Just What I Needed

June 7

After I left the bowling alley last Friday night, I wandered along the beach for a few hours. 

"Where have you been all night?" Dad caught me trying to sneak in past midnight. "Do you know what time it is?"

"As if you care that I come home late. If you hadn't wandered out of the study just now, you wouldn't have even known whether I was home or not," I matched his tone back and stormed off to my room, shutting the door loudly.

I think he was just trying to show Thor that some semblance of structure existed in our house. I'm sure the giant overheard us, if he was still awake at that time. If he wasn't surely my door slam was enough to wake him.

I spent the last week trying to avoid both of them.

I cautiously opened my bedroom door and peeked out, just as I had for the last few days. So far, I had managed to avoid anyone by either leaving before they got up or waiting until they were out of the house.

I walked to the kitchen and slapped together a peanut butter sandwich, grabbed an apple and a bottle of water, threw them into my backpack and set out for the day. Another day, another successful avoidance.

In addition to avoiding the people in my own house, I had also managed to avoid Scotty and the Ditzy Duo. It was bad enough that I was going to have to be stuck on the summer party planning committee, I didn't really want to be chummy with them the rest of the time. I really wasn't into chasing down rich boys on the beach this year.

"Morning, hun," Barb greeted me as I entered the bowling alley doors. The hum of the floor polisher at the far lane was the only sound filling the building at this time of the day.

After I left the alley last week, I returned the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that.

"Well if you're just going to sit around here all mopey, you'd better at least be productive," Barb said to me after my fourth consecutive day.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I could use some extra help around here. So if you're going to keep coming back, I can't have you just sitting here, staring at people and being all creepy," she replied.

"I am not creepy!"

She was right though. I was being weird and creepy. What kind of girl voluntarily sits in the dark corner of a bowling alley day after day, watching other people have fun when she could be out on the beach, like a normal teenager, laughing with her friends and playing in the surf. I looked down at my clothes. Black on black. I hadn't even bothered to brush my hair or put on makeup, so my clothes probably matched the dark circles under my eyes.

Barb sighed and handed me a bottle of disinfectant. "Hop behind the counter and make yourself useful. Start by disinfecting all of the shoes."

I sighed but at least doing something with a semblance of purpose kept my mind busy enough that I started to forget about being sad all of the time.

After finishing the shoes, Barb assigned me to do menial cleaning duties to fill the time. The best part was that I didn't have to talk to anyone, even when the alley was open. No one wants to chat with the cleaning staff.

At first I thought Barb was a little rough around the edges but when she smiled at me her expression was warm. She always wore her long, graying hair in a tight bun and her blue eye liner winged, which emphasized the crinkling in the crows' feet in the corners of her eyes when she laughed. She never asked me any questions as to why I came so often or why I wasn't hanging out on the beach with the other townies.

It was actually kind of nice to not be known. Everywhere else in this town locals looked at me with pity in their eyes. There's the girl who lost her mom and brother in a car accident. Isn't that a shame? Doesn't she look sad?

The reflection of sunlight on the counter bounced as someone entered the doors to the bowling alley this morning. I looked up to call out that we didn't open for another half hour when I instantly recognized the tall, blocky frame and long blonde hair.

"Oh God," I muttered under my breath and ran out from behind the counters and straight into the ladies' room. I don't know why I went into a stall and closed the door. Somehow, like the bench wedged against the shed door, it seemed like an extra layer of security.

I held my breath and waited in silence as if I expected him to follow me in like some kind of stalker in a horror movie.

"Hun?" Barb called out as she entered the bathroom. "You ok? Look like you seen a ghost."

I unlocked the stall and stepped out. "I'm fine."

Barb folded her arms and looked at me skeptically.

"Want to tell me who that nice young man was that came in?"

"I don't know him," I walked over to the sink and turned on the tap, washing my hands..

"Sure? Seemed like he knew who you were. He mentioned your name."

I saw my shoulders slouch in the reflection of the mirror.

"Did he ask about me?"

"Did you want him to ask about you, hun?"

"He lives at my house. Temporarily. I know him, but I don't know him. I don't want to know him. He's playing for the Royals ball club and my dad thought it would be a good idea to billet him and pretend we're one big happy family. Only we're not. My dad hides in his stupid office all the time and plays online poker and ignores me like nothing bad ever happened. He doesn't even care. He doesn't even care that Nicky and my mom are gone," The words were spilling out, quickly followed by an outpouring of tears. I didn't mean to spill my guts, but once I started one sentence, another followed and next thing you know, I couldn't stop myself from telling Barb the whole backstory about my brother and the accident.

Barb wrapped her arms around me and just held me while I continued to bawl.

"It's going to be ok, hun," Barb gently rocked her weight back and forth. "I remember your brother. He used to come in here all time. We had some real interesting conversations. He was a real nice fella. I knew you'd talk about it when you were ready. I'm sad about it too."

Her statements were simple but they conveyed more emotion and sensitivity than anything I had experienced at home or among my friends.

I raised my head off her shoulder and noticed for the first time how blue her eyes were and it wasn't just a reflection of her eye-liner. She was tearing up too and the redness of her eyes made the blue of her irises stand out. I had always thought Barb was in her late fifties but now looking at her face-to-face, even as tears stained her cheeks, I'd say she was ten years younger. Her face was just tired. I knew the feeling.

"Come on now, those tables aren't going to wipe themselves. Clean yourself up and come back out when you're ready," Barb wiped the tears from my cheeks, gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze and headed back out into the alley. "That nice young man left, so you're safe to come out."

"Pull yourself together," I said to my reflection in the mirror. In my overheated state of crying, my hair had become frizzy and bags had formed under my eyes from the salty tears. I splashed some cold water on my face and used the elastic band around my wrist to tie my hair up.

Barb left me to myself for the remainder of my shift as I worked away on autopilot, ignoring the patrons but cleaning away their mess, sanitizing their shoes, wiping down their machines.

"Before you go," Barb said to me as I was about to walk out at the end of my shift. "For what it's worth, it might not be so bad to try to get to know that young fella at your house. He's real nice on the eyes and hella polite. And it seems to me, you could use some friends your own age. Hanging around here day after day, avoiding the public isn't going to do you much good."

I mustered a half smile and left without a word.

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What do you think about Jordan hanging out in the dark bowling alley in the summer? Do you like the character of Barb?

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