“Do you have a ticket?” the boy asked. He was very short and a bit on the pudgy side. His shirt did not fit well, and the bottom of it rested on his belly, showing the elastic band of his light blue boxers. He wore an orange and black nametag that showed his name as Ralph. Ralph had allowed Charles to walk past without a second look. Ralph wore a black whistle around his neck. He played with the metal chain that looped through the whistle, running it back and forth over its plastic clasp. When he said the words, his chest puffed up and he pulled in his belly. Ralph looked around to see who was watching the confrontation. Simon looked past him and noticed a short blonde girl sitting on a nearby seat, twirling her curly hair. She was leaning over her phone typing in a message.

“You need a ticket to go into this area,” Ralph said, this time louder and looking directly at the girl behind him in a feeble attempt to draw her attention. The girl continued typing on her phone, oblivious to what Ralph was saying. Ralph’s face turned a slightly darker shade of red and he held up a plump arm to block Simon from passing. He glowered at Simon, and took a small step back, as if preparing to catch Simon if he chose to charge. Simon had not made a move toward Ralph. Instead, he leaned back on his heels and looked over Ralph’s outstretched arm. He saw Charles with his bent toward Penelope, having what looked like a deep conversation.

“I’m just meeting a few friends,” Simon said. “They’re right over there.” He pointed to Charles and Penelope. “I’m not skating. I don’t need a ticket to watch, do I?” Simon was not paying attention to Ralph. He was lost watching Penelope. She was untying her white skates and chatting with an almost comical flair. Simon had not seen her in a few days. She looked as beautiful as ever. Her hair was short and brown, spiky but flat on top of her head, giving her head a slightly jagged and dangerous look. Her eyes were large; they grew even larger when she spoke, the dark blue iris almost disappearing in the brightness of the whites of her eyes. Even as she took off her skates, her back remained upright. A lifetime of skating lessons leaving her posture in the league of gymnasts. She wore long tight jeans and a sequin red shirt. Skating, even in the mall, was something she took very seriously, and she always wore serious skating. The definition of seriousness was something Simon had discussed with Penelope at length. It clearly had different definition in the context of skating.

“You can wait outside on the bench, sir,” Ralph said to Simon. His face lit up as he said the words, as a rush of power replaced the embarrassment of the girl not being impressed or interested by his activities.

“How much for a ticket,” Simon asked.

“You’ll have to talk to the ticket sales over there,” Ralph said, pointing to the other side of where he was standing.

“I have to walk past you to get here,” Simon said. Penelope had finished taking off her skates and was packing her bag. Charles stood up and waited for her, holding out his hand to carry her bag when she finished.

Ralph glared at Simon and then looked back to the young blonde woman. Without looking at Simon, he motioned for him to pass, and walked back to the girl. Ralph stood over the girl’s shoulder to see what she was typing. The girl snapped the lid of her phone closed, and stood up so abruptly that her shoulder knocked into Ralph. Ralph fell backwards as if he had been struck by a much larger object, and before he managed to regain his balance, the girl stormed off. Ralph watched her go. His face looked first confused and then embarrassed and finally angry. He turned toward Simon, who wisely chose that moment to look away and walk towards Charles and Penelope. Ralph grunted but Simon chose to ignore him and approached Charles.

“I think I may join the two of you,” Charles said to Penelope. He held Penelope’s skate bag as she tied her shoelaces. Charles’s back was to Simon and he did not see him approach. “I have not had an adventure in quite some time, and from the way he always talks of it—” Charles seemed to sense Simon. He took a deep breath through his large nose and turned to face Simon, his mustache twitching. “As I was saying,” Charles said. “From the way you always talk about Fishs Eddy, this is a place I need to see for myself.”

“So you’re joining us, Pene?” Simon asked, trying to keep down his excitement.

“Yes,” Penelope said in an offhanded manner. “Charles here convinced me of the seriousness of the situation. I’ve been looking for a reason to escape the summer heat in Houston, and hear that upstate New York is nice this time of year.”

“It is warm but not too hot,” Simon said. “You will have a good time. Fishs Eddy may be a bit sleep, but it has a storied history. Have I told you how many Nobel scientists are from Fishs Eddy?” Simon asked, his voice taking on the hollow nature of a well-worn story. His hometown had many claims to fames, but this was the one that Simon knew impressed people.

“Seven,” Penelope said with a flat voice before Charles could chime in with the same answer. “There were seven Nobel Laureates from Fishs Eddy, the largest collection of Nobel Laureates in the entire world within a twenty mile radius. Everyone has a talent in Fishs Eddy.”

“I think she beat me to mocking you,” Charles said. “You do tend to repeat those factoids often, Simon. It is as if you are very proud of your hometown, even though you seemingly disown it. It is also one of the reasons I want to visit Fishs Eddy. You said you moved from there when you were ten?”

“Yes, well,” Simon said. “Ten was old enough to realize me and my family did not belong there. We left at the right time to escape there. My mother claims she took the family away to save us from the small town craziness.” Penelope had finished tying her shoes and was standing a few feet away from Simon and Charles, clearly not interested in the conversation. She was watching the ice skaters in the rink, following some of the more skilled ones who made intricate shapes around the center of the rink. One in particular, a small girl wearing a pink and gold bodysuit, was particularly skilled. When Simon looked over, he saw her finish a jumping double spin. He was sure Penelope would know the official name for such a move. Her head was following the girl as she made slow shapes around the center of the ice, building up speed to perform another trick.

“But your mother moved back, hasn’t she?” Charles asked. “Your mother and sisters? They’ve return to Fishs Eddy. It can’t be that bad of a place if they went back.”

“My memories of Fishs Eddy are a bit hazy from when I was a child,” Simon said, without complete honesty. He had deeply felt flashes of memories about the small town. His childhood had not been a happy one. Even as a child, he felt everyone around him was better than him at something. As a boy, when he wandered around the small town, he could not point to one thing he was good at. All of his friends seemed to excel in one area. His best friend, Boris, was an amazing gymnast, capable of keeping his balance no matter the situation. He went through college on a scholarship, and the last he heard he was a huge success balancing the books of a financial company. Trisha, another elementary school friend, had an amazing singing voice. She starred in a Broadway show at the age of seven. It was not only her perfect pitch but her amazing voice control. All of his classmates’ talents had seemed effortless. Where Simon looked for anything to excel at, all he could be was mediocre or better than average if he worked exceptional hard at something. He was never the best at anything.

“It was a strange place,” Simon said. “It’s not something I can describe. Everyone there was, well, different.”

After Simon left Fishs Eddy, he found things easier. If there was a competition in school, he had a chance at first place. It was not that he would win first place every time he competed. It was more that he had an opportunity to be the best at a competition. There was something about his childhood, or more particularly his childhood in Fishs Eddy, that always felt strange. His sisters had not shared his view. They both excelled at their talents. It was only Simon that fell behind the curve.

“Are you boys done reminiscing?” Penelope asked. “I have not eaten yet. Since you are both here, we should go out and celebrate.”

“What are we celebrating?” Simon asked.

“I thought you were planning a hometown reunion?” Penelope asked. “A trip back to this magic place of Fishs Eddy.”

“So you will join me?” Simon asked. He had not even presented his arguments to Penelope. He had prepared a litany of reasons for her to join him. The most important, and the one he would not have told her, was that he wanted her there with him. He wanted to replace his bad memories with good ones. And the best way he could think to do that was to have her accompany him to meet his family in the place where he feared most. The thought of Penelope meeting his family was a bit scary. His family was strange, even strange since Stan entered the family. He was the one the voice told him about. He was not sure how Penelope would react to the drama that was his family. Thinking back, he could not remember the last time they had come together and been happy. He pushed such thoughts aside. Here he was, about to travel across the country with Penelope.

“So when do we leave?” Charles asked.

And Charles. Simon looked at Charles and tried again to figure him out. When he first introduced him to Penelope, he had thought there was something there. Simon realized that he was jealous of most men that spoke with Penelope. He had learned to control his jealousy, as Penelope would not talk to him for days if he ever repeated the outburst he had had when they first started going out. With Charles it had been slightly different. Charles was Simon’s friend first. Although he always wondered about that. It would have been unlikely if Charles had never seen Penelope before. He could not figure out if Charles had known Penelope was dating Simon before he struck up a conversation with Simon. He did not spend the time to think about it.

They spoke of small things as they walked to the family-style Italian restaurant.

“How is business,” Penelope asked Simon.

“It goes well,” Simon said, warming up to the conversation. He enjoyed talking about his work. It was, he felt, what made him unique and perhaps interesting to Penelope. While she was not always interested in what they spoke about, his work did hold a deep fascination for her. Penelope was a student of people. She enjoyed understanding how they ticked. Simon’s job provided her such an opportunity. While she jokingly called him a conman, he considered himself a new world entrepreneur, like the people who sold land in Florida before it was truly settled. Sure it was a swamp and had lots of problems, but without growing interest in the land, there would never have been developments.

They were seated in a round table for six. They sat together and the remaining three seats stared at them. The table was large enough to probably sit eight if they squeezed in the chairs.

Word count: 2,053

Word total: 10,358

Words remaining: 39,642

Today was very busy at work. I finished up my writing at around 9pm. The words came easier and the story took on a bit more form after a few ideas popped into my head last night. I can’t say I’ve turned the corner, but I am hopeful, somewhat. I’m enjoying not publicly posting the words. I don’t have to worry about explaining my sudden and rather drastic changes in direction or story. I haven’t had the nerve to read much of what I’ve written. At this point, it’s probably a good thing.