This Time

Five

FIVE: OUT OF HAND

JULY 25, 2009 7:18 AM

I checked my past self's planner to make sure I won't miss anything from her schedule today. If I'm going to figure out what happened and what I should be doing to fix this whole time travel fiasco, I shouldn't mess with my past self's schedule. I shouldn't change anything from my time here. Who knows what will happen to my present life if I did something wrong here. I don't want to risk anything.

It's a Saturday, but I know sometimes I have schedules on weekends. I opened the pink molang diary and checked July 25th.

JULY 25

Wall Mural Painting W/ MOSWD

10 AM

I checked the clock and see that I still have a couple of hours before this schedule. I continued the research I did last night about time travelling.

Another two hours of research and I found nothing helpful. All these are a bunch of conspiracy theories written by people who probably don't have anything to do with their lives. I need to find something really helpful soon. Or else, I'm going to be stuck here for weeks. Or months. Or years. No.

I took a shower and prepared for today's schedule. I put on my splattered white tee and my painting overalls. I missed these clothes. When I turned 20, I gave most of my old clothes to goodwill. It's all part of my "I'm growing up" shit, along with the posters on my wall. I just realized now that it's all nonsense. Deciding you're all grown up doesn't mean you have to throw stuff away, especially when they're a reminder of the good things that make you who you are in your life.

****

I arrived five minutes early on site, but the kids and the volunteers are already gathering. I went to see Ms. Carla, the Municipal Office Social Welfare and Development Head. I don't remember how old she is or how we met, but I'm assuming she's around 24? And I did a lot of volunteer work when I was in High School and I also spent one summer working there so I'm pretty sure I know most people in the Municipal Office.

"Hello Ms. Santiago. We're so glad you could come." She pulled me into a hug. Ms. Carla is very affectionate. Or should I say touchy. She motioned to a stack of brushes and cans beside the "The supplies are over here. You can grab whatever you can."

"It's my pleasure." I said, taking a brush and two paint cans. "So do we start now, or are we still waiting for someone?"

"We'll start in a few. We're just waiting for the volunteer artist to give us a feel what we'll be doing. He was here the other day and last night to draft sketches on the wall. See." She gestured to the walls and surely there were pencil marks. I can't quite make it out yet, but it already seems beautiful.

"Wow. I'm sure this will look amazing, Ms. Carla. And the kids look excited." I looked over at the group of kids huddled in front of the first wall. They seem eager to start. The gleam in these kids' eyes is making my heart jump in joy.

"They are. They can't stop talking about it."

It happened all of a sudden. The kids started scrambling, and yelling as if someone really famous came in.

My lungs seemed to have forgotten how to function as Patrick came into view. Body organs, for once, please do not embarrass me. I tried to steady my breathing as I watch him high five all the kids and pause to tell them what seems like a private joke that made all of them crack up. 

Why does he still have this effect on me?

"Mr. Rodriguez, you're here." Ms. Carla pulled him into a hug and I suddenly feel envy. She is really affectionate slash touchy. I wish I get a hug, too. "By the way, this is Ms. Santiago. She'll be volunteering with us. She has been with the MOSWD for years." Ms. Carla, gestured as if to introduce us to each other.