Times have been hard for those in the lemonade business lately. Braxton tried and tried to sell his lemonade thinking that the carnival would surely increase his sales. But between the shitty weather and the fact that Statone was always on his case, Braxton was getting bored with his Country Time endeavors, not to mention, he felt like he was getting sick. It was probably from running around in nothing but a business suit all winter long. If only the poor little boy had a parent around to reprimand him for such things.
Despite his oncoming cold and the violent lightning storm, Braxton was in a fairly good mood. He had just talked to his dad for the first time in ages. And better yet, his dad promised to come home soon. His dad claimed that he was about to finish up some big business deal and could come spend time with Braxton.
Braxton knew better than to rely on his dad's empty promises of coming home. But a phone call could make his day, just knowing that his dad still thought of him. His dad had always told Braxton how they were going to get out of Wilshire Tower one of these days. He said that's why he was never home, he had to work in order for them to move.
Even though Braxton was just a little boy, who admired his father as many boys do, he was smart enough not to get his hopes up. He somehow knew that he would be stuck in Wilshire Tower until he got himself out. How to go about that however, he wasn't sure.
That's why he was so adamant about his lemonade. He figured if he was a successful business man, maybe he could be successful enough for both him and his dad. He had even checked out books about how to be successful from Ms. Edna, at the library. But based on experience, lemonade stands were apparently not the way to go.
Braxton took the blow of yet another absence at school and decided to curl up and watch cartoons instead. He could hear a faint squabbling noise outside of his window eight levels below and profane shouts coming from the butcher. Braxton's curiosity usually would have gotten the better of him... but right now all he wanted to do was stay inside, by himself.
The charred aftermath of the burnings hung like dead air, still and impossible to ignore on each individual in the town. All was in disarray, which would have usually created a sensory overload for his small mind. This time, however, it was as though the chaos was more predictable than the fluff of life before this apocalyptic nightmare.
ReplyDeleteRealist or pessimist? Hard to tell sometimes.
The contained workings of this small town drew Louie in, and without doubt, he knew fate had turned these sour events just for him. It was punishment for his feeble attempts to live normally. Kicking a flyer off his shoe, he checked his watch for no reason at all. There was no reason for anything anymore, really.
He walked toward the library, sweating, absorbing the scents of the smoky remains and the liquor-sharp tang, that stunk like a thousand bars from hell. Braxton Chambers, perhaps the only one who could move on with life after such an event, sat weeping on the steps to the library.
Louie walked to the boy, sat next to him, and asked, "What did the alien say to the librarian?"
"Take me to your reader."
He didn't laugh.