Sheila had six toes on one foot. A little thing like that can alter the river of childhood. And what was it? An extra bit of skeleton? Seems like that could come in handy. For balance. But that’s not how Sheila thought.
When her family went to the beach she dressed like a Quaker. Her whole closet only contained the most sensible of shoes. While her sisters lived for summer days running barefoot while popsicles melted down their wrists, Sheila parked herself under umbrellas. She would have spent her time in Libraries had she any interest in reading, but the books made her feel even more clumsy. Instead she spent her time spinning stories in her head. She might see a stranger in the grocery store parking lot and in a instant she had invented a life story that was much more clever than the real thing. It should be no surprise to most of you, that an absent minded hobby can turn into an obsession which can turn into a gift.
After a failed attempt at community college, Sheila roomed with a waitress whose nametag said Debbie. The ad had read, WANTED: Quiet Roommate with a fucking sense of humor. Debbie opened the door to this knock-kneed girl in sensible shoes and laughed so loud Sheila ducked. They’ve been best friends ever since.
Waitress Debbie would leave her shift so quickly she wouldn’t even take off her uniform. A beer was cracked and in her hand, before such mundane matters could be considered. Instead she drank and ranted about customers while Sheila looked on from the couch. For someone so mouse like, Sheila was a terrible listener. She spent too much of the time wondering what it would be like to be Debbie with her lecherous manager Josh or Jordon or something.
Debbie had come to the end of her beer and her tirade and plopped onto the saggy sofa.
-You know what I mean?
-Yeah.
Sheila did not.
-So how about it?
-Oh, yeah…I don’t know…
-Oh, come on. I want you to do me.
Sheila didn’t know what to say. She really wished she had been listening.
-That thing you do. Make up stories for people. Make one for me.
-That’s not really…
-Sure it is. You know how much people would give for a new story.
Debbie peeled off her name tag and let gravity take it away.
