Handstands Down The Hallway

Chapter 1, Stettlar Meets Kreea

I live in a small town called Stettlar, don't know if you could really call it a town, more like a street that has two little streets bracnhing off. But it is a town by the post office's declaration. On the main street, Current Road, there are twelve houses and a couple of stores. Current road really is more a highway but people pretty much never drive on it, unless they're coming here. Branching off of Current, to the left, is Mason Lane. Mason Lane consists of four big houses, all on one side, and then a dead end. Mason is wear the "better off" people live, but those four families call it "Maison," ya know... like the French word for house. I live on Jumper Drive, the street on the right side of Current Road. Jumper Drive has eight houses spread equally on the sides. I live in the sixth house, but technically the address number is 1178. I live in the house with my seven-year-old sister, Martha, and my parents, Joe and Alice Kennedy.

Across from our house is the biggest house on Jumper Drive, and a week ago the "FOR SALE" sign had a "SOLD" sticker on it. The next day the sign was gone, and two moving trucks were parked outside. It was only halfway through Summer and this was our third big excitement! Hey, that's a lot for Stettlar. The family was completely moved in now, and we still hadn't met them. But my friend Frank had, and after his review I wasn't looking forward to having them over for dinner. Frank said there were three kids, twin eight-year-olds and a girl who was 16 like us. 

"The younger girl is quiet and nerdy, her twin is loud and rambonctious and I think the oldest is like, I dunno. Bet you something isn't right upstairs." I remember Frank saying.

Ufortunately, he was so bored he didn't bother finding out their names. At five-thirty there was a knock at the door, my dad walked over to greet them, I just sat on the stairs. From there I could see the door but they couldn't see me. 

"Hi, my name is Mark. And this is my wife Sylvia, and my three kids Gavin, Eliza, and Karen." Said Mark, shaking my dad's hand.

"But everyone calls me Kreea." Karen added in.

By this point my mom and Martha were also at the door shaking hands, introducing names, and offering to carry the stuff they brought. I hadn't come down yet, I was too wierded out that they named their first daughter Kreea. What kind of a name was Kreea? What sort of cruel friend would nickname her Kreea? I looked at the people talking to my family. Mark looked like he could be in his fifties, was in an outfit you'd expect a professer at a university to wear and even had the glasses and salt and pepper hair to match. His wife, Sylvia looked relatively younger. She looked about 30 and had short dark brown hair, she was dressed in jeans and a pink polo and had the girl, Eliza wrapped around her leg. Eliza and her twin, Gavin, shared the same dark hair as their mother but Eliza's was in two braids halfway down her back. Eliza was dressed in a purple sundress and Gavin was in khaki shorts and a blue tee. Karen was in a purple sundress that matched her sisters but it stopped there. Unlike her mom and siblings, who had deep tans, her skin was quite fair. And unlike them all she had straight blond hair down to her waist. Their eyes were dark, hers were green. I wondered if maybe she had a different mother, but if she did why would they move so far away?

I finally left my spot to go meet the weird people who were my neighbors.

"Ah, and here is my son Johnathan. He is the same age as you, Kreea." My dad said putting his arm around my shoulder, "John, supper won't be ready for another half-hour at least. Would you mind showing Kreea around town?" Yes, I would. And by the way... don't call her Kreea! Hasn't she been through enough by just getting stuck with such a name.

"No I wouldn't." I said instantly regretting it. Karen smiled and followed me out the door. This was going to be a long night.

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As We walked on the side of the road not much talking occurd. I mean, I was a good host, pointed out who lives where and which stores sold what. But other than that there wasn't much to say. Everything I wanted to ask sounded rude. Why do you look different? Why are you wearing the same clothes as an eight-year-old? Why do you let people call you Kreea? I finally settled on a simple conversation starter. 

"So, Karen, why'd you move here?" 

"Please, call me Kreea," She started. What? you like that name? "And we were deciding which place to move and I chose here."

"You got to pick where to live?" I asked.

"Well, my parents had to agree with me but I sort of picked, yeah."

"But wh-" I began when she asked about a store we were passing. I never got to ask her, she kept the conversation going. By the time I thought I had finally set up the conversation so I could ask "why did you get to pick the house?" we were at my door. When we entered the table was set and the three kids were playing tag, in the house! This wasn't normally allowed. What was going on?

"Hey mom," I said walking into the kitchen. "Supper ready?"

My mom glared at me for interupting her conversation. "Nearly,' Was her answer. I walked out of the kitchen but stopped and listened around the corner when I heard my name.

"Do you want me to tell Johnathan?" I heard my mthers voice asking.

"No, or at least not yet. I will talk to Kreea about who she does and doesn't want to know but part of the reason we moved was because so many people knew. And you know how some people can act when they feel bad? It's a little down-putting." Replied the voice of Sylvia.

I heard my mom humm in agreement and then the oven beeped indicating I should get out of there before they saw me.

"Everyone to the table!" My dad yelled

As usual us in the family sat at our normal spots, dad at one and mom on the other. Martha closest to dad, I closest to mom. And our guests filed into the spots in between us all. I'm glad mom made a little to much, I am famished. Maybe it's because while I'm eating food my questions are eating at me. Why "Kreea"? What's wrong with her? Why does she look different than her family? What is with her picking her house? What made them move? I guess if I continued to hang with her I'd figure it out.