“The eggs?”
We both turn to look at the stove. Black smoke pours from the pan. Aunt Bethany groans and runs over. I take the opportunity to run the other way.
I find Emily sitting up in her bed highlighting a section of her math book. This must have been the one she was reading under the covers.
She grins and points out the window. “It’s sunny now! I was afraid your party was going to get rained out.”
Too bad my alarm clock doesn’t have the magical ability to make
real
rain. “You guys don’t have to throw a party for me, seriously.”
“It’ll be fun,” she insists. “You’ll get to meet my friends, and I invited Rory and some of her friends, too.”
I can’t figure her out. Yesterday she didn’t want to hang out with me, now today she wants me to meet her friends.
“Great,” I say without any actual enthusiasm. She turns back to her book, and I grab clothes and shampoo from my suitcase. My Jake Harrison poster is still folded exactly like I had it, so that’s good. The hatbox looks undisturbed, too, which means Aunt Bethany didn’t find my letters and the bag of broken glass. I’m not sure which would be harder to explain. I wedge the suitcase under my bed between a stuffed lizard and a plastic pumpkin filled with Halloween candy wrappers.
Halloween = Eight Months Ago.
The bathroom window looks out onto the backyard, where Bar Mitzvah Boy is still chanting. He never told me his name. I guess I didn’t tell him mine, either. The echo from the holemakes his voice sound deeper and richer than it did in person. More confident, too. I stand and listen for a few minutes until I begin to feel like I’m eavesdropping on a private moment, which is silly of course since he’s singing outside for anyone to hear.
The air vent under the window pumps the odor of bacon into the room, and it smells like home. Not
my
home, because Mom almost never cooks bacon, but someone else’s home that I’m not a part of. I turn on the shower, eager to drown out the strangeness of everything. The sound of the pounding water does drown out the boy’s voice, but the steam only heightens the bacon smell.
I probably should have called my parents before their flight left. Even though Aunt Bethany told them I arrived safely, they’re probably worried that they haven’t heard from me directly. Although if they were so worried about me, they wouldn’t have sent me here. Now they’ll just have to wait till they get their weekly phone access.
By the time I’m done showering and dressing and drying my hair, the chanting has stopped. In its place is the hustle and bustle of party preparation. I peek out the bathroom window. Balloons have been tied around the trunks of various trees, adding color to the yard. Aunt Bethany, in a pink flowery dress, directs Uncle Roger to place a tray of burgers on the patio table.
I back away from the window and return to the bedroom. Emily has moved to her desk and is scribbling an equation in her notebook. Once again I’m afraid to disturb her. She erases,scribbles again, chews on her pencil, then sees me at the door. “Hi, cuz,” she says, closing her books.
“Don’t stop whatever you’re doing because of me.”
She makes a face. “Mom only lets me work on my math theorem for an hour a day. Time’s up.”
I wonder if Aunt Bethany knows that Emily works in the middle of the night, too. “Hey, I just saw your dad carrying out plates of food. I thought your mom only made eggs.”
“She does,” Emily replies, plucking a skirt and top from various parts of the floor. “All the food is catered from a restaurant in town.”
“But I saw that big grill outside?”
“That’s only for decoration. Dad took out all the moveable parts a long time ago. I’ll have to show you his lab later. You should see what he’s able to make out of a rubber band and a bar of soap.”
I don’t tell her I already had a middle-of-the-night peek. I leave her to dress and go back across the
We both turn to look at the stove. Black smoke pours from the pan. Aunt Bethany groans and runs over. I take the opportunity to run the other way.
I find Emily sitting up in her bed highlighting a section of her math book. This must have been the one she was reading under the covers.
She grins and points out the window. “It’s sunny now! I was afraid your party was going to get rained out.”
Too bad my alarm clock doesn’t have the magical ability to make
real
rain. “You guys don’t have to throw a party for me, seriously.”
“It’ll be fun,” she insists. “You’ll get to meet my friends, and I invited Rory and some of her friends, too.”
I can’t figure her out. Yesterday she didn’t want to hang out with me, now today she wants me to meet her friends.
“Great,” I say without any actual enthusiasm. She turns back to her book, and I grab clothes and shampoo from my suitcase. My Jake Harrison poster is still folded exactly like I had it, so that’s good. The hatbox looks undisturbed, too, which means Aunt Bethany didn’t find my letters and the bag of broken glass. I’m not sure which would be harder to explain. I wedge the suitcase under my bed between a stuffed lizard and a plastic pumpkin filled with Halloween candy wrappers.
Halloween = Eight Months Ago.
The bathroom window looks out onto the backyard, where Bar Mitzvah Boy is still chanting. He never told me his name. I guess I didn’t tell him mine, either. The echo from the holemakes his voice sound deeper and richer than it did in person. More confident, too. I stand and listen for a few minutes until I begin to feel like I’m eavesdropping on a private moment, which is silly of course since he’s singing outside for anyone to hear.
The air vent under the window pumps the odor of bacon into the room, and it smells like home. Not
my
home, because Mom almost never cooks bacon, but someone else’s home that I’m not a part of. I turn on the shower, eager to drown out the strangeness of everything. The sound of the pounding water does drown out the boy’s voice, but the steam only heightens the bacon smell.
I probably should have called my parents before their flight left. Even though Aunt Bethany told them I arrived safely, they’re probably worried that they haven’t heard from me directly. Although if they were so worried about me, they wouldn’t have sent me here. Now they’ll just have to wait till they get their weekly phone access.
By the time I’m done showering and dressing and drying my hair, the chanting has stopped. In its place is the hustle and bustle of party preparation. I peek out the bathroom window. Balloons have been tied around the trunks of various trees, adding color to the yard. Aunt Bethany, in a pink flowery dress, directs Uncle Roger to place a tray of burgers on the patio table.
I back away from the window and return to the bedroom. Emily has moved to her desk and is scribbling an equation in her notebook. Once again I’m afraid to disturb her. She erases,scribbles again, chews on her pencil, then sees me at the door. “Hi, cuz,” she says, closing her books.
“Don’t stop whatever you’re doing because of me.”
She makes a face. “Mom only lets me work on my math theorem for an hour a day. Time’s up.”
I wonder if Aunt Bethany knows that Emily works in the middle of the night, too. “Hey, I just saw your dad carrying out plates of food. I thought your mom only made eggs.”
“She does,” Emily replies, plucking a skirt and top from various parts of the floor. “All the food is catered from a restaurant in town.”
“But I saw that big grill outside?”
“That’s only for decoration. Dad took out all the moveable parts a long time ago. I’ll have to show you his lab later. You should see what he’s able to make out of a rubber band and a bar of soap.”
I don’t tell her I already had a middle-of-the-night peek. I leave her to dress and go back across the
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