BookBeauty
01-20-2012, 11:17 PM
The bell on the top of the door jingled and made a dull tone as an odd pair stepped through the archway.
''Sometimes, you gotta do tings ya don' like,'' the man with a pear-shaped head, in a policeman's uniform, was speaking to a young woman. Her face was round in the cheeks with a pointy jawline: a frame that was still discovering its shape.
Stepping into this particular coffee shop was like stepping into a bath of spiced, mulled wine. The music coated the air in honey-sweet acoustic guitar chords, and low, crooning vocals. The room smelled strongly of baked sweet rolls, and warm vanilla. Even the walls matched, painted in a deep tan, with highlights of soft gold and chestnut.
''Obviously,'' she sneered, tossing her head. He was close enough to hear her highlighted hair rapidly cut the air before aligning, perfectly straight and shiny, at the sides of her head. Irritation, like bile, rose into his throat.
''You tink you know so much! Listen: You don't know even close to squat, kiddo,'' he sighed. When he was frustrated, he had the habit of scratching a spot at the back of his head. He felt more skin than hair there. It was oddly comforting.
''Welcome to Faraday's. How can I help you today?'' the new speaker, with no tone or expression, leaned on the counter that separated them as they came to the front of the queue.
''Jus' a coffee,'' he hesitated, overcoming his guilt before deciding, ''And one o' them maple ones, y'know, with the cream inside?'' he grinned hopefully at the pimple-faced employee of the coffee shop. The young woman rolled her eyes and stalked away to find a table, dropping down into her chair as if she had lost feeling in her legs.
When the officer sat down in front of her, she was gazing away purposefully. He said nothing for awhile, biting into his doughnut, relishing the rush of flavour that excited his tastebuds. He couldn't help but smile. He loved that shop.
She was looking out into the street, captivated by her own thoughts.
''So...'' He began, watching and waiting for her focus. Though it failed to distract her from her staring contest with the world, he continued,
''Look, Wendy. You can't jus' make a decision on the fly. Jus' 'cause this is somethin' you wanna do right now, doesn't mean you'll always wanna do it, y'know? Get an education first. Go to school, get that outta the way. You'll thank me later, I promise.''
She sighed, shaking her head. It wasn't often that she had nothing to say, and that worried him.
''The ting is, tons of kids are goin' out into the world, trying to figger it out. It's not like it used to be. Kids are makin' it too romantic-like. As if they're meant to find their perfect soul mate job, and they're meant to find their perfect soul mate person. In the real world it's always different, and it doesn't always go the way you expect,'' he paused, his attention suddenly back on the juicy morsel of pastry in his hand, biting into it as if it were his last meal. Her lower lip curled up, jaw set in disgust.
''I'm not twelve years old anymore! I have my own life, and I'm gonna get a job, save up some money and travel the world. I just want to figure it all out for myself.'' Wendy's voice was shriller than it needed to be, in his opinion.
''I know you tink that's reasonable. But, tink of it this way. Tings are happenin' too fast for people to keep up. Money's getting harder to get, an' people are getting more unhappy. Sillyin' along, lookin' at yer museums and climbin' the Rockies isn't really goin' ta get you where you need to be. You got to get your foot in the right doors,''
''I should be allowed to do what I want. I want to do something that makes me happy, and I don't care about the money. I want to do something that's made for me, and I feel like I need to see more to know what that something is. Don't you get it?'' her eyes flared up at him, as bright and defiant as someone he once knew.
He smiled gently, shaking his head.
''You're spoiled, you know that?'' At his words, she opened her mouth, eyebrows furrowing. He hurriedly continued, ''I'm not going to give you my blessing when it comes to this. As a responsible parent, I can't. But, I'll tell you 'dis much. No matter where ya go, or what ya do... I don't care if ya become a drug addict, pregnant... Yer always gonna have a place with me. I promise.'' He had taken her hands in his, gazing at her intensely until she looked down.
''Thanks, I guess. I'll save up some money for a year before I decide, okay?'' Her voice was as toneless as the cashier that had just served him.
As flippantly as she had said, 'year,' it had passed more quickly than she expected.
For Jim, her father, the year was not surprising. Her decision was.
''I'm joining the Circus.''
''Sometimes, you gotta do tings ya don' like,'' the man with a pear-shaped head, in a policeman's uniform, was speaking to a young woman. Her face was round in the cheeks with a pointy jawline: a frame that was still discovering its shape.
Stepping into this particular coffee shop was like stepping into a bath of spiced, mulled wine. The music coated the air in honey-sweet acoustic guitar chords, and low, crooning vocals. The room smelled strongly of baked sweet rolls, and warm vanilla. Even the walls matched, painted in a deep tan, with highlights of soft gold and chestnut.
''Obviously,'' she sneered, tossing her head. He was close enough to hear her highlighted hair rapidly cut the air before aligning, perfectly straight and shiny, at the sides of her head. Irritation, like bile, rose into his throat.
''You tink you know so much! Listen: You don't know even close to squat, kiddo,'' he sighed. When he was frustrated, he had the habit of scratching a spot at the back of his head. He felt more skin than hair there. It was oddly comforting.
''Welcome to Faraday's. How can I help you today?'' the new speaker, with no tone or expression, leaned on the counter that separated them as they came to the front of the queue.
''Jus' a coffee,'' he hesitated, overcoming his guilt before deciding, ''And one o' them maple ones, y'know, with the cream inside?'' he grinned hopefully at the pimple-faced employee of the coffee shop. The young woman rolled her eyes and stalked away to find a table, dropping down into her chair as if she had lost feeling in her legs.
When the officer sat down in front of her, she was gazing away purposefully. He said nothing for awhile, biting into his doughnut, relishing the rush of flavour that excited his tastebuds. He couldn't help but smile. He loved that shop.
She was looking out into the street, captivated by her own thoughts.
''So...'' He began, watching and waiting for her focus. Though it failed to distract her from her staring contest with the world, he continued,
''Look, Wendy. You can't jus' make a decision on the fly. Jus' 'cause this is somethin' you wanna do right now, doesn't mean you'll always wanna do it, y'know? Get an education first. Go to school, get that outta the way. You'll thank me later, I promise.''
She sighed, shaking her head. It wasn't often that she had nothing to say, and that worried him.
''The ting is, tons of kids are goin' out into the world, trying to figger it out. It's not like it used to be. Kids are makin' it too romantic-like. As if they're meant to find their perfect soul mate job, and they're meant to find their perfect soul mate person. In the real world it's always different, and it doesn't always go the way you expect,'' he paused, his attention suddenly back on the juicy morsel of pastry in his hand, biting into it as if it were his last meal. Her lower lip curled up, jaw set in disgust.
''I'm not twelve years old anymore! I have my own life, and I'm gonna get a job, save up some money and travel the world. I just want to figure it all out for myself.'' Wendy's voice was shriller than it needed to be, in his opinion.
''I know you tink that's reasonable. But, tink of it this way. Tings are happenin' too fast for people to keep up. Money's getting harder to get, an' people are getting more unhappy. Sillyin' along, lookin' at yer museums and climbin' the Rockies isn't really goin' ta get you where you need to be. You got to get your foot in the right doors,''
''I should be allowed to do what I want. I want to do something that makes me happy, and I don't care about the money. I want to do something that's made for me, and I feel like I need to see more to know what that something is. Don't you get it?'' her eyes flared up at him, as bright and defiant as someone he once knew.
He smiled gently, shaking his head.
''You're spoiled, you know that?'' At his words, she opened her mouth, eyebrows furrowing. He hurriedly continued, ''I'm not going to give you my blessing when it comes to this. As a responsible parent, I can't. But, I'll tell you 'dis much. No matter where ya go, or what ya do... I don't care if ya become a drug addict, pregnant... Yer always gonna have a place with me. I promise.'' He had taken her hands in his, gazing at her intensely until she looked down.
''Thanks, I guess. I'll save up some money for a year before I decide, okay?'' Her voice was as toneless as the cashier that had just served him.
As flippantly as she had said, 'year,' it had passed more quickly than she expected.
For Jim, her father, the year was not surprising. Her decision was.
''I'm joining the Circus.''