As I Am

Chapter Four

Four

            My plan to blare music as an attempt to not appear depressed fails. The sun is just starting to move from its high position in the sky when Mom forces me to come downstairs for dinner. I leave the tape deck on at her request and trudge down the stairs, feeling incredibly lazy from lying around half of the day.

            I pick through my ham and push my peas around my plate, feeling my parent’s eyes on me at the small, uncomfortably circular kitchen table. Even for only three people, it’s cramped.

            “So what do you think?” Mom asks after ten minutes of silence; I’ve been watching the old clock on the wall tick by the entire time. “About The Ink Spots, I mean.”

            I lift a spoonful of peas up, decide against it and drop them one by one onto my plate. Nobody stops their staring as each green ball drops.

            “They’re cool,” I mumble, looking at my piece of ham.

            “Do you want to go for a walk after dinner?” Dad asks both my mother and I. “I wouldn’t mind meeting the neighbours. I haven’t had much of a chance to talk to them since we arrived.”

            My mother smiles as she wipes the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “I’d love to, honey, but I have to do the dishes and then write. I’ve had a sudden change in plot on my latest novel and I can’t wait to write about it!”

            Dad smiles at her. “That’s great!” He turns to me next, that same smile growing slightly. “How about you, Bam?”

            I open my mouth to tell him I’m fine when Mom shoots me a look that I know better than to disobey. I clearly have no choice in the matter.

            “Sure.”

            A short while later my father and I step into the fading day, basking in the leftover warmth. My radio is still blaring from upstairs, casting out small, grassy front yard in crackling sound.

            “Let’s go this way,” Dad says, opting to take the curve to the right. I nod, still not wanting to go anywhere near the crazy yard man. It doesn’t take long for Dad to spot a man watering his garden with a hose, looking cheerful despite the boring task. “I’m just going to go introduce myself. You keep walking, I’ll catch up.”

            He grabs my shoulder briefly and smiles before taking off towards the man. Alone, I keep walking a slow pace and look over my camera around my neck, trying to distract myself from having to do something I didn’t want to do in the first place by myself.

            When I reach the first intersection on the road I stop at the stop sign, turn around, and stare at my father. He looks unbelievably happy, talking to the man who looks equally as joyful talking to my father.

            I wait a few minutes, drawing patterns with the tip of my Converse in the sand on the pavement. When I’ve made a heart, scratched it out, and redrew it broken, I look up. My father is heading towards the front door of the house with the man. He turns towards me, looking for where I am. When he spots me, he grins and mouths something I can’t interpret. When he sees my blank space, he waves his hand. He wants me to keep walking.