Shoes Upon Your Feet

Ok, before you read - tell me if you see the words "music", "artiste", "album", or anything of that sort in this story, aside from the one in the first sentence. I scanned it through, but I'm not very thorough. The plotline feels cliche, but I couldn't help it - Jen was annoying me, she forced me to write.

The music of Christmas carols hummed in the background as we walked through the rows of teddy bears, post cards, magazines and whatnot. The colourful designs of the greeting cards flashed down upon us, their plastic wrapping reflecting the glare of fluorescent tubes that lit the shop. Faces of people, strange paintings, and pictures of alleyways adorned the cards that sat on the labelled shelves. My friends and I combed the large store for the birthday present that Sarah had asked for: a Twilight “Lion and the Lamb” keychain. I would never understand her obsession with that ridiculously fluffy book, but I had to buy her the keychain, that immensely expensive keychain and no other. She had specifically said so, and thanked us in advance, effectively ensnaring us into an unspoken promise. Much as we disliked the thought of it, we were thus obliged, for propriety’s sake, to pool money and buy her the costly item. It rid me of 5 months worth of pocket allowance. So many people dying of poverty could've been fed, but nooo... I wished I had simply told her that I wouldn’t get it for her, since it was too expensive, but she would’ve sighed and done a sad face to make me guilty, or something of that sort. Sarah, an only daughter of a business tycoon, always got her way. Perhaps the skills of manipulation which had made her father so successful had passed down to her. Frowning, I browsed carefully. Who knew so famous a book, with so expensive a little merchandise, would be so hard to find?

“Y’know what?” said Karrie, frustration clear in her tone. “Let’s ask Mr Lonnie. I don’t think we can find it by ourselves.” Mr Lonnie was the store owner, and well-learned in his business. He could tell you what merchandise was the latest to come out, as well as point you every single object in his enormous shop. “Trust Sarah to give us the tallest order. Jen, why didn’t you just tell her?” A scowl was shot in my direction, before quickly changing into a resigned face. She cut off my protest before I began it. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. It’s just – why does she have to be so bloody difficult?” I opened my mouth, only to be interrupted again, this time by Jessie. “It’s not your fault, Jen. You couldn’t have done it, she always wins.” We walked to the counter silently, my insides burning with guilt. Jessie was right, as always – I didn’t have the guts to stand up to Sarah. My conscience gave me another painful jab as I realised that the three of us weren’t exactly rich, least of all Jessie, who was, after all, raised by her single mother, with four siblings, none of whom were working. Only she worked on summers as a waitress at diners, saving every bit of her wages. Though we offered to pay more of the share, she would have none of it. “I have my dignity,” was all she answered when asked.

Mr Lonnie was not behind the counter. Karrie rang the bell loudly as I stuffed my hand into my pocket and drew out my phone. It seemed to scream, “Do something, you coward! Are you so scared you can’t even stand up to some cow?”

“You don’t know her! She could wreck my social life!” I whispered, angry. Karrie turned around and gave me a puzzled glance, which I returned. She turned back. “Come on, you don’t even have a social life. Not beyond these two,” resumed the celly, glaring – could phones do that? – at me. “What’s it worth, hmm? Your non-existent popularity, or your best friend’s savings? Your reputation wins out every time. You, you, you. Is that all you think about?” I bowed down, ashamed to be so chastised by a cell phone. She – what am I talking about!? My conscience, rather, was the one that spoke to me – was right!

“Thanks, I needed that,” I muttered, my voice carefully lowered. I unlocked the keypad. Then the most unexpected happened. The phone vibrated wildly in my hand. “Calling… Sarah” appeared on the screen, and I picked up immediately. “’Lo?” Karrie and Jessie turned to me. “Sarah,” I mouthed back, and they listened intently. For their benefit, I put it on loudspeaker.

“Jenny? Listen: you know what I said about the keychain? Forget about it. You don’t have to get me anything. Sorry if I caused you any trouble.” Jessie looked at my Nokia with happy acceptance, and Karrie with confusion.

“Why?” I asked, my gaze flicking back and forth between the two.

“Um, it’s a long story.”

“That’s alright. I have all the time in the world.” At this juncture, Karrie glared at me. She wanted to get home to study. I simply raised my hand with a smile. Somehow, I could sense her reluctance, and that it was but an excuse. Embarrassment for Miss Queen Bee floated my boat any day. “Go on.”

“Well…” The words came out in a fast flow to rival the Yellow River’s. “I went to a shop and begged my dad to buy me lots of shoes, and I met this guy with no feet.” I could almost hear her flushing in shame at this admission, and smirked.

“Tell me about it!” I tried to sound as concerned as possible. She sighed.

“Dad dropped me off in town because he had to go to a meeting. He gave me lots of money,” she paused, mortified, and said in a low tone, “but I spent it all on drinks at Starbucks and jewellery. I went to P-, that shoe shop for women. And I picked out all the best shoes, but I had no money to buy them. So I waited outside until Dad came, and Yvonne called me. I told her about my shoe problem. I said, 'Daddy wouldn’t be so evil not to buy me these shoes. They’re a little pricey, I guess, but I can afford it.'. Then when he came, he wouldn’t buy me the shoes.” She took a deep breath, and I said, encouragingly, “Mmhhm…?”

“At first,” Sarah continued, but in an even smaller voice, “I pleaded him. But he wouldn’t give in. Then I threw a tantrum. I screamed. And an old man sitting outside the shop, he just started laughing. I was so shocked I stopped and asked him why. You can’t guess what he said.”

“No. I can’t.”

“He said, 'Here’s someone screaming about shoes, when it’s me who don’t got feet.'.” She mimicked an accent to perfection. “I just stared at him, and cried. He’s right. I’m selfish and stupid.”

We exchanged glances of pleasant surprise. “Look who’s grown up,” mumbled Karrie to me, cautiously avoiding the mouthpiece of my phone.

“You aren’t, Sarah,” said Jessie with sudden compassion. We stared at her, then shrugged. Jessie was just like that – spontaneous and sweet. “You just needed time to be mature.”

“Jessie? I’m sorry, it was wrong of me. That keychain was so expensive – there’re people out there who’re deaf!”

“We forgive you. It’s alright.” Jessie smiled. “Are you sure you don’t want it?”

“I could never live with myself if you did buy it. I gotta go. Bye guys.”

“Bye,” Jessie and I chorused.

We exchanged looks of glee, and exited the shop, leaving a confused Mr Lonnie behind us. And we bought her a birthday present anyway, though not nearly as dear or popular.

We bought her a pair of shoes.