Page 38 of Chasing Fireflies

“Why?”

“Because he was so damn mad, he told me to put the handcuffs on him or he was going to choke her to death.”

I laugh because I just can’t help it. “My God, those two.”

“I know. Promise me we won’t get like that.”

“Promise, promise,” I say, shaking my head and grinning.

*

The day passes with water balloon fights and soaked faces from bobbing for apples. The slip and slide got torn, and the bouncy house was so wet no one could stand up in it anymore. We’ve cleaned up most of everything, and as the sun starts to say goodbye, we lay out blankets and I pass out popcorn. We’ve got a pile of books to label tomorrow, and I look over at Maci who still wears her glasses. She loads the books into a wagon, and I follow.

“It was a good day, wasn’t it?”

“It was a perfect day.”

“Too bad Lucas couldn’t make it out here,” I say,

“Yeah,” she says quietly.

“Want me to help you unload these?”

“No, you go enjoy the movie with Cash. I’ll probably get to these tomorrow.”

“Okay,” I say, still looking at her. She walks over to the computer, and I watch to see if she is going to remove her shades.

She looks my way. “Anything else?”

I sigh. “Are you going to keep those on all night?”

“What?”

“Your glasses.”

“Oh, I forgot I even had them on,” she lies and still doesn’t take them off.

“Maci,” I say.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says. “Thanks for your help today.” She hurries to the back before I can get another word in. I sigh and walk back out to the movie. Cash sits on a blanket up against a tree, and I make my way over.

“Where’d you go?” he asks as I get on my knees and move myself in between his legs. I lean back on his chest and look toward the screen.

“I went to check on Maci.”

“Everything okay?” he asks me.

“I’m not sure.”

“Can I help?”

“I’ll let you know.”

*

A soft wind blows around me as I sit in the field behind our house. My hair tickles my face, and I move it to the side. It’s long, and for some reason today, it’s driving me nuts, but today seems off anyway. I look through my journal and see that for the most part my moods have been pretty regular. No shifty thoughts lately. I flip to a clean page and in big letters I write, TODAY I’M CUTTING MY HAIR!

I stand and grab the blanket I was sitting on and walk the short distance back to the house. Hanging the blanket over the porch railing, I walk into the house, noticing the screen door still has a hole in it. This is getting old, and I’m tired of killing flies, but first things first. I walk upstairs to the bathroom and grab the scissors Cash uses to trim his beard. Hair be gone. I look at it in the mirror before I hold up a piece, and in one move I cut it. I watch it fall to the floor before I look back up at my reflection. Chop, chop. It goes as easy as butter spreading on a hot piece of bread. I cut around until it is up to my shoulders, and even then I cut some more. After I’m satisfied, I toss the scissors back into the basket and run downstairs to grab the broom.

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