Then, There’s Us

A part of me actually thinks that maybe I should just settle down here in Fair Cliff. This town is not bad. It has its own charms. Like the small cafe selling only the best mushroom pies around. I couldn’t find any other mushroom pies that could top the ones from Slices. Flaky and buttery crust. Sweet fragrant wafting each time you pass by the cafe. A scent reminding me of my childhood. Another part of me believes that the only reason why I think the mushroom pie is good, it’s because I’ve never actually been elsewhere. Maybe there are much better pies in another town that I have yet to discover. Maybe I’ll never look back to Slices once I’m out of here. I have been living under the same sky for 28 years and I have no desire to keep on living here for the next 30 years of my life. They say the sky is vast but I could only see the one from where I’m standing. The sky stretching from Mr Po’s place that is filled with fresh hydrangeas to Ms Bloom’s pink house. It is a weird colour to paint your house with. It stands out too much and it doesn’t go well with the colour scheme of the neighbourhood. “Well honey, you gotta do what makes you happy. Not what everybody expects you to be,” winks Ms Bloom. There is an air of calmness to her. She seems at peace with herself. Something that I don’t see very often with older folks in this town. Especially when they walk into Smashburger to order the usual Big Platter. They look like they are on the edge all the time. Agitated and disconcerted. Maybe the mortgage and bills are sucking the life out of them or the fact that their kids haven’t visited in a while. “Eva, could you pull a double shift today?” “Yeah sure, no problem,” I reply nonchalantly. It is only natural that I pull a double shift. I am on a mission to save as much money possible to start a new life outside Fair Cliff. A few places come to mind and I am having a hard time deciding. Do I want to settle down in another small town or join fellow hustlers in the big, bustling city. It doesn’t matter where I end up going. Settling down anywhere but here - that’s the only thing that matters. While familiarity is great, the environment doesn’t serve me in the way I want to. Not anymore. Though this place makes up most of my core memories and they witness many of my firsts, I think it’s time I bid my goodbye and leave the nest. When something doesn’t serve you anymore, the only thing you could do is replace it. Find something better. I’m on my way to do just exactly that. “You be careful tomorrow, okay? Headphones off when you walk back home.” Martha’s eyes are filled with concerns. She doesn’t budge until she gets an affirmative nod out of me. Martha has been with me at Smashburger for a year now. Bussing tables and doing the dishes while exchanging funny stories on the customers. Despite having only 3 years difference with her, she presents herself as a motherly figure to me. Of course she would be worried about me walking home alone. Any mother would be worried sick if a perpetrator is still on the loose and their daughters know next to nothing when it comes to self-defence. It has only been two months since the last attack occurred. It comes as a shock to the town folks. I’ve never seen quite anything like it in my 28 years here. The town has always been safe and ruckus-free. The only thing that keeps the town buzzing is when Mrs Tupper had an affair with the courier man. It all makes sense now. I do think that we all get our deliveries earlier than usual. We all thought the courier was getting more efficient. Fair Cliff reinforces the night patrol and the town folks keep on reminding each other to be careful when they are alone. They say he would usually sneak up to girls, making an appearance out of nowhere. He’d be wearing a long, washed out grey coat and he wears only that. It makes me shudder just imagining it. What kind of psycho finds pleasure in showing off his genital out in public? I keep on thinking about the possible scenarios that could happen and how I would handle it. He clearly likes it when the victim screams. It excites him. Probably I would stay composed and even make rude remarks on how small his birdie is. Maybe that’ll stop him. “Bye now!” Martha walks out of Smashburger, juggling with a few small takeaways from the diner. It is just me and few other cooks until the end of the shift. There’s not much people coming in today. I could wrap up and head home earlier. As the clock shows 9.30, I drag my feet to the entrance to flip the signage. The diner is closed now. I begin sweeping the floor, squirting antibacterial cleaner all over the tables and wiping them sparkly. The entire diner is filled the sharp lemon scent. I work my way to the last table and move to the counter where there are some small, unnoticeable coffee stains all over it. I’m guessing it is spilled by the last customer because the stain isn’t there when I wipe it not long ago. Packing my satchel bag, I’m ready to call it a day. I walked out the diner all alone and the night is pitch black and quite. You could hear your own footstep dragging over the unevenly tarred road. It’s only a 10-minute walk till I reach home. Somehow tonight feels like a good night to be enjoying a slow walk. I’m taking my time with my steps. That is until I hear footsteps approaching from behind me.