Expectation
For my fifteenth anniversary, my Great-Aunt Melon bought me a limegreen shirt with a bedazzled Pickle splashed across it. There was precipitation as well. It didn’t surprise me or make me sad. Since my birth, it has rained every year since. Mom even mentioned that it was raining on my birthday.
I remember the story and it ends with this: “It was hailing! I thought that I was going to have your right there in the tub.” Then she would chuckle and then give me a burnt orange-stained, kissed kiss that I wouldn’t forget until the next day. In the end, I ended up with many pictures that show what appears to be a birthmark on my cheek. It has been torture to say the very least. We gathered our three friends on the patch of grass next to our apartment. We made our own circle and sat together under the fig Tree. On the sidewalk, we spread Christmas-themed paper plates covered in Baklava crumbs. About an hour had passed since the departure of my relatives. I sat down in the “special birthday” chair, which was actually a folding chair with yellow paint that had chipped off the legs. Great Aunt Melon’s gift bag was quite stifling in tan, so imagine my surprise when a shirt I had made shouldn’t even have been allowed.
“Gee Aunt Melon, it’s great, I love it.” It’s so beautiful.” I tried to keep my embarrassment from looking at her and myself. Even so, I was not given a gift by my mother.
Mom mocked and smiled.
As I removed my hoodie, I felt her gaze on my petite frame. My shoulders were three sizes too large for the shirt. The itchy fabric made my spine ache and covered it with chills. I was basically wearing an entire tent. A guy who wore a tent to school would be a good choice for a girl to be with. It would be a disaster.
Melon’s dark, sleek black sunglasses covered her eyes. However, her bright cheeks were full of excitement. It’s amazing, right? It will highlight your red hair.
“Melon!” Mom snorted as she turned her attention around the globe. My poor smile drooped and I whispered, Cars sure can see me at night. It was horribly awful.
Melon looked a bit confused, I thought. She said, “Cars?” Theo, what about cars? Did I mention her ears are like those of a hawk?”
“It’s fluorescent, you know?” I said.
“Florescent? When is the color apricot floral?
“Aunt Melon. That t-shirt I bought you–it was lime green”
She let out a monotone laugh. You said it was a lime green shirt. The girl at a store told me it was a casual, apricot-colored shirt. I didn’t know anything. I did not do anything.
My mother sat in silence, confused by her hasty correction. Melon turned her head towards me, and she reached for my hand to kiss my goodbye. It’s amazing how fast you are growing up. It’s both amazing and terrifying to know.” She paused for a moment before turning her attention to the golden retriever at her side. “Turbo, what are you hungry for?” She glanced back at her and we tried to keep a friendly vibe. That was something she hated. As she rose from her chair, I gave her a polka-dot umbrella. Great Aunt Melon was led by the guide-dog on four legs to the backdoor, avoiding any puddles. She said, “I nearly forgot!” I am grateful for your hospitality. Ta-ta!” We knew she was fine to come home as she lived only a few blocks away.
Mom and my eyes met on the opposite side of the ground. Our chairs were slightly offset from each other.
As she fished through her bag, she exclaimed “Oh! I almost forgot!” It was! I was finally grateful that she remembered to give it to me. It gave me a strange, tingling feeling. It was small enough to fit in my purse so I assumed it was pocket-sized. I quickly said a prayer for the man that was up there. It was not something moronic, I hoped. It would have been enough if she had a wad of money. Instead, she took out a shiny, dark object and illuminated it in her hand. As I saw it, my eyes swelled with joy. After six months of being bombarded by commercials, it became clear that this polished rectangle was the latest limited edition smartphone. It wasn’t released yet to the public. It was euphoric. My smile was interrupted by a confused expression. What is the secret to my mom’s ability to get me this smile?
The question was dropped and replaced by an image showing the other boys at school. As the only sophomore with no phone, I would be treated with respect. My daydream was interrupted by my mother’s voice saying, “I have to text the girls and inquire when we’re meeting up,” while her thumbs scrolled through the letters on the screen. I was bothered by the polka-dot glasses she found at Rite-Aid’s checkout line. They sat on her nose.
“Mom! Stop! I reached for my phone and continued shouting, “Text them!”
“Theo! “Theo!” Your mother shouting at you? This is my cellphone.”
“But! I thought, “But!”
“Oh honey. Didn’t you tell me? Cheryl’s husband turned 70 last week. We’re celebrating at Pinocchio’s on Lake Street.
I stared at Cheryl in confusion, asking “Who’s Cheryl?” I hadn’t heard of the name of my friend before. Mom would often do this. She would suddenly make plans with a great friend with whom she hadn’t been in a while. She said, “Oh, come on Cheryl, she used to work alongside me before I got this job.”
“Nope, don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied as my heart sank to my toes. It was actually my birthday.
I hoped she would take me to a mall to get a new shirt. She could even take me to the mall to exchange my shirt for something cooler. Mother of year. Truly.
To avoid any further humiliation, I decided to get up from my chair to walk towards the back door. I turned the knob and she hadn’t even looked at her phone. I glanced at the clock above my kitchen sink as I entered. It was five o’clock. I continued through my kitchen, along the narrow hallway to my bedroom for change. I took the pickle shirt and stuffed it in my backpack. As I headed towards the front door, my hoodie was taken off and I changed into sweats.
The bus stop was only a block away so I didn’t have too walk.
I decided to walk up the street instead of standing on damp benches. Instead, the elderly man was bald with a mustache and grim expression. He offered his bridge to a pair circular tortoise glasses with circular lenses. He wore a jet-black shirt and crimson cardigan. I noticed that his smoking slippers had been completely soaked when I looked down at them. As an alternative to his umbrella, he kept a damp paper nearby. He smiled at my face and gave me a weak smile. I did the same, but it was awkward. I have never been good to strangers. I glanced back and saw a line formed. As our grand car arrived, I signaled for the crimson male to move in front. I was second and he was first to get on the bus.
As I reached out for the quarters that were jangled about during my walk, the bus driver rubbed his belly. But instead of reaching for them, he pulled the fabric from the pocket. The hole seemed to be just big enough to hold every single quarter.
I took deep breaths and began to walk towards the back. I was about to cross the middle doors. His husky voice interrupted me just as I was about walking on. He said, “Woah! Hold on kid. “That’ll be $2.50,” he demanded, as he took a sip of the straw he had inserted into his large glass of soda.
“Um, yeah that’s right…you can see the hole in my pocket. I think the quarters must have fallen out while I was walking up this hill. I was kinda in an edgy rush. Can I still get on? This is it, sir. Sir, please?
He gave me a hard look. “Kid. No fare– no ride. It’s as simple as that.
“I may have more change in my bag.” Please give me a second. My fellow passengers, who waited outside, began to make disconcerting comments as the bus driver started tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.
“Kid. I’m gonna have you get off the bus. He pointed to the back doors.
“That won’t need to be necessary.” Crimson man laughed as he marched up the middle bus with his metrocard at his disposal. Don’t worry kid. “I know what Tuesday can be like.”
My eyes were blown away. “Thank you, sir.”
“Alright, alright. Let’s stop talking. Get on your feet, kids. “Geez,” the bus driver couldn’t care less.
Crimson boy returned to the bus’s back. I took a seat at the front. Those who were late tried to get through all the front doors quickly.
As the bus sped by, I was able to see the road pass me. It stopped at every stop until it stopped. I was greeted by the mall.
I wasn’t sure if it would. I was sure it wouldn’t. I stood up on the bus and waved goodbye. I was now 15 years old. I was now fifteen and had survived another year. I knew that I would be able to get through the next one. I returned it and used the cash to buy a button down in crimson. I went to the restaurant and ordered a double with extra grilled onion and spicy peppers. I washed it with a strawberry smoothie.
