Hello everyone (is anybody out there?)
I just finished my rewrite of another story. So if you are interested, here it is! If you read the first version (Sarah) I have changed a lot, so let me know what you think. I would LOVE the feedback! Also, don't be scared by the length...its only 12 pages double-spaced.
Red Shoes
Norah stepped out of her car and breathed in the warm, spring air. It was a beautiful day. The sky was a bright blue, not marred by a single wisp of cloud. She wanted nothing more to jump back in the car and drive off to the picnic and family waiting for her only a few blocks away, but she fought the urge to flee. She stared out over the rolling hills of gravestones and felt her stomach fill with lead at the thought of what she set out to do today. She was finally going to say goodbye to her father.
She began the trek to her father’s grave with head held high and an iciness flowing through her veins. Despite the warmth, she shivered and pulled her sweater tightly over her thin dress. She looked around, wondering how many other people would be actually visiting a grave on this glorious day. She spotted something so out of place in a graveyard that she had to stop and look closer. A few yards away a little girl, no more than five or six, was twirling around in a light pink tutu. Her mother, dressed in black, beckoned for her to hurry up, but the little girl kept dancing. Her strawberry blonde hair glowed in the sunlight as she danced pirouettes around the tombstones, as if oblivious of the sadness and loss surrounding her. She was an angel dancing in the city of the dead. Norah smiled, recognizing that feeling of liberation and freedom that can only come with innocence. A long time ago, Norah had the opportunity to experience this exact feeling.
When Norah was in the second grade and had nothing better to do, she explored the woods behind her house. Her mother was out getting groceries with her older sister, Lilly. Her father was supposed to be taking Norah to buy new shoes, her old ones were a size too small, but it was beginning to look like that wasn’t going to happen. He was nestled into the old, threadbare recliner in front of the television with a beer can in hand and several empty beer cans piled on the floor.
“Dad, are we gonna go get some shoes?” Norah asked quietly, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear her. He stared blankly at the television and then shook his beer can: empty.
“Get me another beer, would ya’?” he grumbled scratching his days growth of beard. Norah sniffled and wiped her nose on the back of her hand as she dutifully walked to the kitchen to play bartender. He never even took his eyes off of the television to look at her. She decided at that moment that she was going to run away.
She handed him an ice cold beer from the fridge before she left knowing that it would be awhile before he would check on her and then she packed a bag for her great adventure. All of the important stuff went into that little bag, her teddy bear, sketch book and crayons and she was convinced that was all she needed to survive. She slung the bag over her shoulder and snuck out the back door as quietly as possible. She had to pull on the door handle with all her weight but finally she heard the tiny click that meant the door was tightly closed. Then she giddily ran across the long grass in our backyard as their three dogs ran excitedly in circles around her feet.
She climbed over the low metal gate because the grass was so long from weeks of neglect that rusted gate would not open anymore. Once she was over the gate the world was at her fingertips and she enthusiastically made her way into the tangle of forest. Her mom had warned her never to go into the woods, there were tics and snakes and possibly other wild animals that were sure to bring her harm. But she wasn’t scared; she was confident she would be safe. Protected by that invisible shield that all children under a certain age believe they have. After a few minutes she came across the most wonderful fort. It was her own private sanctuary, a castle for a princess, a ship for a warrior, and she had decided it would be her new home. She climbed the wooden rails and lay out on the weather beaten wood and drew in her sketchbook for what seemed like hours to her but was really more like forty five minutes. She suddenly realized she didn’t bring any food and she missed her mom horribly, so she headed back home.
Those forty five glorious minutes ended up being the most exciting and liberating minutes of her life. She was in charge of herself and she could do anything she wanted. She could live there forever and no one would ever know! She knew what it was like to be an adult, and it was the most amazing feeling ever. When she snuck back into the house she heard her mom asking her dad where she was.
“She’s down the street at a friend’s...Jennifer, I think?” he grumbled before finishing off his beer.
“Her name is Jessica” Norah said walking into the room. It wasn’t technically lying, her name really was Jessica, not Jennifer, and she didn’t actually say she was at Jessica’s house. She wasn’t going to tell him where she really was, it was her secret and she didn’t want to share it with anyone. No one ever knew she was roaming the woods that day. It was an exhilarating feeling knowing that she was by herself and no one knew where she was. It was her first taste of freedom. She have spent her entire life trying to get that feeling back.
Norah tightened her laces on her favorite, worn, high-top red converse sneakers and pulled her wild red hair in a low ponytail. She was now twelve years old and had nearly forgotten her moment of freedom in the woods. It was excruciatingly hot today and the humidity curled her hair and it refused to be tamed. She opened her bedroom window hoping the breeze would make it less stifling. It didn’t.
She opened her shoe box and counted her money like she did every day, eighteen dollars and twenty seven cents. She just needed twenty to join the art club and get a whole set of new art supplies. She saved up enough to join last year but after giving her money to her dad, had never received anything in the mail as the advertisement promised. Once she asked her dad what happened to her money and he told her it probably got lost in the mail, she never really believed that.
She wanted more than anything to be an artist when she grew up, more specifically and illustrator for children’s books, but her parents never had the money to buy her any art supplies. So she started saving money by collecting soda cans and redeeming them for money. She would walk around her little neighborhood picking up any cans she could find, smashing it under her shoe and throw it in her little red wagon. After her dad left she snuck into his workshop in the back yard, which was usually forbidden. Inside she found mountains of beer cans everywhere; she thought she had hit the jackpot! After spending all day cleaning and smashing each can individually and taking trash bags full of cans in to be weighed she only ended up with seven dollars and thirty five cents.
Now, she tucked her eighteen dollars into the pocket of her worn jean shorts, throwing the change on her dresser and grabbed a book. She was planning on asking her mom for the remaining two dollars for the art supplies when she got home from work. Norah sat on the hard wood floor in the living room in front of the fan and opened her book. It was way too hot for anything else, but to read.
After an hour of escaping into the magical world of her book, Norah stuck the folded up Art Club advertisement in the book to mark her place and snapped it shut, wiping the sweat that was beading on her forehead with the pack of her hand. She lay back on the cool hardwood floor and listened. No longer could she hear the low hum of the air conditioner, it stopped working at the beginning of summer, no longer could she hear her mom humming in the kitchen as she baked cookies and prepared dinner. The house was just too quiet for her anymore, and she felt like the quiet was suffocating her and forcing her to think of how things used to be, and she didn’t want to be reminded of how much her life had changed.
Since her dad left, her mom had to get two jobs, which meant she was never here anymore. She worked at a Gypsum mill making drywall during the day. She would come home with dust covering everything and smelling of the chalk that Norah’s teachers used to write on the blackboard. In the evening she worked at a nursing home for the elderly, Norah silently wondered why no one would pay her to take care of her own house. Their house had fallen into disarray the past few months. Laundry was piled in the bathroom and hallway, dishes sat, stinking and spoiling, in the sink and a thick layer of dust covered almost everything. Gone were the delicious meals Norah’s mom spent all day cooking and the mouth-watering desserts that could brighten any horrible day. Now the fridge was stocked with microwaveable dinners and the cupboards full of cheap, packaged snacks.
Norah walked out of the house and headed for her favorite cherry tree in the backyard. She liked to climb the tree and read all day long, eating the sour cherries that grew in the summer. She was disappointed and angry to find that Lilly was in the back with her newest boyfriend, Tom. Lilly was laid out on a lawn chair in the tiniest blue bikini Norah had ever seen. Her mother would never let her wear that if she were home to notice. Norah desperately wanted to be like her sister. Lilly had long legs and curves. Unlike Norah, she had smooth blonde hair and not a freckle on her face. Once when Norah was younger she asked Lilly how she got rid of her freckles and Lilly snidely told her she used lemon juice. Norah scrubbed her face with lemons until her skin was bright red and sore, but the freckles didn’t budge.
Norah liked Tom, he was okay, for a guy, and he came and mowed their lawn for free. Lilly was supposed to be watching Norah while her mom was at work but most of the time she invited Tom over and spent the day draped over him kissing and hugging him. Norah thought it was a little disgusting and swore she would never do that to a boy. She didn’t think she would ever have to worry about it since she planned on never getting married. Boys were gross and ended up like her father. She never wanted to live with a man again.
Her dad used come home every day, grab a beer from the fridge and disappear into his workshop in the back yard or in front of the television and no one would see or hear from him for hours. Unless, of course, Lilly or Norah was bad, then he would yell and throw things, grab them by the hair and throw them down on the floor. He would get inches from their faces and yell so the spit would fall on their faces and they would freeze in fear. Then he would whip them with his belt and they wouldn’t be able to sit for days.
Then one day, he came home and didn’t go immediately for the fridge for a beer. He called Norah and Lilly into the living room and told them they were going shopping. They went to the mall and bought expensive gifts, anything they wanted. Norah picked out her trusty red converse sneakers. Of course, at the time, she didn’t love them like she does now. She still remembered how he never took her to buy shoes the day she ran away. So she made sure she picked ones that he would have never bought her before. She expected him to tell her to put them back and find something cheaper, something that would match the rest of her clothes, but he just smiled and hugged her and brought them to the counter to pay for them.
Then he took them out for dinner, McDonald’s and ordered cheeseburger happy meals even though they were way too old for happy meals. Over burgers and French fries, surrounded by screaming kids, he told them that their mom had asked for a divorce. They didn’t cry. He expected tears and hugs and for them to beg him to stay. They just sat there, refusing to look at him. Lilly sat at the table picking at a nail and hummed to the song playing over the speakers. Norah wanted to cry, felt like she should, but the tears didn’t come. Then he simply disappeared overnight and they haven’t seen him since, even though their mom told them he lives in an apartment only a few miles away.
Wanting to avoid the kiss-fest going on in the backyard, Norah turned and decided to sit on the front porch. She picked at a small hole in her right shoe, not feeling like reading anymore. These were the only pair of shoes she wore anymore. They were her favorites, but they were getting a little worn. The shoelaces were frayed and the fabric was tearing. The soles were smooth and there was a small hole forming under her left big toe.
Just then her mom pulled up in her rusty red car. The tires screeched as if they were in pain as she turned into the driveway. Norah jumped up and walked over to greet her, preparing herself to ask for the two dollars she still needed. She opened the car door and stood in a cloud of gypsum dust, looking as if she had just stepped out of a snow storm.
“Hey Norah, how are you doing today?” she said brushing the dust off her jeans, and kneeling over to tie a shoe.
“Mom, can I have two dollars?” Norah pleaded.
She looked down at Norah’s shoes as she stood up, taking in the holes and frayed laces, “Norah, honey, do you need new shoes?”
“No, mom, these are fine.” I said digging my toe into the dirt. “Can I have two dollars?”
“I will have to figure out how to get you some shoes before school starts.” She said walking towards the door.
“No, mom, I like these shoes, they are fine.” Norah whined, getting annoyed.
“We’ll go to Wal-Mart on my day off and get you something, okay?” She said tucking her coppery hair behind her ear.
“Mo-om, I don’t want crappy Wal-Mart shoes, I like these. I want more like these.” she snapped.
Her mom shot her a look that rivaled Medusa, “Norah, I can’t afford those shoes like your father can.” She said your father like it tasted bad. “And do not talk like that, I didn’t teach you to talk like that.” Norah stood staring at her, shocked; she wasn’t used to hearing her snap at her like that. Her mom was usually a bright ball of sunshine, always trying to sugar-coat things like her desserts.
She stormed inside as the dust from her clothes swirled around her in the wind and the screen door slammed behind her. Norah sat on the porch feeling guilty for breaking down her mother’s sunny nature. She didn’t like to disappoint her mom. It hurt more to see that look of disappointment in her eyes now than when her dad used to whip her with the belt. After a few minutes, Norah stood up and went inside, fighting back tears. Her mother had already changed her clothes and brushed most of the dust from her hair.
“Sorry, Norah, I didn’t mean to yell at you. It was just a busy day at the factory. How about we all go get frozen yogurt for a snack before I have to go to my other job?” She smiled brightly and Norah felt relieved that she didn’t completely crush her mom. “You go find Lilly and tell her Tom has to go home and then we will go, okay?”
About thirty minutes later they piled into the tiny car. Norah’s mom turned the key and the car sputtered and groaned, puffing out small clouds of smoke. She took a deep breath and tried it again. It sputtered to life and she pulled out of the driveway and headed for the new frozen yogurt shop that recently opened a few miles away.
They pulled into the parking lot and entered the shop. They were immediately overwhelmed by the unique mixture of scents. There was a clean fresh oaky smell from the handmade wooden benches and the smell of fresh paint from the bright squares of pink, yellow and green on the walls. The smells of frozen yogurt hung thickly in the air mixing with the smell of fresh waffle cones, a heavenly mixture of double Dutch chocolate, vanilla, strawberry and many more delicious flavors. Happy oldies music played through the speakers as Lilly crossed her arms in boredom and studied the menu and Norah reached out to grab her mom’s hand.
“Well, kids, what’ll it be?” mom said cheerily.
A girl about Lilly’s age stood primly behind the counter. She wore her bleach blonde hair perfectly curled and looked down at them with boredom as she tapped one perfectly filed purple fingernail on the bright pink Formica counter.
“I will have a vanilla-chocolate swirl.” Lilly said with a sigh and turned to find an empty table.
“Double Dutch chocolate,” Norah said with a smile, trying her best to make her mom forget about her earlier outburst in the hopes she could still convince her to give her two dollars.
“And I will just have vanilla.”
“Okay, that will be nine dollars even” Blondie said as she examined her nails.
“Nine dollars for frozen yogurt?” her mother laughed, “I guess the economy really does affect everything, huh?” The girl shrugged, bored.
My mom dug around in her purse and brought out a handful of crumpled bills. The girl scooped it up and smoothed each dollar bill one by one, counting out loud with each dollar.
“That’s only six dollars,” the girl said clearly getting annoyed. She continued digging around in her purse when it slipped off the counter and flipped through the air, landing upside down on the floor at her feet. The contents of her purse flew everywhere and change landed like rain on the floor, scattering out of reach. Lilly sunk low in the bench hiding her face.
Her mom dropped to her knees and hurriedly scooped up all that she could reach and started clumsily dumping it in her purse. Norah bent down to help her and was surprised to see tears running down her face. She sniffed and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. Norah fished out three crumpled dollar bills from the mess on the floor and threw them on the counter glaring at the girl behind the counter.
“It’s okay, mom. Don’t cry.” Norah whispered to her as she retrieved the last of the loose change.
“If I could just get that damn bastard to pay child support…” She mumbled under her breath then wiped her eyes, took a deep breath and stood up.
They took a seat at a table across from Lilly who was now staring, embarrassed, out the window. Her mother seemed to instinctively pick up on her need to be left alone.
The girl behind the counter brought us our cones of freshly scooped frozen yogurt and we sat quietly licking the melting, sticky sweet treats as they dripped down our hands. Norah watched as her mom closed her eyes a moment and took a deep breath, relishing in the moment of self-indulgence.
“Hey Lilly,” she said cheerily, opening her eyes, “Why don’t you come and join us?” Lilly rolled her eyes and got up and walked out of the shop where she leaned on the hood of their car and finished her cone. Her mom stared at her for several seconds with a frown and suddenly she looked much older to Norah, she no longer looked like the youthful, easy-spirited mother she knew her whole life. Her mother sighed and stood up, dumping the remainder of her cone in a nearby trash can.
“Norah, honey, keep an eye on my purse while I go to the bathroom, okay?” Norah nodded and pulled her purse closer to her as she bit off the end of the cone. She let the melted sweetness drip into my mouth and then popped the rest of the cone into her mouth, chewing slowly and savoring the last of the gooey goodness.
Norah peeked into the tangled mess of her mother’s purse. Out of curiosity, she pulled her wallet out and opened it discreetly beneath the table, looking around to make sure no one was watching her. It was empty of everything besides her mother’s driver’s license, several credit cards that had been cut in half, and a card with the smiling face of a man that had an awful poof of white hair on his head. “Olson Family Law” the card read in bold black letters, “Representing the future of your family.” Norah slipped the card back into the slot wondering what kind of miracles Mr. Olson could perform on their screwed up family. She frowned and closed the wallet, replacing it back in the purse.
She pulled out her art club money from her jeans pocket and balled up each dollar bill separately and hid each one in a different place in her purse. Norah imagined her mom searching for money one day only to find eighteen extra dollars that she hadn’t known she had. She imagined her mom smiling happily like she used to and treating herself to lunch. Norah wouldn’t tell her she put the money in there, she would just let her mom think that it had appeared their by magic.
Her mother came out of the bathroom with her face red and swollen. Mascara smudged under her eyes. She wiped at them and tucked her hair behind her ears. She smoothed her shirt and glanced at her watch.
“Well, Norah, it’s almost time for me to head back to work again.” She sighed and they began making their way to the door as Norah stared down at her old shoes. Suddenly, Norah stopped and pulled lightly on her mom’s shirt.
“Hey, mom, I have to go to the bathroom.” Norah refused to look her in the eye, afraid she would see right through her lie.
“Okay, but be quick” she smiled, waving her off.
Norah ran to the bathroom and sat down on the cool tiled floor. She wished that we had air conditioning at our house like this. It felt amazing and she thought that she would be happy to live in this bathroom for the rest of the summer. She untied the laces of her shoes and slipped them off her feet. She ran her hands across the smooth soles and stuck her finger threw the worn holes. They weren’t as bright red as they were when she bought them. She pulled tightly on the frayed laces and tied the shoes together in a neat little bundle and cradled them for a moment, like a baby, and twirled the laces around her finger. Then she hugged them tightly to her chest.
She stood up and dumped them in the trash can and walked out of the bathroom feeling a tiny bit of loss but not a bit of regret. The girl behind the counter looked up as Norah passed her and then looked down at her shoeless feet. She arched one brow and frowned and Norah crossed her arms and looked at her, daring the girl to question her. She flipped her curled hair over her shoulder and rolled her eyes before grabbing a nail file and focusing her attention on her nails. Norah turned and bounced out the door and into the car with bare feet and was thrilled to feel the rush of blood through her veins that she had only felt once before, when she was in the second grade, running wildly through the tangled forest. She was running madly towards her sanctuary, her freedom, her castle in the trees.
Norah stepped out of her car and breathed in the warm, spring air. It was a beautiful day. The sky was a bright blue, not marred by a single wisp of cloud. She wanted nothing more to jump back in the car and drive off to the picnic and family waiting for her only a few blocks away, but she fought the urge to flee. She stared out over the rolling hills of gravestones and felt her stomach fill with lead at the thought of what she set out to do today. She was finally going to say goodbye to her father.
She began the trek to her father’s grave with head held high and an iciness flowing through her veins. Despite the warmth, she shivered and pulled her sweater tightly over her thin dress. She looked around, wondering how many other people would be actually visiting a grave on this glorious day. She spotted something so out of place in a graveyard that she had to stop and look closer. A few yards away a little girl, no more than five or six, was twirling around in a light pink tutu. Her mother, dressed in black, beckoned for her to hurry up, but the little girl kept dancing. Her strawberry blonde hair glowed in the sunlight as she danced pirouettes around the tombstones, as if oblivious of the sadness and loss surrounding her. She was an angel dancing in the city of the dead. Norah smiled, recognizing that feeling of liberation and freedom that can only come with innocence. A long time ago, Norah had the opportunity to experience this exact feeling.
When Norah was in the second grade and had nothing better to do, she explored the woods behind her house. Her mother was out getting groceries with her older sister, Lilly. Her father was supposed to be taking Norah to buy new shoes, her old ones were a size too small, but it was beginning to look like that wasn’t going to happen. He was nestled into the old, threadbare recliner in front of the television with a beer can in hand and several empty beer cans piled on the floor.
“Dad, are we gonna go get some shoes?” Norah asked quietly, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear her. He stared blankly at the television and then shook his beer can: empty.
“Get me another beer, would ya’?” he grumbled scratching his days growth of beard. Norah sniffled and wiped her nose on the back of her hand as she dutifully walked to the kitchen to play bartender. He never even took his eyes off of the television to look at her. She decided at that moment that she was going to run away.
She handed him an ice cold beer from the fridge before she left knowing that it would be awhile before he would check on her and then she packed a bag for her great adventure. All of the important stuff went into that little bag, her teddy bear, sketch book and crayons and she was convinced that was all she needed to survive. She slung the bag over her shoulder and snuck out the back door as quietly as possible. She had to pull on the door handle with all her weight but finally she heard the tiny click that meant the door was tightly closed. Then she giddily ran across the long grass in our backyard as their three dogs ran excitedly in circles around her feet.
She climbed over the low metal gate because the grass was so long from weeks of neglect that rusted gate would not open anymore. Once she was over the gate the world was at her fingertips and she enthusiastically made her way into the tangle of forest. Her mom had warned her never to go into the woods, there were tics and snakes and possibly other wild animals that were sure to bring her harm. But she wasn’t scared; she was confident she would be safe. Protected by that invisible shield that all children under a certain age believe they have. After a few minutes she came across the most wonderful fort. It was her own private sanctuary, a castle for a princess, a ship for a warrior, and she had decided it would be her new home. She climbed the wooden rails and lay out on the weather beaten wood and drew in her sketchbook for what seemed like hours to her but was really more like forty five minutes. She suddenly realized she didn’t bring any food and she missed her mom horribly, so she headed back home.
Those forty five glorious minutes ended up being the most exciting and liberating minutes of her life. She was in charge of herself and she could do anything she wanted. She could live there forever and no one would ever know! She knew what it was like to be an adult, and it was the most amazing feeling ever. When she snuck back into the house she heard her mom asking her dad where she was.
“She’s down the street at a friend’s...Jennifer, I think?” he grumbled before finishing off his beer.
“Her name is Jessica” Norah said walking into the room. It wasn’t technically lying, her name really was Jessica, not Jennifer, and she didn’t actually say she was at Jessica’s house. She wasn’t going to tell him where she really was, it was her secret and she didn’t want to share it with anyone. No one ever knew she was roaming the woods that day. It was an exhilarating feeling knowing that she was by herself and no one knew where she was. It was her first taste of freedom. She have spent her entire life trying to get that feeling back.
Norah tightened her laces on her favorite, worn, high-top red converse sneakers and pulled her wild red hair in a low ponytail. She was now twelve years old and had nearly forgotten her moment of freedom in the woods. It was excruciatingly hot today and the humidity curled her hair and it refused to be tamed. She opened her bedroom window hoping the breeze would make it less stifling. It didn’t.
She opened her shoe box and counted her money like she did every day, eighteen dollars and twenty seven cents. She just needed twenty to join the art club and get a whole set of new art supplies. She saved up enough to join last year but after giving her money to her dad, had never received anything in the mail as the advertisement promised. Once she asked her dad what happened to her money and he told her it probably got lost in the mail, she never really believed that.
She wanted more than anything to be an artist when she grew up, more specifically and illustrator for children’s books, but her parents never had the money to buy her any art supplies. So she started saving money by collecting soda cans and redeeming them for money. She would walk around her little neighborhood picking up any cans she could find, smashing it under her shoe and throw it in her little red wagon. After her dad left she snuck into his workshop in the back yard, which was usually forbidden. Inside she found mountains of beer cans everywhere; she thought she had hit the jackpot! After spending all day cleaning and smashing each can individually and taking trash bags full of cans in to be weighed she only ended up with seven dollars and thirty five cents.
Now, she tucked her eighteen dollars into the pocket of her worn jean shorts, throwing the change on her dresser and grabbed a book. She was planning on asking her mom for the remaining two dollars for the art supplies when she got home from work. Norah sat on the hard wood floor in the living room in front of the fan and opened her book. It was way too hot for anything else, but to read.
After an hour of escaping into the magical world of her book, Norah stuck the folded up Art Club advertisement in the book to mark her place and snapped it shut, wiping the sweat that was beading on her forehead with the pack of her hand. She lay back on the cool hardwood floor and listened. No longer could she hear the low hum of the air conditioner, it stopped working at the beginning of summer, no longer could she hear her mom humming in the kitchen as she baked cookies and prepared dinner. The house was just too quiet for her anymore, and she felt like the quiet was suffocating her and forcing her to think of how things used to be, and she didn’t want to be reminded of how much her life had changed.
Since her dad left, her mom had to get two jobs, which meant she was never here anymore. She worked at a Gypsum mill making drywall during the day. She would come home with dust covering everything and smelling of the chalk that Norah’s teachers used to write on the blackboard. In the evening she worked at a nursing home for the elderly, Norah silently wondered why no one would pay her to take care of her own house. Their house had fallen into disarray the past few months. Laundry was piled in the bathroom and hallway, dishes sat, stinking and spoiling, in the sink and a thick layer of dust covered almost everything. Gone were the delicious meals Norah’s mom spent all day cooking and the mouth-watering desserts that could brighten any horrible day. Now the fridge was stocked with microwaveable dinners and the cupboards full of cheap, packaged snacks.
Norah walked out of the house and headed for her favorite cherry tree in the backyard. She liked to climb the tree and read all day long, eating the sour cherries that grew in the summer. She was disappointed and angry to find that Lilly was in the back with her newest boyfriend, Tom. Lilly was laid out on a lawn chair in the tiniest blue bikini Norah had ever seen. Her mother would never let her wear that if she were home to notice. Norah desperately wanted to be like her sister. Lilly had long legs and curves. Unlike Norah, she had smooth blonde hair and not a freckle on her face. Once when Norah was younger she asked Lilly how she got rid of her freckles and Lilly snidely told her she used lemon juice. Norah scrubbed her face with lemons until her skin was bright red and sore, but the freckles didn’t budge.
Norah liked Tom, he was okay, for a guy, and he came and mowed their lawn for free. Lilly was supposed to be watching Norah while her mom was at work but most of the time she invited Tom over and spent the day draped over him kissing and hugging him. Norah thought it was a little disgusting and swore she would never do that to a boy. She didn’t think she would ever have to worry about it since she planned on never getting married. Boys were gross and ended up like her father. She never wanted to live with a man again.
Her dad used come home every day, grab a beer from the fridge and disappear into his workshop in the back yard or in front of the television and no one would see or hear from him for hours. Unless, of course, Lilly or Norah was bad, then he would yell and throw things, grab them by the hair and throw them down on the floor. He would get inches from their faces and yell so the spit would fall on their faces and they would freeze in fear. Then he would whip them with his belt and they wouldn’t be able to sit for days.
Then one day, he came home and didn’t go immediately for the fridge for a beer. He called Norah and Lilly into the living room and told them they were going shopping. They went to the mall and bought expensive gifts, anything they wanted. Norah picked out her trusty red converse sneakers. Of course, at the time, she didn’t love them like she does now. She still remembered how he never took her to buy shoes the day she ran away. So she made sure she picked ones that he would have never bought her before. She expected him to tell her to put them back and find something cheaper, something that would match the rest of her clothes, but he just smiled and hugged her and brought them to the counter to pay for them.
Then he took them out for dinner, McDonald’s and ordered cheeseburger happy meals even though they were way too old for happy meals. Over burgers and French fries, surrounded by screaming kids, he told them that their mom had asked for a divorce. They didn’t cry. He expected tears and hugs and for them to beg him to stay. They just sat there, refusing to look at him. Lilly sat at the table picking at a nail and hummed to the song playing over the speakers. Norah wanted to cry, felt like she should, but the tears didn’t come. Then he simply disappeared overnight and they haven’t seen him since, even though their mom told them he lives in an apartment only a few miles away.
Wanting to avoid the kiss-fest going on in the backyard, Norah turned and decided to sit on the front porch. She picked at a small hole in her right shoe, not feeling like reading anymore. These were the only pair of shoes she wore anymore. They were her favorites, but they were getting a little worn. The shoelaces were frayed and the fabric was tearing. The soles were smooth and there was a small hole forming under her left big toe.
Just then her mom pulled up in her rusty red car. The tires screeched as if they were in pain as she turned into the driveway. Norah jumped up and walked over to greet her, preparing herself to ask for the two dollars she still needed. She opened the car door and stood in a cloud of gypsum dust, looking as if she had just stepped out of a snow storm.
“Hey Norah, how are you doing today?” she said brushing the dust off her jeans, and kneeling over to tie a shoe.
“Mom, can I have two dollars?” Norah pleaded.
She looked down at Norah’s shoes as she stood up, taking in the holes and frayed laces, “Norah, honey, do you need new shoes?”
“No, mom, these are fine.” I said digging my toe into the dirt. “Can I have two dollars?”
“I will have to figure out how to get you some shoes before school starts.” She said walking towards the door.
“No, mom, I like these shoes, they are fine.” Norah whined, getting annoyed.
“We’ll go to Wal-Mart on my day off and get you something, okay?” She said tucking her coppery hair behind her ear.
“Mo-om, I don’t want crappy Wal-Mart shoes, I like these. I want more like these.” she snapped.
Her mom shot her a look that rivaled Medusa, “Norah, I can’t afford those shoes like your father can.” She said your father like it tasted bad. “And do not talk like that, I didn’t teach you to talk like that.” Norah stood staring at her, shocked; she wasn’t used to hearing her snap at her like that. Her mom was usually a bright ball of sunshine, always trying to sugar-coat things like her desserts.
She stormed inside as the dust from her clothes swirled around her in the wind and the screen door slammed behind her. Norah sat on the porch feeling guilty for breaking down her mother’s sunny nature. She didn’t like to disappoint her mom. It hurt more to see that look of disappointment in her eyes now than when her dad used to whip her with the belt. After a few minutes, Norah stood up and went inside, fighting back tears. Her mother had already changed her clothes and brushed most of the dust from her hair.
“Sorry, Norah, I didn’t mean to yell at you. It was just a busy day at the factory. How about we all go get frozen yogurt for a snack before I have to go to my other job?” She smiled brightly and Norah felt relieved that she didn’t completely crush her mom. “You go find Lilly and tell her Tom has to go home and then we will go, okay?”
About thirty minutes later they piled into the tiny car. Norah’s mom turned the key and the car sputtered and groaned, puffing out small clouds of smoke. She took a deep breath and tried it again. It sputtered to life and she pulled out of the driveway and headed for the new frozen yogurt shop that recently opened a few miles away.
They pulled into the parking lot and entered the shop. They were immediately overwhelmed by the unique mixture of scents. There was a clean fresh oaky smell from the handmade wooden benches and the smell of fresh paint from the bright squares of pink, yellow and green on the walls. The smells of frozen yogurt hung thickly in the air mixing with the smell of fresh waffle cones, a heavenly mixture of double Dutch chocolate, vanilla, strawberry and many more delicious flavors. Happy oldies music played through the speakers as Lilly crossed her arms in boredom and studied the menu and Norah reached out to grab her mom’s hand.
“Well, kids, what’ll it be?” mom said cheerily.
A girl about Lilly’s age stood primly behind the counter. She wore her bleach blonde hair perfectly curled and looked down at them with boredom as she tapped one perfectly filed purple fingernail on the bright pink Formica counter.
“I will have a vanilla-chocolate swirl.” Lilly said with a sigh and turned to find an empty table.
“Double Dutch chocolate,” Norah said with a smile, trying her best to make her mom forget about her earlier outburst in the hopes she could still convince her to give her two dollars.
“And I will just have vanilla.”
“Okay, that will be nine dollars even” Blondie said as she examined her nails.
“Nine dollars for frozen yogurt?” her mother laughed, “I guess the economy really does affect everything, huh?” The girl shrugged, bored.
My mom dug around in her purse and brought out a handful of crumpled bills. The girl scooped it up and smoothed each dollar bill one by one, counting out loud with each dollar.
“That’s only six dollars,” the girl said clearly getting annoyed. She continued digging around in her purse when it slipped off the counter and flipped through the air, landing upside down on the floor at her feet. The contents of her purse flew everywhere and change landed like rain on the floor, scattering out of reach. Lilly sunk low in the bench hiding her face.
Her mom dropped to her knees and hurriedly scooped up all that she could reach and started clumsily dumping it in her purse. Norah bent down to help her and was surprised to see tears running down her face. She sniffed and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. Norah fished out three crumpled dollar bills from the mess on the floor and threw them on the counter glaring at the girl behind the counter.
“It’s okay, mom. Don’t cry.” Norah whispered to her as she retrieved the last of the loose change.
“If I could just get that damn bastard to pay child support…” She mumbled under her breath then wiped her eyes, took a deep breath and stood up.
They took a seat at a table across from Lilly who was now staring, embarrassed, out the window. Her mother seemed to instinctively pick up on her need to be left alone.
The girl behind the counter brought us our cones of freshly scooped frozen yogurt and we sat quietly licking the melting, sticky sweet treats as they dripped down our hands. Norah watched as her mom closed her eyes a moment and took a deep breath, relishing in the moment of self-indulgence.
“Hey Lilly,” she said cheerily, opening her eyes, “Why don’t you come and join us?” Lilly rolled her eyes and got up and walked out of the shop where she leaned on the hood of their car and finished her cone. Her mom stared at her for several seconds with a frown and suddenly she looked much older to Norah, she no longer looked like the youthful, easy-spirited mother she knew her whole life. Her mother sighed and stood up, dumping the remainder of her cone in a nearby trash can.
“Norah, honey, keep an eye on my purse while I go to the bathroom, okay?” Norah nodded and pulled her purse closer to her as she bit off the end of the cone. She let the melted sweetness drip into my mouth and then popped the rest of the cone into her mouth, chewing slowly and savoring the last of the gooey goodness.
Norah peeked into the tangled mess of her mother’s purse. Out of curiosity, she pulled her wallet out and opened it discreetly beneath the table, looking around to make sure no one was watching her. It was empty of everything besides her mother’s driver’s license, several credit cards that had been cut in half, and a card with the smiling face of a man that had an awful poof of white hair on his head. “Olson Family Law” the card read in bold black letters, “Representing the future of your family.” Norah slipped the card back into the slot wondering what kind of miracles Mr. Olson could perform on their screwed up family. She frowned and closed the wallet, replacing it back in the purse.
She pulled out her art club money from her jeans pocket and balled up each dollar bill separately and hid each one in a different place in her purse. Norah imagined her mom searching for money one day only to find eighteen extra dollars that she hadn’t known she had. She imagined her mom smiling happily like she used to and treating herself to lunch. Norah wouldn’t tell her she put the money in there, she would just let her mom think that it had appeared their by magic.
Her mother came out of the bathroom with her face red and swollen. Mascara smudged under her eyes. She wiped at them and tucked her hair behind her ears. She smoothed her shirt and glanced at her watch.
“Well, Norah, it’s almost time for me to head back to work again.” She sighed and they began making their way to the door as Norah stared down at her old shoes. Suddenly, Norah stopped and pulled lightly on her mom’s shirt.
“Hey, mom, I have to go to the bathroom.” Norah refused to look her in the eye, afraid she would see right through her lie.
“Okay, but be quick” she smiled, waving her off.
Norah ran to the bathroom and sat down on the cool tiled floor. She wished that we had air conditioning at our house like this. It felt amazing and she thought that she would be happy to live in this bathroom for the rest of the summer. She untied the laces of her shoes and slipped them off her feet. She ran her hands across the smooth soles and stuck her finger threw the worn holes. They weren’t as bright red as they were when she bought them. She pulled tightly on the frayed laces and tied the shoes together in a neat little bundle and cradled them for a moment, like a baby, and twirled the laces around her finger. Then she hugged them tightly to her chest.
She stood up and dumped them in the trash can and walked out of the bathroom feeling a tiny bit of loss but not a bit of regret. The girl behind the counter looked up as Norah passed her and then looked down at her shoeless feet. She arched one brow and frowned and Norah crossed her arms and looked at her, daring the girl to question her. She flipped her curled hair over her shoulder and rolled her eyes before grabbing a nail file and focusing her attention on her nails. Norah turned and bounced out the door and into the car with bare feet and was thrilled to feel the rush of blood through her veins that she had only felt once before, when she was in the second grade, running wildly through the tangled forest. She was running madly towards her sanctuary, her freedom, her castle in the trees.
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