"There go," I whisper and cringe at my baby-talk. I'm struggling to shift back to adult me. Shoot. Wiggling my fingers, I jump up and down. "Think Big. Big Lulu.Big girl."
Huffing when my gaze trails back to my bedroom window, I rush away from the house. The path to town is pretty in thespring, but I really wish I had some rain boots because Decorah, Iowa is yucky when the snow melts. Especially because of the river running through town.
Pretty but icky sometimes.
The trail is muddy and full of puddles so before I'm halfway to the job fair, my feet are soaked and I'm uncomfortable. It's hard not to grumble and pout about the fact that I'm not home curled up with Binks and my plastic straws.
Rarely do I bring out my five colorful straws but when the stress is eating me alive, I need something in my mouth. Chewing on the unhealthy plastic is the best I can do.
Maybe if I get a job today I can find a pacifier...
I would use my mom's money but my imaginary Daddy would tell me that's for emergencies. Right? Treating myself has to be earned and I didn't earn that money Mom left me.
The twenty-minute walk suddenly feels so much longer as I contemplate my worthiness. I've accomplished nothing in my life aside from the basics. Honestly, I'm shocked I graduated high school. I tried my best, but I still believe I was pitied.
Another reason going into town is a struggle. I love Decorah, but the community is small and everyone always wants to take care of me. They know by now that I won't accept their pity. Plus, if they knew what happened in my home, everything would have been worse.
But Mom's gone...
If I'm offered a job because someone feels bad for me today maybe I'll accept it. Heck knows I don't have a resume.
The twenty-minute walk comes to an end in a flurry of excited young people from neighboring towns and people lugging tents into the open field near the beach. I see a few people I recognize, but keep my head down. I don't want to talk unless I need to.
Needis subjective. I wonder if I could get a job if I slipped into my nonverbal mindset. Although, I'd need to leave because if that happened I would be slipping into my youngest headspace.
Binks and all her baby-pink glory flashes through my mind, making me wrap my arms around myself. The crowd of neighboring towns joining the job fair makes me uncomfortable, but I have to be here.
Being not quite five feet tall makes this an awful experience. Dodging people left and right keeps me from actually paying attention to booths offering occupations.
Laughter and business talk crowds my mind, skyrocketing the desire to cover my ears and run to the park nearby. There's a rainbow tunnel beneath the playset that sounds heavenly right now. Nobody would touch me or scowl at me for bumping into them.
I want to go home.
Being an adult becomes harder and harder each day. Now that I don't have my mom to look after or my father forcing me to stay in the house, I'm struggling with the freedom.
Tears blur my vision as I realize how horrible it is to think of Mom dying as giving me freedom. Horrible!
A hard nudge against my left side sends me sprawling onto the ground—not in a puddle, thank goodness. "Ouchie," I whimper, and scramble to wipe my stinging palms on my jeans.
Anger is a feeling that was reserved for my father, but when I glance up and see a group of teenagers jumping around and not looking to make sure it's safe to do so, I feel a spark of that nasty feeling.
I shouldn't be mad. They're having fun and I was in the way.Always in the way.
"You okay, honey?"
Voices are everywhere and I swear the crowd is getting thicker. Quickly I try to stand, decision made that I'm going home. Except, for once in my life someone helps me and I'm too stunned to do anything.
A strong hand under my bicep hoists me up onto my wobbly feet. My ratted dark hair obscures my sight as I'm tugged from the center of the walkway. Once the air actually breezes around me and the bodies have separated, I breathe a sigh of relief and start wrangling my hair away from my face.
"There you are." A deep voice rumbles close by and it's then I realize the hand on my arm is gone.
My heart rate spikes, worry crashing through me as I step back. The man is very large. I don't think I've ever seen so many muscles. He could do a lot with those things.
A woman laughs and touches my elbow. "Close your mouth, sweet girl. You'll give Bash way too much to brag about."
"I—" Swallowing, I move away from her too. Why are they touching me? "Sorry," I whisper with a glance at the man who I think is Bash.
This time when Bash comes near me he doesn't touch, but he does crouch and study my cowering posture. "Are you okay, little one?"
