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From the days when it rained.

Chapter - 5.

(Everyone has a secret.)


Seventh day at the work.

I woke up little bit later than I'd usually. However, I made it to the store at time.
Mr. Patrick was at the door, standing and looking at his watch.

"Oh dear cheryl."

He said as he saw me and leaned on for a hug. It was brief and he smelled like somebody had thrown a bucket of shit over a stack of rotten meat loaves. Well, not that bad but not so far of it.

"I am in hurry, I gotta go somewhere, you keep the store in your watch, close it whenever you like to once it is past 9."

He said.

That felt good, so good that if he would have told me that he was going to say that. I might have given him a hug all by myself or two if he asked to.
Ah, not maybe but who cares.

Cheryl campbell, I thought, is the store queen for a day.
Though it was not the best place to become a queen of yet it sounded almost good while pictured in mind.

Mr. Patrick left soon after I got in. I did not change today. I liked my pink tee shirt and black jeans. They looked good on me, I looked good in them.
There was a large mirror in small room at the back of store where we kept goods. I locked it in and stared myself for a few minutes. The mirror in my bathroom, which also happened to be the only mirror at my home was small enough not to show me all at once.
I wanted to see myself, the whole of me.
I specifically liked my breasts, Ryan young from highschool was mad for them. He was gross. So that if asked, he may or may not remember my face but I was sure he would recognise it's cheryl campbell's damn pair of breasts if shown to him.
I liked it though. Everyone is mad for something, I had some of those things. It was funny in its own way.

I got back to the window, and turned on the radio.

"From the days when it rained,
When the birds could really fly,
From the days when it rained,
When you had love in eyes.."

I liked the song, I sang along it. It was my song now.
For a short while, I believed everything was mine.

A few people came by the noon, until I felt sleepy and rolled on the window shutters at the doors and windows.

It was dark now, I left the chair and grabbed my uniform from the locker in the backroom and laid it upon the floor behind the chair at back of the counter and lay upon it.
For a while I kept thinking about everything, my mother back at the home watching the road across the window, Mr. Patrick somewhere trying to look across some bras, Ian and the skinny boy laughing somewhere. The world was a big place I realised, I had it in my small heart.
I fell asleep.

"Cheryl" , "cheryl!" , "wake up you damn sleepyhead."

I heard somebody saying it loud.

I opened my eyes and saw both of them with their flat faces pressed upon the glass window.

"Yeah, yeah, awaken, wait."

I stood up and adjusted myself.
" we gotta go."

Ian said.

"That's not how you ask someone to go with you."

Everett interrupted him.

"You try then, shithead."

Everett nodded and made a stupid gargle sound with his throat. And said.

"Yeah, so cheryl. We fucking gotta go before it's late."

"But where?"

I asked.

"Where all the fucking people go on a sunday, to the mighty fare at dallas."

"All the fucking people don't have a store on their watches though."

I said lifting both my hands to my waist.

"We vote."

Everett said.

"We vote."

Ian said.

"No, we don't."

I laughed.

"Come on."

Everett said.

"Ah, okay, but first I need to call my mom about it and then you gotta purchase some real shit from the store so that it could make up to the customers I am going to miss being at the fare."
"Yeah alright."

Ian said.

I reached out my hand to the phone to call my mom but it rung in halfway.


I signalled to both of them.
They nodded.

"Hello, this is cheryl from Patrick's groceries how may I help you?"

"No, Mr. Patrick is not the store today."

"Yeah sure. What's your name again."

"Thank you, bye."

I hung up the phone.

"Who was it?"

Ian asked.

"It said Martha taylor."

"She lives in the same block, next street to us."

I remembered Mr. Patrick said Martha is his wife.

"It's his husband's store."

I said.

"Yeah, I know. He is a freak though."

I nodded.

I sold them some chips, colas, candies, peppermint sticks and icecreams. I sold myself a packet of sweet breads.

I closed the store and we left for the fare at eight pm.