Chapter 3; a man recognizes her
Yesterday's memories were just a relapse. I'm better now. Only had one nightmare of that night last night. And now I'm refreshed and ready for a new day.
The days have been slow. Me and James (I found out that's the employee's I met name) Flip for every hot guy that comes in. Usually, he wins and I let him. There's this boy with dreamy eyes trying to pick out a sketch pad for his girlfriend and James is helping him- He might be leaning in too far- when the bell rings and a man in his fifties walks in. he sees me and walks right to me. Businessman. The kind that sends everything out to dry cleaning. "Accuse me mama but I'm looking for paints for my daughter and need some help," he says pronouncing every word of the sentence.
"Alright let's see what I can do for you, sir. Right over here" I lead him over to the far wall.
"Alright, I think that should do it. I hope she loves them" I say with my signature fake smile. He had taken so long just to pick out the cheapest set. I felt bad for his daughter.
"Thank you" he grabs the bag to leave but doesn't "your john hill's daughter aren't you? I believe we met once at a business lunch. How's he doing?" I'm stunned. How the fuck am I supposed to answer that? Didn't he watch the news? It must be on the news by now. Is he doing this on purpose? What a stuck up ass.
"Why don't you go ask him," I tell him.
"I haven't seen him in forever. We use to have some good times together. I need to remember to call him" he says leaving "good to see your dear," he tells me not even looking me in the eye. Dead my ass, that man probably doesn't even know my name. He doesn't even know what happened to my family. I storm to the break room. I can't take this. Kick the lockers. Why does life suck? I pull my hair and sat down. Why would anyone want to know my father? And if you did you definitely knew of our issues. Why didn't he help? Why didn't anyone? Maybe things would be different if someone did.
This is a clear sign that I need to leave. This just isn't good for me anymore. I shouldn't have stayed this long.
"Hey, Samantha? Are you ok? I heard you run back here. Everything alright?" I quickly whip my tears off and face him. He's a good guy and I'm going to miss him. But at the same time, I want to forget. It seems like now that's all I want to do.
"No, it's not. I got to go. Sorry to bale but I just can't" my lip only shook once.
"You've been crying," he says softly
"Is it that noticeable" I laugh it off
"Well, you be coming back?" James asks
"Probably not" more than just probably
"Ok then goodbye" James gives me a hug. I'm not good at hugs. "can't wait to see you tomorrow"
"ok see you then" I grab my stuff and leave. The food next door was bad anyway
It's funny what reminds you of home? Just random things. A smell. Or a honked horn. A woman's dress. Anything. For others, I guess those might be calming. They might help make their day get better but for me, the flashbacks hurt.
I drove all night. It rained and it was beautiful. By seven I found this big city with on ramps, traffic, and skyscrapers. I imagine a person can get lost in there. In the herd.
I walk around to soak it in. I once met a man who wanted to be a journalist and when I asked him why he told me he wanted to treat places like people. He wanted to travel and interview buildings and make Maine streets tell him their story. I found that beautiful. As I walked I tried to do what he does. I asked a stop sign what motivates it and a side of a glass building how it stands day after day. But no reply. I guess I just am not a journalist.
Then as I walked by a store I saw a news real being played out the window. The story was about a new case of domestic violence. About how an innocent man was on trial for murder, and how the only witness, his daughter, has run away. There a picture of me and a number to call. But as usual, the media has got it wrong. He is not an innocent man, and his daughter did not run away, I escaped.
So I got back to my van as calmly as I could and drove down the streets and avenues till I found the onramp and left.
Maybe I'll never find what I'm looking for. It's all for nothing and I'll just die in this van. Unhappy and alone. I just want to start over. Is that too much to ask for?
