Completely (Un)expected

All The Rides We Take

My routine had basically been set at this point. I'd wake up, have breakfast with Gerard and Mikey before going to the comic store where I'd spend about two hours entering all the numbers. On the days I didn't go into the store, Mikey and I passed the time wandering around Jersey, going to the art galleries, being obnoxious at the local library or just staying home and watching the old thriller movies that he insisted I needed to see.

I was making good progress with my big box of papers and I was confident that I would be able to finish all of it by Mr. Riket's May deadline. Aside from entering the data into the computer, I didn't really have any other responsibilities at the store, but I often times found myself perusing the new comics and spending my afternoons up at the front with Gerard, just reading through the magazines and passing the time once I'd finished my logging for the day.

I'd learned the basics of the register from watching Gerard, though I'd never actually used it, and I'd come to know some of the regulars' names. It was as if I was finding my place in Jersey, learning where I fit, and it was nice, but at the same time, it was hard going through it without my dad.

He'd always been my other half and now I had to learn where I belonged without him by my side the whole time. I had to be one-hundred percent, totally my own person, and I had little to no clue who she was.

The afternoons were quiet and mellow at the comic shop, mostly since the weather was frequently nice and people would much rather be outside enjoying it than being holed up in a dusty little store; I know I did.

The numbers had all been logged and I was just starting to enter the figures for nineteen-seventy-nine when I heard the door in the front chime. Mikey came into the small back room where I was a moment later. He had car keys in his hands and I wondered what he was up to considering he normally didn't drive.

"Let's go, Henri," he said, twirling the keys around his fingers while leaning coolly against the door frame.

"Go where?" I asked mindlessly as I continued to keep focused on the computer screen.

"Well, home first, so you can change." I picked my head up and gave Mikey a confused look. Why would I need to change?

"Change-?" I began to ask, but Mikey cut me off again.

"You should probably bring a towel, too," he said, looking off in the distance and checking off his mental list.

"Wait, Mikey," I said, standing up and going over to him, leaning against the front of the desk. "What are you talking about?"

"Our afternoon plans," he said nonchalantly, pausing for a moment. "When's the last time you've been to the beach?"

I thought for a moment. In all of our travels, one place my dad and I rarely frequented was the beach. There weren't any in Pennsylvania, and whenever we went out on the road, it was to go to a show, never the beach. It had probably been a few years, if that.

"I don't know," I shrugged. "Maybe . . . "

I tried to recall the last time I'd been to the beach, but Mikey cut me off before I could answer. "That's too long. Let's go." Mikey started to walk away, expecting me to follow him, but I grabbed his arm to turn him back to me.

"Mikey," I chided, getting his attention back. "I can't just leave; I have to enter the rest of the seventies."

Just then, Mr. Ricket stepped in, probably having heard a majority of my and Mikey's conversation considering that the walls were thinner than paper.

"Henri," he said, pretending he had no idea what was up. "You've been getting pretty far with the entries, why don't you take off early today?"

"But, I still hav-"