Dinner was over, we were figuring out the bill and sorting our clothes. My sister and I had a few days worth of clothes we were leaving at the restaurant because we had to come back and wanted to make sure they had enough outfits to last until then. I sat there counting out a bunch of $1's. The bill was $92, plus the tip, split between a bunch of us. My aunt sitting next to me was trying to figure out how much tip to leave and how much each person owed. I showed her my method of moving the decimal point and doubling the first digits to leave a 20% tip. My sister was watching me explain and had a proud smile on her face.
I really didn't want to leave my clothes, which included some of my favorite outfits and my favorite little socks. Then my sister said, "We don't need to leave our clothes because when we come back, we'll be wearing different outfits anyway."
"Oh yeah, and they'll probably just throw them away as soon as we leave," I said and happily packed up my clothes into my suitcase and set it on the floor next to the table. I went over to my dad and handed him my money.
When I came back to the table, there were other people sitting there. I said, "Excuse me." They just looked up at me and didn't move. I made my way over to my bag, but before I got there a young blonde boy with big dimples grabbed it and ran out the door. He got into his van and started driving away through the plaza. He had one of those work vans with no door on the driver's side. It was plain and white with no logo. He had a big smile on his face as he weaved around people and objects in his path. I chased after him. He suddenly did a 180 and headed the other way. There was a young girl walking along and before he could swerve out of the way, he hit her. Her body slammed against the front of the van and she slid down to the pavement. Concerned, the boy got out of the van to check on her, his dimples faded as did his smile.
I ran up to the van to retrieve my suitcase, but before I got there another young man jumped in, grabbed it and took off. "Why did they want my stuff?" I thought to myself.
No comments:
Post a Comment