Day 6

Start writing a story that...

Step 1: has a character who meets a childhood friend

Step 2: add this word: helmet

Step 3: add a character who writes a book

Step 4: include a dialogue that begins with: why are you crying?
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"Welcome to Sir Paints-a-lot! Are you here for a birthday party?"

Jana hardly looked up as she gave her greeting. There were a lot of details to track on the computer and customer service didn't really matter until the painting started. She just had to get them in and settled as quickly as possible to keep things moving.

"Jana? Jana Koepler?" said the woman who approached the counter.

Jana looked up and saw a familiar-looking face, now 20-years-older, staring at her with raised eyebrows.

"It's Karen Jacobson," the woman said. "We were in Mr. Murphy's senior English class."

Jana searched for a memory to connect the time and place. Karen? Karen! Right. The girl most likely to succeed, who was also so nice, no one hated her for being so amazing. God, she was the worst. Jana looked at Karen's leather jacket and heels, and the adorably dressed 6-year-old in tow, and assumed that Karen had, in fact, succeeded. And here was Jana, wearing a rainbow-colored helmet and earning minimum wage for guiding preschoolers through painting tantrums in a room that looked like a dragon swallowed cans of paint and threw them all up on the castle walls.

"Wow, it's been a long time," Jana finally said. "How have you been?"

"Great. Busy, but great! You know how it is: career, kids, the whole thing. I just published a new book about the neuropsychology of childhood trauma for Harvard University Press. So glad that's finally done and I can "relax!"

Karen said relax with air quotes. Jana nodded.

"That sounds great," Jana said. She smiled, not sure if she could move things forward on the painting to avoid the misery or if she was expected to admit to what she was doing.

"So what have you been up to?" Karen asked.

Jana was silent. She couldn't actually pretend this wasn't her life, but how much did she have to admit?

"I want a color helmet, too!" the little boy beside Karen shouted. "Now!"

Karen leaned down on her tottering heels to bring herself to his eye-level.

"Mommy knows this lady from long, long ago. We were still in school when we met. Isn't that amazing?"

"Helmet, Mommy. Helmet!" he cried, dismissing the amazing coincidence.

"Don't fuss, Sweetie. We'll get you set up soon."

She stood back up and gave Jana a small eye-roll followed by another smile.

"Patrick loves to paint! So, I'm sorry, you were saying?"

Patrick saw that the grown-up conversation had resumed with no change in his situation.

"Hellllllmeeehhhht!" he screamed. "Nooowwwww!!!"

Karen leaned down again and put her hands on his shoulders.

"Why are you crying? Sweetheart, did you forget your calm-down countdown?"

Jana looked at Karen soothing Patrick and wondered if she could check them in now.