Misalignment | ✔

record

My mother
still has the car,
so instead of
driving to the mall,
Matty and I settle for
walking the twenty minutes
to the nearest shopping outlet.
Despite the cold,
it's not a very miserable
kind of an adventure.
Matty chatters
enthusiastically
the entire time,
telling about her
little brother's birthday
the other week,
and how her sister
had smuggled him
out of their parents' house
so she could see him.
It had meant
a lot to her -
I can tell
just from the look
in her eyes.

"Matthias still
won't talk to me,"
she says of her
college-aged older brother.
"He sides with
Mom and Dad
on most everything,
I guess.
I don't think he
hates me
or anything, but
it's like him
to avoid conflicts
like this.
I just wish that I
could talk to him,
and tell him
how I feel..."

"I'm sure he'll
come around
eventually.
He's your brother,
after all."
But despite my best attempts
to console her,
Matty still seems
unconvinced.
Even so,
she does her best
to put on a smile
as we finally reach
our destination.

"This way!"
she suddenly calls,
pulling me off
towards a small shop
on the far edge
of the strip mall.
"I know the
perfect place."

Said place turns out to be
a rather quaint old
antiques shop,
somewhat dilapidated
and with several dolls
adorning the front windows.
They look pretty creepy,
in my opinion,
like the kind
one would find in
a haunted house -
but Matty seems unfazed
as she tugs me inside.

"Why here?"
I ask when she
finally slows, and then
stops to check out
a few vases placed
near the door.
"We could have just
waited for my mother
to get home, and then
we could have driven up
to the mall."

"That place is dangerous,"
Matty tells me
in her best 'mom voice,'
"especially for two
naïve little teenagers.
Not that I don't think
you could protect both of us
from weirdos -
but I do think that
this kind of stuff
would suit your mom
much better."

If by that, Matty means
that everything around us
is about as strange
and quirky
as my mother is,
she isn't wrong.
Still,
I don't really
see her point.
The entire place
looks more like
an explosion of stuff
from an elderly hoarder's home.
There are kitty clocks
on the walls,
tattered lace doilies,
and what looks like
the magic lamp from Aladdin,
among other junk.
I'm about to ask Matty
what she's expecting
to find here
when she abruptly cries out
in delight
and runs off
into the cluttered aisles.

Of course,
I have no choice
but to follow her.

The smell of old spice
and that fruity perfume
all old ladies
seem to wear
surrounds me as I
plunge forward into
the mess.
It could have been
one of those action-packed
chase scenes from some movie
if it wasn't for the fact
that all I'm dodging now
are boxes piled high
with ancient artifacts
and the occasional
elderly shopper,
rather than bullets.

I run into Matty again
before long.
In her hands, she holds
whatever she'd run off after
in the first place,
a triumphant smile
on her features.
"Flory will love this!"
she tells me.

It's not until
I really take in
what it is
that I have to agree.
The vinyl record
of Billy Joel's Piano Man
sits in her hands -
worn, but still
in relatively good condition.
He has to be
one of my mother's
favorite artists
of all time,
and the album is probably
one of her very favorites, too.

Still, one thing
about all this
doesn't seem to make sense.
"My mother doesn't have
a record player, though,"
I realize aloud -
but Matty only
shakes her head.

"It doesn't matter.
She'll still be thrilled
just to have it.
It's a collector's piece,
you know?
Like getting a t-shirt
for your favorite band,
even if it's a size
too small.
You have it,
and it's still
really cool,
even if it's a bit
impractical,
so you still love it."

Her analogy makes
even less sense than
this gift,
but it's my mother,
so she'll probably be ecstatic
regardless.
Matty seems just as happy
to have found her
'perfect gift,'
and I can't
take that away from her.

"You're right,"
I tell her
as she beams up at me,
eyes aglow with
a strange excitement that
somehow manages to
infect me, too.
"She'll love it -
or, at least,
she will
if we can afford it."

×

Okay I changed my mind, this is my favorite chapter ever, and I'm not even sorry;;; Oh god, these two are just so cUTE KILL ME--

I'm just dying over here, don't worry about me. All you Catty shippers are getting to my head, oml. Also my allergies. I think they're getting to my head, too. Or maybe my chest. You know what, I don't even know any more.

If you guys liked this chapter, it would be very much appreciated if you would vote and leave me some feedback! c: Anyone have speculations for how this all is gonna end? I know I keep saying it, but the end is nigh, and there is a huge finale on the horizon... It's gonna be grand, I can tell you that. Very, very grand. I'm so psyched.