Lydia returns-back to the short story!

Five summers after the “fortune teller” incident, Lydia finally decided to return to the carnival. She had been so shaken up by the incident that she couldn’t sleep for months after. Her brother had to take her to some doctor lady who didn’t take her temperature or blood, but just sat there asking her questions about her sleeping habits. A few weeks after, people starting whispering about her. It didn’t help that Daddy was never around to take her. He was always “working.” She winced as she pictured her father passed out in his office chair, hands poised over the typewriter mimicking an actual workingman.

            Lydia stood motionless at the entrance to the carnival, her long blonde hair blowing in the summer breeze. It was amazing how carnivals were really the only things on Earth that never changed. Every year the same rides were set up, flashing bright lights and catchy music to attract passersby. Every year the same popcorn was sold, the cheap circus kind and sweet caramel. Even the guy that sold it was the same hairy guido with a wifebeater spotted with yellow butter popcorn stains. Or if it wasn’t the same guy, it looked exactly like him. Lydia tried to hide the enormous amount of tickets that she got for free from her father in her pink backpack. You would think that having a father who owned a carnival, even if he was a drunk, would make her popular but it just made things worse.

            “Hey Loopy Lydie! Give us some of your tickets! I only got four left, and the Zipper costs five!” Lydia turned around slowly to face a crowd of kids from her school, all with outstretched, grubby hands and a mean look to their sunburned faces.

            “You know you can’t keep ‘em all in that backpack of yours!”

            “If I had a rich Daddy I’d keep ‘em to myself too!”

            One of the bigger kids hushed the group, pulled his baseball cap over his eyes and bellowed, “Maybe we have to tell her fortune first! Then she’ll have to miss another week of school!”

            Lydia rushed through the crowd, trying not to remember. Damn it! That kid had to bring it up! She couldn’t see in the bright sunlight, but it must have been Stanley, she thought as she pushed through the crowd of carnival-goers. She concentrated on making it to the new Zipper ride before they realized that the object of their teasing had slipped out of sight. 

Lavender and Rose

 “Ugh Rose, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I feel so crappy lately.” Rose stopped dusting the end table for a moment to stare at her sister laying on her bedraggled old blue futon with the stuffing poking out of it.

            “Are you sure it’s not the two packs you smoke every day? Look, I’m not gonna pay for your medical bills if you have lung cancer or something.”

            “It’s not that kind of sick…and will you stop dusting my furniture! I don’t need you to be my housewife! I’d probably be a pretty sucky husband.”

            “No, you’d be perfect. You sure act like him, laying around all day. But seriously, what’s wrong with you if it’s not a black lung?"                                                                                                   

            “I told you already! It all started when I touched that little girl’s hand! I haven’t slept in a week! Ya think she’s a witch or something?”

            “Oh yes, I heard the devil likes to have six year olds do his bidding, especially at carnivals.”

            “I think she was seven.”

            “Oh right, because you read her mind. Maybe it’s a mid-life crisis?”

            “It’s telling the future! Not reading her mind. Am I crazy?”

            “Same difference. And no, you’re not crazy, you’re just extremely untidy. Ugh! I swear it gets worse every time I come here! Just because you never married what’s-his-name doesn’t mean everything goes down the drain!” After a moment of stifling silence accompanied by the faint swish swish of the feather duster, Rose continued.

            “Shouldn’t you be at work, Miss Lavender?” Rose emphasized the name in a way meant to tease her sister and erase the words that mistakenly spilled out of her mouth just moments before.

            But Lavender was staring at the untwisted turban, her fingers exploring the cotton polyester mix and her mind exploring the deep recesses of memory. Her thoughts alternated between the recent memory of the images that invaded her mind after touching that girl’s hand and the more distant past. John, Johnny. He was her high school love. It was kind of clichéd, but true. But she hadn’t been pregnant or anything; she had that bit of luck over Sally James; that hussy had to drop out of school. It still hurt thinking about him, how he left her two weeks before they were supposed to get married. Damn it! Rose had to bring that up. Rose had a husband, a few kids and a plastic covered couch. She had a midlife crisis, complete with hallucinations and possible premonitions of the future. Maybe Rose would be willing to trade.

Lydia is spooked by Lavender

Lydia’s eyes widened in fear as she tried to understand what the old lady just whispered to her. She began to run far away from the lonely old stand next to the Tilt a Whirl, shrieking as loud as she can. Real tears streamed down her cheeks as she struggled to find her Father through blurry vision and soggy eyelashes. She found him sipping beer and laughing with some of the weird old men that he worked with. Lydia tugged on her father’s suit jacket, still amazed that she did not have to conjure fake sobs for his attention.

“Daddy I…”                                                                                                             

Her father spun around, seeing his daughter he smiled broadly at her through his alcohol-induced haze.

            “Lydia! Sweetie! I’m having a professional chat with some important people…don’t you have enough tickets?”

            “Daddy really! You should hear what this crazy old lady said to me! She told my future and it was really scary and she said…”

            Lydia’s father bent over to meet Lydia’s eye level. She winced as she smelled the stale beer on his breath, a familiar smell to her by now.

            “Look sweetie, I’m really sorry you were scared, here’s some more tickets, ok?”

            “No! I don’t want any more tickets I already went on all of the rides…”

My story continued

A young girl around seven years old wearing a cherry red dress and blonde pigtails came skipping up to her booth, her chin barely reaching the counter.

“Hey lady!” The voice squeaked, as high pitched as the tilt a whirl’s annoying rendition of “It’s a Small World.” “Can you really tell the future?

           

 

 

            Lavender cleared her throat and in not a very convincing Russian accent drawled, “Yes my dear, I can tell you your future, or anything you want for just two tickets.” The little girl handed over two blue “admit one” tickets that were tainted with a sticky cotton candy residue.

            “Give me your hand.” The little girl placed her hand over the counter as she nervously chewed her pigtail.

            “What the hell?” Lavender thought to herself. The coolness of the child’s hand seemed to melt her own spider veined one. Her thoughts faded out one by one, as images formed in her mind. The carnival was gone, even the nicotine addiction had ceased to claw at her subconscious. The images were appearing and disappearing rapidly. A couple walking. A piano. A church. An empty liquor bottle. A wheelchair. Lavender yanked her hand away. She frowned as the blinking lights and the girl’s yellow pigtails bobbing in front of her came back into focus. She bent over the counter and whispered in her customer’s ear….

Lavenders by Moonlight

My short story- I will publish some chapters every few days or so. Let me know what you think!!!!

The harsh blinking of the carnival lights had stopped hurting Miss Lavender’s eyes over an hour ago. But the combination of the light bulbs blinking in time with the tinny music and the salty sweet smell of caramel popcorn still gave her a dull headache. It was supposed to be an easy summer job, a way to support herself between careers. But the damn carnival paid her a hell of a lot better than a career in piano performance did. She began to wish she were allowed to have a cigarette. “Stupid rule,” she thought, beginning to feel the nagging crave for nicotine, “not supposed to smoke around the darling children.”

            Miss Lavender adjusted her turban, a white sheet she had just picked up from the cleaners. The sign in front of the booth where she sat bragged about the “Mystical Miss Lavender: Fortune Teller and Palm Reader Extraordinaire” in bold purple and gold lettering. “Miss Lavender” she snorted, “the name sounds like something out of a fairy tale….I want my happy ending!” she thought. “This is more like hell.” The sweltering heat agreed with her statement, and Lavender half expected the sky to burst into flames.