Chances

Chapter 8: An Unexpected Guest

The next morning, I woke up from my slumber and brushed the creases of my blue shirt. My stomach was still sore from laughing so hard.

The Old Man in the Sea rested peacefully on the top of my desk. Wiping away my tired eyes, I allowed them to adjust the bedroom.

It is a ordinary blue bedroom with a huge bookshelf, a writing desk, two drawers, a massive closet, and posters of my favorite detectives: Sherlock Holmes, Nancy Drew, and the Hardy Boys.

Stretching my arms, I quickly made my bed and walked into the bathroom.

Its walls had a bluish gray color, which brightens the room whenever I switched on the lights. It included a spacious shower, a clean bathroom mirror, toilet, and a granite sink.

My toothpaste and red toothbrush sat idly on top of the sink, almost as if they were expecting me to use them.

As I turn the water on, I heard Mom calling me to come downstairs for breakfast.

"Okay!" I yelled. "I just need to brush my teeth!"

Quickly, I spread toothpaste across the bristles of the brush and scrubbed my teeth until I taste metal on my mouth. 

After spitting out the minty slime, I switched off the sink and marched downstairs. 

Mom stood over the stove, mixing oatmeal in a pot with a wooden spoon. She wore a gray t-shirt and long blue pants. Her dark hair came in  wavy curls, covering the crease on her forehead.

"Hi Mom," I greeted, embracing her immediately.   She smiled then patted my head.

"Morning, Cleo." Mom greeted back.

"Today, I am making your favorite breakfast. Do you want blueberries on your oatmeal or bananas?"

"Blueberries," I answered.

She reduced the heat of the stove while I took the quart of blueberries in the fridge.

Patiently, Mom removed the pot out of the fire and filled my bowl with oatmeal.

"Breakfast already?" a familar voice asked.

I looked to see Dad in his sweaty pajamas, walking downstairs.

"Did you have a good sleep?" I asked.

He nodded very sluggish and kissed my cheek.

"Morning, Cleopatra." Dad sighed.

"Buenos dias, familia." Uncle Seth yawned. He rubbed his tired brown eyes as he heads downstairs.

"Hi, Uncle Seth!" I exclaimed, rushing over to him.

Eagerly, he lifted me effortlessly on the ground and spun me around.

"What is up, my little niece?" he said, smooching my cheek.

"The ceiling," I responded gleefully.

After setting me down, Uncle Seth greeted Mom and Dad with love and kisses.

"Hey Seth," Mom beamed as she handed him the bowl of oatmeal.

"Your breakfast is ready."

I sprinkled the berries on top of the mound of grains and took my bowl over to the table.

I took the spoon that was sitting on top of the napkin and finished my oatmeal before Mom and Dad could sit down.

Soon afterwards, I cleaned my bowl and set it in on top of the dish rack.

Mom noticed me hurrying back upstairs then called me over to the dining table.

"Yes, Mom?" I asked.

She gave me a worried look and asked me if I was going somewhere.

"I'm going to play in the backyard." I say.

"Are you sure it's a good idea, honey?" Mom asked worriedly.

"You haven't even taken the time to digest your breakfast."

Oh. I thought embarrassed. She does have a point.

"Let her go outside, Cole." Dad insisted. "She's been cooped up in her room for weeks."

Uncle Seth quickly swallowed his grayish brown mush, but nodded in agreement.

"She's a kid." he shrugged. "Let kids be kids."

Mom let out an annoyed sigh then gave me permission to play in the yard.

"Please don't run so fast," she pleaded. "You just ate a bowl of oatmeal."

"Yes, Mom." I said.

I ascended back upstairs so I can change into my green shirt, jeans, and sneakers. I later hurried downstairs so I could kiss Mom on the cheek.

"Thanks Mom." I beamed.

She smiled as she smoothed my hair and kissed my forehead.

"Stay close," Mom warned. "We'll watch you from here."

Mom kissed my cheek again and watched me open the dark tinted glass door then shut it behind me.

The minute I left the house, I felt the cool wind hitting my face.

It was then I noticed a trail of black ants heading to a massive anthill. Curious, I carefully hopped over the line of ants and inspected them.

"Interesting, aren't they?" a voice asked.

Hesitantly, I looked up from the ants and saw a man, peering down at me.

It had olive dark skin, short black hair, and brown eyes.

His face is cleanly shaven, almost handsome. His clothing consists of a black suit, tie, and clean shoes.

But there was something strange about this guy, and I didn't trust him.

"My name is Oliver," the guy introduced. "You must be Cleo, right?"

Suddenly, my parents came bursting out of the backyard, holding their guns.

"Cleo, get behind your mother!" Dad yelled.

Obediently, I rushed over to Mom, who was gripping the handle of her Chiappa Rhino.

Oliver slowly raised his hands very carefully as if he was shielding himself.

"I just came here to talk," he said calmly. "I see that your daughter-"

"Leave our daughter out of this," Mom snapped.

"What do you want?" Dad rasped calmly.

Oliver reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded document file.

"It's for Cole," he says.

Mom looked stunned while Dad remained his gun on Oliver.

"If this is some type of trap-" Dad began.

"It isn't a trap," Mom interrupted. "If it was, Oliver would have a loaded gun his pocket."

I stared at my parents in confusion.

"Mom, who is this guy?" I asked.

Does he working for the FBI? I wondered.

"Cleo," she says calmly. "Stay with your father."

Mom lowered her revolver, kissed Dad on the cheek, and walked over to Oliver.

I watched as she snatches the file out of Oliver's hands then read through it carefully.

As soon as she was finished reading, Mom handed the file back to Oliver and walked back to us.