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The ride to the farmers market should be short, only being about twenty-five minutes away from my house. But me being me, I get lost, taking the wrong turns until I finally just decide to go to the grocery store first since I somehow ended up on Marv Ave.
I secure my bike to the rack outside the small family owned grocery store, with the old lock I haven't used since junior high. The store doesn't seem too busy seeing as it's a beautiful day out, most people out enjoying it. I purchase the three chicken breasts my mom requested before deciding on treating myself to a bottled Coke and a bag of Munchies Cheetos.
"That's a nice camera," The older man working the cash register says as he scans my items.
"Thanks," I say pulling out my money.
"My daughter has one just like it, she loves taking pictures and all that," He says putting my money into the register,"Have a good day now."
"You too," I say, stuffing the chicken into my backpack in a way I know would make my mother cringe if she were here to see. But honestly, where else am I suppose to keep this raw chicken? I don't have some frilly basket on my bike to help carry all this stuff my mom wants me picking up.
I sit on the curb of the grocery store after cracking the top lid of my coke off, opening my bag of chips. I'm pretty sure a bowl of Cherrios, Cheetos and Coke isn't exactly what my mom had in mind when she told me to feed myself. But this is what you get when you leave me to fiend for my own meal, the easiest, simplest, junkiest foods will suffice.
Once my Cheeto bag is empty, and my fingers stained red from the chile powder, I throw out my garbage into the nearest can on the way to my bike deciding it's time to go to the farmers market. I stop to take a picture of the grocery store noting how old fashioned it looks, reeking of personality that most chain grocery stores lack.
I pass several unfamiliar streets until I finally reach Elton Street where the farmers market is. Thankfully this time I find it with ease, only wasting about ten minutes to get here. It's just as crowded as I expected on a Sunday, and I'm already bothered. It must be my lack of nutritious food in my system that's making me feel h-angry.
I'm almost sure that if you looked inside my body you'd see my heart pumping soda into my veins running off of candy and greasy foods. I should probably buy a banana or something, just so I can have something healthy in my body before I inhale an entire pizza in a few hours.
I lock my bike on the rack near the parking lot, tugging the straps of my backpack as I trudge along the sidewalk towards the entrance brushing shoulders with hipsters and old people. God riding a bike is such a work out, I'm already regretting the ride home.
The first fruit I lay eyes on is a banana so I decided to get one, eating it while I try to find that list my mom left me. After looking through my backpack and every pocket on me, I toss the banana peel in the trash finally accepting the fact that that list is long gone now.
The only item I seem to remember from the list I've magically missed placed, are cucumbers. I go through multiple tent aisles looking for the dark green veggie, until I see a LEMONS sign and suddenly remember my mom asked for those too. 2 for 3 isn't bad..or was it 2 for 4?
I snap a shot of the vibrant yellow lemons piled neatly in a woven basket, before grabbing a plastic clear bag. I have no clue how to choose 'good lemons' so I grab the first five that catch my eye from the top of the pile.
I hand the bag over to the smiley older woman so that she can weigh it.
"Do you know where they sell the cucumbers, by any chance?" I ask the woman, deciding it's better to ask then to wander aimlessly through the aisles. I just want to get home as soon as possible, I've already spent too much time outside today.
"There's a nice stand right across, it's about two tents over," She tells me, handing me back my change, her other hand pointed in the direction she's talking about.
"Thanks," I smile taking the change and shoving it into my pocket. I toss the bag of lemons into my backpack on top of the chicken, and walk across the cement walkway before stopping.
You've got to be kidding, I think to myself when I see the girl from the restaurant standing with a woman choosing cucumbers. How small is this town?
"Those aren't any good, grab a few near the bottom, hurry now," I hear the woman say to the girl as I near closer.
"They all look exactly the same," She says with a quizzical look on her face, putting the cucumbers back down.
"The ones at the bottom of the pile look best, choose one of those and meet me near the carrots,"Her mother I assume, says, nervously glancing down at her cell phone, "Your father should be home soon and you know how he hates to wait on his lunch."
I pretend to be interested in the potatoes just so I can stand in the busy tent next to her, simply watching her. Then watching turns into picture taking, discretely between strangers shoulders.
She's sifting through the top pile, studying the outer skin of each cucumber before following her mother's advice, choosing a cucumber from the bottom of the pile.
The second she pulls that cucumber from the pile, all the others tumble to the floor, rolling all over. I take a picture at the perfect moment, just as the first cucumber fell, her face completely caught off gaurd.
"Shit," I hear her mutter, dropping to her knees to pick them up quickly. I watch her for a few minutes wondering if anyone else will help, but no. Everyone just steps over the mess giving her a look only making her cheeks redder. Feeling bad I walk over and drop to my knees to help her.
"Thanks," She says not bothering to look up at me, her long hair flowing around in every direction around her face as she collects the cucumbers.
"Honey, what on earth are you doing on the floor," Her mother sighs, a bag of carrots in her hand, her face completely annoyed.
"I dropped the..."
"We need to go, we don't have time for you to joke around," Her mother tells her, cutting her off before she can even finish. She then walks away, the bag swinging in her hand.
"I'll pick them up," I tell her, noting the worried look on her face as she tries to pick up more cucumbers only to drop them down again from how full her hands are. Her mom clearly is in a rush and I don't mind.
"Really?" She says sounding relieved, looking over at me.
"Yea, I got it," I say wondering if she remembers me from yesterday.
"Thank you so much," She says before quickly getting up and following behind her mother. I guess she didn't remember me.
I pick the remainder of the cucumbers up from the floor and stand, noticing the owner staring at me now that the other customer he was helping has left.
"Did you drop these?" He asks me pointing to the pile of cucumbers I've put together on the table.
"Yea, they kinda just all fell," I tell him dusting off my knees.
"You'll have to pay for them then," He says sternly.
"What? Why?" I say looking down at the cucumbers. There are at least twenty plus that fell. What the hell am I going to do with twenty cucumbers?
"You drop it you buy it."
"But it was an accident," I say hoping he can make an exception.
"Sorry kid, rules are rules," He shrugs.
"Alright," I huff. I watch as the owner bags up all my cucumbers before giving me the price.
"What am I going to do with all these cucumbers?" I can't help but to say as I hand over my money.
"Open a day spa, make a salad, I don't know," The owner laughs. I have the strong urge to say that maybe I'll just shove them up his ass but I decide against it so I can just get the hell out of here.
I shove the bag of cucumbers into my backpack as best I can, the zipper remaining slighting opened because it wouldn't zip all the way.
I return to the bike rack only to see my bike is no longer there, just my stupid lock, which apparently is piece of shït because someone managed to steal my fücking bike.
I can't believe this. I can't believe someone would steal my old shitty bike. Now I have to walk all the way to my house with a backpack full of fûcking cucumbers and raw chicken which will probably spoil on my slow walk home in the sun.
Great. Just fucking great.
____________
As my tired legs finally turn on my street it's already about three nearly four in the afternoon. I'm beyond hungry and pissed. I could have been home like an hour ago if I had car.
"Hello?" I answer into my cell phone.
"Where are you sweetie? Did you find something fun to do?" My mom asks enthusiastically, the sound of a door shutting in the background.
"I'm almost home," I mutter before hanging up.
I'm about three houses away from my own when I see her. She's unlocking the front door of the house right next to mine, with a Nordstrom's shopping bag in her other hand.
She's no longer wearing the same clothes from the farmers market, she's now wearing something meant to come across as dresser. I slow my pace down watching her stand in the doorway of the now open front door. She's looking in what looks like my direction. Maybe she does remember me.
"Babe, did you want me to leave you a few of these sour rope candies or can I keep them all?" A male's voice says, shutting the SUV car door.
"I'm not your 'babe' and it's fine I don't really like them. You keep them," The girl from the restaurant says, her eyes still fixed on the same direction only now I know she wasn't looking at me but at him.
"You'll be my babe soon enough," The guy laughs, walking over to her,"Is your dad home?"
"No he's out with my mom, they went to some festival downtown," She says looking slightly distraught,"Just take your shoes off and leave them right here. I just washed the carpet."
I look away, the girl and her guest no longer outside, the door shut. I notice across the street at the very end theirs a boy sitting on the sidewalk with a basketball in between his legs simply staring in my direction. Weirdo.
I push open the front door expecting to smell dinner but there isn't a single whiff in the air. Thats when I remember I have dinner in my backpack: the chicken.
"Harry, finally you're home, where's the chicken so I can start on dinner," My mom asks when she sees me walk into the kitchen.
I don't answer, seeing as I'm still in a bad mood, I simple remove my backpack and place it onto the counter. I then walk over to the fridge and pull out a Gatorade, chugging down half the bottle.
"Why Did you buy so many cucumbers?" She asks me as she unpacks the items from my backpack,"And the tomatoes, where are they?"
"I forgot," I sigh, having a seat on the stool.
"I left you a list so you wouldn't," Mom says shaking her head at me. I sit in the kitchen while she walks around the kitchen preparing the dinner. My legs are too tired to get up and take me up stairs, and my body is too hungry to leave the kitchen on an empty stomach.
"So how was you're day?" Mom asks, putting pinches of seasonings into the pan over the chicken.
"Shit, Anne. It was shit," I say staring blankly at nothing.
"Why? What happened?" She asks looking at me with concern.
"Someone stole my bike at the farmers market. Oh and the asshole at the cucumber stand made me buy all these," I say pushing the bag of cucumbers over across the counter slightly.
"Someone stole your bike? Did you remember to l..."
"Lock it? Yea." I say getting up from the stole to grab something to snack on. Who knows how long this 'fancy chicken' will take to be done.
"I'll buy you a new one, don't worry," Mom says, clearly missing the point.
"I don't want a new bike Anne, I want a car," I huff pulling the tray of Oreos from out of the cabinet.
"Tough luck," She simply says,"And don't go eating all of the cookies, I don't want you to spoil your dinner."
"I'll try, Anne," I say heading up the stairs to my bedroom.
I can tell I've already pissed her off for the night by calling her 'Anne' three times. She always says it's 'extremely disrespectful' but I don't see it that way.
You see, I love my mom more then my own life. Without her, I'd have nothing, and I'd be no where. We've been through hell and back after all the issues with my father and I just hope one day she realizes how appreciative I am of her for making sure I lived a good life. We're extremely close because of it, and whether she realizes it or not, she's my best friend. I just communicate it differently. I call her Anne because we have such a close personal bond that I feel like the title 'mom' just won't suffice. Kids call their regular mom's mom but my mom isn't just a regular mom she's beyond it.
I toss the tray of cookies onto my bed and open the blinds of my window just to get some natural light in. I munch down on a Oreo as struggle to prop open my window to air out the stuffy smell when I see her.
Her bedroom window is directly across from mine on the second floor. She has her window wide open, the curtains peeking from the sides. I can feel my mouth getting dry as I watch, unable to look away from what I am seeing.
She's making out with the guy she arrived with. They're propped together on the tiny looking bed, kissing. No actually, making out. They're making out to the point where it looks like they're about to fûck. Her short skirt ridding up higher and higher as the guy rubs his hands against her thigh. She breaks away from the kiss, muttering something to him before kissing him again. He then moves his hand from her thigh to her shirt hem.
The guy practically has her shirt completely off when suddenly they stop. She looks around the room before picking her phone up, putting it against her ear.
The guy sits on the bed impatiently watching her with boner I can see from here through his khaki pants. Once she puts the phone back down she adjusts her shirt so that it's resting on her body the way it should. She says something to the guy, something that makes him look bothered before nodding his head. I watch as the two of them exit the room, and soon enough I see the guy walking back to his car, waving goodbye.
I remove my camera from my neck, wiping the Oreo cookie residue on my pants, ready to use it.I see her return to her room, shutting the door. She stands against the closed door, before allowing her back to slide down to the floor. She wraps her arms around her knees.
I lift my camera up and zoom in. I can see she's crying. She sits the same way for what feels like hours, and all I do is watch her. I watch her for as long as she stays seated there. She suddenly gets up from the floor, and walks over to the side of the room that I can't see.
She then walks back topless, making my eyes widen. Fuck this is so wrong. Why am I still watching her?
She stares at herself in what I assume is her mirror, sliding one of her bra straps to the side to reveal a large scratch. She looks at it for a minute before grabbing something from her desk, rubbing it all over the scratch. She then moves on to something underneath her skirt about mid- way to her pelvic bone: a bruise. The bruise is purple, green in some areas letting me know it's old. She runs her finger over it before simple staring as if she can't believe what she is seeing on her own body.
I don't know where I'm going with this at first, simply snapping away pictures of her when suddenly it hits me. She can be my subject. She can be the one thing I photograph for sixty days.
"Harry, dinner's ready," My mom says suddenly opening my door, making me jump like I just got caught looking at porn. I guess I kinda did.
"Oh. Okay..I'll uh I'll be right there," I say quickly pulling my shades back down so my mom doesn't see her.
"What's wrong?" Mom asks furrowing her brows.
"N-Nothing I was just you know looking out the window," I shrug.