# What If Chapter 2

Chapter 2
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Remembering what Trish had said about Lucy playing her music, Anon spent the rest of the morning scouring every slightly dodgy record store, every second-hand guitar seller; any place where the old Lucy would’ve been drawn to. It was the early afternoon by the time Anon paused in a familiar park, his heart sinking. The park had changed in the five years since he was gone: The playground had gotten replaced, and a few semi-permanent vendors were lining the paths and walkways, attempting to secure some weekend sales. The morning mist had burned off, leaving in its wake a bright and crisp Fall day. Families were out taking walks through the park, letting their children play in the piles of fallen leaves ahead of them. Every sight of a happy couple made Anon cringe a little more; there had been no sign of Lucy in any of the stores he visited, and no one there had seen anyone matching her description.
Sighing, Anon sat back on one of the park benches, scrubbing his hands across his face. He had since stopped wishing to wake up, pleading that this was just a bad dream, that he would blink his eyes and find himself back in bed, Lucy snoring gently next to him. Running from this situation wasn’t going to get him anywhere; if he was going to find Lucy, he couldn’t stop looking for her here, wallowing in self-pity! With one final scrub to wipe away the initial building of tears, Anon got to his feet, already looking up more music stores on his phone.
A loud gurgling from his stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten anything all day. He had been to consumed in his search to stop for food, but now that he had given himself a momentary respite, his body was paying him back in spades. Scowling, Anon tracked his eyes across the park, looking for a food vendor, any vendor, where he could get a quick bite before setting off again. A somewhat run-down cart sat on the edge of the path a few feet away, a faded red and yellow umbrella tilted against the afternoon sun shielding the purveyor from Anon’s view. That one would do nicely, Anon decided, speed-walking over to it. A quick bite to eat, something he could take while he walked, and then it was back to his search.
Stepping around the umbrella, Anon’s mind went blank, all thoughts of food escaping his mind. Like some sort of memory given life, the cart’s vendor was the same orange woman with the ridiculous hat whom he had talked to before heading to Lucy’s house, all those years ago! Age hadn’t done any favors to the woman or her cart; the painted sign on the side of the cart had faded, been re-painted, and then faded again, the cartoon hot-dog barely legible on the side. The woman herself bore a few more wrinkles, and her overly large chef’s hat sported a few more stains on it than Anon remembered. Her eyes were as quick as ever though, flashing quickly in the sun as she weighed Anon up as a potentially customer.
“Hi there! Looking for some grub? We’ve got chili dogs today, and I don’t mind saying that you could use one, son!” The woman was already dipping a ladle into a tureen on the back of the cart, steam roiling as she opened the metal lid. “You must really be hungry, friend, that mouth’s hanging open so far I could practically drive my cart through it!” Anon forced his mouth closed, mind racing. It was tenuous at best, but any link to his past might be the secret to finding out where Lucy had gone. Plus, that chili did look good.
“Sure, I’ll take one. Listen, you may not remember me, but I used to live here, a few years back. You helped me once, gave me some advice about a –“
“About a girl, right? Yeah, we don’t get a lot of humans here, outside of Skin Row, so I remember you. You were dating that Ptero girl, right?” The vendor continued prepping the chili dog, smiling at Anon’s curt nod. “Shame about what happened between the two of you. It’s a small town, and word spreads pretty quickly, especially when you’re friends with Moe.” The vendor paused, ladle hovering over the surface of a glistening hot-dog. “Moe didn’t catch up with you, did he? He was pretty mad about what happened, what…what you said to her.”
Anon grit his teeth, the vendor’s question stabbing into his heart like a knife. “A-actually, we, uh, worked things out. Have you seen her lately? We were supposed to meet up, but she hasn’t answered her phone.” He knew the lied was weak, and moved to disguise it, holding up his phone in an attempt to defend his tale. The vendor’s eyes narrowed as she spooned the chili along the length of the hot-dog.
“Boy, I’ve seen better lies from drunks so plastered they couldn’t tell I was serving ‘em the mustard bottle. What’s really going on?” The orange woman leaned her palms on the cart, and despite her diminutive frame seemed to loom over Anon, her eyes narrowing.
Anon knew it was no use continuing to lie, but the thought of telling the truth, that his life with Lucy had just… vanished, sent chills down his spine. “Look, have you seen her lately? I really need to find out where she went. It’s important…” Anon could feel the tears welling up once more.
The vendor studied his face for a moment, eyes scanning his face for any semblance of falsehood. Something passed across her face, some sort of…understanding of the situation. Sighing, the woman stood back, wrapping the chili dog up before handing it over.
“I don’t know where she is now, but I’ve seen her at DeVito’s, the pub down past Skin Row? Saw her there a few nights ago, when I was trying to work the night crowd.” The vendor’s hand shot out, snagging Anon’s jacket as he spun to leave. “Hey, listen! That neighborhood is real bad, kid, so be careful. You could get hurt there – hey! What about my money?!”
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Anon couldn’t care about the minor theft he had just committed. He had found where Lucy could be, and he didn’t dare waste another second without her.