The Marx Brothers

Chapter Thirteen - 'Race'

"What's up?" I shovelled cereal into my mouth, muffled

"Why do you sound so happy?"

"Am I not allowed to be happy?" I shot

"Yes, but, you sound different"

"Grace called me this morning" I told her

"And?"

"She's coming home tomorrow afternoon for a few days"

"That's awesome, I'll have to come over and see her when she gets back"

"You will indeed" I smiled

Surprisingly, the two had a good relationship. At first, Gracelin hadn't liked Penny, and I could understand why, she after all is the complete opposite of me, in all the ways that would worry a person. But after a few months, forcing them to socialize and get to know each other, they did.

"So what are you doing today then?" Penny began

I knew where this was going.

"Not sure, depends on what you have planned for me" I told her

She gave a snort "Well, Brad's brother is racing today, did you want to come with us, I haven't met him yet, so I need all the support I can get. I just hope he likes me"

What was not to like about her? I couldn't think of a single reason.

"Sure Penny. What time?"

"Well, its 11 now, Brad is picking me up at 11:30, say... 12?"

"Sounds good"

"Okay, well get ready and I'll see you then" She hung up

For the next hour, I took my time, tidying up the house, cleaning whatever was left out of place before tomorrow afternoon would come. I had already showered, dressed and eaten, so passing the time, was difficult without overthinking.

Moving towards the front of the house, I pulled the curtains open, allowing in a generous amount of natural light. Most of the time, they were closed, along with the windows. I had no reason to open them, I didn't trust that I would remember to close them again when I left the house or fell asleep for the night.

Pushing back the clip on the glass window, it unlocked and slid it open, a fresh breeze instantly rushing inwards causing me to shiver. With twenty minutes left, I pulled my English book open sitting on the coffee table, perching myself on the couch sitting across but below the open window.

Reading over my notes, the words became just that, words. After ten minutes of focus, it was overthrown, thanks to the sound of a revving engine across the street. Closing my eyes, forcing myself to keep my eyes away, it became a mission in itself.

Concentrating as best I could, I read over another sentence, hopeful it would stop, or I would stop

'Our wills and fates do so contrary run

That our devices still are overthrown;

Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own'

Over, and over, I read the same phrase. But it was futile.

Angry, I pushed myself up, the sound across the street growing louder, more purposeful.

I slammed my book down on the coffee table, turning to peer out the window, careful.

As expected, it was the Marx house creating the noise, in particular, Phoenix.

He stood out the front, the bonnet of his car propped open, his head in the engine bay. I narrowed my gaze, my nose almost against the fly-screen.