~Chapter 3~
Wednesday
THE
VOICE WAS MUSICAL AND sounded like chimes tingling gently in the wind. “Rose,
Rose! Over here!” It called.
I whipped around. No one was there. I looked left and
right. No one. I looked down at the concrete and up to
the sky. No one.
“Ew, get away!” Michelle shouted,
waving her head wildly at a flying bug. “Annoying bug,” Michelle murmured. We
walked the rest of the way. By the time I got home, I was quite convinced I
just made the voice up. After all, it didn’t sound like Michelle or Ricky heard
it either.
I closed the door quietly behind me and walked to the
kitchen. On the island, there stood a plate full of apple wedges. Kara was
standing behind them scribbling something down on a notepad.
“Hey, Michelle, Ricky and Rose!”
Kara said enthusiastically, waving her free arm. She put the notepad and pen
down and looked up at us.
“Kara!” Michelle replied, running to her. Michelle and Kara
have also been very close to each other. Actually, Michelle has been very close
to everyone. She wrapped her petite arms around Kara’s waist and hugged
her tightly.
“How was your first day of school?” Kara asked kindly,
pushing the plate closer to us.
Michelle immediately let go one of her arms and snatched an
apple. “It was fantastic! Wasn’t it, Ricky?” She said through a mouthful of
apples.
Ricky just nodded and shoved an apple slice into his mouth.
“How was your’s, Rose?”
I
froze with my hand wrapped around an apple, inches from my mouth. I swallowed
and put the apple down. How was I supposed to answer? Tell the truth? Or lie? Telling
the truth would obviously be better—Kara could help me. But I didn’t want to
say it in front of Michelle and Ricky. Kara stared at me, her elegant face
screwed up in a confused expression.
“Um,
it was…okay.” This wasn’t exactly a lie, and it was partly true. My day wasn’t that
bad. I saw Kara’s eyes flicker with confusion before she understood. She
nodded once and I knew she would give me some advice when we had time.
I
didn’t hear the voice anymore the rest of the day and I was sure I made it up. I
walked downstairs to Kara’s room after I put a book cover over each textbook.
She told me not to worry and that first days were always the worst. She also
advised me to not be self-conscious and be myself. I thanked her and walked
upstairs to write a first draft for my essay.
Mrs.
Mann told us we could do it on anything and I chose the Civil War. To me, that
was the only interesting thing I ever learned in history. I was researching the
end of the war when I heard the garage door open. There was a loud bang that
followed and I knew my mom was home.
She checked on Michelle and Ricky’s homework first, to make
sure they knew what they were doing. She was clanging around in the kitchen
when I walked downstairs.
“Hey, Rose. How was school?” She asked as she stirred some
soup. She put the spoon down and wiped her hands on the white apron she was
wearing and walked over by me.
I didn’t reply to her question and just asked, “Can I help
you with anything?”
“Yes, you can. But first, I want to know how school went.”
This was how my mom was. If I didn’t tell her about something, she would just
keep asking me about it until I answered.
“It
was okay.” There was nothing else to say.
“Just okay?”
She seemed surprised by my answer. Maybe she expected school to go better for
me, although it never did, not even when we lived in
“Just okay.”
I answered. “So, what can I help you with?” I asked in a lighter tone.
“Um,
well…the vegetables need to be cut and the meat needs to be seasoned. You sure
you’re okay?” She eyed me anxiously and I nodded quickly.
“You
don’t look so well to me.” I assured her it was nothing and she said, “Okay,
well wash your hands and get started. Dad will be home soon.”
I
washed my hands thoroughly and then started on the veggies. I wasn’t really
concentrating on cutting, I was mostly just letting my thoughts float around
and think about random things. Most of these things I thought about had
something to do with school. Like bullies—and how I hadn’t bumped into any
yet—, buses—and that horrible smell; I shivered at the thought—history, math,
stuff like that.
I
was thinking quite absent-mindedly too, so I didn’t realize I wasn’t moving my hand
until I felt a stinging in my left index finger. I held it up to the light to
examine the cut. It wasn’t very deep or long, it just hurt a lot, like a
paper cut.
Mom
almost dropped her knife when I walked past her to get a Band-Aid.
Luckily, it didn’t fly out of her hand. I cleaned it up and stuck a Care Bears
Band-Aid on it. Unfortunately, Michelle only used Care Bears Band-Aids and mom
always thinks it’s unnecessary to buy more than one pack at a time.
My
mom, Nancy, stopped letting me help her so I just started playing piano. I was
the only one who played piano. David played guitar and Kara plays the flute. I
also swim every day, but this week, my swim team was taking a break. I just
started a Mozart Sonatina when the garage door opened
again.
“It’s
dad, it’s dad!” Michelle shouted, running to the
garage door. One of the things I loved about Michelle was that if you
were gone even for half-an-hour, she would still welcome you back like you’ve
been gone for half a day.
“Michelle-bear!” My dad’s gruff voice boomed through the house as he bent down to pick
her up. “Michelle-bear” is Michelle’s favorite nickname and only my dad, Henry
Walkman, gets to use it. “How was your first day of school, sweet pea?” He
asked in a gushy voice. I continued playing, so it wouldn’t sound like I was
eavesdropping.
“It
was great, daddy! Ricky and I got to sit next to each other!”
“Oh, really?
Well, make sure Mr. Ricky doesn’t talk too much.”
“He
didn’t, daddy.” She smiled and my dad put her down.
“Ricky
Mickey!” My dad always made up nicknames for everyone—everyone that is, except
for me. He called me Rosalie. My mom said it was because he picked the name for
me and liked the name Rosalie, not Rose. “How was your day?” He asked,
bending down so his face was level with Ricky’s.
“Horrible.”
Typical Ricky. Even though it was only one tiny
thing, it mattered a huge amount to him.
My
dad frowned. “Why horrible?”
“They
didn’t let me into chess club.” Ricky crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“It’s not fair!”
“It’s okay, Rick, we can make our own chess club. You can be
president. Why don’t we start tomorrow evening? Get everything set up, okay?”
“Sure,
I’ll do it right after dinner!”
“Wait!”
I shouted. “Do I have to join too?”
“Of
course you do, Rosalie.” My dad answered.
“But
I suck at chess! I suck.” I put a huge emphasis on “suck”.
“But
Ricky here will teach you how to not suck. Right, Rick?”
Ricky
nodded his head excitedly. “We can start right after school tomorrow!”
“After
homework,” My dad corrected.
“After homework.” Ricky agreed.
Dad
stood up then, and walked over to me.
“Well,
enough about chess. How was your day Rosalie?” He asked me.
“It
was okay.” The same reply I gave to everyone.
“Oh,”
was all he could say. He shrugged and walked to the kitchen to say hi to mom
and Kara. I went back to the piano and started on that Mozart piece.
Dinner
was finished a couple minutes after that, and I didn’t talk much. I just
chewed, swallowed, and listened. Simple enough. It was
working perfectly well until mom asked for details on my day. I simply shrugged
and told her how the bus ride was fast—I left out the bumpy part—and how my
teachers just lectured about nonsense—to me. Mom didn’t ask about my day
anymore and I was happy about that.
After
dinner, I helped wash the dishes before I started on Ricky’s cookies. I didn’t
realize the batter made fifteen cookies, so I placed them too close to each
other and most of them stuck together to become one big cookie. Ricky didn’t
seem so upset about it, though.
While
he was eating, I went upstairs to revise my essay. I had a lot of work to do. I
even spelled Abraham Lincoln’s name wrong once! I finished revising and before
I knew it, it was bedtime.