Halloween Disasters

         A slight haze had settled in the room since morning had come. Taylor realized this as her eyes opened, unsure of the light. She slowly sat up, rubbing her blue-green eyes, dreading the long day set up ahead of her.
         Her feet brushed against the soft blue carpet as she stood, awkwardly at first, then stable as she once again became used to her weight.
         I know! A nice shower should help, hopefully.she thought.
         Stumbling to the bathroom, Taylor grabbed a clean white towel, a pair of short jean shorts, a yellow tank top, and some underclothes; then slipped quietly into the bathroom, as not to wake her stressed mother. There she turned on the water to her liking, undressed, and stepped carefully into the shower.
         As she stepped out of the shower, Taylor Jackson stared into the bathroom mirror. It was as foggy as usual, but she could still see faint outlines of herself. She dreamed of having a secret message written on it by an admirer or something… but it never happened. Taylor sighed, wrapped her soft blue towel around her body, and walked drearily to her bedroom to change.
         She came back out in a flower tank top, short denim shorts, flip-flops, and a yellow bandana tucked in around her long, layered blonde hair, accenting the golden brown highlights. Even though her friends were envious of her, Taylor still hated her image.
         But today wasn’t a day for that. She was going on a tour of the town with her father. Taylor’s mother was killed in a car accident a few months prior to this day, and to her dismay, she was sent to live with her father in Chicago. Her father was one far-out adventurous person, unlike Taylor.
         A knock on the door told Taylor that her father was home from work and ready to explore Chicago.
         “Here we go,” she murmured, rolling her forest green eyes. She headed out the door and slumped into her father’s corvette.
         “Ready, Tay-Tay?” That’s what her father called her. Tay-Tay. It sounded so…different. But you couldn’t change his mind. So Taylor just nodded her head and they tore off down Palace Imperial Drive towards the town square.
         Mr. Jackson took his teenage daughter first out to eat lunch at a French restaurant called “Le François” where they ordered croissants with chocolate filling, then Chicken Cordon Blew for Taylor and Coq Au Vin for her father.
         As they were eating, a man about Mr. Jackson’s age stopped by and sat down. He had a young boy with him near Taylor’s age. The boy stood and listened while his father jabbered on about the “good old days.”
         After their brief talk, the two left the restaurant, and soon after, so did the Jacksons.
         “Who were they?” Taylor asked her father as they were heading for his vehicle.
         “Well, Taylor. That man was one of my old college buddies, Sam Peterson. And the other was his son, Derik. Derik’s in your grade, but he’s a couple months older than you.”
         Taylor thought about that. Derik, Derik, Derik. She liked that name… and that boy.
         By the time they were about to cross the street, Sam Peterson called to Mr. Jackson.
         “Steve! Hey, can I have a word with you?”
         “Sure, Sam,” Mr. Jackson replied. The two deserted their teen children and sat a bench to converse. Derik walked over to Taylor.
         “So…how are you doing?” he asked. Taylor turned awkwardly to him and replied,
         “Fine. You?”
“Alright.” They stood in silence for a while until Derik asked, “Do you want to get something to drink?”
         “Yeah, sure,” Taylor nodded. They headed over to stand by the courthouse that was selling pops. Derik paid for Taylor’s Pepsi and his Coke. After, they headed down to the garden and talked.
         “So, is that your dad?” Jacob asked.
         “Yeah,” Taylor answered.
         “I’ve never seen you around. Are you visiting?”
         “Sort of, but not really. I’m staying. My mother was killed in a car accident. She didn’t see the semi… and it didn’t see her. She was thrown off a cliff. My dad is the only relative they could find, so I ended up here.”
         “Wow, I’m so sorry,” Derik murmured.
         “You don’t have to be, it’s not your fault. It’s mine,” Taylor told him.
         “Why?”
         “Because I was afraid. I was at home, alone, in the darkest neighborhood of town and I was afraid. I had her come home from work early every night until I was asleep, then she’d leave again to close up the office. That night I was extremely scared because there had been a murder a couple of blocks down and I… well you know. She was trying to get home fast enough. If only I hadn’t been so childish…”
         “It wasn’t your fault, Taylor. I bet your mother thinks so too. Stuff happens all the time, ok. It’s all in the plan.”
         “But why her, not me?”
         “Maybe because you live on to do something great, something that changes history, Taylor.” At that moment, he reached over to her and kissed her lips serenely. They held it for a while until they heard approaching footsteps. It was their fathers. Quickly, the two jerked away from each other as their dads winked to one another…they’d seen.
         “C’mon, Derik. We must be leaving now. Bye Steve, bye Taylor,” said Sam.
         “See you in school,” Derik called to Taylor as he walked off with his dad.
         “You too,” Taylor called back. Her father was smiling as they climbed into the corvette.
         “So, what do you think?” Mr. Jackson asked his daughter as he pulled into their drive.
         “Of what?”
         “Of Derik.”
         “Oh, he’s nice.”
         “You think so?”
         “Yeah, dad. Why?”
         “Oh, I’m just curious.” he smiled once again. They hopped out of the car and strolled into the house. Taylor headed upstairs to change into her nightclothes.
         The next morning, Taylor woke at 6:00 A.M. to get ready for her first day of school in Chicago. She had planned for Derik to convene with her and walk her to school, so she had to hurry. He hadn’t told her when he’d be by.
         After throwing on a three quarter sleeve shirt, capris, and some flip-flops, she stopped downstairs to have a hearty breakfast. Her father had planned to become a chef and always made delicious breakfasts. There were eggs, bacon, biscuits, and waffles.
         “Mmm. Looks good, dad,” she commented. He smiled shyly. Taylor took a seat at the polished wooden table, adorned with a lacey white table cloth, centered in the large dining room. As she sat, she admired the crystal chandelier and timeless brass-plated five-cup sconces that hung at least three to each of the five walls that separated them from the rest of the house. The golden dim light that they provided gave the room a classy, welcome look and feel. It also felt romantic…reminding Taylor of her encounter and conversation with the charming Derik Peterson.