Phoebe had signed him up for guitar lessons, and they ended in the same manner as the Wing Chun class. After this second incident, Phoebe verbally observed that Ethan just simply can’t work with authority figures. It caused even him to wonder if that was true. I got along with Mom… I get along with Phoebe… Ultimately, it didn’t matter a great deal. He had his own guitar and could strum the strings whenever he wanted to. Day after day, up until the last day of summer, he played the strings and slowly taught himself a few notes. Lilith often did her exercises and dances while he would randomly play notes. Eventually he got the idea of teaching himself, ‘for real,’ as he put it. Lilith was supportive, and said, in the meantime, to repeat the notes he already learned a thousand times.
The day before the start of fifth grade, Phoebe felt it was time for the twins to meet the rest of the family. Michael and Phoenix had visited multiple times the past several months, but apparently there were others who would be visiting often as well. Many others.
Everyone arrived simultaneously. Outside the dining room windows, which had the best view of the street, Ethan saw Phoebe run out to open the gate, then in came at least three cars. They parked in front of the garage and all opened their doors at once, bowing their heads toward Phoebe. “Kids!” she called, being the first in through the front door.
A pudgy woman with a sour face entered directly behind Phoebe. Then, a fit, tall, dark-skinned woman behind her. After her, an equally as fit, but more pale woman entered, who was immediately followed by a full-bearded man. Already, this was more than his mind could process. It was at that moment he realized how much he hated new faces. Ethan followed them into the living room as Lilith came running downstairs.
“Please don’t leave me alone with them,” he whispered to his sister.
She only smiled.
“Come. People here want to meet you,” said Phoebe. She gestured toward the darker woman. “This is Carrie. She’s–”
“You’re all bosses, aren’t you?” interjected Lilith. “You guys give all the orders?”
Following a solid few seconds of silence, Phoebe reluctantly answered, “Yes.” She pointed behind her. “Dwight over there works for me.” She paused again. “And of course, my daughter and Michael too.”
Then, Phoebe made each introduction brief. “This is Carrie; her territory is everything north of Burnside on the West side.” She pointed at the stern brown-haired woman. “That’s Tabitha. She lives in the downtown, North Portland and Barbur Boulevard area. But, I suppose you guys aren’t familiar with two of those places. Without her, we’d have a lot of problems with the law, but the law would also have a lot of problems with us. And finally, that one over there,” she said, nodding toward the woman who looked similar to Phoebe, except had brown hair, “That’s my sister, Scarlet.”
“What’s Scarlet good for?” asked Lilith.
Ethan smacked her. “That’s rude!”
Scarlet laughed. She didn’t appear to be offended whatsoever.
Behind them, the front door opened again. “Sorry I’m late, everyone. I brought snacks.”
Phoebe smiled, but appeared partially annoyed. “That’s my other sister, Natasha. Phoenix grew up calling her Aunt Nat.”
Phoenix added her own comment about their aunt. “She has nothing to do with the family business. Better for her, if you ask me.”
Ethan could see it from the moment he saw her. Natasha, or Aunt Nat, carried a gentle persona. In her hands, she held a plate of homemade cookies and brought them into the living room. Ethan accepted the treats, but Lilith didn’t care for any. The adults joked away at Phoenix’s comment, and as they did so, Ethan studied them. He had to remind himself of certain details.
Okay, so Scarlet and Aunt Nat are Phoebe’s sisters? …Yeah, that’s right. Aaaaaand, that sergeant-looking guy is who? That one he already forgot. I’ll ask about him later… Oh wait, he works for Phoebe. That’s right. Wait, what about Scarlet? Is she just Phoebe’s sister or a boss? Ethan noticed that Phoebe didn’t point to Scarlet when she pointed out who doesn’t work for her. It confused Ethan.
“Scarlet is her own boss?” he blurted out. He interrupted the adults’ partial conversation.
Phoebe appeared to find it somewhat amusing. “Yes, Ethan. She has her own family.”
“But you’re Phoebe’s family…”
Scarlet replied. “It’s complicated, kid.”
Phoebe looked his way. “When we’re done here, I need to speak to you, okay?”
Ethan slowly turned to look at Lilith, then back at Phoebe. “Wait, you’re talking to both of us?”
“Yes.”
“Oh. You were just looking at me, and…” Lilith shot him a deadly glare. “Never mind.”
“Okay, now come in here and get to know everyone. You’ll be growing up with these ladies.” Phoebe gently extended a hand as she said that.
–––––––
What a mess, thought Ethan after that meeting. Wish Phoebe could have just made us meet them one at a time…
Come evening, Ethan shut himself inside his room again. As his mind began its usual deep-thinking, trying to make sense of the storm of thoughts and memories, he absentmindedly drew things. He began to finally process what he came to learn about everyone, and only because, like Phoebe said, he was going to spend many more years with them.
Phoebe, her sister Scarlet… ‘T’ something… Ta-Tab – Tabitha! Tabitha looks very serious. Not scary, though. Scarlet is the scary one. I guess Scarlet’s my aunt, too. Aunt Scarlet, Aunt Nat… Jeez. At least Mom was an only-child. If Dad had any brothers or sisters, he was gone before I had to meet them. I’m sure they would have made just as good of family as he did…
So, the bosses are Tabitha, Carrie, and also Scarlet. Jeez, if Scarlet’s part of the family but her own boss too, I better not make her angry. Why did Phoebe want me to meet the other bosses anyway? Are we going to see them all the time? Are we gonna be part of her job? I’m only ten…
This was a question he had to ask his sister…
“I hope not,” she answered when he went to her with the same question. “I don’t think we’ll see the other bosses very much. But I keep wondering why Scarlet has her own family if she’s Mom’s sister.”
“Phoebe’s sister,” harshly corrected Ethan. “Yeah, it is kinda weird. Think they’re scary?”
“Which one?”
“…All of them?”
Lilith laughed. “Not really. I think they’re cool. I wanna ask ‘em like a billion questions.” Ethan had no response to that. “Oh, come on, Ethan! This is so cool! We got adopted by people who have their own rules. They do things their own way! Nothing is more cool than that.”
Phoebe came upstairs. As soon as the twins heard her, they abruptly ended their conversing. Ethan had that habit, and it was derived from some inexplicable subconscious fear; why Lilith acted the same way, he didn’t know. When Phoebe stepped into the room, she asked, “Are you guys ready for school tomorrow?”
Ethan changed the subject immediately. “Are we gonna see those people every day? Is that why you made us meet them all at the same time?”
Phoebe sat beside Ethan on Lilith’s bed. “I work a great deal from home. My clients and colleagues will often visit, yes.” Ethan didn’t respond. “Does that bother you?”
“I don’t like strangers.”
She then looked at Lilith, who was rotating back and forth in the desk chair. “Do you wish you had a different family than mine?” Neither answered. “I admit I’m not a conventional parent… When I found you in the hospital, you guys didn’t want a new family. Do you still feel that way?” Both nodded. “Kids…” she reluctantly began again. “At your age, you need to have a family, even if they’re not your blood. You still have each other, don’t you? But unfortunately, that’s not enough. You’re not old enough to be on your own, so, can I ask for just eight years of your life? When you’re eighteen, maybe even sooner, you’re free to leave and never speak to me again.”
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br /> “Why did you adopt us in the first place? Why didn’t you let someone else adopt us?” asked Ethan, looking passively at Phoebe’s legs to avoid looking directly in her eyes.
“To protect you. We… We never found your brother. Also, I feel responsible for what happened to your mother. If I had only known what Bryan was capable of… If I were better at my job, your mother would still be alive. I need to compensate for my mistake.”
“‘Your job?’ What’s your job, exactly?” asked Lilith.
Phoebe explained, “Tabitha, Carrie and I came into power at the same time, but I was the first one people called ‘Matriarch.’ Technically, they coined ‘Mother’ first, and then as our influence grew, it changed to ‘Matriarch.’ Do you know why they called me that first?” The twins shook their heads. “Because I was never just a boss. I took care of people. Even people who didn’t belong to me or owed me money. Your mother was one of them. People who live on my turf, mine or not, I take care of. That’s my job, Lily. Power and responsibility are one and the same. At least, that’s what I believe.” She put a hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “I didn’t take care of your mother… I failed to protect her.”
Ethan could sense the pain in Phoebe’s voice. He leaned his head on her shoulder, the most affection he could muster. “You couldn’t have known. Even we didn’t think Bryan was capable of…”
Phoebe looked at Lilith again; Ethan as well. She was still content in her chair, having nothing to say. The subject matter didn’t seem to affect her. Phoebe said to them, “You’ve been here for three months now. Not terribly long, but long enough that I’ve noticed you’re not warming up to me or my family.”
“Maybe we just need more time,” said Lilith. “Like a year, or two years. It’s nothing personal or anything.”
Ethan was more honest. “Nothing can take Mom’s place.”
“What if I made things easier for you? What if you had other family here with you? Blood family… Real relatives.”
Silence.
Ethan felt his heart race. “But… we don’t have any other family here. Mom moved to Oregon to get away from her family.”
“Yes, I know. But that doesn’t mean your distant family can’t come here… When I started to realize I need to do this for you both, I had Michael learn where your relatives live. They’re scattered all over the country. You have older cousins in Seattle, but they wouldn’t be a good fit. Your dad, though…” This caught Ethan’s attention most. “Your dad’s brother lives in Alaska.”
“We’ve never met our dad,” said Lilith, sounding confused.
“I know. That doesn’t mean he’s impossible to find. But anyway, his brother lives in Alaska, and so does your cousin. Her name’s Kayla. She’s only a couple months older than you two. I’ve started making arrangements for her and her parents to move down here, close to us. Is that something you’d want?”
Ethan turned to his sister. She said nothing, though her face expressed disapproval. He, however, was excited at the prospect of meeting relatives, something he had never done virtually since birth. He had to answer Phoebe with an excited, “Yes.”
KAYLA
MAY 9, 2000
Dear Ethan,
You’re probably out looking for me right now. I just want you to know that I’m okay. Truth is, I don’t want to be found, so please don’t look for me. I’ve given up on everything, and nothing can change my mind. I’m glad you’re my cousin, Ethan. You’re a good friend to me, and always were. So, I thought I’d write this letter to you, because you deserve it for all these years of being someone who made me happy. To understand what I’m doing and why I’m doing it, I’ll just do what I do best, and tell you a story. The story of how everything fell apart for me…
Alaska’s cold was something I never completely adjusted to. Worse than the cold were the long, long hours of daylight that lasted half the year. A midnight sun is a beautiful sight, sure, but I like having darkness every once in a while. It wasn’t until I moved away that I came to appreciate Alaska’s sparse population. Despite so many things I couldn’t stand about my homeland, it’s true when they say absence makes the heart grow fonder, because I longed to go back to my snow-covered, freezing, empty, wildlife-ridden home ever since I left it.
Mom and Dad said they were offered better jobs down in Portland, Oregon in Spring of 1993, when I was ten years old. What kind of work? They didn’t tell me. How did they get the offer? They didn’t tell me that, either. I mean, I was just ten years old, and even I knew my parents weren’t that special. Something was strange about the whole situation. But, what did it matter? Defenseless, clueless me didn’t have any say about it, even if I knew exactly what was really going on.
Mom worked at a salon, Dad hunted animals for a wide variety of local businesses. He was also sometimes a DJ and bartender. Sometimes we had a lot of money, sometimes we had practically nothing. Depended on if Dad cut down on his drinking enough, and whether Mom spent too much shopping on herself that month. Both my parents were reckless, impulsive, and just overall selfish. They weren’t a good match for each other. Hell, I couldn’t imagine either of them could have worked out with anyone. So, yeah, hearing that they got ‘better jobs’ was a bit hard to believe. They had crap jobs, and crap personalities. They only got together because Mom accidentally got pregnant with me, and ever since then, she had to manipulate Dad into helping her take care of me.
Of course, everything made sense when I not only found out that we were moving to be closer to, you know, my cousins, but I found out that those particular cousins were being raised by a mob family. A fucking mob family. Sorry if I sound offensive, Ethan, I’m just stating how shocked I was. Despite that, suddenly my feelings about everything went from confusion to relief, because I then learned that at least my parents weren’t going to work for the mob. They just simply got hooked up with better jobs, because of your mob family. And it was all for the sake of living closer to you.
When we flew into PDX, your mom, Phoebe, was there to greet us, and you twins were right behind her. We’d never met before. I was told beforehand that your names were Ethan and Lilith. I thought ‘Lilith’ was an interesting name. Phoebe mostly just talked to my parents we were left alone to make friends. Awkward, trying to make friends with people you’ve never met. What was my impression of you guys? Well, Ethan, I thought you were cute, I must admit. Then Lily … she kind of acted like your mother. Like an overly-protective mother hen. Seriously, she watched my every move, questioned everything I said to you, and things like that. I wasn’t sure if Lily was overprotective, or if she was just jealous that you might like me more. Our first conversation was the most awkward situation I ever was or ever will be in. After saying our hellos and trying to talk about video games (what else are kids who never met, who are suddenly forced to be friends, supposed to talk about?), we eventually just stood there waiting for the adults to finish conversing.
Our new house was nice. Bigger than the one in Juneau. Two stories, an extra room for games and parties and hanging out, but it was colored this really ugly, faded blue. It was right across the street from your house. Our street was this kind of extended cul-de-sac, like a mini neighborhood within a larger one, which would have been neat if it weren’t for the fact that the only people who lived there were a mob boss and her ‘people.’ I’m not dissing on our neighborhood, either, I’m just describing what I felt about the area. So, for the first few weeks I was there, I didn’t want to leave my room, let alone my house. I only did to go to school or if you invited me to play something with you. Usually we played video games, you might remember, but sometimes it was whatever idea for an activity we came up with to do in the back yard, like catch, or practicing those weird martial arts you did.
You were really into martial arts. It was weird. You didn’t care about sports, you almost never wanted to play video games (compared to most kids our age), nor were you much of a talker. You just really, really wanted to be good at fighting. I never remembered th
e name of that style you practiced. Every couple of months it seemed to have changed, anyway. You were always trying new things. I gotta give it to you, though: you were dedicated back then. You desperately wanted to be the best.
Of course, I didn’t have any friends at school. I’m not a people person. You were the only person I even remotely wanted to spend time with, so eventually, I forced myself to go along with your martial arts training. Well, your self-training.
Then, in late August of 1993, my parents told me that I’ll be going to H.B. Lee middle school with you guys. When September rolled around, I noticed how Lily quickly became one of the popular sixth-graders. From the looks of it, she dragged you into her social circle, but you didn’t really want to have friends. You were quite the antisocial one as well. After a while, I felt so bad for you, being dragged into these awkward social circles, that I invited you to hang out with me, since we were related and neither of us had friends. Something strange happened the first time you sat next to me at lunch: you struck up a conversation…
If I remember correctly, you asked me about my … music? Yeah, that’s what it was. I remember now. You sat across the table from me and asked what I was writing. That was shocking, considering that I never told you I love music. I never told anyone, except my parents. Apparently, you had caught me playing music in my head during homeroom. You said you recognized that spaced-out face I was making. How did you recognize that face? Well, even more shockingly, it turned out that you loved music, too. You didn’t write it, though, just played it. Music wasn’t your thing, not like martial arts. I remember that first day I learned about your love for music, you told me you play guitar and piano, because you ‘love the way fingers can make sounds that sound so beautiful.’
Talented and weird… You had just made himself a best friend!
After that, we started hanging out all the time, whether I went over to your house, or you came over to mine. Sometimes, one of us snuck out of the house and went to the other’s. I remember we didn’t do that for long, because we couldn’t play music when everyone else was asleep. Sure, you still wanted to practice martial arts stuff, but for the most part, we just sat around playing music. I would write something, and you’d try to add your own little spin to it. Like remixing my songs as I was writing them. You had a lot of interesting ideas for lyrics. And when I say ‘interesting,’ I partly mean ‘disturbing.’ Did you notice your ideas kept revolving around death? Not only death in general, like heaven and the afterlife and whatnot, but specifically about dying. You once had this idea about a little boy who dreamed about being a famous painter, but then got choked to death by a stranger who also killed his whole family. Another time, you had lyrics for a story about someone who was chained up in a dungeon and this giant swinging blade lowered one inch every hour, very slowly cutting the prisoner in half. Emotional music is my favorite, but damn.
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