I Did(n't Do) It

Chapter 23: Nostalgia (1/4)

 Violet stared at the white tents all lined up in the parking lot.

"It is use to be so easy to find parking here." Her mother muttered, looking around at all the cars. "It seems to have gotten more and more people every year!"

"Hipsters, Mother" Violet pointed out, "Hipsters everywhere."

Margaret finally found a spot in the back, pulling in and parking her car. She put a stray piece of Violet's hair behind her ear, "Aren't you excited?" She asked, getting out of the car.

"Of course!" Violet paused when she got out of the car, the bright lights and soft breeze flooded her mind with memories of when Eric took her to the carnival.

"What was that?" Violet asked

"What?" Eric looked puzzled.

"Your whole personality changed. That man, picking up the boy and slamming him against this ride, that was not you, Eric."

But it was him. Violet countered, her thoughts racing through every bruise, every scream — That was Eric.

"Violet?" Her mother's voice invaded Violet's mind, fortunately yanking her back to the Extravaganza.

"Hm?" Violet asked

"Come on, the line is building up." Her mother smiled, grabbing her hand and weaving through the cars.

"What color is your ticket?" A long-limbed man asked, leaning down.

"Blue and yellow."

"Perfect — it looks like you have one of our VIP tickets!" He said, smiling at Margaret and Violet. "Come this way, please!"

Margaret's face lit up, "Skip the line?!" She said excitedly, looking back at Violet.

"Yes, ma'am" The man said, gesturing inside, "Just walk on in."

Her mother gripped the straps of her purse, walking confidently in to the festivities that lay ahead.

"Wow!" Violet said, matching her stride and enthusiastic, "VIP tickets! I don't think that has ever happened before — Ever."

"I know!" Her mother agreed, "This night is just going to keep getting better and better. I promise."

The smell of freshly cut grass took over the crisp air, a fire crackled in the distance. Violet smiled looking over to see two police officers talking, the shorter one glanced at her, Violet shifted uncomfortably, breaking eye contact that lasted a little too long.

"I remember..." Margaret said, her pace slowing, "Every time we used to come here, you would always have a caricature done — I think I still have them at the house."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Violet asked, looking around and spotting a drawing booth, "Let's go!" She grabbed her moms hand and pulled her over to it. They passed the couple who just finished their drawings, his thickly brimmed glasses perched on an equally big nose, underneath that was a genuine smile. While his wife had small glasses, atop a small nose — but her smile was just as bright.

Violet handed the woman $20, "For my mother and I, please."

"Take a seat!" The girl put the money in her pocket, smiling at Violet.

Violet looked at her mother, patting the seat next to her.

"Huh? Oh, no, I can't." Margaret shook her head and put her hand up in protest. "You go along — I can wait."

The artist looked between them, then back at her set of pastels. "Here," She handed the money back to Violet and looked over at Margaret, "go join! Free of charge."

"I..."

"Please." She said, picking out the colors. "I insist."

"Are you sure?" Margaret asked, taking a hesitant step forward.

"Of course." She replied, getting up and walking Margaret over to sit next to her daughter. "I love my line of work, but I also love to see people happy. This makes people happy."

"Thank you." Violet mouthed to the girl, smiling and scooting closer to her Mother.

"Now," She perched herself back behind her easel, "get comfortable. This might take awhile." She winked, laughing before studying Violet and Margaret, slowly stroking a marker across the canvas.