July (The Year of The Change Book 1) (34 page)

All that was left was painting and the last of the repairs and cleaning the attic windows. Dad went through all the rooms yesterday and filled in the holes. Today, he was sanding down the rough bumps on a number of large holes he’d patched. They took a while, or so he said. Tim wanted to help Dad. His mother made him help carry stuff in from the car, instead.

I pulled out two gallons of paint from the back of the car and carried them in. We had way too much fun at the hardware store this morning. The proprietor must have felt like he was being invaded.

When we had all the paint gathered in the entry way Sue divided it up and had us carry the cans to the rooms where they would be used. Mostly, it was white or off white for the rest of the house. Sue was not adventurous. We each selected the color or colors we wanted for our own bedrooms, with Sue having final say.

I’d chosen a very pale baby blue that would lighten my room. It matched the quilt my Gram made that I used as my bedspread. As a bonus, it would also match my sixties bathroom. After the two flights of stairs to the attic, the wire handles cut into my hands. Would my fingers still hurt after The Change? Another one of those questions, with no one to ask. More than glad to be rid of them, I placed the cans just inside the cavernous room. Taking another quick look around, I had to admit now that the room was clean, it had grown on me.

In the living room we spread out the drop cloths. With all the prep work done, the fun could start. That is, if Sue hadn’t been there. I liked to paint. Painting made everything look fresh and new. Dad and I started on the ceiling after Sue explained twice how I should use the long handled roller.

Duh.

Sue set the twins up to paint the two long walls. She didn’t like the way they were doing it and demonstrated, again, how to roll on the paint. Observing for a few minutes she let them continue on their own and she dug out a brush and painted around the windows and woodwork, not trusting us to do it right. By lunch the whole downstairs had at least one coat of paint.

Sue and Tam did a run to the local burger place and brought back lunch. Grudgingly, she remembered to get me two large burgers and two large fries. Every time she watched one of my eating frenzies, she grimaced as though she expected me to explode. I couldn’t blame her since my appetite just kept growing. At first, it was just getting hungry between meals. Now, I got hungry between snacks.

After lunch, the twins and I took a short outdoor break. Tim brought one of those beanbag balls, a hacky-sack. I hitched up my bravery and led them out into the weed forest that was our front yard to throw the ball around. The fresh air and sun on my face felt good.

We heard the putt-putt roar of small motorcycles coming down the street. Tim’s attention was immediately averted. He missed the pass I bumped and it hit him in the chest. Anything with wheels and an engine had his full interest.

Three dirt bikes came our way. The riders looked to be fourteen, maybe fifteen. Two of the riders weren’t wearing helmets, which proved their lack of intelligence. The third wore an old helmet without a face guard. I ignored them until I heard a crash. Looking toward the sound, all three bikes were piled up in the middle of the dirt road.

I ran to the accident. “Tam, get Dad and Sue!”

Tim and I rushed to the three moaning boys. The two without helmets looked the worst. The tall brunette had a cut on his forehead. The one with black hair had his chin all scrapped up and was holding his arm. I didn't sense any breaks so I moved on to the third rider. The one with the helmet was on his back and didn’t move at all. He didn’t seem to have anything wrong. I didn’t sense anything, anyway. As he opened his dark brown eyes, I bent over him. His lashes fluttered a few times then he focused on me.

“Have I died and gone to heaven?”

He was affected.

I sat back relieved he wasn’t seriously hurt. He tried to sit up and I pushed him back down. There was no use taking any chances though, just in case.

“Lay still.” I ordered.

He did as I said, watching my every move.

Dad and Sue came running with Tam in the lead. Sue grabbed the first aid kit from the van and set it up next to the boy with the cut on his forehead.

Sue looked him over before pulling out disinfectant. “How’d this happen?”

The tall boy’s glazed eyes stayed on me as he spoke. “I’m not sure, but all the sudden Matt threw on the breaks and slid sideways. Josh and I rammed into him.”

Sue looked at me as though I meant for this to happen. I tried to ignore her glare. I noticed, for the first time, the wind was blowing The Change right across the road. They’d ridden through my trail. It was my fault and I felt guilty, like always.

All the guys watched, more aware of me than their injuries.

Dad retrieved phone numbers from the boy with the scraped chin. He called all their parents while we administered first aid. It was a little weird how they would moan to get my attention, but barely noticed when Sue cleaned out their wounds. The scrubbing had to hurt.

Parents arrived quickly and took their wayward sons and the wrecked bikes home. It seems they weren’t supposed to be out with their motorcycles without supervision and helmets.

As I helped clean up the mess in the street, I glanced up at the beautiful Victorian next door. The old woman was once again looking out the attic window with a smile. I smiled back, still waiting for her to fade away like a ghost. She didn’t. I hurried into our monster just in case she decided to.

With the excitement done, we went back to work, finishing the second floor by dinner and calling it a night.

Dinner at Tony’s became a habit, one that I really liked. Another Klondike meal, another free dessert and all was right with the world.

The usual customers were in their places waiting for us. The construction crew was back which made Dad twitch every time one of them moved. No one caused any trouble, so I shouldn’t have been so stressed about the staring. I already hated my appetite, having a spot light on it while I stuffed my face, was more embarrassment than I cared for. No one teased, which was a plus, still I didn't need the witnesses. It was a good thing I would be moving back to Oklahoma after high school so I wouldn't have to spend the rest of my life living down my year of gluttony.

Just as we were leaving, two guys arrived and joined the three in the booth next to ours. They looked very disappointed they’d missed their chance to stare at me. They really needed to get a life.

Back in our motel room, I showered before falling into bed, exhausted. Sleep came quickly.

I dreamed of the two Native American guys that I’d been drawing this year. They were tall and strong. The first one now had short black hair -- which glistened in my dream -- and I followed him everywhere. I kept wondering why he’d cut his hair. The one with long, dark brown hair had a tawny stripe across his right temple. He kept stopping me to talk.

I wanted to talk with him and was torn between him and wanting to catch up with the other one. Why I wanted to catch up with the short haired one, was beyond me, which made the dream confusing. Most of my dreams this year had been confusing. I just chalked it up to The Change.

The movers would be here tomorrow, so everything had to be done by the time we left tonight. Barring any more motorcycle crashes, it should be finished. We pulled up any remaining carpet in odd out of the way spots, scrubbed floors, repaired, dismantled and tore down. Bubba, the huge dumpster in our front yard, overflowed by lunch.

After our midday meal, Dad and Tim set about rebuilding the porch. They braced the roof overhang before tearing out the supports. He’d hoped to salvage some of the old lumber. Most of it had rotted and the males of the family didn't look at all disappointed they had to make another run to the lumber yard. Another reason I should’ve been a boy.

Sue worked on the kitchen. It was going to take a lot to bring this room up to her standards. Sue was a
just-so
person. Everything had to be
just-so
perfect or she wasn’t happy. She did more scrubbing. She found and tore up more of the old shelf paper, not stopping until there wasn’t one sticky spot. She touched up paint and cleaned windows. It was amazing what she could accomplish.

While the mother figure in this household continued with her OCD, Tam and I went up to my prison cell laden with all our painting necessities. The attic was still as we entered. The quiet beseeched us to show respect for the aged room … to no avail. Tam turned on her boom box and slipped in one of her boy band CDs. We were dancing to squeaky tenor voices in no time as we spread out drop cloths. I poured the baby blue paint into the roller pan and liked the color all over again. By dinner, we’d danced, sang and painted the whole room twice. It looked pretty good.

The mere hint of color on the walls and ceiling was just what this space needed. It made the room bright, not stark. Maybe I could be happy in this room. Sue was right, like always – I wasn't going to tell her that -- it was a good space. It wasn’t so bad that she was right, again, since I got my own bathroom.

Tam helped me gather all the tools and drop cloths. When we were done, we stood at the door and I admired our work.

“We did good.” I high-fived her. “Thanks for all your help. I never would of gotten it done without you.”

Tam smiled. “I did do a good job.” She sighed, “Now I wish I got the attic.”

I scrunched up my face and wiggled my fingers at her menacingly. "It's awfully spooky up here, are you sure?"

She looked around with wide eyes. "Yeah, I think so."

I laughed at her indecision and ruffled her hair. “No way, the attic is mine. But I do give you visitation rights.”

“Thanks!”

I knew from the way she eyed the room she would visit a lot. I checked the door before we headed down. It had a lock and I wasn’t afraid to use it.

By the time we arrived at Tony’s for dinner, there was a very large crowd. Most of the regulars, who always stared at me, were at the counter or near our booth. I call it our booth because we continuously sat there. For some odd reason, it was always open when we came.

The two rough guys, whom I’d nicknamed Curly (the bald one) and Daryl (who never talked), were in their usual spot at the counter. Since it was our last night here it was tempting to wave and say hi, just to see what they might do. The image of chaos that simple act could cause zipped through my brain. I resisted.

The rest of the crowd at the counter included the young trucker with another of his trucker buddies. He must have a regular route that goes by here. I recognized some of the construction crew sitting at the other end. A few sat at a table. It was a little early for them and I wondered why they knocked off this soon on such a beautiful day. Especially since the light outside was still fairly bright and would be for hours, yet.

The only ones missing were the three booth guys that had almost given my dad a heart attack Sunday. It wasn’t long though, before they too, came rushing in. Their usual booth next to ours was already occupied with some of the construction crew. The guys looked disappointed and a small one opened his mouth as though he were going to yell at the big, burly guys. His friends sharply elbowed him before they dragged him off to find another table in the very crowded diner. They ended up way in the back where they had to stand if they wanted to stare. The small one did just that until his friends yanked him into his seat.

Dad and Sue were busy talking about what we had left to do. She had her lists out and they were going over them, line by line. My stepmother made neat notes next to each item as decisions were made.

A couple more guys came in and eventually spotted the three booth guys and joined them. I thought they might be the two late comers from last night. I didn't look long enough to make sure as I scrunched down and tried to become as small as I could. A losing battle if ever there was one. My long legs tangled with Tim and he gave me a glare.

This was going to be tricky. I wouldn’t be able to look up at all while here. I ordered my usual and busied myself inspecting the salt and pepper shakers.

After ten minutes, of turning the shakers around and around, Sue stopped my hands. “What are you doing?”

I put the shakers down and picked up the napkin holder. “Trying not to make eye contact.”

“With who?” She looked around and gasped.

“Everyone.” I whispered.

Dad looked at Sue before he too glanced around. Realization settled hard. The diner was filled with guys, all looking in our direction. I didn’t understand the surprise,
what else did they expect?

I took a napkin out of the holder and spent the rest of the time shining the chrome while waiting for our food to come. My stomach was starved, nothing new there. When Paula arrived with a large heaping tray my stomach allowed the rest of me to relax.

Halfway through my Klondike, Paula showed up at our table with a slice of apple pie. I looked up confused because I hadn’t ordered dessert yet.

The pretty waitress smirked, “Peter, at the counter,” she motioned to the young trucker who smiled and waved. “He sent this over for you, his treat.” She placed it in front of me.

Not touching it, although my stomach tried to lunge for it, I looked at my dad. Would this be okay or should I decline? My stomach begged me to accept the very thoughtful gift.

He looked at Paula. “Sylvia can’t accept this.”

I heard a groan somewhere to my left and my stomach chorused.

Paula put her hand up as though to stop Dad. “Please take it. He’s been mooning over her all week.”

Dad looked at Peter’s hopeful smile then back at Paula. “He does understand that she’s only sixteen, right?”

“I’ve told him.”

Dad looked at me. “Well, it’s our last night. Okay, Paula, would you please tell him thank you for Sylvia?”

“Sure thing.”

Paula walked away and I made the mistake of making eye contact and smiling at Peter. Suddenly, dozens of guys call Paula’s name. Paula flit from one table to another. Each guy pointed at us while ordering something. After the third table, I focused on my plate and getting done as fast as I could-- that is, until more desserts began arriving.

Paula brought four out. “The peach pie is from Stanly, two tables away,” She nodded toward him.

I looked and smiled.

“The cherry pie is from Terry, at the next table.”

I looked where she pointed and smiled.

“The chocolate cream pie is from …” She looked around, her brows pulled together. “Who ordered the Chocolate pie?” she bellowed, to Sue’s utter embarrassment.

Two guys raised their hands. One was a teen with bright red hair. The other was an older gentleman in his sixties. I held my breath.

She looked at the older gentleman. “Samuel yours’ll be out in a few minutes.” She turned back to me. “The chocolate’s from Andy.” I breathed again.

Andy still had his hand raised as I smiled at him. He stood. An older man at his table, with red hair, probably his father, made him sit.

Paula placed a mincemeat pie in front of Dad because there wasn’t room left in front of me. “This one’s from Alex at the counter.”

I looked as he saluted and winked. I smiled as best I could around my open mouth.

Paula left for another load.

The whole restaurant was focused on us. The affected guys were staring at me and everyone else was looking at our table trying to figure out what the big deal was. Sue slumped down as far as the booth would allow. Tim eyeballed my cherry pie. Dad kept watch on all the guys while he tried to eat quickly. I could see an upset stomach in the making.

Tony ventured from the kitchen to look at the crowd. He shook his head before he went back to his cooking. His ever present smile highlighted by his bright, white teeth.

Paula came out with four more desserts and a chocolate milk shake. She told me who sent each one and I smiled at each of the affected guys. The desserts kept coming.

Upon finishing the Klondike meal, the dilemma of which dessert to eat first cropped up. I couldn’t remember which one came first. I was pretty sure it was a pie, but which one? As each tray of deserts came out, the sugary delights had gotten bigger and grander. The last one was a banana split with so much stuff on top it looked in danger of falling over at any moment. Anything with ice cream needed to be eaten first before it melted all over the table. Afraid to hurt someone’s feelings I found it hard to choose. I looked back and forth between my dad and our table full of calories. Dad’s lips curled up. He chuckled. Then his shoulders jerked up and down as he fought to control his mirth.

“You’d better start eating,” Dad said, holding his sides.

I turned to Tim on my right. “Would you help me eat this banana split?”

He grabbed a spoon. “Sure.” He dug in.

I turned to Tam on my left. “Which one do you want to help me with?”

She grabbed the brownie sundae. “This one.”

“Good, because all of this ice cream is going to melt soon.”

I took a spoonful of the banana split and then a spoonful of the brownie sundae. Dad and Sue each took a desert with ice cream, offering me the first bite. I took a spoonful of every dessert in hopes of not hurting anyone’s feelings. With each desert, I smiled in appreciation and gave a thumbs up. The whole room watched very closely as I finished off half of the deserts.

Tony came out with pie tins and boxes. “I saw you slowin’ down and thought, just maybe, you’d have leftovers. Although, after this week, I’d a bet you’d finish ‘em all.”

I blushed and winked at him. “Maybe a late night snack.”

Tony laughed and placed the boxes on our table. We crammed three tins to over flowing to take back to the motel. My stomach was so elated, it swooned.

We got to the cash register without incident. While Dad was distracted paying the bill, my brain shut off, and I acted on an impulse. I turned to the crowd, not making eye contact with anyone, just letting my gaze skip around the room.

“Thank ya’ll so very much. It was very nice of all of you to come tonight. The desserts were all delicious. We’re going to miss this diner and the nice people in it. Hopefully we can visit often.” I expected the ‘maybe’ in my voice would keep everyone coming back just to see if I did come. I wanted Tony to have a good crowd here so his diner stayed open.

The guys erupted into applause and Dad grabbed my arm and pulled me out before the crowd could get on their feet. Dad rushed us to the motel and ordered us to lock ourselves in.

Everyone was overly full and ready to sleep. Even I was stuffed to the brim. I liked the feeling … until I lay down.

Ugh!

The thick lined drapes made the room dark and the twins were almost completely out with their dessert stupors. I rolled to my side and couldn’t get comfortable. Moaning, I got up and walked the room until my stomach felt a little more comfortable. As hungry as I always was this year, I thought I would never get full. I doubted I would ever get this full again … this year.

My stomach let me know it was okay and I lay back in bed. On my side and comfortable, sleep was all I wanted. Unfortunately, my stomach heard the cherry pie in the mini fridge calling its name.

“You can’t possibly want more food now!” I whispered to my obnoxious stomach. It growled to let me know that it definitely did want that cherry pie… and it wanted it
now
.

Sigh. There was no use arguing with it, it would win in the end.

I got up and pulled out the pie boxes until I found the one with the cherry slice and went to the little table. I didn’t have a spoon or fork. Ah, what the heck, I ate it with my fingers. When done, I refused to let my stomach have the rhubarb slice and put the box back in the fridge. With hands washed, I went to bed and was asleep before my head hit the pillow.