by Tess Oliver
A deep, covered porch wrapped around the front and left side of the house. Only small patches of white paint remained on the porch railing. Two bay windows jutted from the front of the house, each divided into dozens of tiny panes crusted in salty looking dirt.
“I’ll just hook up a hose and spray those windows with water,” Mom said.
I put my hand on her shoulder. “Don’t spray too hard. You might take down a wall.”
Mom was not someone I could stay mad at for long. Besides, the way she gripped the steering wheel on the drive here coupled with the marble white color on her face right now, showed she was stressing about this move thing more than she’d let on.
Tyler and Raymond ran to the front steps. Mom and the dogs were close at their heels.
Mom called to me over her shoulder. “Leave the doors open on the van so the breeze can flow through it. That way the cats won’t overheat. We’ll lock them in the bathroom while the movers are here.” She turned back to the house. “Watch where you step, boys, that porch may have some weak spots.”
Suddenly, there was a hilarious image in my head-- the round, orange moving man falling through the front porch with our coffee table in his hands. I took a deep breath and willed myself toward the steps. My gaze lifted to one of the upstairs windows. Apparently, one of the twins had already flown up to the top story because through the dusty haze I saw someone staring down at me. I waved but the figure disappeared. My brothers moved like ping-pong balls, speedy and erratic.
I took one last glance back toward the outside world. It felt like I was leaving one dimension and entering a whole new one where the only familiar things were two bratty brothers, a newly divorced mom, and her herd of overfed pets.
“Sweet!” Tyler yelled as he and Raymond raced from room to room.
Sweet was definitely not the word I would have used.
Stained yellow wallpaper that appeared at one time to be white with blue paisley designs greeted us in the narrow entryway. As I walked round the corner into a big empty room, I found myself tangled up in a massive cobweb. Like everything else it was thick with dust.
“Yuck! We won’t have to do too much to get this place ready for Halloween.” I flailed my hands and arms in a wild attempt to rid myself of the sticky strands.
“Yeah, Mom, can we leave the cobwebs at least until then?” Tyler asked.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Tyler. We’ll use fake cotton spider webs like every good haunted house,” Mom said.
The main room had a window seat in front of the bay window. Directly across from it was a fireplace with a carved wooden mantle. I knelt on the window seat and rubbed some of the grime from the window as I squinted outside. A row of uneven posts provided a skeletal border between long weedy grass and white sand. Ivory froth topped the small waves, and their seemed to be, what I considered, a dangerous amount of birds flying over the beach. I didn’t mind birds but in bulk form they were intimidating.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I was wondering if anyone was going to contact me again or if they had already written me off as someone they used to know.
It was a text message from Christy. “How bad is it?”
Christy always reveled in other people’s misery so I didn’t feel like indulging her.
“I’ll live.” I wrote back.
“The kitchen is big but extremely dirty,” Mom called from the doorway. The whole house vibrated as the moving van maneuvered along the gravel path that bordered the house. “I guess our stuff is here.” She gave us a look that seemed to say--oh shit, this is really happening. “Zilly, go out to the car and carry in the cat boxes. Put them upstairs in the bathroom.”
“Which bathroom?” I asked as I headed to the front door.
“There’s only one bathroom. It’s at the top of the stairs.”
I froze in my tracks. Perhaps I had misheard her, after all, the sound of the truck engine was mingling with the roar of the ocean. “That’s hysterical,” I giggled. “I could have sworn I heard you say there is only one bathroom.”
“Sorry, Brazil. I know you were used to having your own bathroom at home. But there is only one bathroom in this house, so we’ll be sharing it.” Tyler and Raymond were busily wrapping their arms in cobwebs like they were making cotton candy and their hands were the paper cones.
“Mom, you can’t be serious. Are you sure there isn’t an outhouse in the yard for these guys? Or maybe they could use the ocean,” I suggested. “Their pee never actually reaches the toilet bowl anyway.”
“It will be fine, Brazil. Besides it’s a very spacious bathroom, complete with a claw foot tub.”
“Oh my freakin’ god,” I groaned as I shambled out to the car. I typed Christy a text message, “kill me now”. That one would probably make her day, which was fine. At least somebody would be having a good one.
The sketchy looking staircase was narrow and steep. I stared up at the landing, a cat box in each hand. Lex, the feline paperweight, and my injured toe made the climb a difficult feat.
There was a small window at the top of the stairs where faint sunlight seeped in; otherwise it was dark and gloomy. I put down the cat boxes and rose up on my good toes to peer out the window. The only thing I could see in the filthy pane was my own reflection. That’s when I noticed the figure standing behind me. I spun around but no one was there. “Tyler!”
“What?” Tyler’s voice streamed up the stairwell. He was holding a moving box.
“Where’s Raymond?” I asked frantically.
“Outside at the moving truck.”
Wonderful, we’d moved into a dusty, possessed house complete with demons. Either that or I was going completely nuts.
I pushed the bathroom door open with my elbow. A big, ugly white tub with animal feet sat in the center of the room like a museum display. This must have been the claw foot tub my mom thought was so special. I personally saw it as a step down from the sunken, blue tile Jacuzzi tub she’d had at home.
Besides the tub, everything else in the house seemed to be made of wood. But it no longer had that nice freshly cut tree smell. It smelled more like wood that had been soaked for a hundred years in dill pickle juice.
There were three bedrooms upstairs. I’d been assigned one at the end of the hallway because it had the most closet space and I had the most clothes. The loose knob nearly fell off in my hand as I turned it. The walls were painted dark pink. Actually, I liked that. And I had a window seat too. That was another bonus. It didn’t make up for the single bathroom, but it helped. There was a great view of the bay from my window, which in time, I might come to appreciate.
Although most of the furniture in the house had been auctioned off in an estate sale, I appeared to be the lucky, new owner of an ancient bookcase. There were four small drawers beneath three warped empty shelves. The hinges and handles on the drawers looked like they came from a medieval castle. Mom had a great appreciation for old stuff. We would definitely be sliding the lopsided relic down to her room.
****
“Zilly! Pizza’s here,” Tyler yelled up the stairwell. I was starved and my toe was throbbing. After eight hours of carrying boxes, climbing steep stairs, and trying to figure out where all our stuff went, I felt like shit. Christy sent me hourly messages to let me know what was happening in the old neighborhood as if I had been gone for months, and the moving man called me Bolivia twice and Peru once. I told him he must have been some kind of geographical genius, but my sarcasm went right over his head.
No word at all from Jenny. I tried not to read anything into it. I decided she was trying a cold turkey approach to life without Brazil.
When everyone had gone, including the cable man, who Mom had called immediately thinking that TV and computer would make us feel right at home, we’d all stood staring at our sleek, modern furniture looking completely out of place in the dismal, ancient family room or parlor as Mom had called it.
“It will look brighter in here once I clean the windows and hang some
curtains,” Mom had said, but she’d sounded unsure.
I hung my favorite black sweater in the stuffy smelling closet, arranged my collection of stuffed animals at the foot of my bed, and limped down the hallway. There were only two faint lights, and they cast stretched, spooky shadows on the walls of the landing. I glanced out the small window at the top of the stairs. The beach looked deserted and uninviting. The black ocean swells looked glossy in the moonlight. I was never too fond of the ocean. It always seemed so bottomless and full of things that could bite off your legs or pull you down to your death. At night, it seemed especially scary.
Tyler and Raymond were already at the table covering their pizza slices with red pepper flakes and Parmesan cheese. Mom was at the counter pouring soda for everyone. The dogs were stretched out behind her on the black and white tile floor, while the cats circled her feet, rubbing their faces against her legs as she filled glasses. The animals were already at home in the new place. Of course, to them, any place was home as long as Mom was there.
I flipped open the pizza box. I was hungry enough to eat cold, greasy, completely fattening pizza.
Mom placed a glass in front of me. “Sorry, there’s no ice yet.” She scooted her chair to the table. “I’ll continue cleaning and unpacking while you’re at school. We should feel pretty settled in by tomorrow. Six weeks is still enough time to make some new friends before school lets out for summer.”
I broke the long string of cheese dangling between my mouth and the slice of pizza I was holding. Mom was staring at me as I chewed. I didn’t say anything but pretended to be very into my food. Just like that, little miss everything is wonderful thought I could walk into a new high school of strange faces and sweep up an entire crew of new friends.
“Raymond, can you hook up the computer in my room after dinner?” I asked. I had no intention of getting into a conversation with my mom about how great this new life was going to be.
“If you finish unpacking my clothes, I will. And that includes my underwear and socks,” Raymond said.
“Fine. As long as the underwear is clean.”
This comment made Tyler burst out laughing. Unfortunately, he had a mouthful of soda, and it sprayed over everything.
“Tyler!” Mom said.
“It was her fault,” Tyler complained.
Mom shook her head and wiped up the table with a handful of napkins and a look of satisfaction. “Our first dinner in our new house and it’s just like old times,” she said. Even though she wasn’t looking at me, the words were meant for my ears.
I looked pointedly at the fifth chair at the table, the empty chair. “It’s not like old times at all.” I folded the rest of the pizza up in my paper plate and limped to the trash to toss it. I knew I wasn’t making this any easier on Mom, but I couldn’t stop myself. She did not have to restart her high school existence.
Plunking down on the couch in the family room, I fished the phone out of my pocket and pressed two. I suddenly had an urge to talk to Dad.
“Hey Zilly, what’s up? Everyone alright?”
“Except for almost losing my toe, we all survived the move, physically at least.”
“What happened to your toe?” Dad asked. The sound of mumbling voices and dishes clanking flowed through the phone.
“Nothing. Thanks to the little piece of skin that is holding it on, I still have all ten.”
“Zilly, what’s wrong?” The fact that he had to ask was beyond annoying.
“Everything is great, Dad. Where are you? A restaurant?’
“I’m at dinner.” There was a pause. “Cynthia and I just sat down for a bite to eat.”
He always tried to make everything he did with Cynthia sound casual, like it was no big deal that he was dating someone other than Mom.
“Cynthia says hello,” he said.
I didn’t return the hello. I considered telling him to let her know that Nickelodeon was having a cartoon marathon over Memorial Day, but I held my tongue.
“The house is really old,” I said. “One good storm and we’ll be floating in the ocean.”
“You don’t need to worry, Sweetie. Those old houses are built much better than the new ones. Another bottle of Chablis, please,” he said. “Listen, Brazil, about next weekend, I can’t take you car shopping like I promised.”
It was to be expected, after all the day was a solid two. “Why not?”
“Something’s come up. But we’ll definitely go before the end of the month.”
“Whatever.”
“Don’t be mad, Zilly. I’ll call you tomorrow. Our food’s here.”
“Enjoy.”
“Brazil,” he said one last time, “go easy on your mom. This was not all her fault.” He spoke quietly into the phone, most likely to spare Cynthia from hearing about the crap from his former life.
“Bye, Dad. Safe landing.” It was something Mom and I always said to him when he was leaving the house for work. I snapped shut my phone, dropped it on the coffee table, and made a mental note never to call him on a day that was a solid two.
Raymond hovered over me with a big box. “My underwear awaits.” He dropped it onto the couch next to me.
Chapter 3
The boys’ room was big and airy. I liked it better than my room, but the closet space was a joke. I filled their oak dresser with their clothes all the while playing the shitty conversation with Dad in my head. Go easy on Mom. I had many comebacks for that admonition, but I’d kept my lips zipped. My mouth was notorious for getting me in trouble, but tonight I’d decided to keep it shut. I didn’t have the energy to argue with Dad or anyone for that matter. In fact, diving under my quilt and burying my head in my pillow seemed like the only thing that could relieve the misery of the day.
“It’s up and running,” Raymond announced proudly from the doorway. He was becoming quite the computer nerd.
I tossed the last ball of socks in the top drawer and slid it shut. “Thanks.” I pushed past both of them.
Brandy, a girl I used to hang with at the barn, was online.
Unfortunately, Siesta was always lame. Poor guy needed to retire.
I typed back.
Bridgett was a good rider only because she always had great trainers and awesome horses. But she picked at the horse’s mouth constantly.
Her last message landed like a rock in my stomach. Carrington was another friend I’d left behind. He was an awesome horse who somehow always sensed when I was having a tough day. And now I’d betrayed him by leaving him with an awful new owner.
Blake’s annoying message of
Boy, I was way the hell off base. My closest and dearest friend had posted some new pictures, and the first one was a picture of her with her arms around my ex-boyfriend. I stared at the picture in disbelief, and then decided to leave her a nice, little comment.
“Isn’t that special? I guess you’re such a moron, you thought since I didn’t live in Boston anymore I wouldn’t be able to see Facebook. Surprise! That’s why they call it the World Wide Web. Traitor!”
I closed the screen and slumped back in my chair trying to decide if I was more fuming or hurt. I had broken up with Blake and Jenny, of all people, knew my feelings didn’t run too deep for the guy, but there had to be some unspoken rule about not latching on to your best friend’s ex-boyfriend. But the worst offense was the fact that she didn’t tell me first. Posting the pictures was the coward’s way out.
A burst of air blew across my face. It brought with it a scent that reminded me of my grandma’s almond breakfast buns. The old windows obviously didn’t have any weather stripping, which explained the breeze but not the odor. I went back to my brooding rage.
My intuition had told me something was up with Jenny for the last week. I thought she was just upset about me moving. That’ll teach me to think so highly of myself. Apparently she couldn’t wait for me to go. Jenny and I had been best friends since third grade. We used to trade off sleeping at each other’s houses every Friday night. We’d stay up half the night painting our nails, gossiping about boys, and eating raw chunks of slice and bake cookie dough. While we had our differences and spent at least several weeks a year not talking to one another, we were still each other’s closest friend. Like me, she only had brothers, but her parents were still together. Her life was still normal. Only now, she had lost her best friend forever.
The sound of footsteps and dog toenails clicking on the hardwood floor alerted me to Mom’s arrival. She poked her head in. “I want to take a look at that toe, Brazil. We may need to take you to a doctor.” She looked at my face. “What’s wrong?”
That was all I needed. Tears flowed down my cheeks before she got the word wrong out. “Nothing much. Someone other than me is winning ribbons on my horse, and someone other than me is kissing my boyfriend,” I sobbed. “And now I am living in a termite infested tomb. Otherwise, things are great.”
