way back to the castle.
Luca's tricycle was upturned on the path and, closing the gate behind me, I dragged it under the porch and opened the door. The coldness hit me with the force of an air bag; Mum is a martyr to the warmth and keeps the air conditioning on all year around. Dad is always opening windows, complaining that she'd bankrupt the lot of us. He says our air conditioning bills are larger than the GDP of a small African country.
"Is that you, Mella?" (Mella means apple in Italian lol, i just thought it was cute nickname)
"Yup." I hung my scarf of the peg, where it fought for the place among the other stuff.
"Which you? Luna? Chiara?"
"Luna."
I peered round the living room door. Dad was face down on the sofa, his arms thrust deep between the cushions, as if they had swallowed his limbs whole. Luca, my five year old nephew, was on his haunches, watching him intently.
"Andimo." Dad turned his face towards me, puce from exertion. "Why they have to make the damned pieces so small I don't know. Have you seen Obi-Wan-Kenobi's left arm?"
"It was on top of the DVD player. I think he swapped Obi's arms with Indiana Jones's."
"Well, apparently now Obi can't possibly have beige arms. We have to have the black arms."
"I wouldn't worry. Doesn't Darth Vader chop his arms off in episode two?" I pointed at my cheek so that Luca would kiss it. "Where's mom?"
"Upstairs. How about that? A two pound piece!"
I looked up, just able to hear the familiar creak of the ironing board. Marzia Perlman, my mother, never sat down. It was a point of honour. She had been known to stand on an outside ladder painting the windows, occasionally pausing to wave, while the rest of us ate a roast dinner.
"Will you have a go at finding this arm for me? He's had me looking for half an hour and I've got to get ready for work."
"Are you on nights?"
"Yeah. Its half five."
I glanced at the clock. "Actually, itz half four."
He extracted his arm from the cushions and squinted at his watch. "Then what wre you doing home so early?"
I shook my head vaguely, as if I might have misunderstood the question, and walked into the kitchen.
Grandpa was sitting in his chair by the kitchen window, studying a sudoku. The health visitor had told us it would be good for his concentration, help hos focus after the strokes. I suspected I was the only one to notice he simply filled out all the boxes with whatever number came to mind.
"Hey, Nonno." (Italian for Grampa)
He looked up amd smiled.
"You want a cup of plum juice?"
He shook his head, and partially opened his mouth.
"Cherry juice?"
He nodded.
I opened the fridge door. " there's no cherry juice." I pouted remembering Luca had the last glass of it. "Fragola?"
He shook his head.
"Water?"
He nodded, Murmured something that could have been a thank you as I handed him the glass.
My mother walker into the room, bearing a huge basket of neatly folded laundry. "Are those yours?" She brandished a pair of socks with Cherries all over them.
"Chiara's, I think."
"I tought so. Odd color. I think they must have got in with Daddy's plum pyjamas. You're back early. Are you going somewhere?"
"No." I filled a glass with tap water and drank it.
"Is Ashton coming round later?" He Called earlier. Did you have your phone off?"
"Mm."
"He said he's after booking your holiday. Your father says he saw something on the tv about it. Where is it you liked? Ipsos? Kalypsos?"
"Skiatos."
"That's the one. You want to check your hotel very carefully. Do it on the internet. He and Daddy watched something on the news at lunchtime. Apparently they're building sites, half of those budget deals, and you wouldn't know until you got there. Daddy, would you like a cup of plum juice? Did Luna offer you some? I made it yesterday so its cold " she opened the fridge then glanced at me. Its possible she had finally noticed I wasn't saying anything. "Are you alright, Mela?" You look awfully pale."
Whe reached out a hand and felt my forehead, as if I were much younger than twenty - two.
"I dont think were going on holiday."
My mother's hand stilled. Her gaze had that X-ray thing that it had held since I was a kid. "Are you and Ash having some problems?"
"Mum, I--"
"Im not trying to interfere. It's just, you've been together for long time. Its only natural if things get a bit sticky every now and then. I mean, me and your father we--"
"I lost my job."
My voice cut into the silence. The words hung there, searing themselves on the little room long after the sound had died away.
"You what?"
"Nico is shutting down the cafe. From tomorrow." I held out a hand with the lightly damp evelope I had gripped in schock the entire journey home. All 180 steps from the bus stop. "He's given me my three months money."
Hiii, so this story is for my friend, she begged me to do Luke story but not as depressing as the last one lol. I hope u will like this guys ❤️
