This story is told three times, each time from a different perspective. As the title suggests, the common thread between them is a little girl and a bunch of balloons.
Like robots, all of them! Just keep going without any concern for others. My baby is out there, in this sea of stones.
I spot a security guard, and rush towards him.
I lost my daughter. She’s lost in this forest of stones, and she may never find her way out. If only I had been more careful, if only, if only…
“Good evening, sir. My daughter is out there, and I need help finding her,” I manage to gasp.
He stands there, not even acknowledging my presence. My daughter is out there, alone! I scream at him internally. It is up to me, then.
What was she wearing? Think. Was it the orange t-shirt with unicorns? I scan the crowd for a sliver of her curly blond hair, her rosy little face, any sign of her at all.
A flash of gold. Is it her? I hurry towards the bobbing golden pigtails, but they are attached to the head of a stranger. How long can a three-year-old last in this maze? For her own sake and mine, I hope it is a very long time.
My eyes are drawn to a bunch of red balloons bobbing up and down. Then, I see her. She is standing by a man with the balloons, eyes wide. She’s chewing her hair, the way she does when she’s scared.
I swim against the tide of the indifferent buyers, parting a path through this endless sea. I run to her and pick her up, watch her face scrunch up as sloppy tears roll down her cheeks. “I’ve got you, baby girl.” And I’m never letting go.
Yeah, I know it’s underhand and all, but a man’s gotta make a living. In these tight times, no one is going to pay a cent more than they have to. And those kids will never even stop to think about balloons unless I remind them that they want one.
Here’s a kid, coming this way. She looks around three: the perfect age for balloon-baiting. I start my act of smiling and waving those shiny, oversized gumballs. She wants one, all right. Then I figure that there aren’t any avoid-contact-with-the-balloon-guy-and-I-won’t-have-to-buy-one parents tagging along behind her. I stop the act and ask her, “Where are your parents?”
What I really hate is those kids that don’t have parents attached to them. I mean, sure, the kid’ll want a balloon, but who’s gonna pay for it? I can’t just hand one over free of charge, that’s crazy! Then the kid just starts crying. This old lady just stops and stares at me like I’m some sort of freak. Hey, I didn’t do anything. Honest, I have no idea why that kid is crying.
The old lady is staring daggers into me. It’s a wonder that my balloons haven’t popped yet. Fine. I’ll make her laugh.
I try making funny faces at the little girl. Guess it only works in the movies. She’s still wailing at the top of her lungs. I try picking up the squirming little thing, and she freaking bites me. I do not get paid enough for this. I drop her. Sorry, old lady, I can’t deal with biting little girls.
The kid runs away, and I can’t see her anymore. I hope she finds her parents. Then they’ll have to buy a big balloon for their poor little girl. She’s standing on a bench now. Then some guy runs up to her and picks her up. Father: jackpot! Come, little child, come get your balloons!
They’re walking away. That little girl is walking away. Oh my goodness she’s walking away without buying a balloon. That cheat, swindler, bratty little kid!
I see another kid. He looks like he wants some balloons…
One instant she was right beside me, her pudgy little
fingers clenching my own. The next, the pressure vanished and I was left alone,
staring across the sea of rapidly moving people. My heart starts pumping
wildly, and I turn my head frantically in all directions, seeing everything and
nothing at the same time.
“Have you seen – “ I call out, as another indifferent shopper brushes past me. They all just keep moving, without a glance edgewise. Some stop to stare at this frantic father, shake their heads, and move on with their lives.
“Have you seen – “ I call out, as another indifferent shopper brushes past me. They all just keep moving, without a glance edgewise. Some stop to stare at this frantic father, shake their heads, and move on with their lives.
Like robots, all of them! Just keep going without any concern for others. My baby is out there, in this sea of stones.
I spot a security guard, and rush towards him.
I lost my daughter. She’s lost in this forest of stones, and she may never find her way out. If only I had been more careful, if only, if only…
“Good evening, sir. My daughter is out there, and I need help finding her,” I manage to gasp.
He stands there, not even acknowledging my presence. My daughter is out there, alone! I scream at him internally. It is up to me, then.
What was she wearing? Think. Was it the orange t-shirt with unicorns? I scan the crowd for a sliver of her curly blond hair, her rosy little face, any sign of her at all.
A flash of gold. Is it her? I hurry towards the bobbing golden pigtails, but they are attached to the head of a stranger. How long can a three-year-old last in this maze? For her own sake and mine, I hope it is a very long time.
My eyes are drawn to a bunch of red balloons bobbing up and down. Then, I see her. She is standing by a man with the balloons, eyes wide. She’s chewing her hair, the way she does when she’s scared.
I swim against the tide of the indifferent buyers, parting a path through this endless sea. I run to her and pick her up, watch her face scrunch up as sloppy tears roll down her cheeks. “I’ve got you, baby girl.” And I’m never letting go.
***
A
shopping center! I finish sucking my lollipop and drop the stick. I rub my
hands together to make the sticky stuff go away.
Then my hands are clean. Uh oh. I’m not holding Daddy’s hand anymore.
There are lots of people. I look at all the different pants and shoes people are wearing. I think Daddy was wearing blue jeans. There are lots of blue jeans here.
Balloons! I want one, now. I walk to the balloon man. It’s easy to go between people when you are small. The balloon man smiles at me. “Where are your parents?”
My parents? Daddy! Oh no, I lost him. I want my daddy! I start crying. I always get what I want when I’m crying.
The balloon man makes faces at me. I think he wants me to laugh, but it’s not working. People are staring at me. If I scream then maybe Daddy will come. The balloon man picks me up. I don’t want him to do that. I bite him, he drops me.
My feet hurt. I want to sit down. I see a bench. I walk to it and sit down. If I were taller, I could see far far away. I know how to make myself taller! I stand up on the bench. I look for Daddy.
I don’t see him. What if I’m stuck here by myself? The mall will close and I’ll sit here in the dark. The scary dark, with all the monsters. What if the monsters eat me up? I’m scared now. I cry.
Someone picks me up. I cry harder. Don’t take me away, mean stranger!
Oh. It’s Daddy.
Then my hands are clean. Uh oh. I’m not holding Daddy’s hand anymore.
There are lots of people. I look at all the different pants and shoes people are wearing. I think Daddy was wearing blue jeans. There are lots of blue jeans here.
Balloons! I want one, now. I walk to the balloon man. It’s easy to go between people when you are small. The balloon man smiles at me. “Where are your parents?”
My parents? Daddy! Oh no, I lost him. I want my daddy! I start crying. I always get what I want when I’m crying.
The balloon man makes faces at me. I think he wants me to laugh, but it’s not working. People are staring at me. If I scream then maybe Daddy will come. The balloon man picks me up. I don’t want him to do that. I bite him, he drops me.
My feet hurt. I want to sit down. I see a bench. I walk to it and sit down. If I were taller, I could see far far away. I know how to make myself taller! I stand up on the bench. I look for Daddy.
I don’t see him. What if I’m stuck here by myself? The mall will close and I’ll sit here in the dark. The scary dark, with all the monsters. What if the monsters eat me up? I’m scared now. I cry.
Someone picks me up. I cry harder. Don’t take me away, mean stranger!
Oh. It’s Daddy.
***
I love selling
balloons. It’s just so easy to sell these bobbing orbs; all I have to do is
wave it in front of some kids’ face, and he’s begging his parents for one.
Well, the parents can’t exactly say no in the middle of a mall, now, can they?
I mean, it’d be bad for their image and all. So they hand me the money and I
give them a nice big smile with their balloon.
Yeah, I know it’s underhand and all, but a man’s gotta make a living. In these tight times, no one is going to pay a cent more than they have to. And those kids will never even stop to think about balloons unless I remind them that they want one.
Here’s a kid, coming this way. She looks around three: the perfect age for balloon-baiting. I start my act of smiling and waving those shiny, oversized gumballs. She wants one, all right. Then I figure that there aren’t any avoid-contact-with-the-balloon-guy-and-I-won’t-have-to-buy-one parents tagging along behind her. I stop the act and ask her, “Where are your parents?”
What I really hate is those kids that don’t have parents attached to them. I mean, sure, the kid’ll want a balloon, but who’s gonna pay for it? I can’t just hand one over free of charge, that’s crazy! Then the kid just starts crying. This old lady just stops and stares at me like I’m some sort of freak. Hey, I didn’t do anything. Honest, I have no idea why that kid is crying.
The old lady is staring daggers into me. It’s a wonder that my balloons haven’t popped yet. Fine. I’ll make her laugh.
I try making funny faces at the little girl. Guess it only works in the movies. She’s still wailing at the top of her lungs. I try picking up the squirming little thing, and she freaking bites me. I do not get paid enough for this. I drop her. Sorry, old lady, I can’t deal with biting little girls.
The kid runs away, and I can’t see her anymore. I hope she finds her parents. Then they’ll have to buy a big balloon for their poor little girl. She’s standing on a bench now. Then some guy runs up to her and picks her up. Father: jackpot! Come, little child, come get your balloons!
They’re walking away. That little girl is walking away. Oh my goodness she’s walking away without buying a balloon. That cheat, swindler, bratty little kid!
I see another kid. He looks like he wants some balloons…
No comments:
Post a Comment