The Relatives

Badly Dyed Black Hair

I walked into the bathroom. Staring into the mirror always helped me to think. Vain right? But somehow just staring at something got my brain going. Today though wasn't one of those good thinking days. The only things running through my head were Foster Parents, End Of the Month... Suddenly I was blinking back tears. What? It's not like I wanted to live here anyway, I told my brain. But somehow emotion got the better of me and the tears started to drip down my face. I sighed and looked into the mirror again. 

My scruffy, badly cut, long hair that had been half dyed black with cheap box dye looked like a bush. My skin was pale and had broken out in several places. I touched my face with my hand and looked down and the bitten, cracked, dirty nails. What had happened to me? 6 months ago I cared more about what I looked like then anything else. I kept staring dejectedly into the mirror at my body. The tears started to flow even more, I felt like someone was stabbing my stomach. Look at me, how pathetic i thought. Crying over how I look.

This made me cry even more.

Honestly, i thought. It's not like how I look matters anymore. 

So first things first. How was I going to find my dads friend. I decided to make a mental list of everything I knew about him. Okay...

1. His name is Justin Goode

2. He lives in Toronto, Canada

3. He is a lawyer

4. The last time i saw him was at the memorial service.

I realised that that wasn't much to go on but you can find anything on google.I walked over to my bed and pulled out my Mac Book air from underneath the mattress. it was One of the only thing I kept from "my past life". That was a sad little joke I had with myself. I had two suitcases of my parents stuff that hadn't been sold or been put into storage and a suitcase of things that I had been allowed to keep. My brain had immediately said in its annoying little voice "look It's your past life."

I typed Justin Goode,Toronto into my search browser. I got a lot of rubbish links to Justin Bieber and a liquor company. Great , I thought. This might actually take a while.

Next i searched Justin Goode, Toronto, Lawyer.

The Internet came up with Jason Batemen, Mitt Romney and the wikipedia link to Idiocracy. Maybe the link was trying to tell me that I was being an idiot . I sighed. There had to be another way. For the next hour I tryed different key words, search browsers and professional websites. I got nothing. The feeling of despair was starting to engulf me. The frustration was eating into me.

Why was the world doing this to me. I glanced over at the 3 unopened "past life suitcases". Maybe there was something in there. I opened the suitcase I had marked "Dad" in Tipp-Ex. My eyes burned with tears as I lifted out his favourite suits and his cologne. i sprayed the cologne but  started to cry again and waved it away. i continued to unpack it, losing myself In memories until the suitcase was empty except for a picture of my dad. I stared at the picture my eyes blurry with tears. As they dripped onto the picture frame cleaning the dust off it I noticed someones arm sticking out from under the frame. I flipped over the frame. Damn It was one of those stupid ones that you had to screw off. Nail scissors would probably work just fine. Problem was, i didn't use mine anymore. 

After half an hour I admitted defeat. I couldn't find them anywhere. So I asked Alissa If i could borrow hers. She looked surprised as I never asked for anything . She gave me her pair. I ran back to my room without saying thank you and hastily loosened the screws and prised the back of the frame off.  And there he was. My father and Justin Goode, a lot younger but definitely them. I was surprised to find that It was actually a newspaper clipping. The title had been cut off but the date and caption were still on the bottom they had just been hidden by the frame. 

"Toronto Star Reports , 12 March 1973, Bloor Street, Corbin Gray and Justin Goode's campaign to ban Black bear hunting unsuccessful"  

They were pictured un front of a building called "Gray and Goode Private Lawyers and Attorneys" 

This was it. I just needed to find a contact detail. I spent the next 3 hours on the internet finding out what had happened to it. It turned out that it had been bought by another law firm. Benson & Co Law Office. I clicked the link. There was a contact detail for the firm. i picked up my phone. This is stupid my brain said. There is no way they'll have any information, that picture is from 1973. But i dialled the number anyway.

"Goodmorning Benson & Co Law Office speaking, how may I assist you?" A bored Canadian women said.

"Uhh..Um... Hi, um I was wondering if you knew the wearabouts of a Mr Justin Goode?" Wow I sounded sophisticated ,"whereabouts", I never used those words.

"We have a Mr Justin Goode here, ma'am, would you like me to connect this call to his office?"

"Yes please" I said without thinking. Wait what If this wasn't him, shit then what would I do? My brain was subconciously hyperventilating.

The tone rang over and over again on the receiver, the suspense was killing me, I hadn't realised how much I was sweating.

"Hello, Justin Goode speaking" A deep voice rumbled through the phone making me jump.

"Hello, Mr Goode? Uh this is Lulu Gray speaking. Um, I was wondering If you knew, um, my dad-"

"Corbin." Chuckled the deep voice on the other end.

"You, knew him?" I stuttered.

"Yes, I did, don't you remember me from the memorial service?"

"Oh, Right," I said in  a dazed voice, "Well, um I was just calling to ask if you new of any relatives of mine that I had." 

"Relatives...hmm... Not that I know of but maybe... Well there is one... but nah...."

"Tell me, You have to tell me," I said desperately.

"Are You sure?" He asked.

"Of course." I said.