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What started off as a good morning has gone downhill quickly. I’m ready to get her to the girls and be able to take a step away to cool off. My steps accelerate as I walk around the three and head toward the stockroom that holds the trolleys. Luca can steer the women down. I need to be alone with my thoughts so that I don’t say anything I’ll regret.
Shayne
Julius’s legseat up the space in front of us, and my shorter limbs have a hard time keeping up. His words were harsh but needed. I was wrong and have no room to be unkind. He’s been nothing but compassionate and giving, and Mera and I have happily taken.
What’s wrong with me?
Why am I acting this way?
This isn’t me.
In his haste to get away from me, I don’t get the chance to admit how wrong I was before he’s sat himself inside of a cart and is off without another word.
“So, yeah. He’s a little sensitive at times,” Luca rambles. “Give him a little while and he’ll be over it. We have a two and a three-seater, seeing as it has to be steered and navigated by a hand wheel. Since you ladies don’t know the train rails, we’ll take the one big enough for all three of us.
“I didn’t mean for it to come across like it did,” I whisper. “I’ve never been good with my words and communication,” I divulge.
“She’s not lying,” Mera tells him. “I’m usually her spokesperson. She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body like I do. I don’t shy away from confrontation like she does.”
“I can see that. Like I said, give him some time and he’ll come around. Your doubts and animosity have him conflicted,” Luca confides.
“How so?” I ask.
Luca clears his throat, then answers, “You’ve sparked something inside of him that we thought died when his wife did. He’s not sure how to feel about it nor how to respond. Give him a chance to weed things out, and when he’s ready, he’ll talk to you about it.”
“Just be patient. He’s a man who doesn't know how to express himself without doing so in an uproar,” Mera surmises, patting my hand in sympathy. “These two are more beast than man.”
“True facts,” Luca agrees, nodding his head, not looking shameful or slighted. “After you.” It’s only then I snap out of it and that I notice he’s dragged the three-seater cart out from storage. Luca lifts his hand to keep us from losing our balance. “Your chariot awaits.”
I’m both terrified and giddy to get inside and see what awaits us as we travel. This is the most exciting thing I’ve ever done. It’s as close to a roller coaster as I’ve ever gotten. The thrill of the unknown should terrify me, yet it doesn’t. If anything, the daredevil within wakes up, pushing me to climb inside and be adventurous.
We start off slowly, our speed slightly picking up, but it’s nothing that gets my adrenaline pumping, and it’s not the thrill I was looking for. Seems my initial excitement was for nothing—the ride is more of us coasting down the rails, nearly boring. Instead of being disappointed, I sit back and let myself unwind. I contemplate the different ways to apologize to Julius for acting so paranoid and downright rude. Sometimes my mouth gets away from me, but never to the extent that it did earlier.
I’m not sure what happened or why I felt comfortable enough to lash out with the attitude I did. He, Luca, and the girls have been nothing but kind and welcoming. But this world they live in, it’s one I’ve desperately tried to escape—futilely wanted to put in the back of my mind and pretend wasn’t my birthright.
I don’t want to be hardened by life. I don’t want frown lines to mar my face. I want laugh lines… marks of a happy life.
Some people enjoy the power and fear they inflict on others, but not me. I’d love to live a life of peace and solitude instead of one where I’m in the limelight, ducking behind cars, while there’s a shootout surrounding me and placing me in danger. Nor do I want to be stuck in the middle of men’s power plays. I want to be an average, everyday woman. I don’t like being the center of attention, never have. I don’t want to be a pretty trinket someone can dangle on their arm. I want the white picket fence, go to my nine-to-five job, come home, and cook dinner for my husband and children.
Selfish much, Shayne,I internally chide myself. Those were a lot of I’s happening in that innate commentary.
“Here we are,” Luca says, breaking me out of my inner scolding.
“That was quick,” I comment as he stands and steps out.
“It’s a good thing we didn’t have to walk that far,” Mera states, snickering. “My blisters would have blisters. We never had the chance to exercise much outside of strolls through the garden. Shaynie and I would’ve needed to stop for breaks.”
“Y’all didn’t have PE?” Luca inquires.
“Not in the traditional sense,” I remark. “We did calisthenics once a week, but that was the extent of our physical exertion.”
“That sucks.” Luca whistles. “In school, we had an hour a day. It’s how we learned to play sports, had drills, did a shit load of running, played dodgeball. The workouts were tiring as hell, but it’s damn good for the body.”
“Some of the girls did Jazzercise on the weekends. I was always envious. But dancing, in any form, was forbidden.”
“Seems as if a lot was forbidden from you ladies,” Luca complains. “There’s a difference between a sheltered life and an isolated one. If there’s anything you’d like to try, let us know. We’ll do whatever we can to make sure you get a chance to explore it.”
“Thank you, Luca.”
