Towards the evening she's feeling a lot better.
I need to be careful or else I'll fall. I'll fall and fall and who knows where I'll end up. Last time it was torture and a coffin in the basement, this time could be worse.
To pass the time today (It's just noon) I've decided to go and buy wax and then wax the floor. I was educated at the shop that there are machines one can rent out to do the job, instead of rubbing the floor on your hands and knees.
Once the boy at the store started explaining about Watts and what-nots, I decided to buy the manual verity and use my hands and knees with a cloth.
When Tifa finally (some hours after I started fixing up the floors) came down to the bar, she seems rather surprised.
"Wha- What's all this?" She asked, looking a little better, still with her blanket around her and her cup of tea.
"I'm waxing the floor." I answer the obvious. My sleeves are rolled up and I'm wearing an older pair of pants. Wiping some sweat off my brow, I shake the waxing rag to loosen whatever had gotten stuck in it. A small piece of sand or something had gotten itself lodged in there, I think. I'm seeing scratches every time I turn around.
Sitting down on my ankles and catching my breath, I take a look at Tifa. She's standing clutching at her blanket. Marlene had left early this morning, something about a day trip out with her class.
"How are you feeling?" I ask her.
"Better…" She answers distractedly, looking at my handiwork, "What are you doing?"
"Waxing the floor." I repeat. Was it not obvious the first time I said it? "It was getting a little… worn."
Tifa blinks at me.
"There are machines that do it, you know. You don't have to use a rag." Her eyes are slowly following the mess I've created, the pile of wax-stripper bottles on one side of the room. The wax itself beside me. I'm almost done, actually.
"The man at the shop was saying something about Watts, amperage and Volts." I say. "I'd rather understand what I'm doing than."
"You really don't like machines, do you?" There's humour in her voice.
I continue scrubbing, instead of answering her I say, "I am just trying to get these thin scratch marks off the wax before it dries completely. I think the rag's defective." After scrubbing a section I look around. There, where I just finished scrubbing before Tifa came in there are scratches on the wax. Damn this rag! The area I just cleaned looks good, though. I don't understand.
Turning around on my knees, I scrub that area, again. When I'm done, I take another look. Did I miss anything?
The area I just finished a moment ago. Scratches. Damnit!
Tifa notices my irritation because she asks why I returned to the place I just finished. I explain the case the mysteriously appearing scratches. Instead of offering help she just laughs so hard she has to lean on the floor.
"First of all, Vincent, I never told you to rewax my bar." I blush a little, I'm sure. Have I made another mistake? She's holding her stomach, the blanket loosely around her shoulders. "Secondly, it looks great." She calms down a little, looking down at me. "Thirdly, you're probably the only one who could possibly see the scratches." Now she leans real close to my face, scrunching hers to try and discern the blemishes on the floor. When she sees one of them, she looks at me. "And fourthly…" She chuckles again, "You're an idiot." She looks away, and I follow her gaze.
She's looking at my feet.
The points are pointing down. I am on my knees and hands.
I am scratching the floor! I've spend the last forty-five minutes of what was already a long job cleaning up the gouges my own feet had left! Running in circles after my own footsteps!
Tifa's howling with laughter again.
Embarrassment is something I used to, ridicule, however…
"I…"
She's doubled over, grabbing her stomach and laughing so hard that she has no more voice. There are tears in her eyes.
"I was just trying to help!" I hop to my feet, "Laughing at me is very unbecoming!" Damnit! How could I have been so foolish? My face feels hot.
She puts a hand on my shoulder to keep her balance, still doubled over. A few hiccupping breaths later and she manages to utter,
"You should have seen the look on your face when we noticed your shoes! You looked so shocked!" And she's gone again, laughing hysterically. I stalk off to the living room, wanting her to calm down. I worked hard all day for to get move the furniture, clean and remove the old wax from the floor. I worked hard! I'm tired and irritated. Walking out of the bar would have probably been more impressive if I hadn't nearly slipped on the damn new layer of wax!
After fifteen minutes of my sulking in the living room Tifa walks in and I feel the burn of embarrassment all over again. Damnit. What an idiot I am!
She has a big smile on her face, a sort of smugness.
"Hey,"
I turn away, looking at the blank television. I don't like watching it, the images flicker constantly and I can see the lines they're made out of.
"Oh, don't be like that!" Tifa closes the distance between us quickly, sitting on the couch beside me. She puts her hand on mine, and I draw it away instinctively.
"It was really funny!" She protests, "I didn't mean to laugh so hard, I'm sorry." The smile is still in her voice, and I can't seem to remain angry. I was being pretty stupid, after all. "I was…" She starts, then rephrases pleasantly, "I think it was really sweet that you wanted to do so much for me while I was feeling sick." She coughs a little, still not completely over it, "Thanks."
I look at her. She's sitting beside me, hand on the couch and just not touching me. Leaning towards me with sincerity all over her features. "I think I want to keep those miniscule scratches! It's not like anyone can see them." She chuckles again, "I wish I had a camera to take a picture of your face!"
At my expression she says, "Oh, come on!" She shoves my shoulder playfully, "Take it easy! It was funny!"
I sigh. Hearing her laugh… It sure beats hearing her cry. So I suppose I'll tolerate my mistake for that.
The next couple of days are more work for me. She insists she can go back to work, but whenever I ask her if she's not worried about infecting her clients by sneezing/coughing on them, she backs down. You can always depend on her to worry about others.
It's getting later in the month. Karaoke is only a couple of weeks away. Holy help me. I don't sing, it's not really something I've ever done. I hum, I tap my foot, but I don't sing. Even in the Turks when I'd get totally smashed I still wouldn't sing!
Tifa had gotten better and after only three more days of my serving took over the bar again. She got many compliments for the polished floors. I took silent pride in that. Marlene thought the place looked just fine before and didn't see the point in a new polish job. Oh, well, you can't win them all.
It was on just another day, while Tifa and I were having lunch that she got a phone call. I did my best not to eavesdrop, but the second I detected alarm in her voice I rushed to the divide between the kitchen and the dining area.
"What? Is Marlene ok?"
Marlene? Had something happened to Marlene? I can hear the other side of the conversation through the headset at Tifa's ear,
"She's fine, Ms. Lockhart, just a broken arm. She fell while playing soccer outside. We took her to Edge Memorial Hospital."
Tifa finishes the conversation and rushes to grab her things. I grab my keys as well and we're off to Edge Memorial.
The Hospital is sickeningly white, and the second we walk in I want to walk out. Why did I even think that I should come here? The smell of it all nauseates me and nearly makes me stumble as I follow Tifa's frantic step to the reception desk.
Tifa learns her whereabouts and we're off again in near trot. Marlene, are you ok?
The nurse at the entrance to her room says "Dear, your parents are here to see you." I take note of that and open my mouth to speak, but Tifa just grabs my arms, thanks her and rushes us both in.
I want to get out of here.
Marlene seems ok, sitting on the medical bed and pouting. Her eyes are puffy and her expression more disappointed and annoyed then scared or hurt. As I breath in and out I notice it. I notice that I want to throw up, that I want to run yet my arms and legs are leaden. I notice that my breathing doesn't seem to actually convey any air to my body. I feel like I'm dying.
I want to get out of here.
"I want to get out of here." I hear myself breath. Never intended to say it out loud. But I have become somehow more relaxed in Tifa's presence. Things that would normally get caught in the net of words slip through. Tifa's attention, until now completely on her young charge snaps to me. At first her brows scrunch, then shoot up as she looks at me and realizes.
"Yeah, of course! Sorry- Why don't you wait for us at home? I think Marlene could use some food and a nice comfy bed."
I don't remember leaving the building but I find my senses outside the front door and across the street. The smell fades, my heart rate comes back down from the sky.
The walk home feels lonely and surreal, like I had just woken up from a dream to find myself inside another one.
In this dream I'm walking along at sunset to a place I can finally call home. It's not really my home, but you know how dreams can convince you that what you're going through right now is so real?
Only when I enter the house through the back door that leads to the kitchen do things seem real again. Common smudges, dishes that are my responsibility to clean. Small real things that make life what it is.
I take off my coat and make sure that my feet don't leave wet or muddy trails.
Hello, everyone!
I'm glad to be able to post a new chapter so soon after the last one!
Poor vince.
I hope you'll continue to enjoy this and I hope that I'll be continuing to post new chapters on a semi-regular basis. Life is kicking me in the shins this last little while, but nothing lasts forever, right? Not even the bad stuff... Right?
Anyway!
Your reviews (I love long reviews, by the way!) are like getting Christmas presents all year long. ^_^ I love seeing new reviews and will gladly answer questions or anything if you leave one.
There's a chapter that's giving me a lot of trouble (ok, maybe two of them!) but other than that it should be pretty clear sailing to the ending of the story. Still a bit of ways to go.
Again I want to thank all you amazing reviewers! You make me feel like I actually touch someone, somewhere in a way that can make their day just a little bit better! What an amazing feeling!
Ever yours,
~LunarBlade.