"Look, kid, I don't make the prices. It's five bucks, or no Pachy..-whatever-saurus fight."
The child below Hattie's booth screeched in agitation, and Hattie sighed, blowing a bubble with her gum, that she popped obnoxiously loud. She /hated/ dealing with children, but that was what her job mostly consisted of. Snobby children and snobby parents. This particular child was three dollars shy of the entrance fee to watch the Pachycephalosaurus fight. He wasn't getting that he couldn't see them, and she was at her rope's end with his screaming.
"/Stop/ crying! I can't help it if you don't have enough!"
The child's mother walked up just then, scooping her son into her arms with an apologetic look in Hattie's direction.
"I'm so sorry.. This trip was a gift to us, and we just like to look. I wasn't aware that some of the attractions cost so much, or I would've said no. We don't have that much money at home..." Realizing she was rambling, the woman turned to leave, her son kicking and screaming in her arms.
Hattie watched them both, the lanyard around her neck suddenly feeling very heavy. Her job, as Mr. Masrani had said, was to make people happy, and this little boy was anything but happy. It actually pained her to watch children cry, but she wasn't supposed to let people into the attraction for free... But watching the little boy's tears, and the look on his tired mother's face… she caved.
"..wait." Tearing off two tickets to the Pachy fight, Hattie leaned forwards out of her booth, offering them to the mother and her son. The look she got from the mother was indescribable happiness, the woman even wiping away tears as she set her son down. He toddled over and took the tickets from Hattie, stretching up as she leaned down to give him the tickets, and throwing his arms around the blonde's neck in a hug. Hattie blinked; a small smile tugging at her lips as she gently patted his back, then leaned back into her booth.
"Thank you… Thank you so much." The mother was definitely crying as she spoke, taking her son by the hand.
"Don't worry about it…" Hattie offered the mother a smile, watching the woman and her son head off inside the arena. She would get in trouble for that, but she didn't care. The looks she got from them were more than worth it.
Hours later, Hattie was entering her hotel room, flopping face first onto her bed with a tired groan. She had been sitting in her booth since nine that morning until ten that night, and her breaks didn't last that long. Selling tickets didn't seem like much, but out in the hot sun all day, it was very tiring. Still, it was better than being at home, stuck in her father's empty house and being haunted by memories she would be all too happy to forget. Letting out a sigh, she rolled to her back on the bed, yanking off the lanyard as she stood up. She dropped the blue and white object on her night table, then tugged her blue park uniform shirt off, tossing it into the hamper and moving to pull her khaki shorts off. Those were tossed into the hamper as well, and Hattie moved to her dresser, pulling out a plain white t-shirt and a pair of black sleeping shorts. Once dressed, her short, blonde and black streaked hair was pulled into a ponytail, and the blonde flopped back onto her bed again.
Staring at the white celling, the faces of the mother and son came into her memory, and she smiled. Her own mother had died when Hattie was two, and she had been sick since Hattie and her twin brother, Harry, were born. She didn't even remember her mother, so her soft spot had been how the child had clung to his mother earlier. He had grabbed a fistful of her dark brown curls, buried his face in her shoulder, and she had held him. Hattie closed her eyes and imagined what it would be like for her mother to hold her like that, the blonde curling up with her pillow to help her imagine it. She stopped, though, the second she felt tears building up. Then, she released the pillow, and curled up with the blanket instead, the faces of the mother and child filling her thoughts once again. They had seemed so happy. So thankful… She was glad she had given them the tickets, and she didn't even care about the lost ten dollars. The park could deduct it from her paycheck for all she cared. It wasn't like she didn't have more than enough money already anyways. Eventually, Hattie drifted off to sleep, the image of the mother and her son filling her dreams, but as Hattie and her mother. She really missed her…
