Star Gazing

Part four.

There was a big oily patch on the front of Taylor’s shirt and it was annoying the crud out of me. Ugh. He kept emphasizing it too, by touching his tummy every once in a while. He really should eat more carefully... it was just... annoying!

I was in a weird mood. Yeah.

We were down at the Chymes park. It was boring. There was nothing to do but eat and talk. Not that I wanted a big slide and a sand pit to play in - although it would be nice. Hehe. Shuddup Carrie. This is not helping the boring situation.

Sigh. We’d finished eating. Now there was nothing to do but talk. Fun. Talk, yeah ok, more like listen.

At first I was happy that we were getting out of the Hanson’s house. There would be no Zac to butt in. Only if he came. That fact scared me for a while but luckily when we met up with Taylor, Zac was nowhere in site. Yay!

The subject of Zac. I still don’t understand why he would just start on with my game. Actually I haven’t tried it out – maybe his spying was only a once in a blue moon thing. Perhaps he was only there for co-incidence. Maybe he wasn’t taking over my Star Gazing status. Just maybe.

I had realised something by looking through that window reflection, spying on Zac. He twitched his left side of his mouth a little, every so often. It was weird and vaguely familiar. I don't know where else I’ve seen that motion. Maybe it was on tv. Yeah, probably.

No! I remember now. I know where I’ve seen it before. How could I forget?

The background of Mira and Taylor talking were echoing softly as I began to recall the memories.

My Dad’s lip would often twitch just as Zac. Although not so obvious, it was definate. Now did that make sense? Well, he definitely twitched his lip although it wasn’t as obvious as how Zac does it. That's better.

My Dad – so many good memories. Especially during his birthday.

Delicate Angel, I was his Delicate Angel. He called me that from time to time. It all started on his 39th birthday. I had bought him socks. How creative! Anyhow, he thanked me and called me his Delicate Angel. I don’t have a clue as to how socks were related to me being his Delicate Angel. Sigh.

I’ve always wondered why I was named Delicate Angel. I think I was very close to being an albino, but not quite. Was it because I was so white, I reminded him of an Angel? But this can’t be right, I sinned endlessly, angels did not.

Confusing, confusing. Delicate, yeah, I think that one’s obvious. I’m more of the delicate person out of Mira and … well, me. Dad would always go overboard with that fact. I think that if I had to go overseas, Dad would bundle me up in polystyrene foam and stick me into a box with a label – "Caution, breakable object", or something. No joke.

I opened my mind again, it was back to the real world - the one without my father. Yeah yeah, Carrie, welcome to the real world.

Mira and the Star were laughing. At what? Not me I hoped. I hated it when people laughed at me. I stared out of the slit through my glasses. Were they looking at me? – laughing at me? I bit my bottom lip and started to curse them – for laughing.

It was then that I realised they were pointing at some old guy, trying to catch up with a grandchild. I think it was his grandchild. Anyway, the guy was lugging behind with his walking stick, the kid running infront. Yelling out in some other language, the old man was struggling to keep within seeing distance.

I felt sorry for him. There was no way I would laugh at something like that. Then again, I didn’t laugh much anymore, only to myself. To inside jokes I had with myself. Sad, I know.

I felt sudden anger towards Taylor and Mira. They were so cruel, why should they laugh at other people’s misfortunes? Jerks. I was getting really peeved with them, it’s lucky they couldn’t see my eyes. The shades were shielding them from my icy stares.

The man continued to hobble along. I felt like running up to help him with his troubles. It seemed as though another middle-aged lady had the same idea. I could see her approach him and gesture in a friendly mode.

The old guy completely blew her head off. Screaming in another language, he waved his stick at her. Wrinkles were building up on his forehead and I could see his eyebrows melding together. His ears were practically fuming.

That was not the reaction I expected. Neither was it the lady's for she hurried off looking as if she was about to cry. The tables were turned, the woman was the helpless one now. It was her who I felt sorry for.

Whoa, that scene was so weird. I guess some people just don't like to be deprived of their personal space. I suppose that was the way with Zac and I. He butted in and I practically blew up like the old man. Only, I had kept the anger to myself... for the time being.

Mira and Taylor were stunned. They had stopped pointing and laughing. They were frowning. It's amazing how one’s actions can affect a whole crowd.

****

We were all packed up and ready to leave the park. Mira gave me her hand bag to carry. I didn’t mind, the thing was quite fashionable and Mira and Taylor had both hands full with the picnic basket. I walked along behind them, gently swinging Mira’s bag, to and fro.

Suddenly I felt my arm being jerked backwards. I let my fingers flex and before I knew it, some guy had taken off with Mira’s bag, running in the opposite direction, we were heading. Idiot! Mira and Taylor hadn't realized, and had kept walking. It was up to me.

I ran after the guy. He seemed in his early thirties and had a beer belly. He wasn't running very fast, but then again, neither was I. I was never an athlete. It turns out I could catch up to him. I grabbed his shirt from behind but knew I couldn't hold him like that for long. So, I took a handful of his greasy, dirty hair. He stopped, unwillingly.

Hair was a much better handle than a shirt.

Mira and Taylor still didn't realize what had happened. I stamped my foot in order to get their attention but it didn’t work. I couldn’t exactly call out…

But I knew who could. I gave the bloke's hair a sudden tug and he screamed out. Personally, I don't see why he didn't just elbow me or kick behind with his foot. This guy was a fool.

It worked, Taylor and Mira turned behind to see what the commotion was about. They quickened their pace and approached us. Taylor grabbed Mira's handbag and continued walking up where we were heading before. Mira followed, as did I.

There were no words of thanks or phrases of 'Are you okay?!' Nothing. My heart was beating fast from the commotion and running. I really didn’t feel like walking all the way back, but they didn’t ask me that.

Total rejection, that was what I felt. Total rejection.

I looked behind and noticed that fat bloke still on the ground, rubbing his scalp. He was probably half drunk when he took that handbag because come to think of it, he wasn’t running too straight.

Now I wasn’t holding anything, just walking behind them. Taylor probably didn’t trust me with the stuff, that was why he was trying to balance the handbag on the wobbling picnic basket. More rejection. Mira too, for she didn’t say anything to Taylor about it.

My heart still hadn’t stopped beating fast. Not very normal for me, I usually overcame things like this quickly. Yep there it goes, slowing down. That’s a good sign. The feeling of rejection still hadn’t vanished but at least my heart wasn’t beating ten times a second.

I stuffed my hands into my pockets. This hadn’t been a good day.

Beginning with a fight with my mom, something I hated most, to this mugging... or more like attempted mugging.

My mom was all over me, criticizing my every move. Thing which I did do, things which I didn’t do – talk. Most parents say, "How dare you talk back to me!" With my mom, it’s more like, "Talk!! Don’t keep quiet like a dumb person!" I cried after we fought, or well she fought, I took it, not being able to argue. I hated it when people fight. Especially if I was one of the people involved.

Part five...

Stories