MY SHOOTING STAR

Chapter Five

"He wants what?" Nana couldn't fathom the idea that Mr. Valencia demanded food from her. Through her grandson, no less! Yes, she understood the neighbors' desires for her cooking, but making bargains for it? How crude! Did they not realize how much of a commodity it was to eat radiant dishes when income was scarce?

I had to catch my breath when she drove franatically under the influence of her emotions. We were on our way to the conference, and every part of me wished that we had this car turned back home before I hurled--and I was saving that reaction for the forcast of Ms. Mollina's ghastly remarks about me. "I'm just a messenger, Abuela."

"Why bargain with the old fool knowing we have only enough for ourselves?" She sunk into the driver's seat of her red, beat up, 1989 Daihatsu Charade. She unknowingly ran a red light before it was too late. "Aye!"

"Th-there is no n-need to overreact!" I forced out of my mouth, holding onto the assist handle above my head to dear life.

She had every right to overreact. Especially from how I treated her over the years. I guess Mr. Valencia forknew that her reaction from his comment would cause her to be riled up, but at least he got us talking to each other again. I just wished it was under different circumstances and not at the expense of our lives.

Either way, thank you, Mr. Valencia, I thought.

Now, I had to convince Nana to cook for him so that his good deed would go unnoticed.

Maybe inviting him to dinner should suffice. Though, a bigger table was needed because its capacity was no match for his extremely large stomach.

Her eyeballs almost flew out of her sockets from how wide she expressed them. She was furious. "¿Estoy exagerando? Me?"

I tore my eyes from her, indicated that there was no one else in the car, then looked back at her dead in the face. "Well, yeah!"

She took in a deep breath and let out oxygen, along with all of the stress and frustration she held onto since last night. In spanish, she said with a heavy heart, "I'm sorry, sweetie. It's just that it's not easy taking in another child and raising him alone with little to no help. It's a lot of responsibility! Especially at my old age. If I were younger, I would have done it with ease!"

"But I'm not just any other child," I corrected her.

"Oh, Mijo! Of course you aren't! That's never going to change. It's that most days I'm just....tired. I'm not built as I used to be."

She didn't have to say more.

I knew when my existence was a burden just as not knowing where I belonged--both realizations felt like crap. Hearing it from Nana, finally, after eight years of living with her, made my stomach churn in ways I couldn't comprehend. Wishing upon this to anyone else was out of the question. Not even to my enemies.

"They bailed like cowards," I groaned in my seat, mentioning the deceitful act of my parent's supposed love.

"Let's not gloat on the past," Nana advised. "It will not change the fact of what happened. We just have to live for what's important now, like your conference!"

"There you go, changing the subject as if you're defending them again!" I barked. "You're making them appear like they're saints!"

"Ohh..." she convulsed with laughter. "They're far from that!"

Confused, I asked, "Then why are you defending them?"

"I'm not! What they did won't make sense, and I agree with you. It's just that..." she sighed, trying to make sense of it all in her head before speaking in her language again. "I'm sure they had their reasons..."