Biographical Non-Fiction posted October 15, 2023 Chapters:  ...17 18 -19- 20... 


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Repeat rinse and repeat again.... Age 15

A chapter in the book Ghost

Old Revelations

by Lea Tonin1


The author has placed a warning on this post for violence.
The author has placed a warning on this post for language.

There are no shortcuts when it comes to writing. No alleyways, no back doors and no excuses.
My fellow writers, whom I consider mentors, guide me and remind me...leave no stone unturned.  That's the thought I had when I first opened my eyes. 
The silent clock face proudly showed the time gazing at me inquiringly as if to say, "Well? What are you laying around for?"
Coffee...the nectar of the gods brewed pleasantly on the counter. 
My mind started to spin with words clambering for position.   
 
"Hello computer,  shall we?"
 
*****************************

"Nobody's said shit. A couple of kids asked. We just said you might've moved." S remarked. "Heard squat about your parents though."

"Maybe call there and ask for me. Throw off any suspicion from you guys...see what they say. I'm not expecting much but...you never know." I said. "Perhaps ask about sister in a roundabout way?"

My two friends agreed.

We spent the afternoon together chatting about small things, gossip from school, have you seen so and so and joked about a substitute Teacher named Mr. Seimans...that was an interesting chuckle. 

That was what I needed at the time. Some semblance of normal, something every day and some laughter.

 
"Yo girl were out.  Be back next Saturday need anything? Food of course?"
M asked.
 
"A book?" I asked.
 
"A book..." M said.
 
"Ya..." I answered.
 
"Yer weird...who reads books man." M said with a smile. 
 

"Be back Saturday." S said.  Off they went, hands jammed deep in their pockets.

A week is a long time away.  I knew I'd have to go out for food soon.

I dreaded it every time and this time was no different.

On this particular occasion, a new approach was required. I washed myself as best as I could trying to look more like a customer rather than Raggedy Ann.

I approached the grocery store from the front and picked out a cart just as everyone else did.

I walked at the same rate as everyone else and blended in as best as I could. I had to force myself to slow down, not pick up the pace and zip through the aisles.

I didn't want to spend a lot of time browsing either. I had in my head what I needed to get and made a beeline for it with as normal a pace as possible. The last thing I needed was someone looking at me.

Three things I couldn't control. Trembling hands, slamming hearts and other people.

I walked through the aisles and placed a few items in the cart like eggs, milk, bread...staples.  As much as I would have liked to cruise the junk food aisle I resisted.  Too much time in the store is also not good. Get in, get out. While putting a jar of peanuts in, I went through my exit route.

Draw no attention is my best bet obviously but, IF I drew attention, I needed a path of least resistance.  The cart will not go through the bushes as I do so I drew the drawstring in my coat snug around my waist.

I shopped my way towards the bakery which happened to be close to the doors. One eye on the doors, one eye on shoppers and the baker I waited for my moment.

A clear path.  No eyes on me and as calmly as I could, I pushed the cart out the door. I pushed it steadily along the front of the building, my eyes fixed on the corner thinking that I was okay once I rounded it.  WRONG!

Around the corner, I went smack dab into a Clerk gathering up the cart.

He took one look at me and my items and said. "Miss, do you need some bags?" His open expression quickly turned to suspicion.

He flicked his eyes over my face and back down to the cart.  My reaction had me flash-push that cart as quickly as it could go to the exit and out of the parking lot. 

Down the sidewalk along the park, I ran to the nearest entrance my cart leading the way.

The clerk gave chase but gave up after a block. I was fast, he was chubby.

Pushing the car up a sometimes muddy path. I got it as close to my turn-off as possible. I dragged that cart into the bush a few feet, emptied the contents and then buried the cart under tree boughs, branches and forest floor debris. I stuffed my coat and pocket with as much as I could and carried the rest. There it was my little campsite once. The adrenaline rush having slowly dissipated from my system, left me weak kneed.

I sat down dumping the contents of my jacket and grabbed the carton of milk. I opened the top and chugged back as much as I could then sat with my head between my knees and waited for the quivers to finally cease.

I thought to myself, "There has got to be a better way." If I was old I'd have had ten heart attacks by now! I lifted my head and gazed at the pine and poplar trees.

The pine trees wiggling their green fingers, and the poplar leaves spinning like ballerinas helped return my heart to a normal rhythm.

"Ok," I thought..."Time to get this show on the road...."

***********************
 
I looked up and noticed that the time had got up and ran away.
I also noticed that when I get into writing, time has no meaning.
We are so limited when it comes to time. One linear plane, yesterday, today, and tomorrow.  Our corporeal lives are a ring in a tree, a ripple in a pond, a day in class and the bell rings at three......
 




This story is part of an ongoing auto bio called "Ghost" and can be found in my portfolio. Should you wish to read feel free. Caution, some of it is difficult and therefore reader discretion is advised.
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