Jacinta Takes a Walk

I nodded to myself.

“I’m out walking. I’m going home for dinner. Everything’s okay. Grandma said I should have a good evening, so that’s what I’ll do. Grandma said I should go home for dinner, so that’s what I’ll do.”

I was more relaxed now, strolling instead of striding. Just out for a nice walk before dinner.

I crossed another side street, checking for cars this time. Just beyond the side street, someone had dumped some plastic bags against the fence. I would have ignored them but the flash of bright colours through the plastic caught my eye.

I opened one of the plastic bags and discovered some clothing. The first thing I grabbed was a brightly coloured dress. Brightly coloured to the point of being garish. Not something I would choose to wear. Also in the bag was a child’s set of pyjamas with a pattern on them of little yellow chicks, all fluffy and cute. I stuffed the abandoned clothes back into the bag and dropped the bag on the ground.

The second bag I opened held a complete uniform for a McDonalds worker. I held the long black trousers up against myself and saw that they would fit me fairly well. I wasn’t so sure about the shirt. I kicked my shoes off. Then I unzipped and removed my denim skirt, dropping it onto the top of the pile of plastic bags. I pulled the trousers on and did them up. They were a snug fit around my hips and perhaps 6cm too long. I bent over and folded up the hem, then pulled my shoes back on. The trousers were generic black long pants that could be worn with anything. They’d felt taut across my ass when I bent over but there was some stretchyness in them so that wasn’t too much of a problem.

“Score,” I said, as I twisted to check the way they fit at the back. This was a good find.

I eyed the shirt and then shrugged. If you don’t try, you don’t know. I unzipped my windcheater and took it off. Then I shrugged my way into the shirt. I was wrong, the shirt actually fit quite well. It was maybe even a size too big for me but a little bit loose is good when you’re working.

It still had a name tag attached. “Isabelle: Trainee.”

The last thing in the bag was one of the standard McDonalds caps. I twisted my hair into a ponytail and threaded it through the back of the cap as I pulled the cap onto my head.

“Look at me,” I said to the empty space around me. “I work for Maccas now.”

As I spoke, I was looking around. But then I stopped. I wasn’t alone.

A little girl was sitting on her bike, watching me with a curious expression on her face. She’d stopped on the pavement of the side street with her feet on the ground to hold herself in place. She looked young, like, I don’t know, five or six maybe. Her bike was painted silver flecked with pink, and decorated with pink tassels and pink hand grips. She was wearing multi-coloured leggings, a pink puffy jacket, and a white helmet covered with pink and purple dots.

“You got changed out in the open,” she said.

“Yeah, I did,” I said. I stuffed my skirt and windcheater into the now empty plastic bag and bundled it up.

“Why did you get changed in the open? You’re supposed to get changed in your bedroom.” She sounded more curious, than accusing.

I gestured around. “This is my bedroom. It’s a really big bedroom with walls that are far away and a really high ceiling.” I pointed up.

She looked up. “That’s the sky.”

I looked up as well. “How do you know? It could be a really high ceiling that’s been painted blue so that it looks like the sky.”

“There’s the sun.” She pointed at the sun, squinting against its glare. “There are clouds.” She pointed at a dark line of clouds that were approaching in the distance. “You don’t have the sun and clouds in a bedroom. Not unless they’re painted. And those clouds are moving, so they aren’t painted. And that’s the real sun, not a painted one.”

I spread out my arms in surrender. “Okay, you convinced me. I’m not in a bedroom. But I needed to get changed so that I can go to work, and my real bedroom is far away.”

She looked at me as she thought about that. “What’s your name?”

I smiled at her and pointed at the name badge. “Hi, My name is Isabelle. I’m a trainee. Would you like fries with that?”

She pressed her lips together and stared at me for a moment, before she made a decision.

“You’re weird,” she said.

“Yeah,” I said. “People keep telling me that.”

The girl looked over her shoulder. “My mum is waving at me to go back inside. It’s probably time for dinner. Bye.”

She turned her bike around and rode off down the side street

“Have a nice day,” I called after her. “Enjoy your meal. Come back soon.” But she was gone.

I laughed at myself and resumed walking.

I stopped and talked to a fence post. “Hi, my name is Isabelle.” I pointed at the name tag and gave the post my perkiest smile. “I’m a trainee. Welcome to Mcdonalds. May I take your order?”

The fence post wasn’t interested. I laughed and kept walking.

Within a very short time I came to the gate that barred entry into the primary school. The gate was chained shut, of course, but the wire in the fence next to the gate had curled back and left a person-sized gap that was easy to step through.

I stepped through it and headed towards the group of benches at the edge of the playground. A group of three older boys were sitting there. They looked about nineteen or twenty. They had skateboards with them, but they were sitting. Maybe they were having a rest after some hectic skateboarding.

They saw me coming and watched me curiously. I walked up and sat down on the last remaining empty bench. “Hey,” I said.

“Hey,” they replied.

One of the boys, the one with a bit of a mo on his upper lip, looked me up and down. “Are you heading to work, or going home?”