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Plenty

Courtney Hendrickson

Plenty

  by Courtney Hendrickson

  Copyright

  Plenty

  By Courtney Hendrickson

  Copyright 2015 Courtney Hendrickson

  Cover Image Credit

  Slihto, J. (photographer). (2014). The other side of time [electronic image]. Retrieved from https://www.flickr.com/photos/101181388@N07/15562468767via Creative Commons.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Table of Contents

  Story

  About the Author

  Plenty

  I am almost able to concentrate on my book, even with the car bumping it around on its journey. Well, that’s until my little brother pulls my arm. Only then do I realize my mother was trying to get my attention.

  “Yes?” I ask.

  She sighs while rubbing her face and looks back at me from the passenger seat. “Amanda, please pay attention to your brother.”

  Speaking of the little devil, he’s pouting at me while holding a balloon. I place my bookmark and lean over to touch his arm.

  “Careful, Jack. You don’t want to pop the balloon,” I say.

  “Why?” he asks.

  “Because it would make a loud noise and could hurt your ears. You don’t want to hurt you ears, right?”

  He looks pensive for a moment with his eyes flicking between the balloon and me, as if he’s considering the validity of my statement. His arms loosen on the balloon.

  “Okay. Do you want to play I-spy?”

  “Sure. I spy with my little eye something red.”

  This manages to entertain him until we arrive at the amusement park. It’s not a big one, just a local family owned amusement park. It’s perfect for the birthday party of a seven year old, like my brother. His excitement gets him running to the entrance before he could look for cars near the crosswalk.

  “Jack,” my mother and father say at the same time.

  Jack stops in the middle of the road at the sound of his name. Dad ushers him across the rest of the empty street and into the park to check in. I go to the trunk to help Mom carry party stuff inside.

  “Do you need to do homework today?” she asks.

  “Pretty much.”

  “It’s Sunday.”

  “So it’s due tomorrow.”

  “It’s your brother’s birthday.”

  “And he’ll have plenty more of them. Besides, he’s not going to want to hang out with me when he has his friends from class here.”

  “You’d be surprised.” She closes the trunk using her key, not wanting to risk dropping the cake by doing the manual action. I hold the balloons and gifts as we cross the parking lot with more care than my brother had.

  We reach the front gate as someone takes pity and holds the door for us.

  “Here you go,” they say.

  “Thank you,” my mom says before rushing to the party room. I mumble my own reply before following her.

  The atmosphere inside the park is so different from the outside. There’s a cacophony of arcade games, screaming children, and cheesy music. The smell of sweet cotton candy mixed with stale fried food makes me want to vomit. I’m repelled by the bright arcade lights rather than drawn in like some of the children playing them.

  The party room lessens this onslaught of sensory information, but only for the thirty minutes it takes for everyone to arrive. Despite the chaos in the room, Mom works to be a perfect host. Alternatively, Dad tries to steer clear of her, I read my book, and Jack is already conversing with his classmates.

  “Here are your tokens. You stay with an adult at all times, understood?” my dad says to the children.

  There is a dull chorus of “yes” as the anxious children agree with my dad. He accepts this and starts handing out tokens until he gets to Jack.

  “Jack, what do you need to do?” he asks.

  Jack doesn’t reply and just stares at the token cup.

  “Jack?” he asks again.

  “Stay with an adult. Can I go now?” Jack says.

  “Good. Yes, stay with Uncle Michael,” my dad says.

  The children leave with a designated adult. A few adults stay behind to converse with each other. I participate with neither group and continue to read my book while making notes in the margin.

  This silence is short lived. Uncle Michael comes into the room carrying Jack. Jack for his part is crying and holding his nose while blood dribbles out of it.

  “My poor baby. Can someone get paper towels?” my mother asks as she hovers over Jack.

  I don’t even get the chance to place a bookmark because Aunt Sarah has already left the room. She comes running back into the room with a handful of paper towels.

  “Honey, tilt your head back,” my mother says to Jack.

  “But it hurts,” Jack says.

  “I know but it’ll make it feel better.”

  My mother’s coaxing gets Jack to tilt his head back. He looks miserable while being crowded by adults with blood-soaked paper towels clinging to his face as he looks at the ceiling.

  “Do you think his nose is broken?” Uncle Michael asks.

  “I don’t think so. Did anyone see what happened?” my dad asks.

  “He ran into some kid during laser tag,” Uncle Michael says.

  Well, of course he did. There were multiple children running around in the dark and nobody thought a kid would get hurt? It’s a bloody nose and an easy fix but the way the adults act make it seem like a broken bone.

  “My poor baby,” my mother says as she pulls Jack close to her.

  Soon the paper towels aren’t needed and the hug is more comfort for my mother than it is to Jack. With the faux crisis averted I continue to read my book until Dad sits next to me.

  “Have you been doing homework this entire time?” he asks.

  “I’m almost done.”

  He takes my book and puts a heavy cup in my hands before I can protest.

  “Take the tokens and go play with your brother. You can finish later.”

  A hand tugs mine, startling me. I look to see Jack staring at me looking much better than he did a few minutes ago.

  “Can you play now, Mandy?”

  For good measure, Dad hides my book from my reach.

  “I guess so. What game do you want to play?” He grabs my hand as we walk to the arcade area.

  “The spinning wheel one. Remember the one we played at my friend Jerry’s party? It gives lots of tickets and you’re really good at it.”

  “And what do you want to get with these tickets?”

  We find the game easily enough. Jack does his part by pushing the token into the machine. I time it right to punch the button to receive the highest ticket amount, much to Jack’s delight.

  “There’s a huge stuffed penguin,” he says.

  “How many tickets?”

  “A lot. Like, 200.”

  It doesn’t take long to get the 200 tickets. Uncle Michael appears just as Jack gives he a victory kiss on my cheek.

  “Got your tickets, Jack?” he asks.

  “Yes.”

  “And what do you say to Mandy?”

  Jack wraps his arms around my waist. “Thank you, Mandy. You’re the best sister in the history of ever.” He kisses my cheek one last time before running off with Uncle Michael to the prize booth and his penguin.

  Suddenly, I feel alone and uncomfortable in the crowded area of loud noises and awful smells.

  I make my way back to the party room alone.

  “Amanda, good thing you’re here. We’re going to do the cake soon. Have you seen Jack?” my mother says.

  “He was exchanging tickets with Uncle Michael last I saw him,” I say.

  Uncle Michael
comes into the room.

  “Mike, where’s Jack?” my mother asks.

  “I thought he was with you?” he says.

  “Okay.” My mother runs her fingers through her hair. “Mike, you check laser tag. Sarah and Jeff, check the arcade. Darren, you and your brothers go check the outside areas- mini golf, go-karts, you know the type. I need people to watch the kids and check any places I’m forgetting. I’m going to find an employee.”

  The room is full of chatter by gossiping kids and concerned adults. An employee gets a detailed description of my brother and radios his coworkers.

  “Any idea where he could be?” my dad asks me as he surveys the room.

  “He’s probably off playing somewhere, oblivious. You know how kids are. You know how he is.”

  “Yeah. Hopefully.” He runs his fingers through his hair and sighs.

  Uncle Michael and Aunt Sarah come back into the room, neither with Jack.

  “Go look for him, would you? I need to talk to your uncle and aunt,” he says.

  I nod and leave to appease him, stealing my book back as I go. Jack is probably playing somewhere and about to feel the wrath of Mom when he’s found.

  When I enter the main part of the building I’m hit by the awful smells and noises from earlier. I exit through the front gate.

  The outdoor area is much quieter. I gather my book, ready to read at an empty table, when I notice a figure by our car.

  “Jack?” I say to him.

  He waves at me. Of course he’s outside where he shouldn’t be. I motion for him to come over so we can go in and calm everyone down.

  My back is to him for a few seconds. A few seconds is all it takes for a car to squeal as it tries to avoid him but fails anyway. I turn back and he’s motionless on the ground.

  I freeze. I have to call 911. I check my pockets for my phone and come up empty. Damn. Do I go to Jack and hope someone else calls? Do I go ask the driver for help? Do I go back inside for help?

  There isn’t a chance for me to decide. The park has already registered an accident occurred. Mom is already running out screaming to an unconscious Jack. Dad stands next to me, just as shocked as I am. It doesn’t take long for it to manifest as anger. He looks at me.

  “I thought you said he’d be playing somewhere,” he says.

  “I thought he would—“

  “Why were you reading your book and not looking for him?”

  “He wasn’t supposed to be in the street.”

  “You’re damn right he wasn’t. You—“ He sighs and trails off.

  It’s a cold and awkward silence as we wait for the ambulance. The paramedics put Jack in the ambulance and leave before we get proper answers. The only reminder of the accident is the bloodstain on the pavement. Mom stares at it, at the spot where her baby used to be.

  “Mom,” I say. I touch her shoulder gently as Dad gets the car ready. “I’m sure it looks worse than it is.” I hope it just looks worse than it really is.

  She doesn’t acknowledge me, just gets in the passenger seat, and I follow her into the car.

  It takes a few hours in the waiting room for us to get in contact with a doctor in this incompetent hospital. My book remains untouched the entire time. Instead, I hold Jack’s stuffed penguin and hope I’ll get to give it back to him.

  The doctor in his professional tone tells us exactly what’s physically wrong with Jack, using medical terms we need explanations of to understand. He’s so cold the news he delivers almost seems that way too.

  Thankfully, it isn’t. He says Jack is fine. Well, he has a minor concussion, some stitches, and a broken leg. Considering how he looked and the fact a car hit him, he could be much worse off so we are oddly thankful for the small injuries.

  He’s smiling when I get to see him.

  “Mandy, Dave,” he says. I’m confused until he hugs the penguin, apparently named Dave. He sets Dave to the side and hugs me instead. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too.” I hold him tighter.

  Jack pulls away sooner than I’d like. “Will you sign my cast?” he asks while wiggling his toes.

  “Yeah, of course. Later though.”

  He nods and holds Dave again. It’s silent until I gently scold him for messing with some of the many wires. I have no idea what they’re connected to, but it’s better not to disconnect them, especially when Mom and Dad are speaking right outside with the doctor.

  “Why were you in the street?” I ask, unable to contain my curiosity anymore.

  “I wanted to put Dave in the car,” he says while playing with Dave’s flipper.

  “Why?”

  “I didn’t want to get him dirty.”

  “Why?”

  “You won him for me. The last one you won for me got dirty and I didn’t want to get Dave dirty, too.” He takes my stunned silence as a chance to continue. “I get to stay home from school tomorrow. Can we play when you get home?”

  “Of course.”

  “Even if you have homework?” he asks, looking at me with wide eyes.

  “Even if I have homework,” I say. He smiles.

  I have a definite four plus years of homework. I don’t have a guaranteed four years with my brother.

  ###

  About the Author

  Courtney Hendrickson is earning a Creative Writing for Entertainment Bachelor of Arts degree at Full Sail University. She worked on the transmedia adaptation of the thriller "The Most Dangerous Game" by Richard Connell. Although not a game, it shows her collaborative skills, ability as a project manager, and desire to go beyond storytelling to include her unique worlds and three-dimensional characters, all elements she works to include in her writing.