Editor’s Note: Last week Tim Dallimore told us a little bit about his NaNoWriMo 2010 project, which I believe is untitled for the time being, and now he has checked in from Dawson City with the first draft of the first chapter. Anyone who knows Tim will not be surprised to learn that it opens on a flirtatious moment with a pretty girl and ends with an over-the-top occurrence. Read on and enjoy!
It all started 3 months and 4 days ago. It was a girl. I saw her in the cereal isle at Zehrs. She was reading the boxes. I didn’t want to stare, so I kept walking and bought a Dad’s Root Beer. I wanted to go back and ask her something inane like, “Which is your favourite cereal mascot?”. But I didn’t. I might end up saying something more like “How much wood could a woodchuck chuck?”. So I stood there in the check out with my Dad’s Root Beer and I didn’t even buy the thing I came to get. Cereal. And then she walked up behind me. She had long blonde hair that curled around her shoulders. She was wearing a green dress which matched her eyes and her shopping basket hung gracefully from her thin wrist. She wore no jewelry save a gold watch. She was carrying a white purse with a flower print. And I was suddenly being asked to pay for my single useless purchase.
“Oh yeah, uh…” I fumbled around in my pockets for my wallet and handed the cashier my debit card.
“Here you are.” I said.
And she spoke to me. “Root Beer eh? Big spender!”
What was I to say? I was a bumbling fool. How did I get there at that Zehrs? Who was I? Why had I become transformed into this fool? I was grasping at straws now.
“Oh yeah, I’m half way to a float. Just need some ice cream. I’m going to a different grocery store to get that. I like to make my shopping into an entire days event where I don’t actually get anything useful.”
She laughed. And she put her hand to her mouth and I could see that she had put flower stickers on her finger nails. Then she started putting her items on the conveyer belt. She had a box of mini wheats, a tub of raspberry yogurt, a carton of milk, a bundle of asparagus and a vine with 3 tomatoes. She was paying attention to the cashier now and I had to walk away. So I cracked my Root Beer open and started drinking it as I walked out the door. I was trying to look casual and cool, but when I stepped off the curb and into the parking lot I tripped and spilled my Root Beer into my face. I looked around, but she was still inside the Zehrs. So I could walk to my car and still look cool. I took out my keys and twirled them around in my hand. My car beeped when I pressed the unlock button and I mimicked it. I always did that. It was a Honda Civic I had bought from my Dad for $1000. My Dad liked to tell his work friends that I had gotten it for a “Song”. I didn’t really understand that. I got in and backed my car out of the parking space. As I switched from reverse to drive I saw her coming out of the store. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. But she wasn’t looking at me, not yet anyway. And, of course, I drove my car right up the curb and into a fire hydrant. The air bag went off and punched me in the face and suddenly there was a shower of water falling all around me. I had never been in a car accident before and my heart was racing.
“Real smooth Sean.” I said to myself.
A mob was gathering around me. I wanted to float away like a ghost. But I just sat there in my car with my nose bleeding and water pounding on the roof of my car. She was watching me with her flowery fingers at her mouth again, this time she wore a look of horror, or was she laughing? I couldn’t get out of my car. I was too embarrassed. Seconds were like hours. I could hear my Dad’s voice in my head, “You got that car for a song and you just trash it?”
Someone opened my car door. It was a woman in her 40’s. She was being very frantic and asking me if I was okay. She was dripping wet and I could barely hear her voice over the spraying water. The rest of the car crashing event was like a dream. I just sat there while people said things to me. Soon the police had come and everyone was treating me like I had just escaped death. The girl was gone. I don’t remember at what point she disappeared or in which direction she went. A tow truck came and picked up my car, which actually looked to be in pretty good condition except for the front bumper. I was signing papers left right and centre. When everyone finally calmed down I phoned up a taxi on my cell. They let me go home with the promise that I would report to the police station the next day. I had every intention of going at the time. But that was before I was a fugitive.