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Part 6 - Heartfelt (cont.)

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Lina rubbed her shoulders. "I love the summer months. Except when it gets really sticky. I've always wanted to go to that ice festival." For me, anything was better than the dry, soul-sapping desert heat of my youth.

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She had a spate of giggles. "So, there's this video of a cat and the guy with the camera goes over and the cat is just 'woah'. Like literally it sounds as if someone is saying 'woah'." Lina tried to make her voice sound as deep as possible for the quote. Through some voodoo magic, she got it pulled up on my phone. It was a cat with paralyzed vocal cords. Its meows sounded oddly-human without being an obvious fake.

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"Gosh, I own like five shoes. This comfy, everyday pair. Some rugged, brown snow boots. A really nice pair of black dress shoes with a slight lift for anything fancy. One set of white high heels still in the box from my aunt for graduation. And a pair of blue sandals which don't see enough use. I bet you have a lot more than that."

Definitely more but not a lot more. Enough to not remember the exact number though. But far more heels. And many more boots. Lina smiled when I talked about my black, leather boots. Slightly too big for her though. 

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"So my one uncle, not Archie, had a little dog named Scruffles, who looked like he'd been hit by something heavy and angry, and my other uncle had a cat, also named Scruffles, who looked like the thing that hit him. Somehow, Archie was probably responsible for the situation, hehe."

I preferred cats, especially on a day where a random dog decided to include me in the creepiest staring contest. Champ was the best kitty. That girl rubbed her crotch all over everything in the house till the day she died. I respected that.

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"I have all these little moments I do my darnedest to forget. The moment when I was the only person in a class to fall for a math-related prank by the teacher and everyone else was snickering but I didn't know why because I thought he was going to leave us. And the moment I got paired up with Dylan Comstock in Health for Heimlich practice. He was over six feet and covered in muscles because he was...something on the football team. He seemed so clever and funny. And I was behind him and I zoned out. Next thing, I hear 'Eww, the f'...only the full f-bomb. Instead of his chest, my hands were at his crotch."

Lina's face went flush as she grimaced. The embarrassment ebbed only a little as she tried to smile while saying, "First time for me. But like ten minutes earlier one of the cheer girls 'accidentally' did about the same to another guy. The teacher said something but they both laughed it off. With me, everyone in the room laughed. Dylan said a whole bunch of things, but I couldn't process it. I must've laughed it off too and apologized. People tell me I did. Apparently, the teacher was just setting us up to show what to do when the normal position is too difficult."

I scowled and shot out, "What an asshole teacher. They shouldn't have put you in that position where you were sure to feel embarrassed. I've seen decent people teach life-saving procedures while helping all sorts through them. That teacher is a piece of shit and should've been the one laughed at for being a goddamn dumbass."

I could tell in Lina's dipped eyes there was more she was going to say. More bad memories. But she resisted them and smirked as she declared, "Yeah, he was pretty lousy. And now...I'm better at health things than he ever was." She flicked her tongue out to send a raspberry to wherever the jerk might be.

She was pretty darn good. Fully-certified in CPR and first-aid (the library offered free classes). Just a negative TB test and a few more classes and she could replace Deb. Actually, not a bad idea. Except she had even more problems with needles than some patients. Not unfeeling and cruel enough to replace Deb. Sorry.

My afternoon work included a doctor who was convinced that his patient was just trying to get pain drugs from him so, even though he sent her over to get an x-ray, just play along with her. Yeah, just play along with a woman who crumbled in pain at the least movement of her arm downward. Just play along with a fracture of the humerus so obvious that even I could fucking see it. And you be sure to play along when she sues your old ass for malpractice. 

Lina's afternoon work included trying not to draw blood from her fingers as a restless brat with one of the loaners didn't realize that swinging it around back and forth at people was not how to control it. I noticed an old lady with close-cropped, graying hair who had the most animated reactions to everything in her game. Guy falls down a hole, shake a closed hand and laugh. Music plays, little clap for victory. Beast comes out of nowhere, hold out a hand as though that would stop it from attacking. At least everyone seemed to be having fun.

As we locked up, Lina made sure everything was done. She finished my transcriptions, notes, and logs. She scrubbed and tidied all over. We were out before the sun had even finished setting. 

I took her back to her place first so she could change out of her scrubs. She emerged in quite an outfit. 

Same shoes but bright-blue drawstring cargo pants covered in "sprites". There were all sorts of characters. Some of them looked vaguely-familiar but all of them seemed to be jumping or running around their area of the pants. 

Her fitted top was not the PAC-MAN one we bought together but a silver one that showed a woman standing before a surreal, cutout landscape marked, "Aperture Labs External Testing Site" and "P3". Little symbols, like a slice of cake and a cube with a heart, adorned the rest of the top. Over that, unzipped, she had a navy windbreaker with orange trim and more sci-fi imagery.

She did have on the purple-and-pink fingerless gloves from Saturday and, as she lifted a pant leg to show, a pair of knee-high black socks with a blue Pac-Man chasing ghosts around a field of dots. She also still had the golden hairpin and her canvas bag.

Pouting, she lamented, "I wanted to take my Onett tote but it wasn't in my closet. If the extra me took it to California...they better bring it back and with plenty of swag."

From my place, it was easier to just walk since The Salty Lemon's parking lot was not designed with cars actually entering and leaving in mind. Besides, it was just two blocks away. 

I changed into an older pair of jeans and a long-sleeved top with a nice neckline before we left.

Lina scampered ahead and ducked under the dense, low branch of a tree slowly dropping red leaves. Looking back, she asked, "Did you sign up too?"

I chuckled. "Nope. Just here to cheer you on and drink a lot."

She grinned and remarked, "I'll be ready to call a cab to take you home."

God, no more cabs. I flashed my tongue and told her if I had to crawl home for an hour like a zombie then fine. 

As expected, the parking lot was half full of parked cars and half full of cars slowly trying not to hit parked cars. The eponymous Salty Lemon glowed on a dangling sign. It balled up its cartoon fists, chomped on a wood pipe, and sprayed juice at some unseen foe. With a strut in her step, Lina walked up to the front door and held it open. 

Inside, there was already a busy roar. The theme of this pub had always been kinda all over the place. It led you in like the railing on the side of a boat but the bar was more of a garden with some real lemon trees by the skylights. Past the billiards and the pinball machine, the restrooms were sea-themed with "buoys" and "gulls". 

I could see laptops on folding tables and other...hardware set up in the main area. A little in front of us, behind one of the booths, was a small sign-in table. A woman with a pixie cut of purple hair and a heavy coat of lipstick sat there with stickers and a stapled sheaf of papers in front of her. She wore a top with a phrase that annoyed the crap out of me. The name on her chest read "Becky". I didn't recognize her.

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Becky the B-word [https://i.imgur.com/aTqpewq.jpg]

Lina went up to the table and said, "Here for the competition tonight. Lina Owlswatter."

As I approached beside, a long moment passed where Becky stared right at Lina. Sharply, she answered with a voice like she had something dangling in her throat, "Sorry! Too late. No more." Her filthy-purple, long nails hastily-covered the papers in front of her as she kept her still stare.

Lina stopped in place and said a soft, "Umm...I...", looking to me before looking back. 

With a gasp, Becky cackled and said, "Juuusst screwing with ya. They're still getting ready and shit. We got rounds. Gotta sign up ahead of time, Lina Oswell."

Less than a minute and I already wanted to stab this bitch in the face with her own fucking claws.

Lina took a deep breath and clarified, "I'm actually Lina Owlswatter. O-W-L-S-W-A-T-T-E-R. And just Lina, L-I-N-A."

Becky snorted. "Owl swatter? Crazy name. Alright. O...W...nuh-uh. Not on here." She barely turned the page to check...

Whatever smile on Lina's face slipped away. Her eyes searched with uncertain panic as she tried, "But..umm.."

My turn. "She is registered. It was called in on Monday. I spelled the name out several times. Check again."

Becky flipped the papers around and hid the stickers. "Not by my list. Tough luck. Try next month."

I glared at the list. I was either gonna find Lina's name while her lazy, rude ass couldn't or I was gonna feed it to her page by page.

Lina turned, sighed, and tried her best smile. "It's alright. We can watch the competition and cheer people on together."

Nuh-uh. I called. I made sure. Someone here screwed up. 

I stepped around Lina and set my hands on the table. Becky looked really fucking smug. 

Restraint. I dealt with worse all day long. "I would like to discuss the registration with the manager, please."

She folded her arms across the table. "The manager isn't responsible, I am. I took down the names and my list is official. Your friend or whatever isn't on the list. Screwww up..."

From around the booth, a tall, older man with golden-blond hair and a face like some guy from a movie joined us and asked, "What seems to be the problem over here? Becky?"

The purple cunt leaned back and puffed up her ugly lips. "They didn't register. They're not on the form." 

The older man looked between me and Becky. I told him, "Monday afternoon, I registered my friend, Lina Owlswatter, for the gaming event. The person on the line took down the name. I spelled it several times and confirmed it. I'm trying to understand why her name isn't listed." Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw Becky pantomiming my words.

The man listened and nodded. "Of course. The list, please." Becky plopped it in front of him. 

He paged through and asked for the name again. I spelled it out carefully but also wondered where Lina was. Behind me, somewhere. I hoped she hadn't retreated to a corner or run off crying. God, was this even worth it?

With an uncertain sound, the man shook his head and informed me, "I'm afraid that last name isn't here but...let me skim a little...oh!"

He turned back to the first page and announced, "There is a Lina here.. Allwetter though. A-L-L-W-E-T-T-E-R." 

The callback number matched my beautiful, piece of shit phone.

Becky pouted. "It's a stupid, crazy name. And the phones here are shit. How am I supposed to hear weird names on them?"

The man sighed, put a hand to his chest, and told me, "My apologies for all this trouble. I can offer you both free drinks for the evening plus appetizers, if you aren't drinking. And....Becky..." He turned to her with a stern look. "Grow the fuck up. This is a pleasant event for fun and lively gaming competition. Candace can finish the sign-ins."

Becky snarled. "Godammit, daddy! You're such a fucking...oh my god!" She puffed and stormed off.

With the storm cleared, I looked around to check on Lina. Thankfully, she hadn't gone far. She clasped her hands in front of her with a wide gaze of surprise. And I could see the faintest smile on her face.

Candace took care of us in every way Becky did not. She got the fucked-up name blotted out and the right one written in the right place. She got a little sticker name-tag for Lina as a registered competitor. And she even told her, "Your pants are the coolest."

Personally, I thought everything she was wearing was "the coolest". Lina gave her the link to where she bought them and let her take a picture with her phone. Reviewing it, Candace marveled, "There's even Donkey Kong. Wow...I could stare at these pants all day long."