I LAID across a freshly cleaned dining table, my back against the top and my legs dangling off the sides. My fingers throw a ball I made of plastic straws up and down and up and down again through my palm. Dark moonlight shines through the back windows, making my shift seem hours longer than it really is. I groan.
"Is it time to go yet?" I whine and sit up, my brown locks whipping against my shoulders.
"No, dingus! But it would be if you would get back here and help me!" My fellow employee, Bailey, shouts from behind the counter. I scoff, but nevertheless rise off the table and grab a washcloth to help her. She doesn't acknowledge me as much as I'd hoped, just smiles and continues to close the lids to ice cream buckets.
"I still can't believe my mom made me work here." I sigh. She gives a sarcastic laugh and nods. I watch her for a moment, feeling slightly ignored for whatever reason. I decide to shake it off and slide a piece of gum into my mouth.
It's not long before we hear the honk of two cars outside. I slide through the customer window and grab my backpack before following Bailey out the door, through the rest of the mall, and to the parking lot where we find our parents chatting. My dad is the first to notice us. His lanky body walks toward me and pulls me into a hug. I laugh, slightly embarrassed by my goofy father.
"Oh good! Aspen!" My mother exclaims and gestures at me. My father and I walk toward our station wagon of which my mother is leaning against. She opens the door to the backseat for me and allows me inside. I give Bailey one last wave and enter the back of the car. She does the same, disregarding our parents who decide to continue their chat for a little while longer. It takes another 20 minutes before my mom decides to finally get in. I relax against the seat, feeling less warm from the air conditioning. I jerk up, feeling the cool air quickly stop. The engine groans, plastering a confused look on both my mother and father's faces. She tries it again, the vehicle squeals and stops again. The confusion across my mother's face soon turns into fear, and I notice it immediately.
"Michael, please check the engine." My mom's panicky voice only worries me more. I can't quite tell what is happening.
"But Jane-" My father is cut off by my mom's loud voice. "Mike!" I watch my usually laid-back father start to become tense and walk behind our car. I glance over and notice Bailey's car still parked as well. My mom's hands grip the steering wheel tightly as she looks over everything around us.
"Car troubles as well?" Robin and Tammy Thompson, Bailey's parents, shout from the side of their car. My mom nods.
"Jane! Jane, get back here!" My father's worried tone calls to my mom from behind the car, forcing her out of the driver seat to go look at him. I tilt my head out of the window to get a good glance of the reason for the panic. I see two extremely distressed faces looking down at my father's bare hand. The hand that holds some sort of slimy goo that twists and turns in between my dad's fingers. My mom looks like she's about to cry when something even more strange happens. My parents as well as Bailey's moms turn their heads to loom toward the lights of the mall which flicker brightly under the sunset. I step out of the car, intrigued by the changing lights. Before I know it my mom screams for me to get back inside the car and pushes me in. At this point, my dad looks more terrified of the scene than my mom, who dips her head down low and stares deeply into the lights. I can't tell what she is doing, all I know is that I'm terrified. Bailey's moms both get back into their car and watch my mom, as well as my father. The flickering lights come to a halt, and I can hear the sound of both engines roaring. What the hell just happened? Bailey waves and drives away with her parents, while my mom and dad both sit down where they were before. My eyes trace every movement each of them make. The last thing I notice before we are back on our merry way is my mom's left hand which wipes away a drop of blood. Along with that, I notice a small faded tattoo on her wrist that I can make out to say 011. 011? What on earth does that mean?
