chapter five | snickerdoodles

Here I was, with my arms full of twinkly, shiny costumes. Besides the dim glow illuminating off the almost burnt out bulbs surrounding the dressing room mirror, I was enveloped in complete and utter darkness. It was unfamiliar and a faint stench of urine was lingering in the corner. I tried to avoid going near it as much as possible.

+++

“You did what!?” I roared, oozing annoyance.

Mom sighed. A trace of her smile remained on my face, which irked me even more. “Must I repeat myself? You know, my director doesn’t like doing that. Not one bit.”

“Repeat yourself,” I gritted through my teeth.

I usually wasn’t so disrespectful, but my mother had crossed the line, exceeded her limit. Either way, I was beyond livid.

“Don’t be so mad.”

“I’m not mad.” Like I said, beyond livid.

“I just thought it would be fun little project over the summer. I know you have your teeth to study, which I fully support by the way, but I think you need some more substance to your life. The world’s not all about teeth, Flossy.”

“Then I’ll study French or something.”

“Wow! A foreign language. Maybe you should pick that up to. That’ll look great on a college application won’t it, honey?” She glanced at my dad for support.

He put his hands up in defense. “I’m staying neutral.”

She didn’t look pleased when her husband didn’t take her side. Thanks, Dad. “Anyways, I think this is a good opportunity for you. Lots of children would kill to be in your position.”

“They don’t have to commit mass homicide or anything. They can have it.”

A thin, straight line appeared where her mouth was supposed to be. This was a sign that she was contemplating what to say before she actually verbalized it. It was a skill that most people should learn but didn’t bother to because nobody had the time for that. I’m sure it would prevent the past two world wars. It was something she had to learn, publicity skills and whatnot.

“Flossy.”

“Mom.”

“Do it.”

“No.”

“Please?”

Ah, the dreaded please. Next she would say pretty please. If that didn’t work, she’d threaten me. That was the way of parenting. Or possibly she’d come up with a compromise that would be appealing to me. I didn’t know. I wasn’t a parent.

“Pretty please?”

I stifled a laugh and preserved my stoicness. “No.”

“It won’t take up too much of your time.”

“I don’t want to be trapped in a small, stuffy room! It’s summer. I don’t have to do that for another two and a half months.”

“Just do it as a small favor to me, Flossy. I gave birth to you.”

She was guilt-tripping me. I should’ve expected it. Her puppy eyes had no affect on me because, after all, I was her daughter. You can’t puppy-eye your children. It’s like some unspoken rule.

“That’s not fair, Mom.”

“Augh, fine. Don’t expect me to pay for your education, then.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Can’t I? You’ll be eighteen by then. We’re legally not responsible for you.”

I turned to face my father. “Dad!”

He put his hands up once more. “Not getting involved.”

Aggravated and desperate to become a dentist, I agreed.

+++

My task was to tidy up the dressing room. I only had to worry about the girl’s. Some poor soul (I think it was the director’s son) cleaned up the boy’s. I’m not positive it having the female’s is better or worse. There were more women in the play and there were more costumes to keep track of.  The men, to put it bluntly, were slobs, pigs, and other things of that nature.

Honestly, I didn’t think I’d ever get around to cleaning up whatever was in that corner, not that I was particularly making an effort to clean it, anyways. I would mask the smell with Febreze to mask the smell if anyone bothered me about it. Whoever decided to pee in here when the bathroom was not even five minutes away could come scrub away at it. I didn’t sign up for this, and it wasn’t my job (I mean, it sort of was), so I wasn’t going to do it.

A head popped in through the doorway. “Knock, knock.”

The head didn’t scare the living daylights out of me; the voice did. The floating head was just a gruesome bonus. “Holy--who are you?”

The figure came closer towards me; towards the light. A gentle shadow was cast over half of his face. I hated to be cliche about it, but his features were almost perfection, in my eyes at least. I’m sure Eunice would think he was “just all right,” like all of the other boys I thought were cute. First of all, he had the most adorable nose ever. It was so perfect. It wasn’t abnormally thin or thick, but it wasn’t short or longer either. His jawline was nicely defined, and I saw a bit of baby fat left on his cheeks. In his defense though, it was disappearing quickly. His lips were drawn into a curt half smile that I found incredibly endearing. His eyebrows weren’t too thin as to suggest he waxed them, but not too thick that you could shear it all off and make everybody who was feeling chilly a blanket. They were like two brown McDonald’s golden arches. His hair was a luscious meadow of milk chocolate. I would skip in that meadow anyday. I would eat a mountain of milk chocolate without immediately requesting a cleaning if it meant I could be with him.

This feeling was foreign and it made feel like Eunice, but I couldn’t help wanting to feel it again. In the five seconds I had to look at his face, I drank it all in, savoring each drop of beauty. Quite frankly, I was melting.

I didn’t know who he was, but if he was going to be here as often as I was, I understood why Mom was so persistent and why she said girls would kill to be in my position, because I would kill myself to be in my position, but that would be pointless. I was in a dark and almost-private room with him only a couple of feet away from me. Too bad I didn’t know him. Unless that made things more romantic, which would change everything. I hadn’t had my first kiss yet, so what if he thought I was inexperienced? I mean, I was inexperienced, but--wait. He’s not going to kiss me. He’s probably in here to see if this is the bathroom. It would make a whole lot of sense. What if he was the one peeing in the corner? Oh, I’d murder him. Even if he was pretty.

“My name’s Owen. I’m guessing you are”--he looked at his right hand--”Fossil?”

“Flossy,” I corrected.

He smiled sheepishly. “Oh, right. Sorry. My handwriting is sort of messy, and it sort of got smudged.”

Holy crap! My name’s on his hand! He gets flustered easily. He probably has the cutest scrawl ever…I should answer back. He probably has the impression that I'm some sort of desperate, lovestruck fool.

"Oh, that's totally fine. Yup, I'm Flossy." I had the sudden urge to wink at him, which was completely out of character for me. It was so bizarre, and I wouldn’t tell anyone this, but I loved it. It was as if I had a newfound sexual confidence, not that any part of me was oozing sex appeal.

“Yeah, we sort of already established thought.”

Embarrassed, I felt my face turn a light shade of red. “Sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it.”

“I hate to be rude, but who are you?” I blurted.

He looked taken back. “I thought we went over this? My name is Owen and your name is Fossil.”

“Flossy,” I corrected once more.

He grinned. “I know.”

“Like, what are you doing here?”

“Oh. I’m Andrew’s son.”

Andrew was the director, which meant Owen was the director’s son. He was off-limits now, not that I thought I ever had a chance anyways. There was no one forbidding it, but it was a safeguard that I had to take. If things ended badly between Owen and I before the show was over, Mom would get booted for sure. Again, assuming that the possibility was there.

“Um...so what are you doing here?”

“I was just letting you know that the mop and all of the other cleaning supplies are in that”--he pointed to a metal cabinet just outside the door--”thing.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Just passing on information. And you might want to clean whatever’s in that corner. It smells sort of funky.”

“Yeah, do you know what it might be?”

Owen shrugged. “No idea.” He looked around. “It’s a little dark though, don’t you think?”

Oh my God. We were twins. We had to be. I had the exact same thought earlier, which obviously means that we’re meant to be. I didn’t mean to sound like Eunice, but we were soulmates. He just needed to realize it.

I took a quick glance in the mirror and was immediately disgusted at the reflection. It’s not that I thought I was ugly, because there were days where I thought I was a young Elizabeth Taylor (exaggerated, of course). Today was not one of those days.

My mousy brown hair was pulled up into a ponytail because I couldn’t even handle a messy bun. Strands hung free, giving me a drab sort of style. I was wearing one of my loose school t-shirts and a pair of old jeans that were threatening to rip at the seam. The seam, embarrassingly, was in the middle of my crotch. Not that we’d ever go as far as making out where the “feelsies” began. Because, again, I hadn’t even had the displeasure of experiencing the awkward first kiss. Eunice described her’s as “a world away from sunshine,” meaning it was total crap and definitely not what she expected it would be like. Eunice, like most girls, was expecting her first kiss to be magical, Hollywood worthy, and full of sparkshuffs. Heck, I was one of those girls. I still was.

I realized how conceited I must’ve appeared to him. I had to be staring at the mirror for at least ten seconds.

“You okay?” Owen asked, slightly concerned.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry about that.”

“Right. Anyways, I’m going to try my luck on the guys. See you around.”

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shuffled out the door. As he walked away, I couldn’t but notice how fantastic is behind looked. I quietly called myself a pervert and continued on with my daily business.

It was going to be a long three months if my hormone levels were going to be insanely high, or at least even with the boy-crazy Eunice. For the sake of my sanity, I hope he transformed into an ugly monster or I became a lesbian overnight. The latter was more likely to happen then the former, which didn’t help me at all, because I’m sure that even lesbians could appreciate his beauty.

---

“Alfie!” Uncle Bobby bellowed loudly from down the hall. “Alfie!”

Alfie groaned, forced his eyes to open, and rolled over in his cramped twin-sized bed to look at the clock. The alien green numbers protruded out to him like Aunt Lorraine’s baby belly. It read 2:27, an hour earlier than yesterday’s wake up call. Aunt Lorraine’s daily hospital visits were more or less consistent regarding time. He even considered setting an alarm to get ready for this recurring non-joyous occasion.

He wasn’t sure how to feel about the new baby. No doubt he would be the older brotherly figure of him or her (they wanted to keep the gender a surprise). It was somewhat of an honor, but he would be expected to be some sort of a role model to it. He wasn’t sure if he would like his newfound influence. Influence meant power, and Alfie didn’t do too well when power was in the picture. He liked to be that sidekick that participated in the action once in a while, but for the most part sat on the sidelines eating a corndog or other various carnie treats.

Alfie reluctantly rolled out of bed, and sluggishly making his way over to Aunt Lorraine’s baby bag that he threw on the floor early yesterday morning. He slung it over his shoulder and numbly started walking to the van. His pace quickened when he heard his uncle shout for him to hurry. Alfie slid into the backseat. Aunt Lorraine’s breaths were sharp and irregular. She was holding onto the colossal bulge that held her new pride and joy. She turned to Alfie, weakly smiling. Alfie smiled back, as if to give her encouragement. I think she needed a child (even if he was fifteen) to tell her that things would be all right. Alfie didn’t know if they would be. He heard childbirth was painful and gruesome. He was glad he never had to suffer through that particular experience.

“You got the bag, Alfie?” Uncle Bobby asked quickly, revving the engine and speeding out of the driveway.

He held it up. “Yup.”

“Good boy.”

“Thanks.”

The drive to the hospital was brief and painful (especially for Aunt Lorraine). Per usual, Alfie was greeted by Mary Anne, who sent him a sympathetic smile. She didn’t believe that he should have to go with his paranoid and batty relatives to the hospital every night. She didn’t think it was healthy for a “growing boy” to be out so late all the time. At least Alfie got some sleep beforehand.

“The doctor will see you shortly,” Mary Ann said politely to Aunt Lorraine.

Aunt Lorraine tried to smile, but failed when another contraction supposedly took place. Mary Ann stifled a laugh as she tried to comfort her. She left the counter she sat behind and began rubbing her back in circles. It worked for just a second, a soothe and calm aura taking over Aunt Lorraine before she proceeded to scream her voice box out.

Aunt Lorraine still had a few weeks yet of her pregnancy, but according to Mary Anne, the baby scares were authentic. It could be coming any time now, which frightened Alfie just a tad. Uncle Bobby must’ve been terrified out of his mind. With a baby to feed and purchase diapers for, the discounts he received through work were useless. He wouldn’t be buying any form of entertainment for a while. He wanted the baby, maybe not as much as Aunt Lorraine, but Alfie figured he was just intimidated by the title of “dad” or “daddy”. He was going to be a father--a major step in any person’s life.

This visit, however, was just another baby scare. The baby was not on its way, but they were. On their way home, that is. Drudgedly, Alfie dropped the bag in the same place and crawled back under the covers. They weren’t as warm as when he’d left them, but at least he didn’t have to worry about hospital visits for another twenty hours. With a great yawn, he huddled deeper under the covers and fell into a deep, almost hypnotic sleep.

“I’ve got someone I’d like you to meet,” Fran chirped, swinging her screen door.

Alfie looked at her strangely. “Is it your cousin?”

“How did you know?” she hissed in a not-so-mean kind of way.

“You told me.”

She giggled. “Oh, did I?”

Alfie found it odd that Fran of all people giggled, but didn’t question it. She was a girl. “Um...yes Yes, you did.”

“Whoopsie. Anyways, this is my cousin Eunice.”

She threw open the door to reveal the hippos of all hippos. The Queen Hippo, if you will. Alfie didn’t dare voice his thoughts aloud, as Fran would scold him for being rude to her cousin. She was at least three times larger than him. Her hair fell in small waves around her shoulders. It was the color of burnt gold. The frame of her glasses were hot pink. He didn’t think anyone had metal frames anymore. Alfie thought everybody switched over to plastic frames. But that showed how much he didn’t know about the world that surrounded me. He was okay with that.

She extended her arm and stuck her pudgy hand in Alfie’s face. “Hi, I’m Eunice,” she trilled happily. “You are?”

“I’m Alfie,” he said.

Eunice basically forced his hand into hers, jerking it up and down like a sugar shaker. “It’s really nice to meet you.” She batted her eyelashes rapidly at him. It reminded him of the wings on an amber butterfly, except maybe less pretty and iridescent.

“Yeah,” he said. “Ditto.”

He looked uncertainly in Fran’s direction, who only shrugged as a response. This Eunice girl was odd, handsy, and a bunch of other things that probably bothered him. He decided he didn’t like her but would tolerate her for Fran’s sake.

A sudden gravelly sound came from Eunice. Alfie began to agitate, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He looked at Fran once more. Her back was turned and she was heading back into her house.

“Where are you going?” Alfie asked, alarmed that he would be left alone with the creature she had introduced him to.

“I’ve got to go make lunch. Want me to bake some cookies for tonight?”

That wouldn’t be enough compensation for the disaster that was in front of him, but cookies were cookies. “Snickerdoodle?”

“I think I can make that happen.”

Alfie grinned. “Thanks, Fran.”

“Anytime, Alfie. Anytime.”

And with that, she let the door shut behind her, leaving Alfie alone with Eunice. At least they were outside. God forbid if she actually tried anything. If she did, Alfie didn’t know what he’d do. He wasn’t a confrontational person and he couldn’t really say no to anyone. He decided he was going to learn that skill sometime in the near future.