Get up Whenever You Fall

My shift at Galileo's today isn't particularly exhilarating. As a matter of fact, only a few customers are present, and their chatters are minimized to a mild buzz. Everything here is smooth and under control.

Although there is a guy here who keeps trying to grasp my attention.

"Hey, can you give me more gravy for this?" The guy waves an arm vigorously, motioning for me to come over.

I sigh and snatch a container, soon pouring it with gravy. "Here you go," I mumble, and he responds with a gratified smile. "Thanks," he says sweetly. He's around one or two years older than me, but his smile lessens that age gap between us.

'Mind if I also add a punch in the face?' I want to say, but my manners get the best of me.

"You're welcome," I nod and quickly skitter away before I do something I'll regret later on.

Ding! Another customer bustles through the entrance way. Only it isn't any average customer. Judging by his low, dark skinny jeans, red baggy sweater, and a brown beanie atop his maroonish-dyed hair, you'll recognize him as Travis Mueller.

"Why, hi there, Trey," I greet with a lop-sided grin, referring to Travis by his well-known nickname. "How's the weather treating you?" I'm suddenly shining with gladness.

Trey blinks. "Fine. Why?" He proceeds to a clean table, settling himself there.

"I was wondering since you're wearing a hat, and it's God-awful hot outside."

"Oh, this?" Travis places a hand to his beanie hat and removes it from his head. "Force of habit." He grins sheepishly.

"I see," I nod. I'll do just about anything just to avoid my other male customer. "Just call me when you need me to take your order. In fact, I think I'll just wait by your table."

Travis, having no idea why I'm acting bizarrely, ignores it and decides to play along. "I want... a glass of water."

I wait for him to add more, but that seems to be all he needs. "... that's all?" I query.

"Yeah, pretty much." His facial expression grows blank.

"Okay," I say, "if that's what you want." After I hand him a glass of cool water, my other male customer doesn't fail to snatch my attention again.

"I'd like another glass of water," Other-guy-customer demands. After I give him a bottled water, he smiles sweetly for the tenth time. "I'm Dylan, by the way." He winks.

No, I'm not interested in him, nor do I want to learn his name.

But, being forced not to offend any customer or I'll "get fired within a second" (Mr. Goodjohn's words), I make a tremendous effort to make my happy vendetta. "That's your name?" I giggle, pretentiously, of course. "I thought it would be David or something, since you're pretty buff."

"Yeah," Dylan, a.k.a. other-guy-customer, agrees. "I am, aren't I?"

Gosh, he's conceited too. A wave of chagrin flashes through me, but I regain my composure. Muttering complaints to myself, I head back to Travis' table, who still has some of his bruises visible on his skin.

"Is that guy giving you a hard time?" he asks, sizing up Dylan and narrowing his eyes at him.

"Who? Dylan?" I blink, then dwindle my voice to a whisper. "Yeah, he's been asking for things like gravy and stuff. It's getting annoying."

But if I think about it deeply, maybe Dylan's just getting nervous or something.

"Yeah, I know him," Travis whispers back.

"You do?"

"His name's Dylan, right? There's only one Dylan in town. He's one of the guys that we had a fight with."

Oh. An uneasy feeling sits at the pit of my stomach, churning there and doing somersaults. Now Dylan looks actually dangerous, with some of his muscles exposed for display.

"You don't think he's looking for trouble, do you?" I murmur.

Travis shrugs indifferently. "Who knows?" He glances at me carefully, asking, "Are you scared, Thea?"

"Huh? Me? No." I'm lying, of course.

"Don't worry," Travis assures. "I'll stay here until your work shift's done."

I don't know what to say. "Oh... thank you."



After about four more hours, I glimpse at Dylan's table, and he isn't there anymore. I rove over where Travis usually sits and find him nowhere in sight either.

I admit, I'm pretty disappointed that Travis left even though he promised he'd wait, but I guess I understand how bored he must have been, waiting.

Still, it is very chivalrous of him to stay with me for four hours.

After a couple more hours, I'm finally free to go, and it's already dark. The sky looms with its star spangled darkness and a hanging moon. I push out of the exit door of Galileo's and find a dark figure that awaits me.

"I thought you left hours ago," I laughed.

"No," Travis replies softly, almost yawning, "I just thought waiting outside's better. Let's go."

"Maybe you should go home and get some sleep," I suggest. "You look like you need some."

"I wanna walk you home first," Travis yawns and tries to hide it.

I shiver under a cool breeze that dances past us. "Thanks. Again. Maybe some time I'll serve you a meal at Galileo's for free, but Mr. Goodjohn might object."

"Mr. Goodjohn?" His eyebrows go up.

"He's the cook, or chef," I answer. "He takes his job very seriously. He's strict to other kitchen staff, but he's nice to me. He knows why I'm working at this age, that's why."

To stray him off the topic, I add, "I wanna show you something I've never shown anyone before."

As we get nearer to my humble abode, I circle the house to get to the backyard. My backyard looks cramped and lacks space, but I have a secret. There's a hidden door somewhere there that only I can open with my key.

I grope at the bushes until I find the right spot and unlock the door.

Baffled, Travis follows behind me, hesitant and curious. "What is this place?"

"It's my secret garden," I grin proudly. Under the cold moonlight is a forest of flowers, some hanging on pots, some clinging around the fence for support, and some just standing proudly. The night doesn't show much of their colours, though.

A chunk of leaves rustle, and that makes Travis stiffen. "What's that noise?" Travis asks.

I shrug. "Must be my hamsters. There are two of them: Tammy and Martha. They grew up in my garden, so they're okay. They don't bite or anything, and they're females."

Travis sighs. "Scared the shit outta me."

Tammy, a pure inky gray Russian dwarf hamster, emerges. "That one's Tammy," I point out. "She likes carrots and grass."

"I see," Travis chuckles.

"Why laugh?"

"I've never seen this side of you," Travis explains to me, adding helpful gestures. "I always thought you were just some quiet, hard-working girl that stays at Galileo's for more work shifts."

That's his first impression of me?

"Well," I say shyly, "What do you think of me now?"

"Thoughtful, diligent, and has a good judgment on things." He purses his lips afterward, probably embarrassed of what he just blurted out.

"Honestly," I tell him, "I think you're a good guy, Travis. But there are just times when you're unpredictable."

"Is that so?" He seems amused by this.

"So, do you mind telling me why the guys weren't at Galileo's with you?" I question.

"Lazy asses," is all Travis replies, which is enough to draw me a picture.

Afterward, Travis' sleepiness catches up to him, and I insist on him going home and getting some rest. Eventually, I sleep on my cozy bed, too, with a smile embedded on my face.

I even forgot about the Dylan guy. But I'm proud of myself for finally showing my garden to someone. Neither mom, nor my older sister Arcadia, have ever seen my secret.

And I slowly drift into a happy slumber.