Free Past Forward Volume 1 by Chautona Havig Page A

what?” Shannon Dougherty stood with the rest of the
movie group, waiting for the box office to open.
    “Not that I know of,” Martinez loved being
the center of attention. “He just said—” Carlos Martinez jumped and
stuffed his hand in his pocket retrieving a buzzing cell phone. “I
hate that vibrate thing.”
    Seconds later, he snapped it shut and turned
back to Shannon. “I guess not. He thinks she’d find Beau
Geste a little too sad right now. He’s taking her to that
Alcott one tomorrow.”
    “Alcott?”
    Eden pointed to the poster near their group.
“Yeah. She’s the lady who wrote Little Women . They made a
movie out of one of her other books, Eight Cousins . It’s
about some kid whose parents died and her uncle has to raise her.
That’ll be cheerful.”

    “I feel sick.”
    Chad stared in horror at Willow before he
realized that she was not discussing the quality of the movie. Eyes
closed, Willow had her hand clapped over her mouth as though the
gesture would make a difference. He stared at the remainder of the
popcorn in their bucket and tossed it on the floor at their
feet.
    “Here, use this.”
    As though permission was all that’d held her
back, Willow lost her refreshments. The half-empty theater gave
them some privacy but not enough for them to be able to sit still
and wait for another wave of nausea. She wiped at her mouth with a
napkin and then tossed it in the bucket.
    “I’ve got to get rid of this or everyone
else will get sick. Should I get another bucket?”
    “Can we leave? I’m afraid it’ll happen
again. I don’t know what is wrong with me, but I don’t want to get
everyone sick.”
    Chad nodded and navigated his way down the
row of seats to the aisle. He saw Willow stand, take a step, and
then collapse into the seat he’d just vacated. He took a step
toward her, saw the bucket, and realized he probably needed a fresh
one. Immediately.
    Just outside the theater door, a trashcan
tempted him, but he resisted. He disposed of the contents of the
bucket in the men’s room, tossing the bucket in the garbage, and
raced for the concession counter begging for another bucket. “My
friend is sick—”
    “You’ll have to buy an extra-large popcorn
if you want a bucket.”
    “I just need the bucket in case she throws
up again! Do you want it all over your floor?”
    The pimply faced teenager shook his head
solemnly. “Nope, we wouldn’t want that, but I have to charge the
full price of an extra-large popcorn, or I can’t give you the
bucket.”
    “What about a large drink cup?”
    “Nope,” the reply came before he’d finished
speaking. “I have to charge for those too.”
    “I should just let it splatter your floor
and see how your customers like it!”
    “Well, I don’t have to clean it up, but I
don’t think it would be very nice to do that to the girls. They’d
probably be pretty grossed out.”
    Tired of arguing, and praying that he wasn’t
too late, Chad shoved another six dollars across the counter and
waited impatiently as the kid punched buttons, smoothed bills,
faced them all the same direction, and finally closed the drawer.
As he began to wash his hands, Chad lost his patience. Again.
    “I don’t need clean hands, I need the
bucket!”
    “I can’t handle popcorn after I touch money.
The health department is very particular about that.”
    Chad reached ineffectively across the
counter for the bucket in the boy’s hand. “I don’t want the
popcorn. I just need the bucket.”
    “Oh, I have to give you the popcorn; you
paid for it!”
    “But I don’t want it!”
    Patiently, as though speaking to a very
young child, the teenager explained cinematic protocol. “It works
like this. You pay for the popcorn; I give it to you. You didn’t
buy a bucket; you bought a bucket of popcorn. If I don’t give you
what you bought, then I get in trouble with the boss. You could
pitch a fit and get me fired for not giving you what you paid for
so I gotta give you