Searching for Normal

by C. J. Darlington

  Despite my trepidation, I could feel myself relax. At least I was relaxed until the stocky, middle-aged woman came up behind me.

  “Who are you?”

  I swung around, startled. “I . . .”

  Her hair was short and graying, and she actually wore a T-shirt in the chilly air. Jeans tucked into muck boots and a pair of dirty work gloves completed the look. She reminded me of a bulldog.

  “You here for the job?”

  “Job?”

  “I’ll take that as a no.”

  “You’re hiring?”

  The woman walked past me, heading toward the barn. “Stall help. Mornings.”

  I don’t know why, but I instantly wanted to work here. Can I manage it before school? I’ll have to get up super early, and I’m not at all sure my aunt would agree since I am already helping her in the bookstore.

  “We’re a private farm,” the woman said, looking me up and down. “No drop-ins unless you know someone here.”

  “I . . .”

  Why am I suddenly without words and sounding like an idiot?

  “Name?” the woman peeled off her gloves.

  “Shay.”

  “That’s a new one.”

  It wasn’t uncommon for people to wonder about my name, and I kinda liked that it was different. Izzy had giggled when I’d first introduced myself. She’d said, “Hey, Shay,” and its rhyming quality amused her.

  “Did you—” the woman glanced around, “—fly here or get dropped off?”

  I reached for my cell phone, ready to call my aunt before she got too far. “Sorry, I didn’t know this was a private—”

  The woman waved me off. “Help me drop hay, and I’ll show you around.”

  Um . . . okay.

  “I’m Janie.”

  I returned her very firm handshake feeling like the bones in my fingers would crunch from the pressure.

  “Nice grip,” she said, then let me go. “You know horses?”

  “A little.”

  Janie waved for me to follow as she opened a side door to the barn. As we passed the horse stalls, I was disappointed to see they were all empty, though it made sense. They were probably on day turnout now that the nights were cold.

  “I’ll drop; you stack.”

  Janie walked off and left me alone in the barn, and I stood there wondering why in the world she was trusting a complete stranger.

  A hole appeared in the ceiling, a trap door she’d opened from the loft. Janie’s head appeared, and then she called down, “Incoming!”

  A hay bale dropped from the hole and thudded at my feet in a burst of dust.

  “Stack it in the empty stall!” Janie called. “The one without bedding.”

  I did as I was told. I didn’t have gloves, so the baling twine dug into my fingers, but I decided not to hesitate and just stacked the hay as best I could in the stall they’d designated for that purpose.

  Thirty bales later, I was sweating under my jacket and covered in pieces of hay. A few strands had somehow made it down my shirt and into my bra, scratching and poking at my skin.

  I was trying to get it out as modestly as I could when Janie came back down. She chuckled when she saw me. “Happens to all of us,” she said.

  “Do you give lessons here?”

  “Nope.” Janie brushed off the fronts of her jeans. “Just have boarders.”

  My shoulders dropped.

  “You wanting to ride?”

  “It’s been a long time,” I said. “I needed to be around horses again.”

  “Horses are good for the soul.” Janie gave me another once-over, and I wondered what she saw. Do I look like a horse girl? I thought of Jade and how she’d mocked my clothes. Here I fit right in.

  Janie grabbed a broom and started sweeping the cement aisle still littered with hay. “I’ve only got one in right now, but you’re welcome to visit her.” She pointed toward a stall halfway down the aisle.

  I walked over and peeked inside. A small, dark-gray mare stood up against the back wall napping with her back leg cocked. She looked almost small enough to be a pony. Why was she inside and not out with her friends?

  “Abscessed hoof,” Janie said, answering my question as if she’d known what I was thinking. Hoof abscesses could be incredibly painful for the animal, and sometimes the only treatment was to wait until they burst and drained.

  “Hi, mare,” I said.

  I saw her ears point toward me, and she woke up. The top half of the divided stall door was open, so the little horse limped over to me and I was able to pet her face, surprised she let me. If she was in pain, I wouldn’t have blamed her for staying in her corner and not paying me any mind.

  “What’s her name?” I asked.

  “Ava.”

  I rubbed the mare’s forehead, and she sighed. Her skin was dark except for right on her nose, where a white patch with pink skin underneath stood out.

  Janie’s sweeping became rhythmic, and I just stood there with the mare until the woman had finished. I wondered what Ava’s life had been like. How many owners had she had? Was she happy?

  An hour later I climbed into my aunt’s Jeep—dirty but happy. I’d needed that more than I knew. I was about to broach the subject of working here when I saw my aunt’s face. She did not look happy.

  “What?” I asked.

  “We have a problem,” Aunt Laura said.

  Chapter 18

  “GINNY CALLED IN SICK.” Aunt Laura zipped into her parking space behind the bookstore.

  I knew where this was going. My calm, relaxed Saturday was about to turn into a crazy day working in the bookstore. But after the morning at the barn, I felt I could handle it. This was where I needed to be right now, and I decided helping my aunt today was something I could give back.

  “Thank you so much,” Aunt Laura said and gave me a quick, sideways hug as we walked into the storeroom.

  Wow. She must really be desperate.

  Then Aunt Laura looked me over and cringed. “Shower first. Quick.”

  I laughed and ran upstairs. It surprised me that she trusted me, a Luddite math hater, with checkouts on her iPad-like kiosk, but that’s where I ended up after my shower. I rang up customers and kept the free coffee and cookie station stocked. Aunt Laura kept a donations jar on the table that helped offset the cost. Around Christmas, people got generous, and she used the extra money to buy decorations and silly Santa hats. And in the rare case that there was a lot extra, she might pocket it.

  Sitting behind the counter with Matilda curled up on a chair behind me, I tried not to look as bored as I felt. I loved books, but reading them was different than selling them. One plus was that from my perch I got to people-watch the patrons without appearing weird.

  Book people were an interesting lot, and Saturdays brought out all ages and types of customers. Parents dragged their kids to my aunt’s storytelling sessions, where she roped in one of her employees or friends to dress up as a character in the story. So far, I’d managed to avoid that fate, but before I arrived, Amelia had once come as the Cat in the Hat and dramatically read the book to eager kiddos.

  College students with their earbuds and laptops confiscated any available chair or table positioned throughout the store. Some sat on the hard floor. Church ladies bought books for their women’s groups, and retirees picked up bestsellers to pass the time.

  I tried to finish Whence the Night Comes in between customers but couldn’t. I’d had a nightmare about being buried alive in a coffin and decided D. L. Morrows wasn’t for me.

  An hour and a half into my “shift” Jade and Kelsey and two more of their friends walked into the bookstore.

  Oh, man.

  They were laughing and joking, and I wondered what in the world they’d want to read. Neither of the girls struck me as the bookish type, but people could fool you, as I knew far too well.

  I caught a whiff of lavender perfume as the four of them walked right past without a word. Fine by me. Their group made a beeline f
or the alcove where Amelia, Izzy, Tessa, and I often hung out, and I wondered if somehow Jade or Kelsey knew that was our spot. Not that it was reserved explicitly for us, but it felt like a violation to have those girls sitting in our beanbag chairs.

  “Excuse me, miss?”

  I hadn’t even seen the guy in the tweed coat walk over. He stood right in front of my counter and held out two military biographies.

  Is it weird that it unnerves me I can’t see the alcove from here? I felt vulnerable not knowing where Jade or Kelsey had landed. Aunt Laura was back in her bookstore office working on inventory or something like that. I could call her if I needed anything, but I was determined to handle whatever came myself.

  The customers thinned after a while, and Jade appeared.

  “You’re out of coffee,” she said, pretending to pour a cup in the air.

  I’d just made a fresh pot twenty minutes ago. I came around the counter and headed to the coffee station. It wasn’t anything fancy, but my aunt felt it was important to provide something warm and enticing to her customers. We only had to clean up a few spills a week.

  “Oh, and the cookies are gone too.” Jade headed back to her friends, and I quickly poured more French roast grounds into the maker and refilled the cookie tray with chocolate chip and oatmeal raisin.

  I glanced at the donation jar.

  Empty.

  At least a couple of George Washingtons had peered out at me through the glass when I’d last filled the coffee pot. Before I could stop it, a flame burst in my gut. I glanced toward the alcove where Jade and Kelsey and whoever the other girls were sat talking in whispers and sipping paper cups full of the coffee I’d made.

  Maybe I should’ve thought it through a little bit more, but I dumped the coffee grounds into the filter, poured spring water into the tank, flipped the switch, and grabbed the empty donations jar. I marched over to the girls.

  “Where is it?” I demanded, holding out the empty jar.

  Kelsey, her awesome hair looking like a lion’s mane, glanced up at me from the closest beanbag. “Girls, this is the kid I was telling you about.”

  Heat rose up my neck.

  “Cut the bull and give it back,” I said.

  “I don’t know what the heck you’re talking about,” Kelsey said. Except she didn’t say heck.

  There was something about her face. She wasn’t smiling per se, but I could see the smirk in her eyes. It was like I had stepped on a bomb, and she held the detonator switch. I wanted to kick her leg, which was inches from my booted foot.

  Stop it, Shay. Stop it now, while you can.

  I tried to relax myself by consciously breathing.

  “I’m going to ask you one more time.” Deep breath in. Long breath out. “Give me back the money you took from this jar, or I will tell my aunt.”

  “Will you?”

  “And she will not be happy.”

  Kelsey laughed. Her friends joined in.

  “I didn’t take your stupid money,” Kelsey said.

  “Yes, you did.”

  She stretched her arms above her head and yawned. “Seems more like something you’d do.” Kelsey stared up at me. How can I be the one who feels small when she is the one on the floor? I know for a fact she took the cash, but there is absolutely no way I can prove it. Her word against mine. My aunt would believe me, but she’d need proof. Kelsey could’ve hidden it anywhere.

  Walk away. That’s what I should do. I know it, but it will take all my strength. It’s one thing to pick on me. But screw over my aunt or my friends? No, that is not okay.

  I decided to try one more time.

  “My aunt needs that money. Please put it back.”

  Jade, who was sitting on the love seat like Amelia had the other night, gave me a mock frown. “Aw, I’m sorry. It must be hard to be poor.”

  “She’s not poor; she just—”

  “Shay.” Kelsey shifted on the beanbag. “We’re kind of trying to have some girl time here. No offense, but if you want to talk to me, school would be a better place.”

  She gave me the sweetest smile, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think she might almost care.

  I wanted to throw the jar at her head, but I managed to control myself and went back to the checkout counter, where two people were impatiently waiting.

  “Sorry,” I muttered.

  I couldn’t think for another ten minutes as the line grew. It was good business for my aunt, but I was so frazzled that I gave the wrong change to two people. I sat down once the line cleared. What am I supposed to do? Tell my aunt without proof? They’d just lie, and what if I remembered things wrong? Is that possible? Kelsey’s denial seemed real, but I know what I saw, right?

  My phone vibrated with an incoming text, so I checked it. Tessa.

  Still on for tonight?

  I texted back: Yes, definitely.

  Tessa: Looking forward to it! Can I bring anything?

  Me: Me too, and nope. Pizza okay?

  Tessa: Sounds good. See you in a few hours.

  I kept my phone out on the counter. Seeing Kelsey and Jade and their buddies made my heart yearn for the safety of my own friends. We might be labeled prudes or churchies or something even crasser by the likes of Jade or Kelsey, but I realized maybe I didn’t mind. Except I am the one with the secret. I don’t want to end up as a snobby bad girl, but do I really fit in with my friends?

  I tried to distract myself with a Mason King video, but that was a mistake. I’d managed to forget about him for most of the day, and it all came crashing back into my mind when I saw him effortlessly riding a mustang in a packed arena.

  Then Kelsey and Jade were standing in front of me.

  “You look cute back there,” Jade said, snapping another photo of me before I could protest. Like it would’ve made a difference, but weren’t there rules about getting someone’s permission before using their likeness? Probably not in this stupid, digital age.

  “Oh, totally,” Kelsey agreed.

  “You just going to stand there, or did you have something to buy?” I was trying to sound tough, but I wasn’t at all feeling it. Hopefully they wouldn’t be able to tell.

  Kelsey picked up a keychain with a small book stack carved from wood as its fob. My aunt found them on Etsy and arranged with the artist to consign them in the shop.

  “These are neat,” Kelsey said.

  “They’re twenty-five dollars,” I said.

  “Wow,” Kelsey threw the fob to Jade, who caught it. “Expensive.”

  Jade smiled. “Handmade?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Do you take Visa?”

  I thought back to the analogy I’d first associated with these girls. Cats playing with mice. I didn’t want to play this game, but I didn’t see I had much choice. I needed to pretend they were any other customer and not let them bait me.

  “All major credit cards,” I replied.

  Kelsey pulled a wallet out of her purse. She slipped out a card and started to hand it to me.

  “Oh, wait, not that one.” She yanked her hand away and stuffed the card back into the wallet, removing another. It looked like an American Express. Then she thought better of that one too and took out a maroon-colored Mastercard.

  Kelsey handed it to me, and I went to take it. For a moment both our fingers held the plastic. I pulled it, but she didn’t let go.

  “Hold up,” she said.

  “Can you please just make up your mind.”

  She elbowed Jade beside her. The other two girls were quietly snickering. Had they planned this? I glanced around the room, but unfortunately, we were the only ones present. Light shone in the front window, cascading through the air and illuminating dust particles. Aunt Laura had opted against curtains since she wanted sidewalk shoppers to be able to look into the shop and get a feel for the ambience.

  I let go of the credit card, and Kelsey held it up in front of her face and winked at me. “I’m thinking I don’t need this after all.”
/>   I nearly rolled my eyes at her dramatics.

  She leaned over the counter, dangling the key fob in front of me. Then without a word she tucked it into her pocket. Jade reached around her friend and took one of the remaining signed copies of Whence the Night Comes and tucked it under her arm. “My dad will love this,” she said.

  I felt myself starting to panic as I realized what they were doing. “You can’t just—”

  “Oh, but we can.” Kelsey shrugged and nodded her friends to the door.

  “No!” I rushed around the counter, ready to physically block their way. “I’ll call the cops.”

  “Shay.” Kelsey said my name in a condescending tone. “I told you we’d let you know how you could help us.”

  “You’re stealing!”

  “It’s not stealing if someone else pays for it,” Jade said.

  Kelsey poked a finger at my chest. Hard. “That would be you, my friend.”

  Without thinking, I shoved Kelsey’s shoulders. “Jerk!”

  She stumbled backward into her besties. They managed to keep her from falling, but the move flipped a switch in the girl. Her eyes narrowed, and she gave me a look that scared me.

  “Stupid move,” she snarled, glancing up at the security camera near the door.

  And then all four of them left, leaving me standing there in an anxious fury.

  Chapter 19

  MY HAND SHOOK as I rang up the last customer. I hadn’t been able to stop my body’s reaction, and it chased me to my shift’s end. The moment Peter, the retired guy with the shaved head who worked some weekends for my aunt, arrived to relieve me at the kiosk, I dashed upstairs to the apartment hoping my aunt was nowhere to be found.

  I couldn’t face her right now. Couldn’t face anyone.

  Stanley met me at the door in a flurry of greyhound excitement, but I ignored even him and ran to my bedroom, though it wasn’t really mine. It was my aunt’s. Just like this store and everything in this apartment except my clothes.