chapter ten | apple pie

Eunice had refused to take me home last night, her reasoning being that I needed more bonding time with her boyfriend. I grumbled. “You promised me you would take me home!” I protested.

    Eunice rolled her eyes, completely dismissing my feelings. I frowned, knowing that she would not comply with my feelings. She would not compromise either. I asked her why he wasn’t living with his parents. She told me that they were on a trip around the world, exploring every inch of what the earth had to offer. I couldn’t imagine living with anyone else but my parents. I knew I’d have to learn to eventually. I obviously couldn’t live with them into my adulthood nor did I want to. It would be awfully sad, not to mention a turn-off for most guys. I decided I wouldn’t move back in after I left for college. I’d take over my father’s practice when he retired, and I’d probably work there, but I’d find a place of my own away from home. It’d be close enough where I could visit them and occasionally eat home cooked meals. I liked having my future mapped out like this. It left little room for unpleasant surprises.

    I assumed that Alfie didn’t have the sort of bond I had with my parents. My parents were not the sort of people who just up and left without their child, especially when I was still underaged. Perhaps he was happy that they had gone because they weren’t the parental figures he’d wanted in his life. Maybe there were too strict. I doubted that though. His teeth showed signs of irrevocable damage that dated back to his first set of teeth. I bet his baby teeth were rotten.

    Conveniently, Eunice had made plans to spend the day with her family, and only family. They were going to the next town over for lunch and shopping. Apparently it was some sort of retail and comfort food therapy for her mentally unstable aunt. I was to stay with Alfie because he got “lonely.” I’m sure he’d rather be alone than spend the day with me. I hoped her expectations weren’t too high. We would not become best friends in the short timeframe that she would be gone. Even if we were given a longer one, I felt like it would be useless. Even a decade wouldn’t be long enough. Alfie and I were so incredibly different that even the phrase “opposites attract” was irrelevant. I didn’t believe an example of that phrase existed in real life. Even if two people had two completely contrasting personalities, they still had the chemistry between them in common. Two people could not bond over physical attraction and lustful actions, could they? Certainly they’d have to talk about something otherwise the relationship would steer over to the tedious side.

    “When are you going to take me home?” I asked, helping myself to a slice of Fran’s freshly baked apple pie. It was still steaming, a sign that it came out of the oven just moments ago.

    “I don’t know,” Eunice said. “Whenever I get sick of you, I guess.”

    “My parents are going to worry.”

    “No they won’t. I’ve made arrangements. You’ll go back when I want you to go back.”

    “Eunice, this is kidnapping.”

    “It’s not if I have parental permission!” She winked.

    “You’re a criminal.”

    “No, unless my crime is spreading my love.”

    I rolled my eyes and stabbed my pie slice with a fork, chiseling the tip off. The tip and the crust of the pie were my favorite. I wasn’t much of a filling person. “How much sugar do you think is in here?” I asked Eunice.

    I was hesitant to consume so much filling, as it was a large percentage of the pie. I didn’t want to risk offending Fran. It was delicious, but the sugar intake must’ve been massively atrocious. Eunice shrugged. She didn’t care how much was in it. She would’ve exceeded the suggested daily value. In fact, her usual consumption was double that of the suggested. I felt sorry for her doctor. It must’ve been annoying to repeat the same thing over and over to Eunice knowing that she would ignore it.

    “Will you ask her?”

    “Why don’t you?”

    “I don’t want to seem rude…”

    “Fine. The things I do for you, Flossy.”

    “Thank you.”

    “Hey, Fran?” Eunice asked.

    Fran looked up from her bookAstronomy: The Science of the Heavenly Bodies by David Peck Todd. The cover didn’t look appealing to me and it seemed incredibly boring, but whatever interested her. “Yes, Eunice?”

    “How much sugar is in this?”

    “Just a cup or two of plain granulated sugar. I didn’t count how much sugar were in the other ingredients. Why? Are you watching your weight?”

    Eunice raised her eyebrow. “Does it look like I need to watch my weight?”

    I wondered why Eunice was being so defensive about it. She knew she was a little on the heavier side. She flaunted it well. She bought endless amounts of bikinis and had only one one-piece swimsuit. It was difficult to find such stringy and skimpy two pieces in her size, but it was not impossible. She shopped at plus-size stores. There people couldn’t judge her too harshly when she bought her clothes. She hated the looks that thin, modelish people gave her. They made her feel degrading and awful for being “curvy.” That was her favorite phrase lately.

    Fran evaded the question. “Are you enjoying the pie?”

    It was a silly question. Eunice was on her third slice. “I am. Thank you for asking.”

    Fran smiled and returned to her reading. I had never seen Eunice so polite before. It wasn’t the good kind of polite though. It was the rude, cold type. She seemed distant. I didn’t think she liked Fran very much. Besides maybe being a little secluded and unsocial, she seemed like a nice girl. Eunice didn’t seem like much of a family person. She was more of a friend person, luckily for me, or someone who socialized with strangers. I could see her buying a round of drinks for everybody in the bar when she turned twenty-one. From what I could see, popularity meant more to her than her family. Popularity, though, was not her biggest concern. Finding love was.

    “We’re leaving in half an hour,” Eunice’s aunt, Marguerite, said, filling up a glass of water for herself from the tap.

    Eunice’s aunt was a plump, well rounded lady. She had natural pin curls and thin lips. She wore too much bold red lipstick for my taste, or anyone’s for that matter unless you were a circus clown. She wore a slimming black dress that barely covered her knees (scandalous). A white sash was tied into a loose bow around her waistline. She wore shiny black half-inch heels. They were classy yet supported her weak ankles (or so I was told by Eunice). All in all, Eunice’s aunt was very pretty. Though fetching, she was damaged goods. Her husband had left her for a younger and what I assumed prettier person.

    “All right, Auntie,” Eunice said, pigging out to yet another piece of the pie.

    “Should I wear a hat?” Marguerite asked to no one in particular.

    I was not going to reply. I was not one for fashion. Fran didn’t seem to be one either, but she looked up from her book to examine the black sun hat. “It looks nice, Mother.”

    Marguerite nodded. She turned to Eunice for her opinion. It seemed like she valued and trusted Eunice’s judgement over her own daughter’s. Eunice put her own two cents in. “Don’t you think it’s a little too over the top for such a casual outing? It’s not like you’re having tea with the Queen or anything.”

    “It could be sunny out,” Marguerite reasoned.

    “That’s what sunglasses are for.”

    “I’m not really a sunglasses type of person,” she said. “I’d prefer a sun hat.”

    Eunice shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat.”

    By the time the Gables were ready to leave, it was eleven o’clock. Marguerite did not have her hat in hand or on her hand when they left. “Are you going to be okay without me?” Eunice asked.

    “No.”

    “Oh, well try! Goodbye, Flossy! I’ll bring you back a toothbrush or something.”

    “Thanks,” I said. It wasn’t like I had billions of them scattered around my house.

    There was nothing stopping me from not hanging out with Alfie except for my mere promise to Eunice. I decided that I would not make the first move. I would sit on the front porch and wait for him to come to me. If he didn’t show up, my promise to Eunice would be broken. Keeping promises wasn’t a matter of life or death to me. It was sort of there. If I followed through, great. If I didn’t, oh well.

    I grabbed one of Eunice’s books that she had brought on the trip and made my way out to the veranda. The air was warm, a nice feeling against my bare arms. I only brought one sweater with me, but luckily I didn’t need it. It was too much effort to carry the weight of it on my body. I would make the effort when winter came around. My first mistake (besides agreeing to come to Pinto) that I made was not looking at the title of the book I picked up. Of course it had to be The Lucky One by Nicholas Sparks. Eunice was a big Nicholas Sparks fan and yearned to find a romance like his characters. I called her delusional. She called herself a dreamer.

    Nevertheless, I cracked open the book. I skipped the title page and the acknowledgments and went right to chapter one. The name of the first chapter was Clayton and Thibault. Thibault reminded me of Tybalt from Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. In my opinion, it started off too slow for my taste. I hoped the pace would pick up in a couple of chapters, but that was highly unlikely. I got to about chapter five when I saw a shadow loom over me. It was like the sun suddenly decided that it wanted to play peek-a-boo behind the dispersed cimuclus clouds. They were fluffy. Jack called them cotton candy clouds and wanted Eunice to pull them down so he could eat them. He was a big fan of cotton candy. I didn’t have the heart to inform him that clouds were only water droplets and ice crystals. He would learn eventually, probably in six grade science, Maybe even earlier.

    I glanced up, and sure enough, Alfie was towering above me. He was wearing a red shirt, presumably made out of cotton. He wore jeans, not shorts. It was still cool enough to where people weren’t dying of the heat but warm enough to show some skin. There was a slight frown on his face, but I think that was his natural lips looked like. It was neutral. “I was supposed to meet you at noon?”

    I nodded in confirmation, even though I had no idea that there was an allotted time. I wished Eunice would’ve told me that so I wouldn’t have had to reach her cheesy novels. “So...what’s up?”

    He shrugged. “Not much. You?”

    I kept my mouth taut. “Not much.”

    He gestured to my book. “You read Nicholas Sparks?”

    I picked it up lamely. “Uh, not really. This is Eunice’s.”

    “Oh. I should’ve known.”

    “ Yeah. Do you read Nicholas Sparks?”

    He cracked a smile. “Not a chance. The better question is whether I read at all.”

    “Do you?” I asked.

    “Do I what?” he said dumbly.

    He was being purposefully stupid and oblivious. I hated when people didn’t follow the conversation, even if was only pretend. That was another thing that irked me. People who pretended to be dumb. “Do you read?”

    “Do you count the labels on packaging?”

    I shook my head. “Nope.”

     “Oh. Well then no.”

    “Oh.” I figured that was the answer he would give. He didn’t look like much of a bookworm what with his hoards of candy and cavities.

    “Do you?”

    “Occasionally. I’m not a big reader myself.”

    Bonding over books and authors was off the list of topics to talk about. “So, uh, you like Eunice?”

    “I guess.”

    I raised an eyebrow, my left to be exact. “You guess? Care to elaborate on that?”

    “I’m not a relationship type of guy,” he said.

    “So you’re like a fling kind of person…?”

    “No, that’s not it. I don’t want to have a girlfriend. Well, I don’t really care.”

    “Then why are you dating Eunice?”

    He sighed and peered down at his twiddling thumbs. He opened his mouth to talk, but no words escaped. He looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t for a reason unbeknownst to me. Maybe he didn’t know the right words.

    “Alfie,” I said again. “Why are you dating Eunice if you don’t even want to?”

    “I sort of got dragged into it, I guess.”

    “What do you mean you ‘got dragged into it’?” I asked with utter confusion.

    “Look, you can’t tell Eunice, okay? She’ll be crushed.”

    “You don’t know that,” I said. “You don’t know Eunice like I do.”

    “Yeah, that’s true. But you don’t know what it’s like to be her boyfriend.”

“I would hardly classify you as a boyfriend.”

“What would you classify me as, then?” he challenged. It was as if he wanted to be called her boyfriend.

“A friend, if even. You’re just her latest project.” Yes, I admit, I was trying to push his buttons and offend him to no ends, but it was partially true. The truth was just stretched a bit.

    “Fine, I’m her project,” he agreed. “How long do you think it’ll take her to finish this project?”

    “Alfie, you do realize we’re talking about you, right? You’re the project,” I clarified.

    He snorted egotistically. “Of course I know that I’m the ‘project.’ I’m not an idiot, Flossy.”

    “I didn’t call you an idiot!” Not out loud, anyways. “I was just making sure.”

    “Okay, then.  Answer my question. You seem to be evading it.”

    “I don’t know when she’ll dump you because it’s unpredictable. If she likes you, she likes you.  If you don’t want to date her, then why don’t you just dump her instead of waiting around?”

    He mumbled something incoherent. He didn’t bother to repeat himself after I asked him to. “What?” I asked loudly.

    “Because I feel bad!” he said, matching the volume of my voice.

    I laughed. “Why do you feel bad?”

    He sighed. “She offered me some of her chocolate before she asked me out.”

    “And what? You just felt obligated to say yes to her proposal?”

    A bashful smile appeared on his face. It was almost sheepish. “I had already eaten the piece of chocolate!”

    “You couldn’t just buy her a candy bar later to make up for it?”

    I could tell that he felt a smidge silly when I mentioned the idea. He sighed heavily. “It was a spur of the moment kind of thing,” he replied defensively. “I didn’t want to leave her hanging. You should’ve seen her face, Flossy. It was so…”

“Sad? Desperate?” I offered.

He nodded. “Yes.”

“You are a weak minded person, Alfie. Why would you commit to this for one ephemeral moment of happiness?”

“Well, first off, I have no idea what ephemeral even means.”

“It’s like brief, lasting for a short time.”

“Oh. Well, it still makes me happy.”

“Let me tell you something, Alfie. Candy will never bring you everlasting happiness.”  

    “Oh, yeah? What about flossing? That happiness is definitely ephemeral.”

    “Stop saying that word!” It was being said more than necessary and was beginning to sound off in my head. “And the effect that flossing brings me perpetual joy. Spotless teeth is a trait that I will forever want, Alfie. You just become overweight, unhealthy, and at a severe risk for life-threatening diseases. Not to mention it’ll take forever to find a worthy girl who will want bad teeth.”

    Alfie subconsciously covered his mouth with his hands, as if hiding them from the human eye. “That’s not completely true,” he said. “If I exercise, I will not become overweight. If I eat plenty of vegetables, I’ll still be somewhat healthy. The other two factors should reduce the risk for life-threatening diseases. Anyone could obtain life-threatening diseases. And I’m currently with Eunice. Are you calling her unworthy?”

    I was at a loss for words. The point wasn’t to disparage Eunice. It was an attempt to make Alfie change his ways, so he could be better for Eunice. To say I was doing it only for Eunice and not myself would be a lie. I wanted the satisfaction knowing that I promoted dental hygiene and changed his life for the better. “Well no--”

    “And are you in a relationship?”

    I immediately thought of Owen, who I wished so badly to call my own. “No…”

    “Then you really have no room to judge, do you?”

    “We were talking about teeth!”

    “And you just had to mention the consequences. Case closed. I win.”

    “This isn’t a competition!”

    “You’re only saying that because you lost,” Alfie replied confidently.

    “I am not!" I retorted, huffing. My brows were creased with determination to come out victorious from this argument.

    "You are too!"Alfie exclaimed.

    "I am not!" I said in a more insistent tone.

    "Then why are you being so persistent? Is this a competition to you?"

    "Maybe," I answered earnestly. "The point is--" I wanted to say that I won, but that would only prove Alfie's point, and I didn't want that to happen.

    "The point is what?" he asked tauntingly, a mischievous glimmer appearing in his eye.

    I glared at him. Giving up, I said, "There is no point."

    He sat back in his chair with a smug expression upon his face. "All right then."

    "So back to our original conversation before you started being a silly ninny. Why don't you just break up with Eunice?"

It's not like I didn't want to see Eunice happy, because I did. I thought Alfie was a nice boy, and I wasn't trying to be mom-ish about the entire thing, but he didn't seem like the kind of guy I imagined or wanted her with. She deserved what she's always wanted: a fairy tale prince, even if it was overrated and unrealistic. That's why they called them fairy tales, I suppose. Alfie also didn't have genuine feelings for Eunice. While I doubted the strength and intensity of Eunice's feelings towards Alfie, I knew that she legitimately thought they were supposed to be together. Maybe not to the extent to being called destiny, but they were definitely real to her. Alfie only did it because he felt obligated to. He had no interest in Eunice, just her food. I couldn't say he was using her because it was only that one time that she offered him food from her own collection, but that's how it all stated. I couldn't help but wonder if that was all a part of Eunice's scheme. She would do something as vindictive as guilting someone to lure them into her chocolatey clutches.

    Alfie didn't seem to have an answer. "Why don't I just break up with her?" he echoed. "Why don't I just break up with her..."

    "Yes," I said, sarcasm dripping from my voice, "that was the question."

    "First off, I've never done it before. I don't exactly know how it works aside from TV." He sounded lethargic. "Second, I don't want to hurt her."

    I wasn't sure if his second reason for not breaking up with her was expected or not. Alfie didn't look like the type of guy who would actually purposefully hurt anyone. It was just if to me to see that Alfie somewhat cared for Eunice, enough to not shatter her already fragile, "broken" heart.

    "Is that good enough reasoning for you?" he asked rhetorically.

    I nodded anyways. "Eunice won't be heart broken if you break up with her, Alfie. She'll seem like it, but she actually won't be. I don't think she's experienced it." What I believed Eunice felt was rejection and disappointment. It wasn't nearly as bad as it could be. In a way, I wished Eunice would never have to suffer through the apparent emotional pain that was heartbreak. In another sense though, she would actually know the feeling and would stop pretending like she was going though actual heartbreak. I was torn. It wasn't up to me. It was up to her and the suitors she selected. One of whom was Alfie.

"I guess. I think it'd be better if I waited for her to do it."

"If you insist."

"Yeah..."

"So are we just going you a here all day?

"I don't know. I didn't really plan anything."

"Me neither, but I don't want to sit on this porch all day."

A smile slowly crept onto his face. "I have an idea."

"What is it?"

"We can go visit my friend if you want."

I thought about it for a moment. "Who's your friend?" I didn't want to r around a bunch of smelly boys who played video games all day.

"Oh, she's real nice."

"It's a she? Well in that case, let's go." I wanted to see if there were any normal females residing in Pinto. Marguerite and Fran were nice but different.

Alfie led the way by a few steps. I think we started out walking side by side, but his long legs overtook me. In the time and effort it took for me to take three steps, Alfie was halfway into his first. Having long legs was an advantage when it came to gym class and other athletic activities. Whether or not said person exercised that edge was debatable. It depended on their ambition and the amount of sloth they possessed. Of course, I thought of benefits for shorter legs. While not necessarily true all the time, shorter legs usually called for shorter people. Whenever I want into a superstore, something like Walmart, I thought of an escape plan in case of a fire. There would be a little door for carts to enter through. I imagined all of the tall people that surrounded me, shoving each other trying to get past the automatic doors. Smiling, perhaps even sadistically, I pictured myself darting through that little opening and into the fresh and secure air. It was highly unrealistic, but it made me feel better about my height, especially in the presence of such a giraffe-like human being.

    As I had predicted, the walk didn’t take very long. Pinto was indeed a small and navigable town. Alfie’s friend’s house was unlike all of the other citizens’ homes. It was not a stark white, a cream, or an eggshell. It was yellow. It was yellow like the sun, the cheese on my sandwiches, and the yolk of a cooked egg. It was refreshing to see something unique in a town of seeming conformity. It was cheerful, my mood lifting as I continued to stare at the color. I wasn’t a big fan of the color yellow, and certainly not splashed onto houses. But like I said before, it was nice to see something other than boring white. White was pretty and classy and all, but too much of it could be, well, that: too much.

    Alfie went onto the small porch and rapped on the door. There was no doorbell. A lady appeared, her eyes wide and pleasantly surprised. I assumed it was the girl’s mother, as she seemed too old to still be in high school. She had to be no older than her late twenties, maybe early thirties. I assumed she was a teen mother. I wasn’t trying to judge, but it was difficult not to. Growing up, I had become accustomed to doing what was right and proper with my mother’s “faith”. The pastor would emphasize it, especially to the younger generation, every once in a while.

    “Hello, Alfie! What a wonderful surprise! Come on in. And you’ve brought a friend!” She was a little less enthusiastic when it came to me. Something almost seemed more hesitant.

    “This is Flossy,” he said, gesturing to me.

    I smiled. “Hello.”

    “Hello, Flossy. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Miss Walden.”

    She ushered us in, sitting us down on her floral loveseat. The interior was wallpapered in candy pink and white stripes. I snuck a peek into her next room. It was bordered with tiny little rosebuds. Overall, it was a quaint place from what I could see.

    A couple of minutes passed before I started wondering where Alfie’s friend was and why we were socializing with her mother. Confused and looking around, I asked, “So where’s your daughter?”

    I received a sharp and swift stab from Alfie’s elbow. I went to glare at him to find that he was also glaring at me. Did I say something wrong? Thinking I would mend the situation, I said, “Not that you’re not a lovely person or anything, because you are, and--” I was rambling, to say the least.

    Alfie came to my rescue. “She’s delusional,” he said. “Miss Walden lives alone, Flossy. She doesn’t have a daughter.” Looking at Miss Walden, he apologized on my behalf. “I’m sorry. I think she has you confused with Mrs. Winkle down the street.”

    She nodded understandingly. “That is completely acceptable.”

    I was beyond befuddled, so I kept my mouth shut. I had learned my lesson.

    “Miss Walden,” Alfie started, “I will make everybody see the truth.”

    She shook her head. “That’s really not necessary, Alfie. But it’s very sweet. Thank you.”
    “No, I will, Miss Walden. People deserve to know the truth. Better yet, you deserve to be able to tell people the truth.”

    “There’s no one wanting to know, Alfie.”

    “Sure people want to know!”

    “That may be true, but no one wants to hear it from a crazy lady like myself.”

    “Now you know you’re not crazy, Miss Walden.”

    “Tell everybody else that,” she mumbled, looking down at her petite hands  sadly.

    “I will. I already told you I was going to clear your innocent name.”

    “My name’s innocent, Alfie. It’s just not untouched my gossip, rumors, and ridicule. It’s slowly fading and dying down though. It’ll all go away within a few months.”

---(same scene, new point of view)

    Alfie was reluctant to agree with her because he wasn’t so sure that it would just disappear. The stories had been floating around for a while. It wasn’t exactly a hot and trending topic, but he heard people still talking about it in their everyday conversations. If Alfie didn’t do this for her, she would never be out of the limelight. Few people would attend her funeral and miss her dearly, as she would deserve. It disheartened him to know that people believed the hearsay that was floating around Pinto. For such a small town, there certainly was a decent amount of drama. He considered it was due to the fact that it was small and word got around quickly because in Pinto everybody knew everybody.

    “I don’t know, Miss Walden,” he said.

    “I can handle it, Alfie.”

    “Wouldn’t it be nice to share your story, though?”

    “It’s not a nice story.”

    “I never said it was.”

    “Alfie,” she said, “you’re too innocent from the world. Let’s keep it that way.”

    Alfie wondered what she meant. Sure, he was sheltered from most corrupt things in the world, but he had an idea of what they were. Just because he hadn’t experienced it didn’t mean that he wasn’t educated about them. He had gone through some ordeals of his own. He was being raised by his aunt and uncle, not his parents. Just because he denied their invitation to travel didn’t mean a small part of him missed them. Anyone else but him, including his Aunt Lorraine, had said that they needed to stick around. She felt like Alfie was just dumped on her and Uncle Bobby. She didn’t tell this to Alfie. He overheard one late night when he snuck downstairs to get a chocolate coin he left on his chair. Feeling depressed about the newly discovered information, he dragged himself up the stairs and into his bed. He was in a dreary mood for the next week.

    “I’m not that innocent,” he informed her.

    She smiled, nodding slowly. “Okay.” Alfie knew she didn’t believe him.

    “I’m not!”

    “I said okay!”

    “You may have said it, but you don’t believe it.”

    She bit her lip, as she wasn’t going to lie to his face. Hearing no response from Miss Walden, he nodded slowly. She would not repeat her previous statement. She retracted it, agreeing with Alfie in the fact that she didn’t believe him. Alfie felt a little upset, but he didn’t know why. He supposed that it was the idea of an adult treating him like a naive child. Legally, he was still a child. But he had matured like every other teenager in Pinto. He considered himself more mature than most people in his grade.

    “Tell Flossy, Miss Walden. Tell her your tale.”

+++

His morning always started off the same way. His uncle would say in his sleep-deprived thunder of a voice for him to hurry up because Aunt Lorraine claimed that the baby was ready to come out. This morning was no exception.

“Alfie!” Uncle Bobby screamed. “Wake up! Let’s go!”

    Alfie let out a long yawn and slid the covers of himself. He was particularly tired this morning. Eunice had kept him up until midnight. His kiss with her had kept him tossing and turning into the darkest, reticent hours of the night. Nevertheless, he jogged down the stairs after his relatives, closing the front door tightly behind him. He crawled into the van, snuggling against the window. He couldn’t help but fall into a deep, brief sleep on his way to the hospital.

    “You’re late,” Mary Ann joked on our way in.

    Aunt Lorraine flashed her a nasty glare. Uncle Bobby’s expression remained neutral. Alfie cracked a smile. “Sorry,” he apologized without meaning.

    “Your petty jokes are not appreciated,” Aunt Lorraine growled brusquely. “I need a room.”

    “Please,” Uncle Bobby added for the tiniest bit of damage control. He didn’t want all the doctors and nurses to hate his family. They would be back here for at least a dozen more times.

    A sudden wave of panic suddenly washed over Alfie. His shoulder felt lighter, freer. Aunt Lorraine’s baby bag, that she had dutifully packed, was not with him. He probably left it in the van. Even if it wasn’t, he assured himself with the fact that his aunt would not be giving birth tonight. They would go home with no harm done. He was sure to get it tomorrow and all of the days after that. Today was a lesson learned. At any rate, he would not have to deal with the wrath of his hormonal, expecting aunt.

    Mary Ann smiled sweetly. “I’ll get you a room as soon as possible.”

    “What? Do you have a lot of patients here?” Aunt Lorraine snapped.

    “Well, no.”

“I need a room pronto-oh!” she moaned painfully, grabbing onto the bump on her lower abdominal. “Get me one now.” There was no sign of remorse. She looked like a demon straight from the gates and depths of Hell.

Mary Ann typed furiously into her computer. She was showing signs of annoyance, but Alfie could understand that. Mary Ann should’ve been more prepared though. She knew his aunt was coming around this time. He stood there quietly though, his heart pacing a million beats a minute from the missing baby bag.

“Room 212,” Mary Ann told Uncle Bobby.

He wheeled Aunt Lorraine into the elevator, pressing a button to escalate. Alfie would wait in the lobby with Mary Ann. They would be out soon. He was sure of it. He estimated they would be about fifteen minutes, maybe later depending on the amount of pain Aunt Lorraine was in. She would argue with the doctor, claiming that she was going into labor. He would check her out, assure her tiredly that the baby wasn’t coming, and escort her out on her merry way.

While this was happening. Alfie decided to sit down in one of the chairs in the lobby area. He picked up a magazine from the table, propped his feet up on a neighboring chair, and began reading it. It was Family Circle and it didn’t hold his interest for very long. Tossing it to the side, he leafed through the other glossy papers for something that would catch his attention. As expected, it was Martha Stewart Living Magazine. The cover didn’t showcase any spectacular recipe, but given Alfie’s love for her, he knew. To him, Martha Stewart was a baking goddess who needed her own temple of cookies. It would be like the gingerbread house from Hansel and Gretel, only loaded with more calories and not located in the middle of the forest. It would be by a bubbling brook, perhaps with a reflecting pool. There would be a statue of her done by someone as prestigious as Picasso or Monet.

Yawning, he glanced at the numbers on his phone. They indicated that it had half an hour since he had seen his relatives. Tapping his fingers on the edge of the seat, he leafed through another cooking magazine and wondered if the cafeteria was open. Then he wondered if they served any good food. He hoped it wouldn't just be healthy mush, but since it was a hospital, they probably did.

From the corner of his eye, Alfie saw the frontmost part of Uncle Bobby, his bloated belly, step out of the elevator. He was alone with a frantic yet blissful expression on his face. The mere fact that he didn’t come out with Aunt Lorraine sent Alfie’s skin prickling with goosebumps. He felt dead inside. His uncle approached. “Alfie,” he barked. “The baby is coming!”

“That’s great!” he said, even though he was feeling anxious inside.

    “Yes, well, I’m going to need that baby bag right about now. Aunt Lorraine wants it by her side.”

    His feelings of dread were confirmed. The pit of his stomach felt empty and he had the sudden urge to vomit all over the hospital floors, a deed that had most likely been done before. The color drained from his face, feeling slightly ghost-like. How could he explain to his uncle that he didn’t have his aunt’s baby bag with him?

    “I left it in the car,” he said.

    “Oh, come on, Alfie. She’s in labor. You do not want to deal with a screaming woman that’s pushing a baby out of her--”

    “I understand, Uncle Bobby,” Alfie interrupted promptly.

    Uncle Bobby sighed and started walking away from him. “I’ll go get it.”

    “No, wait! I will. I forgot it. Besides, you need to be with Aunt Lorraine right now. I’ll bring it up to you.”

    “Well, okay.” He handed Alfie the van keys. “Bring them back to me when you’re done. Do you remember what the room number is?”

    Alfie was getting antsy. “I will. I don’t, but I can ask Mary Ann.”

    “All right. See you soon.” He started walking away, and then turned back. “And Alfie?”

    “Yes?”

    “Don’t dawdle.”

    “I won’t, sir.”

    Solutions swirled around Alfie’s head. He had three options: fess up, drive home and get it, or call someone to bring it to him. If he told the truth, he would get in trouble for not only forgetting the baby bag but lying about it as well. He had taken driver’s education, but he never bothered to actually take the test or learn how to park well for that matter. Not to mention it was illegal and he could get in serious trouble with the law if anyone caught him. It was unlikely because it was three in the morning and Pinto was a safe and quiet town. He wouldn’t know who to call. Even if he did, there was no way that they’d possibly know where the baby bag was located.

    To him, the first one was worse than death. He considered calling Eunice or Fran, but Fran didn’t drive and he wasn’t exactly up to seeing Eunice in the dead of the morning. Although the second option probably the worst of them all, it seemed like the only possible solution at the moment. Taking a deep breath, he braced himself for the pressure of driving and its consequences. He hadn’t driven in quite some time, a month or two at the least.

    Alfie walked out the double set of heavy glass hospital doors, swinging the set of keys in his right hand. His left was clenched into a tight fist. Had Eunice not insisted on cutting his nails, he probably would’ve pierced right through his rough skin. He pressed the ‘unlock’ button on the key, waited for the car to light up and beep, and clambered into the car. He sat his butt in the driver’s seat, slammed the door tightly, locked the doors, fastened his seatbelt, and inserted the key into the ignition. It roared to life, sending a rush of exhilaration through him. He couldn’t decide if it was good or not. Pressing on the brake with his foot, he changed gears. From then on, the ride was pretty smooth. That is, until the engine sputtered and the car stopped. Alfie hadn’t noticed the tank was nearly empty until it was too late. He blamed his uncle. Ironically, his uncle would blame him. He would get in trouble for the first two options. He should’ve called someone.

    Pinto wasn’t very big, but in the time it would take to run to the house and back to the hospital would be too long. Uncle Bobby was ignorant, but he wasn’t a complete imbecile to remain unsuspicious. Hopefully Aunt Lorraine would squeeze his hand hard enough to the point where he couldn’t escape even if he wanted to (which he probably did). Alfie whipped out his cell phone and called Eunice. There was no one else he could think of to call.

    “Hello?” she answered drowsily in a tone that did not suggest that she was coherent.

    “Eunice? It’s Alfie. I need your help.”

    “Alfie? Hi. What are you doing up?”

    “My aunt’s at the hospital and I forgot her baby bag at home,” he said in a rushed voice. “I need you to grab the bag from my room and pick me up”--he looked at his surroundings--”by Pickled Pickin’s. Can you do that, please?” He sounded helpless.

    “Of course I will, Alfie. I’ll get Fran to wake up to show me where everything is.”

    “Please hurry. And Fran knows where my room is.”

    “Okay.”

    Alfie thought hard about where the bag could be. His room wasn’t very big, so it couldn’t be that difficult to find. Granted, he couldn’t be bothered with tidying up, but the bag was probably in plain sight. “The bag’s purple.” Purple was Aunt Lorraine’s favorite color. She said it was the color of royalty and all things delicious. The fact that she thought it was pretty helped too.

    “Thank you so much, Eunice,” he said gratefully.

    “Don’t mention it.”

The call ended the line was dead.

+++

Six minutes later, Alfie was counting the seconds that passed, Eunice showed up in her gas guzzler. Fran was in the passenger seat, looking at him with tired eyes. Alfie opened the door and climbed into the backseat. Before he could say “thank you” or even buckle up, Eunice’s foot was on the gas pedal. Fran tossed Aunt Lorraine’s baby bag to him and instructed Eunice to turn left. The hospital wasn’t far from here. He estimated they would get there within three minutes. Maybe sooner if Eunice decided to speed up.

Eunice drove up to the entrance. Alfie didn’t bother putting on a seatbelt, but he probably should have because Eunice drove like a maniacal getaway driver. Making sure the bag was in hand, he murmured a quick thank you and escaped the car. He ran to the doors with urgency, hoping his uncle wouldn’t be waiting in the lobby for him. Luckily, Uncle Bobby was nowhere in sight. “Mary Ann!” he screamed. “What room?”

She looked up. “212. Second floor. Go to the right once you’re off the elevator.”

    He flashed her a grateful smile, dashed to the elevator, and frantically pressed the arrow pointing up multiple times. Stepping in, he pushed the two and selected the option to close the doors immediately. They closed excruciatingly slow, sending a wave of discouragement through him. He would no doubt get yelled at for taking more than the appropriate amount of time and be accused of lollygagging. It was better than Uncle Bobby and Aunt Lorraine knowing the truth. He would have a heart attack if he knew that Alfie had been driving his van.

    Searching for the room numbers as he flew by, he came to a halt when 212 came into sight. Gasping for breath, he entered the room. Aunt Lorraine was in a hospital gown, looking more tired than everyone in the hospital combined. She was so exhausted and her face was looking red. Uncle Bobby sat in the chair next to the bed, his eyelids wanting to close and stay that way for another nine hours.

Alfie cleared his throat to signal his presence. Uncle Bobby shot straight up until he noticed it was his nephew. He relaxed and held his hand out to accept the bag. “What took you so long, Alfie?”

    “There was a long line for the elevator.”

    “Likely story.”

    “Okay. I couldn’t find the car in the parking lot.”

    Uncle Bobby didn’t believe that either, but he accepted it. “Okay. Well, your aunt and I are going to be here for a while. Do you think you can find a ride home when daylight comes?”

    “I can walk, Uncle.”

    “Well, I guess that’ll work.”

    Alfie nodded. Awkwardly, he added, “Good luck.” He smiled at Aunt Lorraine, who weakly returned it.

    He left the room, wondering how he would get gas into the car and into the parking lot. When he finally made his way down to the lobby, he was surprised to see Eunice and Fran waiting patiently in the chairs. Eunice was the first to look up and Fran was lost in her own little world of stars, space, and the beyond.

    Eunice jingled her keys, smiling. “Need a ride home?”

    For once in his life, he genuinely smiled at Eunice.  It took a four a.m. frenzy trip to the hospital to get him to finally realize that she was great and cared about him in her own quirky way. For that, he was thankful. He wondered if she was fabulous enough to sort this dilemma out with him.

    He nodded. “But there’s one more thing…”

    She cocked her head to the side. “What is it? Do you want shotgun or something.”

    He shook his head. He didn’t care about sitting in the front seat. It wasn’t that special. “No, I don’t know what to do with my uncle’s van…”

    “Just tell him that it’s on the side of the road.” She said this like the solution was so simple.

    “I can’t…”

    “Why not?”

    “Because he’ll yell at me for driving it!”

    “Wait a second,” Eunice said, something dawning on her. “You’re only fifteen.”

    “Yes…”

    “You were operating a motor vehicle without a license.”

    Alfie’s eyes flickered down shamefully. And for lack of a better response, “Yes…”

    “You know that’s illegal, right?”

    “Of course I know!”

    Eunice threw her back and laughed. Winking, she said saucily, “I like bad boys.”

    Perhaps it was his debt to her or the fact that he was sleep-deprived, but he Alfie couldn’t help but laugh at her. She slung her arm around Alfie’s neck, walking him out. “Maybe we can stop at a gas station to pick up some gas.”

    “Can we stop at my house first? I didn’t bring any money.”

    Eunice waved her hand dismissively in the air. “I have money.”

    “I’ll pay you back,” Alfie promised. He knew gas was pricey. Although, Pinto’s prices didn’t fluctuate nearly as much as the surrounding towns, it was still consistent with the global prices. That is, countries that weren’t rentier states with oil as their main source of revenue.

    “Don’t worry about it,” Eunice said. “Think of it as an early birthday present.”

    “You don’t know when my birthday is.”

    “Oh, right. When is your birthday, Alfie?”

    “It’s the third of July.”

    Eunice’s face lit up. “No way!? That’s Flossy’s birthday!”

    “Really?”

    “You guys are like twins!”

    “I mean, I wouldn’t go that far…”

    Eunice was twenty times more excited than Alfie. It was ridiculous, really. Birthday excitement aside, Eunice called Fran along and we went out to the car. Eunice drove to the nearest gas station, which happened to be SunPump. SunPump was owned by the Coleman’s, Susan’s family. Susan’s Uncle Barry was there. Alfie didn’t find it shocking because he frequently took the night and early morning shift.

    Eunice went in, paid for a gas can, and came out. Giving Fran the can to hold, she drove to Pickled Pickin’s. Expertly, she filled the tank with gas. “Do you have your uncle’s keys?” Eunice asked.

    Luckily, Alfie was too scatterbrained and Uncle Bobby was too tired for either of them to exchange keys. He reached into his pajama pockets, pulled them out, and tossed them to Eunice. She threw them back. “I don’t need it, Alfie. You’re going to have to drive it back to the hospital. I’ll follow you to get you home.”

    Once the car was parked and the keys were safely returned to his uncle, he got into Eunice’s car. “Do you tailgate everyone?” he asked.

    She beamed. “Maybe.”