Sounds are everywhere. They don't necessarily harmonize but in a way they still seem to find a way to sound pleasurable. That's what's cool about Pike Place Market. Nothing fits together perfectly. Everything is sort of just there. Everyone has something to display, whether they have a fruit and vegetable stand or they're just street performers. I always come home with a bag of donuts and a collection of other things. My brother likes the stuff just like I do.
I make all my own money. All the money I have is earned. I have to pay for my brother and I because my uncle could care less what we are up to. I'm still in high school but I've been working at a favorite teen hangout spot since I was thirteen. The owner is more like my father than my uncle is anyway. He even pays me. Or at least he used to. The place isn't making the money it used to so the pay lately has been pretty lousy.
That's why I'm at Pike Place. Starting in October I started playing guitar with my case open for anyone generous enough to drop some cash in. I play every Friday night and Saturday morning. I spend the night on Friday at a cheap local inn. The owner is used to me coming in once a week so he usually lowers the cost of the room if I help clean up the kitchen before I leave. I don't like leaving my brother, who's thirteen, alone with my uncle for even one night so I get him to stay at the place I work. The family lives above the restuarant and lounge so he does have a place to sleep.
"Are you really going to play tonight, Cat?" A familiar voice sounds behind me. "It's supposed to be below freezing by five tonight! Don't suppose there will be snow but it still looks like rain."
I turn around to see my friend, Thomas, in his usual jeans and black t shirt smiling at me.
"Hey Thomas. And yeah I have to play its not like my Uncle's gonna make any money," I tell him.
"Just remember that you can play under cover too. Then me and the other guys can hear you better so its a win-win!" He laughs.
"Of course! Thanks for the offer. If it looks like rain I will move in." I reply.
"Alright well I need to get back to work, see you later, Cat!"
Thomas turns on his heel and walks back to his job, which is just inside the Market. He works at the fish place. Seattle is known for many things including where he works. The famous fish tossing. He once gave me a chance to toss fish with him and I ended up hitting someone in the face. It's a mortifying memory. Thomas is a few years older than me and we became friends quickly after I started playing here. He's twenty two or something like that.
The afternoon goes on and I play song after song. I sing the lyrics and strum strings and all that jazz. Seattle is a fantastic city. I like to believe that if I were playing some place else like Los Angeles or New York City, I wouldn't get as much money as I do in Seattle. Not that I have ever been to either I just believe that Seattlelites just have that understanding and amiable personality.
It's about 6:30 when I finish another song. A crowd has gathered which isn't unusual for most street performers but its an admirable feeling that I can't keep down. I scan the faces of the small crowd and can instantly tell that all of them are from Washington. No sun kissed faces among them.
Or that's what I noticed at first until a guy emerges from the crowd and puts twenty five dollars in my case. He looks about my age and I can tell he was definitely not from around here. He's tan like he got a lot hot sun so naturally I assumed California. It's not often we get any what we call foreigners around here. Seattle is an underrated city when it comes to vacation. It's probably the cold. I have talked to a family from Florida who were visiting their cousins and a man from Arizona on business. I had actually met a number of Californians just looking for snowboarding or skiing opportunities at the Pass.
This guy was definitely from California. He gave me a shy crooked smile, then sheepishly turned around and disappeared into the crowd. I couldn't help but wonder if he was just here on vacation or if he moved here. I ignored my thoughts and played on through the evening, eventually taking cover next to where Thomas worked. He was right. It did start raining.
-
I finish playing at about eight. Everyone packs their stands up about this time. My time at Pike Place is as routine as my time at school, if not more. I say goodbye to Thomas and the other guys he works with and make my way out of the market. A figure cuts my path off and I recognize him instantly.
"You played good tonight, Catherine!" It's Trevor. He's another street performer. He plays banjo and his wife plays fiddle. They're only a few stands down from me and also stay at the same inn as me, except they practically live there. Neither of them went to college because they dropped out of school when they were about as old ad my brother. They're nice people and I have become good friends with them. At first I thought the Inn's owner wouldn't want them there all time but I soon found out that they go way back.
"Hello, Trevor how are you?" I ask politely. Little education or not, he's older and expects good manners.
"I'm alright but this weather will be the death of me!" He shivers, and I can see his breath in the air.
"Yeah it's pretty crummy isn't it? I didn't hear Lexi's fiddle playing today."
"She has a terrible cold so she stayed at the inn today," Trevor worries and I can see his concern is deeper than he lets on. It's definitely a bitter December night and the Inn has crappy heating.
"Well how about I walk to the inn with you and then I can say hello to Lexi too?" I offer.
"Oh, yes! Lexi would love that very much!"
Trevor and I walk the two blocks to the Triscuit Inn (the owner really likes Triscuits) and say hello to Mr. Allen, the owner of the Inn, who as usual, is holding a box of Triscuits.
After saying hello to Lexi and small talking with her and Trevor, I make my way to the room I always stay in and set my stuff down. I undress and put on my Narwhal t shirt and a pair of pj shorts. I spend time looking out the window. I look at a normal Seattle December night. People are rushing about, trying to find cover from the freezing rain that slices through the winter air. Everything is as it always is. My inner child yearns for snow. It's mid December so it's normal to have only rain but I can't help but hope.
My thought are distracted when I see familiar curly light brown hair rushing to a forest green Ford pick up truck with two people who seem to be his parents. It's the boy who gave me the twenty five dollars. The tan boy. His truck's bed is packed tight with furniture covered with a tarp. His mother hops in the passenger seat and his father checks the stuff. The boy is about to get in the middle seat when he happens to look up, right at me. I can see how blue his eyes are even in the dim light of the street lamps.
We stare at each other for minute or two. It's not awkward for me. I have always been good at staring people down. Although right now I don't feel intimidating. I don't really know what I'm feeling or if I'm feeling anything at all.
The boy's attention is diverted back to the car and as he climbs into the car, he looks back to me again, and waves a goodbye. No, more like see you later. Almost like we knew each other or that we were old friends.
I watch as his car drives away in the rain and I can't help but wonder who the tan boy was. He was pretty attractive. I mean he wasn't Calum Hood but he was still cute. I couldn't get his eyes out of my head. They were a bright summer ocean blue and were downright gorgeous.
I shake my head almost as if it will clear the thoughts out of my head. I have too much going on to be thinking about boys.
With that last decision, I climbed into the bed and quickly fell asleep to the sound of rain against the window pane.
A/N: there was a lot going on in this chapter but I really wanted to give off a significant setting and emotion to start off the story! It's gonna be a while for this to get readers but any readers are great! Thanks!
