(Reconstructing)Sharing A Damaged Memory

Chapter 2-More like 'Hag n' Hirsute'.

And then I was out. I considered putting my years of track-team wisdom to use but that wouldn't be very graceful.

I tied Salad to the railing but not too tightly because I still needed a game plan. What if the guy was really cross with me? What if he decided to chase me down the road and beat me up? Okay, probably he won't do that but it does not hurt to have a plan, right?

"Sally, wait here for me okay? I won't take long and if the guy chases me just make a run for it when I shout, 'NOW!' Don't wait for me and don't look back. Don't try to be a hero. Just save yourself. Remember that I will always love you no matter what. Be a good boy and be happy. This might be our last hug....our last goodbye!" I said hugging him tightly.

I know drama flows swifter than blood in me but I can't really help with that.

Ok. Moment of truth. Crack your neck. Learn to take a deep breath in and exhale. Exhale through your nose and not your mouth. You'll be just fine. It is going to be a piece of cake-wait, that's ironic.

I re-entered the café and walked straight those shameless staring strangers.

There were about five guys here and a few girls. Most of them were wearing white T-shirts with some logo printed on the chest pocket and a blue stripe right in the middle. Their bottoms, I couldn't see.

A petite girl with wild curly brown hair was shooting me a sympathetic look like the way executioners do before you know, executing someone.

I cleared my throat and began, "All right. I might have mixed up our orders the other day. I saw yours and thought it was ours and took it back home. With all due respect, I did not intend for that to happen. Blame it on my ignorance."

"You came to pick up a cake and you didn't even know what it was supposed to be?"

"Exactly." I said brightening up. He was so getting my point.

"That's not ignorance. More like idiocy."

Nope, definitely getting my point. I could launch myself on him and claw him but in all fairness, I did lick the last slice of his two-tiered fancy chocolate cake neatly from my plate so I decided to keep shut.

"That cake had been prepared on special order. And I had been very specific about what I wanted and what I did not want on the cake. Incidentally, I forgot to mention that I did not want my cake to be taken by someone else. My bad."

"That's just so wrong. You have been treated with utmost disrespect." I agreed.

He seemed taken aback at that and so did the others because they all went quiet. "You think?" he asked.

"Yes! Back in Mergelle, if you get a cake on special order, they don't ask you to come and collect it. They deliver it to you." I elaborated.

Everyone guffawed.

"In hindsight, I think she did the right thing. Otherwise you would have given the cake to her and seemed like an even bigger loser." Spoke up a cute blonde guy with a baby face slapping Edward on his arms.

"I agree." said another girl with uncombed brunette hair and sharp eyes.

"Shut up, it's my girlfriend you are talking about." He said and then turned back to me again, "That's not the point I am making."

"I'm really sorry."I nodded. "You can ask my brother here." I said grabbing Wes (ruining his chances of winning, 'How well do you know your wall?' championship) and bringing him close to the table.

"Oh yeah...she was reeally guilt-ridden, so much so that she took no part in devouring the pastry. After that episode, she would wake up in the middle of the night and put on her night-gown and cry, 'Out, damned, chocolate stain! Out, I say.' Then she tried to drown herself, and she even started reading a volume of Leo Tolstoy short stories. She just wanted to kill herself." Wes said with dramatic innocence in a way which did not benefit me and just screwed my credibility.

"Ok. While you were there, why did you even bother to leave the sponge cake? What was I supposed to do with that?" the guy continued his interrogation.

Oh FBI, we have the perfect man for you!

"Make baked Alaska?" Wes suggested.

This caused another round of laughter which I found myself being a part of.

"You think you are being hilarious?" enquired Edward looking at us with narrowed eyes.

"He is hilarious!" said the brunette girl from before.

"He wasn't actually trying to be hilarious or being hilarious. That was the original plan- we were going to make Baked Alaska in our home with the sponge cake before I...well, you know, that thing happened."

The way he was glaring at me was intimidating. I almost felt trapped. I considered this the right time to warn Salad. I turned around to look at him for some support, my only support in a café full of strangers but to my utter horror he wasn't there... Salad wasn't there!

"Where did Salad go?" I screamed loud enough to make all the heads turn in my direction. And also loud enough for all those heads to wonder if I was under some medication or if I had just escaped a nut house. At that moment of crisis I learnt three very important lessons of life-

1- My dog's name was not a universally accepted dog's name.

2- A dog should never be underestimated and he should be tied tightly on the railing.

3-Always listen to your father when he says, "Don't get into trouble!"

And there was one more, so make that four. 4- While discussing your accomplishments in the cake stealing department, use soft hushed voices.

I practically ran outside but I couldn't find Salad. Where could he go? Damn! Okay, I needed a plan. I racked my brains and came up with nothing. So Wes and I split ways and decided to search for him. After searching him around for another 10 minutes I gave up.

I sat on the roadside bench letting Wes do the work, and replayed all the happy memories we had shared together. The first time we had brought him home: he was so tiny and yet I had been scared of him. I know I sound totally lame but there is absolutely no sense in being smart when you lose your best friend. I tried very hard not to burst into tears. I remembered the time when we were little and he had pooped all over me and in revenge I had wanted to do the same but my mum had caught me and slapped me. Bittersweet memories. Then there was the time when I was 11 and we had ruined Zooey's 'sweet 16' birthday party. There was also the time...

"Would this be Salad?" a voice interrupted my train of thoughts.

I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I had totally missed a tall figure approaching me.

A voice too familiar. A voice that had been cold and mocking just a while ago.

He raised his eyebrows at me.

"Yes..." I exhaled looking at Salad and hugging him tightly.

I turned to look at him again and noticed he was abnormally tall now that he was standing. I wanted to thank him but he beat me to it.

"Ok. I hope I am done with you here and that I never see you again." He said turning away.

Was it just me or was he being unreasonably mean? It was just a cake, not a 15-carat diamond ring!

I turned back to Salad and patted him, completely worn out. And he responded by licking my palm.

But then he stopped. The guy whose name I didn't know; not Salad. Salad continued like my hand was a meat roll or his testicle, which was something he was fond of more than meat roll itself.

"I didn't catch your name. Not that I care, it's just... are you going to be in Warrelton for long?"

"Charlotte Phillips. And don't worry your cakes are endangered only until the end of summer."

He looked at me indifferently and walked away.

----

Now, there is a remark on Leo Tolstoy, which some people could find offensive. That was not my intention. Because I do like Leo Tolstoy a lot. I have read both his novels and they are really aWesome, if you ignore the length. It's his short stories I have a problem with. I am not very fond of them. If you are, well and good- sorry if you are offended. Don't be pissed at me. Keep an open mind, that's it.

And if there is any error, don't hesitate to point it out.