Mercury Sells

We do not accept any outsiders in this town. Mercury Peaks prevents anyone to enter who decides to flout or attempt to meddle with the rules. In order to maintain the peace and amity of the community, we encourage newcomers to take our town policies into a small consideration. Thank you! Hope your visit at Mercury Peaks was cherished.

Don feels her forehead starting to crease as she reads the ‘welcoming sign’ near the town hall. Looking over the list of rules makes Don recall her time back in Cowan Crest. She clicks her tongue at the sight of guideline number eight. It seems like Mercury Peaks embraces the art of curfews and rubrics for everyone in the town.

Don Lee walks away from the sign and rolls her eyes. She leans against her father’s car and chuckles about the guidelines. As her father continues to remove the countless boxes from the vehicle, he manages to give his daughter a stern look and points a finger at the town hall bulletin board.

“Donna Lee take a good look at this board, maybe snap a picture of it with that fancy phone of yours.” Don’s father says derisively. He coughs because of the dust collected on the moving boxes before sternly saying, “That is a serious mechanism to obey, mind you Don, to survive in this place. You don’t know the distress and trouble some kids get into because of dumb actions.”

“Survive?” Don repeats. “This is the twenty-first century dad. I’m sure you’ve done some stupid things here as well but this town isn’t like how you lived it.” Don laughs at her own remark. “Besides, I don’t think you’re going to worry about me because I already have a friend here. And he’s good boy, if you are wondering. God, do you hear myself? I sound like a damn mad woman. Shit, I need a burger.”

“Honestly Don, you need to behave yourself,” her father stresses. “You cannot talk to people the way you are talking to me. I don’t mind it but the people here will.”

“Is Papa Lee nervous of people talking about him and his mischievous daughter?” Don bluntly says. “I mean what is the worst I could get into? Robbing a car? Stealing from the church’s donation box?”

Don’s father shakes his head, placing the last boxes on the road. He thinks to himself for a minute before asking his daughter, “Who’s the friend you made the last time we were here?”

“Leon Lawley.” Don says with confidence. “I am sure you know his dad, Rowan Lawley. He’s the baker on forty-sixth Street. I think his sister is around my age, maybe younger.”

“You got all that information from just one conversation?” Her father asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Well no,” Don says, “I…we, um. I don't want to talk about it,” she stutters, turning away from her father.

“I see,” her father laughs, “You probably met this ‘Leon Lawley’ in his father’s bakery and then magically hit it off? He was working in the bakery and gave you an extra piece of his doughnuts huh?”

“Dad!”

“You brought it all on the table Don! A story that perfect doesn’t happen in real life. Didn’t the teachers at your school teach you that?”

Don rolls her eyes. “He is real dad. Leon is as real as the hairs on your back.”

“Hey, shut up!” her father playfully punches her in her arm and shakes his head. He sighs at the thought of his daughter acting too much like himself.

“Let’s go get that burger. And then you could tell me more about this Leon character,” her father snickers, pulling his daughter into a small hug.