Sounding The Current: Chapter 11 – Restraining Order

Lisa took the next top card and carried it with her as she silenced the alarm on her phone. She turned back to face the table but remained in place. The lighting was just right to better appreciate the card in her hand.

“XIV” “TEMPERANCE” A pool partially hidden behind green… something… was fed from a waterfall that looked more like drapes in the background. Seven small somethings were connected to a center chalice by either pebbles or pearls. From the center chalice, multiple overlapping forms rose looking like what you get when you mix soap bubbles, ooze, and those weird forms that happen when you’re trying to mix cornstarch with cold water.

She knew she was holding paper and ink, but between the “conversation” she just had with Jean and the sensual forms on the card, the Temperance card felt alive to Lisa in some way. As if the more she held and focused on the card, the more the forms seemed to move in her sight.

She told herself that she was still emotionally charged and was likely seeing things as a result. She went to the table and laid the card on top of its deck. The decorated deck gave “Balance, Moderation, Reason” as the keywords for the card. But the torn list of meanings had a catchphrase of “Moderate moderately” to remember the card by. The two sets contradicted each other just as it was with the Star card.

Her rideshare trip was without any events, expected or unexpected. The driver didn’t ask any invasive questions, but answered all of her questions plainly and evenly. The traffic was smooth, but not so much that it was unusual. The walk from the parking lot and through the mall to her kiosk job was boring and didn’t even warrant a complete sentence in her thoughts as she mulled over her conversation with Jean.

She arrived at the kiosk a few minutes prior to the official start of her shift. Not surprisingly, Marla had arrived twenty minutes prior as the shift supervisor. If all went as it usually does, Bebe would be twenty minutes late. Marla raised an eyebrow to see Lisa, as usually, Lisa would be at least thirty minutes late, herself.

“Feeling better?” Marla recorded Lisa’s official shift start time as one minute prior to the hour’s start. She handed a clipboard to her holding the corporate’s daily encouragement handout. It was required reading by all employees and subject to much verbal abuse by Lisa and Bebe. Marla had stopped taking it seriously one way or the other a long time ago.

“Yea? Did someone say I was going to call in sick? There’s been a shit of rumors about me lately.” Any other time, Lisa would have made a great show of appearing to read the sheet before handing it back. This time, Lisa actually sat on the stool and read it from headline to footnote, much to Marla’s surprise.

“I’ve heard a few, but they were crude, even with your antics. I was going to say that last shift, you weren’t your usual self, but now that you’re actually reading that, you are even less of yourself right now. Things alright?” Marla looked Lisa over. She could tell that Lisa had been crying recently, but otherwise there was no physical tell that Lisa was in any kind of distress.

Lisa waited until she had read the entire paper before even thinking of answering Marla’s question. She knew her eyes were red from being angry earlier and that she was wearing less makeup than usual, but she didn’t think that was anything to be worried about.

The daily encouragement read like it had been cribbed from a random internet search for feel good phrases and Creative Commons clip art. In the middle of the page, in large size text and surrounded by a thick lined box, was a quote. “Everything in moderation, including moderation.” It was attributed to Mark Twain.

The quote itched her memory and she sat still trying to remember both who the quote should be attributed to and where she had seen a similar expression. She didn’t realize that her efforts were written on her face until Marla touched her shoulder.

“No, really, are you okay? Because… let’s just say you’re not the quiet type.”

She handed the clipboard back to Marla. “Yea. I’m okay. Just… facing some shit.”

“Okay, well, if you want to talk about anything.” Marla thought about some of the topics she has overheard between Lisa and Bebe. “Well, almost anything. Stuff you might ask an aunt or something.”

Marla had turned away while talking so she didn’t see Lisa wince at the mention of the family relation. She turned back to see Lisa wearing the usual mask of indifference that she was accustomed to. Before either woman could say anything Bebe came running up to the kiosk.

“Hi! I’m here! Did the clocks change?! I can’t be that late!” Bebe checked her watch and the clock on the cash register. “Wow, it’s a miracle! Lisa showed up before me!”

“Yea.” Bebe didn’t catch the flatness in Lisa’s voice. Marla did but only looked at Lisa for a few seconds before handing the corporate encouragement to Bebe. Bebe took the clipboard with an exaggerated gesture then immediately handed it back to Marla proclaiming that she was super duper encouraged for the day and golly gee whiz she sure is glad her life’s purpose is to sell gadgets and blinkenators!

Marla turned to begin her usual lecture about growing up but realized that Lisa had not joined in the rude commentary. Marla looked back at Lisa but younger woman had already left her seat to take her place as the hawker of the hour. Marla said nothing to either woman but as she silently recorded Bebe’s arrival time, she did note that Lisa’s voice seemed flatter than usual and she wasn’t using her body language to catch attention. She thought Lisa was probably just too worn out from partying the night before to put forth any effort greater than “enough”.

The night went on with a steady flow. Marla continued to observe how unreactive Lisa was to everything that happened and to everything that didn’t happen. When a fight broke out in the food court, Bebe was quick to leave the kiosk to watch the spontaneous entertainment. Lisa remained at the kiosk and took up station on the far side to watch for thieves looking for an opportunity.

When a very cute and attractive young man tried to flirt with Lisa in hopes of gaining… something, Lisa just turned him down, pointing out that she was working, and settled the matter by telling him that she wasn’t seeing anyone. Marla could not bury her concern any further. Lisa was definitely not acting like her usual self and Marla wondered if Lisa was using any recreational substances.

“Bebe, you’re on point. I need to talk to Lisa about a thing. Lisa, come sit over here with me a bit.” Bebe pouted while Lisa quietly complied. Marla and Lisa sat at a rest bench far enough away from the kiosk that Bebe couldn’t overhear them, but close enough to deal with any customer rush or snatch-n-grab runner.

“What are you on?” Marla was intentionally accusative and brunt.

“I’m clean.” Lisa’s reply was as flat as the bench. Any other time, Lisa’s shrill denials would have been heard all the way down to the police office halfway down the walkway. Lisa was not even offended by the accusation.

“Bullshit, you are. Is this prescription? Xanax or Prozac or something like that? I mean, you’re not required to tell me, but you are not behaving as yourself.”

Lisa sat still for a moment as if listening to some inner voice. She slowly nodded twice then looked at Marla. The elder woman shuddered at the sight of Lisa’s face as calm and as smooth as a mannequin’s.

“I’m clean. I’m not on anything, doctor’s prescription or otherwise. I’m just me. I’m just… going through a thing.” The more Lisa spoke, the more Marla was wondering if it would be worth it to have Lisa screened for drugs anyway. It was creepy as hell how flat Lisa’s voice was.

Lisa tilted her head and narrowed her eyes as a thought filtered through the settling layers of her mind. “Why? Why are you asking? What is it that you are seeing?”

Marla forced herself to stay seated. “You’re flat. Your voice is flat. You have no emotional gestures or body postures. I’ve seen broken mannequins with more sense of life to them than you do right now. And none of this, not one bit of it, is normal for you. Or for that matter, for anyone else, unless they’re dropping something.”

“STOP! THIEF!” Both women looked up at the kiosk. Bebe was looking behind the kiosk at something but had not left her seat. A series of rapid footsteps were approaching. The shoplifter soon ran past the kiosk and the bench with two mall cops running soon after. Marla turned her head to watch them as they ran past. Lisa watched only enough to determine that they would not be interacting with her and immediately lost interest.

“See! That! The Lisa that worked earlier in the week would have been ogling the cops and cheering the thief! But look at you! You’re just sitting there like an ornament! This isn’t normal, Lisa, certainly not for you. Now, if you’re on something prescribed, I just need a doctor’s note.”

“Would you say…” Lisa’s brow moved slightly, making the gesture the greatest that Marla had seen from her all night. “That I have so low key in my responses that it’s like I’m throwing a blanket over everything, smoothing things out to the point where there’s no ups and downs?”

“Well, that’s a helluva way to put it, Lisa, but yet, I would say that. I’m used to trying to keep you from distracting your way out of a job, but tonight, I’m about to have you drug tested to keep it!”

“Marla.” The elder woman wasn’t sure if Lisa had spoken a statement or a question. “You’ve been trying to give me advice since I started working here, and I’ve always ignored it or trash talked it. May I ask you a question?”

Marla braced for the revealing of a terrible concern. “Of course.”

“You’re older than me and you’ve seen more to life than I have. Is it worth it to have… Is there value to… Maybe this is a rhetorical question and you have every right to sack me anyway.” Lisa looked past for a moment as if seeing someone behind Marla. “No one is every happy for very long and it feels like being angry lasts forever. Wouldn’t it be worth it to not feel these extremes at all? Wouldn’t it be better to live a life of moderation?”

Marla sat still for a moment wondering if this was the time to call for a paramedic. “Before I even think of tackling that, I need a straight answer out of you. Are you on any substances, recreational and/or prescribed?”

Lisa focused her attention back on Marla and smiled slightly. “No. I’m not. Really, I’m not. Clean as water. I’m just… tired… and… going through some shit. I’ve had to face some things lately and… well… it’s throwing me over the rail and I’m not sure how I’m going to land.”

Marla looked back at the kiosk. Bebe was ringing up a customer and giving Lisa very vicious looks as she did so. Nothing looked out of place or missing, so Marla concluded that the kiosk could be without her personal supervision for a few more minutes.

“Better to live a life of moderation? Yes. But if you’re trying to go the extreme that I think you’re taking, that’s not moderation, that’s death. Living a moderate life means that sometimes you’ll be happy and sometimes you’ll be sad. Sometimes you’ll have joy and sometimes you’ll have anger. There’s highs and lows to living, that’s what makes it living. What I’ve been wanting to hit you over the head for, is that you haven’t been wanting to accept the consequences of how you’re living. And if this new you is how you’re going to try and live from now on, my dear, that isn’t living. You’ll break. Have a nervous breakdown.”

Marla leaned in and put her hand on Lisa’s knee. “Funny how the quote of the day fits in whatever you have going on. Moderation in all things, including moderation. Being an adult does mean not living to extremes, but it still means living. It means having fun sometimes and being pissed as hell other times, but return to the center, return to balance, and live out your life the best you can.”

Bebe called for Marla to come help with a transaction as the customer was disputing the price. Marla sighed as reality inserted itself into her monologue. She patted Lisa’s knee. “Stay here a little longer. Work some things out. When you’re ready, come back to the kiosk.”

Lisa watched Marla go to settle the conflict by reviewing the charges. She knew the moment she found Bebe’s mistake by how Bebe’s voice changed and reminded Lisa of the chirping of birds. She wondered if she sounded like that to Jean when Jean was calling her out on her mistakes.

Truth be told, Lisa felt guilty about some of the things she said to Jean earlier in the day. Allowing herself to be angry and to demonstrate that anger while still in complete control was both terrifying and freeing. As a child, Lisa was always told to be calm, to refrain from anger, to not be so emotional so much that being emotional became an act of rebellion.

Anger was something that only real grownups could manage because anger could lead to so much destruction and ripping apart of families. Lisa didn’t want to become like the other adults in her life, and controlling her anger always felt like the only way to avoid passing on their cruelty.

Lisa didn’t want to tell Marla about the tarot cycle or the Temperance card. She didn’t want to speak about anything that even had the hint of the supernatural to anyone other than Rebecca and even then, it was a hard topic to start. It was Lisa’s hope that she could use the Temperance card to temper herself, but realize now that she had gone too far with the card’s effect and was hurting herself in a different way.

If she was going to work on her anger and keep it from controlling her, Lisa thought, then the first proper step would be to acknowledge that she was capable of being angry and owning it. She realized she was calling on the World card in a way, asking to have that part of her world revealed to her so she could begin healing it.

Bebe interrupted her introspection. Lisa looked up into Bebe’s face and was surprised to see her crying. Black streaks of mascara and eyeliner were smudged across her cheek. “I can’t work here anymore! It’s not my fault if the prices were wrong! It’s just not!” Bebe shoved herself forward to move past Lisa.

Lisa came quickly to the kiosk just in time to hear Marla explain that the products were at no charge to the customer because of the severe errors. “But, all charges were reversed, so your card should be unlocked within twenty-four hours. I understand if you don’t come back again, but at the very least, do have a nice day.”

The customer grunted as he left with his bag. Marla looked past Lisa in an attempt to get one last fleeting glimpse of Bebe leaving the mall. “So, Bebe scanned some items several times and then tried to pocket some of the refund when he caught her. That answers some questions of mine. But never mind that, how are you?”

“Better.” Lisa didn’t have her usual inflection back, but Marla noted her body language was more open. “And thank you. For talking to me.”

Marla didn’t look up from her paperwork but smiled broadly. “Any time. Who’d thought that Oscar Wilde would make things better.”

“Oscar Wilde? That quote is Ben Franklin’s.”

“No… Definitely Oscar Wilde. Sure fits his style.”

Lisa raised an eyebrow in defiance. Marla saw and for the first time all shift, stopped worrying about Lisa. “No.” Lisa cocked her head. “It sure fits the skirtchasing, womanizing, pig of Paris, Benjamin literally fucking Franklin!”

Marla put her paperwork away and pulled out her phone. “A fresh cinnamon roll says it’s Oscar Wilde.”

Lisa did the same. “Extra glaze on mine, please and thank you.”

The two women started looking up the quote on their phones as the evening settled into the mall and cooled off any pressure to continue being serious.

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