Pierce and Scarlett are two unique fragments who cross pathways in a low-end motel. He is running away from his haunted past, while she is trying to build a future from broken pieces. As the pair collides in a series of trying events, they must figu...
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6 | The Bowling Alley
The bowling alley doesn't look any better than the rest of the small secluded town. From the peeling flowered wall covering, the stained carpet and the chipped white pins, my attempt at having fun is nowhere close to escaping the dirt hole I live in.
"Does every place look like this?" I question.
"Pretty much." She shrugs.
"It'll work." I nod hopefully.
"Come on." Scarlett laughs.
We walk up to the front desk and I pay for the shoe and lane hire. We're given shoes and then we head over to the lane. Scarlett sits on the faded blue seat and begins to put on her shoes. They look funny because she's dressed in a black floral skater dress.
"Have you played much?"
"Not really." She shrugs. "Maybe once or twice with Ricky."
Her comment makes me laugh. Ricky playing a game seems farfetched. Anything involving fun is weird because he doesn't seem like the kind to have fun. The hard lines on his aged face along with the scars make him a whole other person in my mind. Maybe that's what he wanted too? Appearances are a funny thing when you think about them.
I often think about Scarlett's appearance and ponder on the things she's gone through; what's happened to make her reserved from the world.
"What name do you want in the machine?" I ask.
"Scar or Scarlett works," she replies.
"Scar." I smile, "I like that."
I put in Peir instead of Peirce so that Scar doesn't look so odd beside Peirce. It's funny how Peirce seems almost bad-ish, the kind of name you'd find neatly stitched on the back of a leather jacket, and how Peir sounds like a posh name melted in gold. Scar on the other hand; both versions made me think of pain.
"Your name is first, so that means you're up!" I smile.
"Ah . . . is that because ladies go first, or?" She chuckles.
"I'm scouting out the competition." I wink.
"Cheeky," she notes.
Scarlett brushes her hair over her shoulder, then grabs a green ball from the back stand and wanders towards the lane. She takes an awkward run up and throws the ball down the lane. It crashes against the wood floor and then trickles down the gutter.
"Let's see you beat that." She nervously laughs.
Her head is slightly bent as she fiddles with the ends of her red hair. If I don't do something utterly stupid now, perhaps she'll curl back into the shell I'm slowly breaking her out of.
I grab the heaviest ball which is a sparkly purple one and walk towards the bright orange tape. With the end of my shoes pressed against the line, I awkwardly swing the ball and throw it down the line.
