The Silent Helper

        I wiped my sweaty hands on my old, faded jeans and then swept my dirty-blonde bangs that desperately needed a trim-off of my forehead. A slight smile appeared on my face, and I mentally checked off ‘unpack’ from my list. I tossed the last cardboard box down the basement stairs and went to find Mom. She was sitting at the kitchen table with her head in her hands, looking confused and down. My heart sunk. The past year had been so hard on us, and I hoped that moving to a new town across the country had been good for both of us. It was going to be different. We were used to living in New York City, with noise and people everywhere, but now we had moved to Yarmouth, a town in Maine, where the population was about 8,000. I must admit what I had seen didn’t look bad. It was like an older, picture-perfect town, where a few of the streets were still cobblestone, where they had real flower baskets hanging from the lamp posts on Main Street, and where the three older women who co-owned the coziest café in town knew everyone’s name. I decided it was possible to like this place

        My mom lifted up her head. “Kari?” she asked.

        “Yes Mom?” I left my train of thoughts and entered reality again.

        “Have you finished unpacking?” She looked at the last stack of boxes piled against the dining room wall. “I wanted to help you, but I’m feeling overwhelmed.”

        “It’s okay, you’ve been through a lot.” I sat down at the table with her. “Need any help?”

        “No, I think I’m fine.” She smiled at me. “We can make this, baby.” She brushed my hair out of my face. “You need a hair cut.”

        “I know.” I wrinkled up my nose. “We passed a beauty salon on the way here yesterday, I’m sure it would do the job.”

        “Yes it would.” Mom agreed, “We can check it out later. What do you say we take a break and get something to eat from that little café?”

                                                                                * * * *

        We had moved in the end of August, and September came quickly. I had stayed mostly to myself, since I knew no one yet. I had realized that most people talked way too much and never said anything worth listening to, which bothered me. My school in New York was a sophisticated school, and I had a small group of friends that I had grown up with, so I had been fine. I didn’t like the idea that I would be an outsider, but I decided it wouldn’t matter. After a few more years I’d be out of here and I could do whatever I wanted.

                                                                                * * * *

        “BEEP BEEP BEEP,” My obnoxious and intolerable alarm clock blared its heinous cry into the early morning. I raised my tired arm from under my pillow and slapped the top of the clock until the noise was replaced with deafening silence. I inwardly groaned when I remembered that today was the first day of school. Sliding out of bed, I went for a quick shower, and then came back to get dressed, pulling on a pair of dark shorts and a light grey T-shirt. I pulled a brush through my tangled, yet smooth, light hair, hair that was the colour of streaked honey, and swooped it into a ponytail.

        “I can’t drown my demons, they know how to swim…” Mom looked at me with a questioning glance after reading my shirt. “Kari, are you sure you want to give that kind of impression on the first day of school?”

        “What impression?” I asked, my voice threatening to turn grumpy. “This is my comfort shirt. I need it like you need those black heels you have had since forever.”