I drove by that corner today, and although it has changed since the days of Red Hots and Tiger Beat, I saw the ghosts of us there by that long ago store. We were by the front door, trying to decide what to do with our popsicles before entering. We didn’t want them anymore, and without a trash can nearby, we were at a loss. In the end, we mailed them. That mailbox is long gone, but glancing down the street where it stood, I felt a flash of guilt, imagining the mess the mailman found on that long ago June afternoon.
Mindy is long gone too. It has been three years since they found her dead on the bathroom floor. I wish I could take us back – back to the days of David Cassidy and Tiger Beat, back to the days of Nana Dog and bunk beds and Mash, back before she got lost.
It feels like a part of her never left that corner store. The little girl part never grew up. In her kitchen drawer, she even left behind handfuls and handfuls of Sweet Tarts and Red Hots.