Two Strange Girls||A Beatles Story

A Taste of Soup

On day two of the eighteen days in America, I asked George if I could go shopping while in town. He said yes, but he went with me since I didn't know this town or time.

George and I walked around for a bit. Faith stayed behind because she was humble and didn't want any more things. Forget that. I'd rather be shopping than being stuck in a motel room.

I hopped onto the curb and tried to balance myself. As I did, I asked George, "If you ever became extremely famous, would you still remember me and Faith? Would you remember the two girls from the future?"

George didn't say anything for the longest time.

"I'm trying to imagine how I'd forget the two of you. Out of all the girls I'll meet, I think the two of you will be the most memorable."

I hopped onto the sidewalk and stood in front of him. I tilted my head up and looked him straight in the eye. "How? I mean, I can see how you'll remember me. I've done crazy things. But how will you remember my boring sister?"

He laughed. "I'll remember her." We both started walking again. "Listen, Tessa. About that letter you saw—"

I screeched. Inside a store's window was the most beautiful dress I've seen. The bottom layer was a light peached color, strapless dress that cut off at the knees. The top layer was see-through with sleeves that cut off at the elbow. The fabric was covered in dark gold flowers and leaves. A thick, peach colored strip of fabric tied around the waistline.

"George! Georgie! You have to get this!" I put my face against the glass. I probably made some weird face in the process.

"Don't you have enough dresses?" asked George.

"Not for me, dummy. For Faith. Gosh, that's perfect for her. Bland yet beautiful."

"I can get it for her."

I could see my smile through the reflection in the window. "Why, George, you're very kind, but you know my sister. She wouldn't take it. Not without giving something in return."

I was too busy admiring the dress that I didn't see George actually go inside the dress shop. I watched in amazement as he sorted through the dress sizes and grabbed the one he thought was best. He purchased the dress and came back outside with the bag.

I stared at the bag in awe. "It's amazing how you'll do anything for a fan." We started walking again.

He smiled. "I picture Faith more as a friend instead of a fan."

I slapped his arm. "Am I not your friend?" I gave George my big, bug eyes.

"I mean . . . You weren't a fan, so I can't really say you went from fan to friend. Um."

I held out my hand. "Consider us friends."

When George grabbed my hand, I squeezed it hard. He winced in pain a little bit.

"What was that for?"

I shrugged. "Dunno." We passed a restaurant. It was getting close to lunch. "I'm hungry. Let's eat."

I walked into the restaurant without his approval. The small voice in my head, which sounded a lot like Faith, told me to ask George before I actually went inside. But did I listen? Nope. It didn't matter. George followed me in and sat down with me.

"Should I be paying you back? I mean, you've done so much for me, me, and me. And look! You just bought a dress for my sister."

The waiter came to take our order. I ordered the chicken soup while George had some sandwich.

"You don't need to repay for anything. I'm happy to help," answered George.

"Yes, but we don't know how long we'll be here. Gosh, I sound like my sister. I'm just saying that Faith could get a modeling job back in England to help you out. And I could, um, work at Starbucks!"

Did they have Starbucks back in 1963?

"I've had this conversation with Faith, already. And while I'm sure she's glad that you're thinking about getting a job, I already told her that it's fine the way it is."

"But—" My gaze drifted toward the restaurant's door. A black couple was trying to get into the restaurant. "What's going on?" I asked aloud.

The couple was told to go somewhere else. I've never seen a restaurant turn anybody down. I grabbed a waiter as he was walking by.

"What's going on?" I demanded.

"We have a strict policy of no colored allowed," the waiter answered.

Colored? That's right. Segregation hadn't ended yet. And back in England, there wasn't segregation.

"Tess?" I stared away from the couple when George touched my arm. "Are you okay? You're crying."

I wasn't crying. I had one or two tears coming out of my eyes. "It's fine. I didn't live through segregation. It becomes abolished in a few years. It just hit home because my best friend is black, and we've both never thought anything of it. It's not normal in 1963 like it is in 2019."

"Would you like to go somewhere else?"

Yeah. My time. "No, it's fine. I'm too hungry to leave at this point." I cracked a smile.

I took a sip of my water and didn't speak until the food came out a few minutes later.

"Yo, this is Gucci." I didn't slurp my soup, I'll have you know. I actually have manners, guys; I just never use them. "Oh, sorry. You're not use to my American, modern slang. Cough, cough. Is this better?" I made my voice sound more posh and old.

George laughed. A genuine, hard laugh. "If your music career doesn't happen, you can go into the comedy business."

"I'll think about it in the future. You can be welcomed at my first show. I can see it now. You, John, Ringo, and Paul coming just to see me and Faith. You will not have seen us for fifty-six years. We talk. We laugh. And then I go on stage. Whether it's as a comedian or a musician, you'll be there. Because why? Because you'll be alive." I blinked. "Or don't come. I don't care."

"You just have to make something deep and turn it back into a carefree attitude, don't you?"

"You know it!" I took a sip of my soup. "So, Faith told me we're going to New York for a few days after we leave Benton."

"Yes, but how did she--Oh, right. She's fan from the future. I didn't think she knew all of the details, though."

"Then you don't know my sister. She's a legit stan."

"'Stan?'"

"Stalker slash fan. Stan."

"Ah."

We soon finished our lunch. As we were leaving, I got another futurey. I grabbed George's sleeve and slid to the ground, pulling him with me.

"Tessa, what's going on?"

I stood on a stage. Fans seemed to be shouting a name, but I couldn't tell whose name it was.

I snapped out of it. Off to the right of me, George was looking at me, worry written all over his face. The people eating in the restaurant were looking at me. I quickly stood up and ran out of the building. I hated how I had a futurey in front of George and random people. I was embarrassed. George was going to tell my sister about it; Faith would worry.

"Tessa!" George called. I heard his heavy footsteps as he tried to catch up.

I ran faster. I didn't stop running until I knew I lost George. I ended up at a park. It was vacant. Kids were in school, and adults were at work. There was a playground, a small walking trail, and a large patch of grass the size of a football field.

I ran to the playground and crawled under it. (I use to do this all the time as a kid.) I buried my face into my knees and cried.