Chapter 2(pt 1 )
Claire
She bolted through the forest. The wind whipped through her fur, the trees swaying and leaves falling to the ground by the push of the wind. Her breath came in pants, her heart thudded, and her lungs cried with exhaustion. She ignored it. She ignored it all and kept going.
Her paws became soaked when she splashed playfully through a stream, the water jumping up in fright and sparkling in the sunlight. Claire wanted to stop and enjoy the icy coldness of the water and how wondrous it felt when it rushed over her brownish-red fur, but she couldn't stop.
The bird she chased cawed in horror as it flew through the green trees, dodging trunks and branches. Its blue and brown feathers danced in front of Claire's eyes, taunting her.
Almost there.
Claire.
One step away. Claire could practically feel her jaws locked around the tiny animal.
Claire!
She opened her mouth, her canines glinting beautifully in the sunlight leaking through the treetops. She bit down, catching the bird gracefully just as—
"Claire!" Something shook her shoulder hard, jerking her out of the dream. She jumped up, surprised, her head ramming painfully on the shelf on the wall by the booth.
"Ow. Damn." Claire rubbed at her head, pain shocking her senses like lightning. She looked up at the person who had woken her up.
"Sandy?" Her eyes darted around the diner as her mind caught up with her. How long had she been asleep?
Sandy glared down at her coworker. "Finally. I've only been trying to wake you up for like the past 15 minutes," she said, exasperated. "You're lucky they even let you keep your brother here while you work."
Claire frowned. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep. It's just been a bit hard lately and—"
"Yeah, yeah. Save it," Sandy told her harshly, rolling her eyes. "You better get back to work before the boss finds you slacking off. Your break's been over for 20 minutes now."
Shit.
"And you definitely want to get a hold on your brother. He's been bothering that old couple for quite a while now."
Claire jumped up from the booth, her nervous gaze sweeping for Charlie. When did he get up from the booth? She couldn't help but sigh in relief when she found him near the back of the old diner, chatting excitedly with an elderly couple. Lucky for her, the couple didn't look like they minded having him join them for dinner.
Claire watched in horror when she saw Charlie steal a fry from the older man's plate. She immediately jumped into action, forgetting all about Sandy. "Charlie!" she hissed when she got to their table. "What did I tell you about leaving the booth?"
She sent an apologetic look to the couple, begging for them to understand. "I'm so sorry about this."
The lady only smiled down at little Charlie sitting next to her, his blonde curls looking way too out of control. "Nonsense, Dearie. This young man is more than welcome here." She ran a hand over his hair. "Harold and I don't mind. He's been wonderfully behaved."
Charlie beamed up at the lady, no doubt soaking in the praise. "Care! Care! Can I stay? Please?"
Claire gave Charlie a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, Charlie, but I need you to stay in the booth where I can see you. Besides, all your toys are there. Don't you want to play with your playdoh?"
She wouldn't have minded if she knew these people. If that were the case, then she'd be all for Charlie staying at their table if that meant he'd have fun. But these were complete strangers, not friends. Humans, even. Claire had to use this as a way to teach Charlie that he could not talk to strangers. And he definitely could not go up to people he didn't know and take their food.
"We don't mind having him here, Dearie," the lady said.
But Claire was already shaking her head. "I'm sorry, I can't. Come on, Charlie, we have to go. Thank you so much for watching him for me."
Without another word, Claire snagged Charlie's arm and tugged him back to the booth. She nudged him down by his bag of toys and pulled his playdoh from the side pocket of the bag.
Cap off and ready, Claire was surprised when he didn't even go to touch it. Charlie was crazy about his playdoh. The kid was creative and could invent an entire story with a single ball of the mushy, clay-like stuff.
She glanced down at her brother, who sat with his head down on the table. His arms were wrapped around his face, not letting any light in.
She let out an exhausted sigh, squatted down so she was head to head with Charlie, and began rubbing his small back. "I'm sorry, Charlie. I know you wanted to stay with them, but you can't just go over and talk to strangers like that. What if they wanted to take you from me? Then I'd never see you again and I don't know what I'd do."
His shoulders shook as he cried into the table, his tiny hands clenched into fists.
"Charlie. Come on, don't do this to me. I have to get back to work," she begged. It crushed her soul when she saw her little brother cry, and it hurt even more knowing that he had been crying a lot lately.
"I f-fin-finally had a-a friend, Care!" he sobbed. "You t-took them fro-from me!"
"Shh, Charlie, please. You know it hurts me to see you cry. Come on, buddy, I need you to pull it together," she pleaded. "Please?"
"No!" he yelled, a little too loudly over the diner noise. "No, Care!"
He was tired. She could tell that easily by the emotions quickly building on his face. Normally, Charlie was a strong little kid. He could take punches with the best of them. But after Jackie leaving, and now having to sit in the same booth for almost six hours to watch his sister run back and forth like a mad woman, he was bound to be tired and emotional. Not every child could sit in the same space for so long.
"Shh!" Claire panicked. People were starting to glance over to their booth, wondering what the heck was going on. Some were even stopping mid-conversation to see if Claire was disturbing the child. I'm his sister. I'm his sister. Maybe if she chanted it enough in her head, somehow, the diner patrons would hear it and understand the unique situation. "Charlie, I swear to you we'll do something after this, just the two of us. As buddies. We'll go get ice cream, okay? You just have to stay quiet until my shift's over. Please?"
Ice cream must have been the ultimate bribe when it came to children because slowly, his cries began to die down. He pulled his little head up and looked at her, his eyes red and puffy and snot hanging from his nose. "You promise?"
"I promise, Charlie," she told him gently as she wiped his nose with a napkin from the dispenser.
"Okay."
"Now, you sit here and play with your toys while I go make us some money for ice cream. My shift ends in like, two more hours, so I need you to stay here until then."
He nodded, his eyes already drifting over to the open playdoh.
Claire slapped her knees gently before standing up again. "Good." She pointed to him warningly. "And don't go near or talk to any more strangers, alright?"
Bribing her little brother with ice cream probably wasn't the best idea, but she was tired and out of options. She wasn't his parent, so there was only so much she could do. Charlie was good with Claire's authority over him most of the time, yet that didn't mean it always worked. Sometimes he just needed a little bit of...encouragement.
Charlie didn't give any sign of agreement; however, he did pull out the playdoh and started making something that resembled a ball.
Satisfied, Claire turned and got back to work. And work hard, she did.
The syrup wouldn't come off the table. Who the heck cleaned the tables this morning? They did the crappiest job ever. Claire scrubbed furiously at the chipping table, some stacked cups in her opposite hand. She'd just finished serving a few middle-aged women out for a drink and now had to clean up the table.
Lindy's Diner was too cheap to hire bus boys. Whoever was in charge of the money and for keeping the diner nice was the worst cheapskate ever. Yet, despite the tables that were chipping and falling apart, and the booths that had one-too-many holes in the seats, Lindy's was never lacking customers. The jukebox in the corner played a Whitney Houston track for the fifth time since Claire clocked in for her shift. Some of the lights that had blown out months ago were still not replaced—though it did somewhat provide a nice dinner mood—and the bathroom doors were so old they practically crumbled just from contact with the air.
Whoever had the diner before Lindy wasn't the best caretaker.
Claire had been working for Lindy and her husband for the past 2 years. The second she turned sixteen, she'd had to get a job in order to help support the family. She'd been so ecstatic when she'd actually gotten the job and had since proven herself worthy of the position. She'd put in more overtime hours than any other worker and always helped clean while she waited for her tables to fill up. Unlike the other workers, she'd never stop to talk unless necessary and constantly had a courteous smile on her face. She never argued with customers like Sandy did, and she even took money out of her own paycheck to pay for a meal she'd screwed up once.
She put a little bit of her extra strength into wiping the syrup off the table with her wet rag before wiping down the salt, pepper, sugar, and napkin trays. Her eyes and ears stayed open as she watched and listened for customers. She paid special attention to Charlie and how he was doing, but he'd passed out half an hour ago.
Claire checked the clock on the wall. Seven thirty. Half an hour until Charlie's designated bedtime and an hour and a half more until her shift officially ended.
She quickly put the cups in the sink in the kitchen and brought out a new set of silverware for the table.