Why Can't She Love Me?

The rain became harsh.

Storms brew more than usual.

Everyone is terrified of flooding except me.

I find it rather soothing—the rain washing away the gases of motor machines and the toxic fumes of factories.

It’ll begin to smell like earth.

Then a rainbow will come right after.

It’s simple—the way a storm works alongside nature. It brings torrential disasters, creating masses of green vegetation for the human race, and then afterward, an iridescent of colors will come.

The perfect combination of dark and light works together.

I don’t mind using a bus to go places. Its aroma is distinctive. You meet new individuals. Their appearance when given various hairstyles, eye colors, mouth shapes, and nose sizes. Every conceivable complex form and size

I wear earphones to block out the noise surrounding me. I don’t like sound, lights, or people. I want the quiet space and the time I take to be alone.

There is no one to distract me from working or from my thoughts. My gloomy day would be better spent at home drawing or reading, most often I take delight in spending time with my pet lizard.

I sensed the bus stop, so I knew my final destination was right here. Along with the rest of the throng, I make my way out into the chaos, which consists of noise, lights, smells, and storms that bombard my senses.

My stomach knots up with worry, and I feel like I'm about to burst into small pieces if I let go, but I keep myself in check.

“One, two, three, blue, purple, yellow, dogs, cats, lizards,” I repeat those words under my breath. It helps to calm myself whenever I’m in a situation where I don’t feel comfortable. I say them because they’re either something I like speaking or something that is a favorite of mine.

Like the lizard, I have a pet lizard that smiles, but I think he only smiles when I feed him crickets. Either way, he’s the only thing that can even make me laugh, just from his little bug-eating self.

He is as innocent as an animal can be, ignorant of the world around him.

I walk towards the bakery, where I set up the tables and lounges for the customers to sit down in comfort.

I work at a small bakery in San Francisco.

For some reason, the aroma of freshly baked goods and flowers always puts a smile on my face. A feeling of security and familiarity is evoked. While I wait for a new customer to come, I put on my apron. To place an order for coffee, just a few details are required. The audience gets drenched as the storm moves through. Some of them have left puddles and damp footprints that I'll have to clear up.

“Issa?” As I make coffee for the woman working the first register, I get up from my seat. My boss is a sweet elderly lady who took the time to learn about my illness before hiring me. Because I can't keep a conversation going for more than a minute—which means I have to smile and be polite to the customers—she doesn't make me.

“Yes, Mrs. Dooley?” I reply.

“Did you have a nice weekend?”

“Yes, it was quite lovely; my mother and I went to a museum of modern art.” I don’t like to go out, as I’ve mentioned, but when I do, it has to be somewhere quiet and with low lighting with very few or no people.

Museums are the ideal place to go.

“How wonderful! I’m glad you had a nice time, dear. How is your mother, by the way? I hope her trip to Mexico wasn’t too hectic." She asks.

“Fortunately, it was not." My mouth hurts from speaking so much.

“I’m glad to hear. Don’t overwork too hard, Issa. I’ll be back; I have a few errands to run. You’re in charge while I’m away,” she says as she walks away from the bakery into the storm, heading inside her small bug. I was left with only two employees for the day; another one who was missing was rather late, per usual.

“Hey Issa, Jade and I are going on break; do you think you’ll be fine?” Ashley asked as I was giving a customer their pastry, as they left a tip behind.

“I’ll be fine,” I answered, my voice monotonous.

“Cool, we won’t take long.” The two leave for who knows where, and I’m left enclosed in silence.

No customers or employees to bother.

It was my time of peace.

I close the blinds and flip the open sign to closed. I tie my hair up with my blue ribbon, take my apron off, push my glasses back to the ridge of my nose, then grab a broom and turn on the music.

I dusted, washed, mopped, and cleaned as quickly and efficiently as possible while the two were gone. They usually take an hour or two to arrive back. I don’t mind; I don’t encourage it, yet I don’t stop the two girls either.

The sounds of fists are loudly banging on the shop door as I am almost finished cleaning it. My heart rate speeds, and my hand slips, dropping the broom.

I slowly walk to the door, peeking through the window to see who it is. It was the other employee who was soaked and irritated.

“Why are you late, Jessica?” I ask.

“None of your business; why is the store closed?" She gives me an accusing tone, which I don’t take too kindly. However, I continue to stare at her, observing her next moves.

“You’re late again, Jessica; I don’t like it.” I was never fond of her presence. It made me feel uneasy at times.

"Well, lucky for me, I don’t do things to please you, Issa. Leave me alone and get back to work." I roll my eyes, putting my apron back on.

“I’m in charge here until Mrs. Dooley comes back.”

“Oh yeah, is there anyone here to know that?” She looks at me with an accusing expression while I remain motionless, and she asks. As Jessica's focused gaze studies me, I can feel my skin heating up. Prolonged eye contact can be unnerving, therefore I'm the first to turn away.

“Yes, the other employees...”

“They’re out, and I doubt they’ll care if you were put in charge anyway. When I’m here, you already know who has the last say.” She says this as if it’ll change their minds.

I still remember vividly what happened the last time Jessica was in charge; her idiotic tendencies put mine and other lives at risk for her stupidity. Alcohol and baking pastries should never be mixed in this professional setting.

“I don’t think your grandmother would like that,” I answer, and it’s because of her grandmother that she even has a job.

“Let me deal with her, Issa. Get back to work and flip the sign open." I’m only doing it because I was going to do it anyway, not because she said so.

Returning customers were soon placing orders for pastries and coffee. Many more enroll just to take advantage of the free wifi and study. Another individual entered, inquiring about Mary's whereabouts while waxing descriptive sighting of the largest dogs he had ever laid eyes on.There is something about giant wild animals roaming the national parks here in San Francisco.

“I swear to you, I haven’t ever seen anything like it.”

“I believe you.”

“Oh child, thank the Lord someone listened! Stay away from the woods, you hear me!” He seemed nervous and unhinged, so I calmly explained to the poor man that there’s no such thing as giant wild beasts, and he had nothing to fear.

As for Mary, I told him he couldn’t find any here unless he went to a dispensary. He was kind enough to leave me his molly. I threw it down the toilet as soon as the old man disappeared. Soon afterward, the other employees arrived from their lunch break and were full-on cackling.

"Oh, hey Jessica, when did you get here?” Jade asks.

“About an hour ago, by the way, you two were way over past your guys’ break time." The two had their eyes widened in surprise. They both stared at me for assistance, but I couldn’t say anything because it wasn’t necessarily a lie. I don’t tell the girls what to do, but I don’t stop them either. As I see it, they’re two adult women who made their decision. I don’t need to interfere with their choices.

"Oh, c'mon, Jess, give us a break. We lost track of time,” Ashley responds.

“Put on the apron and start helping out." Jessica is a person who you’d have no intention of getting to know for the trouble she brings, yet I admire her for her endurance to take action even when she looks horrible from the day of her proclivities.

I sometimes smell the foul after-effects of alcohol under her breath. She’s a party girl, as her grandmother has mentioned before. I, on the other hand, have never been a party person or a social person.

The day has ended with the night emerging.

My shift at the bakeshop was over.

My boss, Mrs. Dooley, had arrived, acknowledging that we had worked quite a hectic day, giving us time to clean up, wash away the mess, hang our aprons, and walk out into the night, returning home.

“Have a nice night, Issa; I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You have a nice night as well, Mrs. Dooley." I walk away slowly from the bakery, heading for the bus stop. Not stopping at all, even as I hear Mrs. Dooley speak once again.

“Alpha, what a pleasant surprise.” From the distance, I can tell Mrs. Dooley was greeting several people from her shop. The old woman greets someone named Alpha. I never heard someone of that particular name before.

I might have to research what it could mean other than a leader. Unfortunately, by then I’m gone from earshot, not knowing who her mysterious guests are. They seemed important enough to keep the bakery going.