Chapter 3: Attitude

...Mara strives to make a point...

As soon as they met, Mara vowed to introduce Sherry to the larger world. The right attitude was the difference between a rich life and a poor one, she thought. There were two types: “No” and “Yes” people. The No had to be dragged out of a routine existence, protesting all the while: “No, I can’t go. But if I do, I have to be back early.” That attitude was like a wall obstructing the imagination.

She considered herself a Yes. “Yes, let’s surf in the morning and fly to Las Vegas in the afternoon. Yes, let’s catch a show and gamble all night and see that movie when we get back.” Life was a series of connecting activities that, strung together, stretched into a rainbow arching to a pot of gold.

Sherry was rightly challenging the limits someone else had defined and yes she would help. Riley, though, thought she was meddling, causing Mara's eyes to narrow.

So, Mara observed the new roommate with interest and some amusement. Touching base at evening meals, she prompted her to tell what she’d been doing. One night over macaroni and cheese, she described her confusion at an overdue bus that passed without stopping.

“He just pointed behind him.”

“The hitchhiker thumb--reversed,” Riley laughed.

“But why?”

“He’s saying take the bus behind him.”

“There wasn’t one.”

“Typical Muni.” Mara said.

She shared a small victory when she found a smart wool skirt at the second hand. Happily showing it off, she told Mara how much weight she had to lose; she was almost there.

She mentioned going to a church meeting, but complained later that “They wanted to own her time”, and went less often. Mara nodded knowingly.

Once she brought a friend to a meal. Lola was tall, had pale skin, a crop of short cut brown hair and a gold stud in her nose. Her face was like a mask, hiding her emotions. Sometimes differences attract, Mara thought. Sherry confided Lola was going through a difficulty she was helping her through.

Sherry seemed to be making the adjustments all newcomers make, when discovery and acquired knowledge morph into delighted awareness or stoic endurance. All that was fine and good but Mara wanted to do something. Sherry’s upcoming 21st birthday gave her an idea: dinner and dancing. She agreed, but after she returned from celebrating with her family.

*

“I just want to shake her sometimes.”

Riley rested a hand on Mara’s shoulder. Then, standing behind her, he grabbed her other shoulder and started to shake her. The gray-billed cap teetered on her bobbing head.

“Like this?”

“Stop.”

“Does it make anymore sense?”

“Stop, I said.” He sat back down at the kitchen table, a broad smile on his face. Mara looked glum as she pushed the cap back down on her dark hair.

“She liked dinner. So what if she left after the dancing started?”

“She should’ve given it a chance.”

“But it wasn’t the dancing, she said.”

“Yeah, yeah, the atmosphere.”

“Twisting bodies in the dark and a glowing red background. She didn’t feel comfortable.”

“Yes, and will she spend her life running from things that make her uncomfortable?”

*

Early one morning, when Mara rose from bed for a drink of water, she gravitated to the front window to glance outside. When she turned she was startled to see Sherry curled into a ball on the couch and let out a cry.

“Oh!”

Sherry jerked awake, eyes wide with surprise and blinking awareness, pulling the blanket to her chin.

“Sorry,” she stammered, “I know I shouldn’t sleep here—“

Still half asleep, Mara sat beside her to learn what was wrong. At first Sherry leaned away, as if to curl back into a ball, but Mara rubbed her back, telling her she wanted to help. She loosened up and with averted eyes told her about the knocks in the ceiling. Mara stifled an inclination to laugh.

“Show me.”

She followed her into the room. It was quiet. Sherry frowned.

“Wait.” Mara went into the kitchen and returned with a yellow broom.

Speaking in a loud voice that unsettled the morning stillness, she said, “Here’s what you do.”

Moving a chair to the wall, she stepped onto it with bare feet, then jammed the broom handle into the angle between wall and ceiling.

“When they get noisy, knock back---“

She jammed it three times without any response. Sherry’s eyes widened at the boldness.

“---And let them know you’re here!”

Mara marched back to her room, fully satisfied with her demonstration of the right attitude.



The persons and events in this story are fictitious and do not represent any living person or real event.

The next chapter will be posted August 15.