Tell Me a Fairytale
Scared of Heights
Suddenly, the cart shook violently, and we both jumped back into our original positions. Once he realized our lives weren't threatened, he laughed again. What a wonderful laugh he had. "Damn, this thing is old!" I still felt a little frightened, as I had been since the time with my mother, but something about that boy's laugh put me at ease like Maia's voice would have.
"What's wrong?" he asked, all too knowingly.
"I'm a little scared of heights," I admitted half of the truth.
He nodded to show he understood, but said, "I don't think that's it."
I turned to avert his gaze. Seconds passed before he spoke again.
"I lost someone close to me two months ago," he whispered, so softly, it was a miracle that I could hear him over the rest of the fair. I didn't turn back, but watched him spill secrets from the corner of my eye. "Lately, everything reminds me of her. I continue to smell the perfume she used to wear, the meals she used to cook. I hear her voice sometimes, in my head, and in other people. Mom had such a pretty voice."
The tears welling up in his eyes seemed to be mine, because I could feel them. "I lost my mother too," I said, struggling to find the right words. "She used to sing to me. Your voice, your eyes... you remind me of her."
Before he could respond, I heard someone shout, "LUCY!"
I looked down over the edge of the seat to see Vanessa yelling up at me, but I could no longer understand her words. I spent the rest of the ride futilely shouting, "What?" at her.
When we were let off, I met Vanessa outside of the gate. "What were you trying to say?" I asked her.
"Who is this?" she asked, not hearing me at all, but totally preoccupied with the stranger.
"Oh, this is..." I stopped when I realized I hadn't gotten his name.
"Spencer," he interjected, extending a hand to Vanessa.
Vanessa ignored him completely, and he put his hand down, disappointed. Appalled, Vanessa stared angrily at me. "You didn't know his name?" she accused me. "You two were up there making out, and you didn't even know his name?!"
"We were not making out!" I defended myself. Then I turned to Spencer and murmured, "By the way, I'm Lucinda."
He had been faintly blushing, but recovered from it and replied, "It was nice to meet you, Lucinda. We shall have to do this again sometime."
"Indeed we shall," I responded.
"Do you think I could have your phone number?" he asked, glancing over at Vanessa, as if seeking her approval.
But I didn't need anyone's approval to pass out Miss Geraldine Fisher's home phone number to a stranger. He took a Sharpie from his pocket, quickly scrawled the digits onto the back of his hand, and thanked me.
I smiled. "See you soon?"
"Very soon." He laughed again—God, did I love that laugh—and then he departed.
"What's wrong?" he asked, all too knowingly.
"I'm a little scared of heights," I admitted half of the truth.
He nodded to show he understood, but said, "I don't think that's it."
I turned to avert his gaze. Seconds passed before he spoke again.
"I lost someone close to me two months ago," he whispered, so softly, it was a miracle that I could hear him over the rest of the fair. I didn't turn back, but watched him spill secrets from the corner of my eye. "Lately, everything reminds me of her. I continue to smell the perfume she used to wear, the meals she used to cook. I hear her voice sometimes, in my head, and in other people. Mom had such a pretty voice."
The tears welling up in his eyes seemed to be mine, because I could feel them. "I lost my mother too," I said, struggling to find the right words. "She used to sing to me. Your voice, your eyes... you remind me of her."
Before he could respond, I heard someone shout, "LUCY!"
I looked down over the edge of the seat to see Vanessa yelling up at me, but I could no longer understand her words. I spent the rest of the ride futilely shouting, "What?" at her.
When we were let off, I met Vanessa outside of the gate. "What were you trying to say?" I asked her.
"Who is this?" she asked, not hearing me at all, but totally preoccupied with the stranger.
"Oh, this is..." I stopped when I realized I hadn't gotten his name.
"Spencer," he interjected, extending a hand to Vanessa.
Vanessa ignored him completely, and he put his hand down, disappointed. Appalled, Vanessa stared angrily at me. "You didn't know his name?" she accused me. "You two were up there making out, and you didn't even know his name?!"
"We were not making out!" I defended myself. Then I turned to Spencer and murmured, "By the way, I'm Lucinda."
He had been faintly blushing, but recovered from it and replied, "It was nice to meet you, Lucinda. We shall have to do this again sometime."
"Indeed we shall," I responded.
"Do you think I could have your phone number?" he asked, glancing over at Vanessa, as if seeking her approval.
But I didn't need anyone's approval to pass out Miss Geraldine Fisher's home phone number to a stranger. He took a Sharpie from his pocket, quickly scrawled the digits onto the back of his hand, and thanked me.
I smiled. "See you soon?"
"Very soon." He laughed again—God, did I love that laugh—and then he departed.