Snowblind Friend is playing through the speakers. Lochlan taps one foot against the hard-packed ground while we wait in the blazing sun. He lifts one skinny arm up to shield his face as he squints at me. The hem of his green and white striped t-shirt rises up above his jeans when he does it and I see freckled skin along his hip. If he tucked his t-shirt in like I do it probably wouldn't do that, I think and sweat rolls down my forehead, pressing my bangs to my own freckled skin.
He said he wanted heaven but praying was too slow, so he bought a ticket to an airline made of snowwwwwwww-
What does that even mean? Like he wants to go somewhere to cold, to church?
No, Bridget. I'll tell you when you're older.
Why can't I know today?
Remember that guy sitting in the doorway a month ago? The one that didn't know where he was? And you said he had flour all over his nose holes? It means that. Doing drugs that are bad.
Not like from the doctor?
No, like from the shaman.
Oh.
(The shaman was someone who lurked around the fringe and supplied people on the tour with their own brand of heaven for their day off. Or maybe for every day, I don't know.)
Stars on 45 comes on, the Beatles medley. My favourite. I shake my butt and Lochlan frowns and shakes his head once. It means stop.
Why don't you go and get some lemonade and wait for me over by Melody? Melody was the lady on this tour who oversees the food trucks. She's very nice. She told me she killed her husband and hit the road. I asked her how she did it and she told me I was too young to hear those kinds of horror stories but that I would grown up in a world with one less monster. I told Lochlan this and he laughed and said he wouldn't be surprised.
I want to wait with you though.
You'll burn. Go.
I don't argue with him. I take the five dollar bill and go get two lemonades. Melody won't take my money so I stuff it in the tip jar and she winks at me. She'll give it back to Lochlan tonight I bet. Everyone spoils us as we are the youngest people on the tour and what they know is that Lochlan is old enough to be emancipated and he has guardianship of me, that I am his little sister and we're escaping bad, drunk parents. For some reason everyone here is also escaping something so they accept it as gospel and give us free food and easier jobs. They look out for us.
And some of them prey on us, and so Lochlan waits patiently outside the office for the rest of his paycheck, as only half of it was in the envelope when he was handed it earlier at circle meeting.
He says he always keeps track of his hours and this isn't the kind of advantage he worries about people trying to take. That money problems will always be fixed if you ask people to be straight up with you.
I shake my butt a little under the awning while I sip my lemonade and hold Lochlan's in my left hand. His ice is melting and I finally see him disappearing into the office. He comes out three minutes later with another envelope and holds it up. Victory. Maybe the boss thought he wouldn't count every last dollar but he always taught me to do that and said it's up to me to see that it's right, no one else and to never assume.
I hold up his lemonade in return and some of it sloshes down my arm, dripping off my elbow onto my Nikes. He smiles really big and heads over, just as the Beatles medley ends. I don't hear what's next. I get a kiss on the cheek and a showman's flourish in his Thank you, Miss as he takes the cup and drinks it in one go, shaking his hair off his face, grimacing at the sour-sweetness of the drink.