"Tick tock, tick tock" the clock on the wall whispered as I wrote my essay. I was taking my final final and it was English, so writing intensely was a must. "In my opinion I...oh right, it's an essay, no 'I' necessary." I thought to myself.
Click, click. "Damn mechanical pencils." Things never seem to work when you need them to. "Maybe, I'm out of lead," I thought. I clicked furiously at the pencil until finally something came out. "Ouch!" unfortunately in a freak accident that tiny piece of lead hit the desk and flew into my eye. I began to whimper as my right eye watered and I struggled to take it out. I guess I got so frustrated that I struggled too hard because the next thing I knew I was falling backwards, flipping my desk over and knocking into several others. After that, I laid unconscious for maybe an hour.
"Ms. Evans? Oh, gosh, are you alright?" Mrs. Hemly hovered over me as I tried to gather myself and apologize for taking out nearly half the class.
"I'm alright I just got something in my eye and I don't think I can see out of it right now, it just keeps watering." I was so unbelievably panicked. Was I blind in one eye? I was sent home that day and had to make up the test at a later date. As for that day though, it was off to the eye doctor.
"Ok, I'm going to turn off the light and shine a special flashlight into your eye so we can see the problem." The doctor shined the light on my eye as I looked about the room. "Just as I suspected, you have a scratched cornea. It looks pretty nasty. I'm going to have to ask that you wear a patch so it can heal and you will also have to take some of these anti-bacterial eye drops."
"I understand the need for drops, but why a patch?"
"Well, let's see, your eye's watering and you can't see out of it clearly, correct?"
"Uh-huh"
"Well it's watering because you're blinking and to avoid you blinking we're going to have to close your eye temporarily, unless you can hold your eye open at all times. Plus this way, we can also avoid anything else rupturing your cornea for the time being." It made sense to be wearing the patch; I was just worried about how others would react.
"Oh man, check out Sam, she's a pirate." A friend yelled out laughing. I was embarrassed, but eventually I loosened up and was able to laugh at the experience. "Hey Sam, isn't it a little early for Halloween." I didn't really mind the comments, especially because majority of them were coming from my friends. In fact, after the whole ordeal, I was renamed Patchy the pirate (a character on Spongebob Squarepants). "Arg, are you ready kids? Aye aye captain!" Then again, other times, it would have been nice to just scream "Knock it off!" but hey that's life.
"Samantha!" a loud, yet calm voice rang in my ears as I stirred subtly in my beanbag chair.
"I must have fallen asleep here again." I thought to myself as I stretched in an attempt to release fatigue and become more comfortable, yet still continued to feel as if I had just been hit by truck.
The voice belonged to my mother and as she shrieked my name at the top of her lungs in an effort to wake and summon me for breakfast, I realized how original it really was, my name that is.
Samantha Chrysanthemum Evans; I have a first and middle name whose nicknames are that of the opposite sex. How original. Here I am both Sam and Chrys, but it fits, considering I am a bit of a tomboy. Despite that tidbit, I have always wondered if my parents secretly wished for another boy instead and just elongated my names in order to make them more feminine.
"Sam, let's go! Breakfast is waiting for you on the table and..." Her voice trailed off. Either that or I just began to block it out. I couldn't tell any more, but I didn't care because all I wanted to do was hop into the shower in hopes of getting a little seclusion for the time being. Afterwards, I went downstairs and tried to leave the house without any confrontation with my mother. Unfortunately, that was unavoidable.
"What? You're not going to eat?" She questioned as she glanced up from a month old magazine she clasped between both hands. Her seat was pulled up toward the kitchen table as her legs crossed underneath in a neatly pressed, black skirt.
"No. I don't have the time. If Josh already left with Danny, I'll have to hitch a ride to Dad's with the Thompsons." I proclaimed.
"Well he did, so I guess you should."
"Unless..."
"Unless what?"
"Unless, you could bring me?" I stared at her with a glimpse of hope.
"I would, but you see, I too am quite busy." Her eyes stayed fixed on me in a cold stare until she lifted her magazine and continued to shield them. "Plus I'm sure Karen wouldn't mind taking you."
"Of course." I whispered to myself, almost mouthing the words.
"Why wouldn't Karen mind? Isn't she the only adult that ever seems to come through for me anyway? What's the matter mom? Too busy chugging your morning screwdriver to care about your own kids any more? Ugh... spare me the bull." I continued to mutter this, followed by a few other obscenities as I approached my neighbors' door. Mr. And Mrs. Thompson smiled as they answered.
"Hey there Sam! Always nice to see you."
"Hello Mr. Thompson, it's nice to see you too."
"Well I got to go Kare, Gary and the guys want some help fixing up Lyle's shed. I should be back in an hour or so." Mr. Thompson kissed his wife goodbye and headed down the street. When he was no longer visible to either of us, Mrs. Thompson queried,
"Need a lift to your dad's again hon?"
"Yes actually, sorry to bother you."
"Oh, no trouble at all dear. I'll start the car in a few minutes; you just sit tight on the porch. Okay?" I nodded graciously, but as she walked away, I felt the heat of embarrassment fill my cheeks and I grew angry. How many times have I come to them in need of assistance for me to be that predictable? How many times have I showed up on their doorstep because my mother couldn't own up to her own responsibility? As I tried to calm myself, I realized this was one of those days where my mood would remain dreary until I met some intelligent contact. That would not happen.
"Where's Adam? He's not coming with us?" I asked as I entered the small car and began to buckle my safety belt.
"Oh no, I'm sorry dear, but he's got a little touch of the flu and he won't be joining us on this car ride, but don't worry I assure you that I won't bore you too much on purpose and besides, it's only a half hour ride."
"Only a half hour ride, she says," I thought to myself. "More like a ride of almost complete silence that seems to last an eternity." I was right once again. Mrs. Thompson and I barely spoke the entire trip, except when she asked me meaningless questions that either required a "yes," "no," or "fine."
"Well, here we are hon, tell your father I said 'hi,'" She stated as she pulled into the vacant driveway next to my dad's tiny new 'bachelor pad' and perpendicular to his small blue Toyota and parallel to that, my brother's new Saturn. "If you need a ride back home, don't be too afraid to call. Okay?"
"Don't worry about it, Josh and Danny came here hours ago. I'll just get a ride with them." I responded as I opened up the car door and let myself out.
"Okie doke dear." She began to put the car in reverse and back away when I interjected.
"Mrs. Thompson?"
"Yes dear?" She paused for a moment.
"Thank you."
"No problem. You know I'm always here when you need me." She drove away with a smile.
"I know." My voice trailed off as I turned away from the accelerated car and walked up the path toward my so-called-father's front door. I knocked harshly on the front entrance and began to wait patiently. About 2 minutes passed before I received an answer.
"Hey. It's about time you woke up and made your way over here. I was beginning to worry." The voice that answered was my brother Josh. I replied with a simple "Well, you needn't worry, I'm here" and embraced him tightly.
"Anyway baby sister, come on in, Dad and Danny are in the living room playing video games. I'll be back in a little while and we'll head home. Alright?"
"Wait!" I cried out bamboozled. "Where are you going?"
"Oh sorry, I told dad I would help him out and do a little grocery shopping for him at that corner market on 5th street."
"Why on earth would you do that to me?"
"To you? What are you talking about? I'm not doing anything to you."
"Yu-huh, you're leaving me alone with a parent who abandoned us and who I can no longer trust, not that I trust mom any more or anything..."
"Come on Chrys, you're beginning to babble."
"I'm sorry I can't help it. I'm always like this when I'm anxious."
"Don't get so panicky. At the maximum, I won't be gone any longer than an hour and a half, and who knows maybe you'll bond with him a bit... like I did."
"Consorting with the enemy, eh?" We both giggled as my brother let the door close behind him.
I love my brother Josh. Sometimes I think he is the only one who understands me; the only one who takes the time out to listen to my comments and concerns about life and the choices I make throughout it. Since the divorce, he's been the only adult that I can speak to and not really consider an adult. What I mean is, adults see things the way they are and don't do anything about it. In the eyes of children, things are either looked upon as right or wrong and they only wish to make everything right. Although I know he has his flaws, I feel like the child within gives him the need to make everything right and that's why I trust him and feel he can do no wrong. That's also why he calls me Chrys.
I made my way to the living room and my younger brother, Daniel, instantly greeted me. He looked up at me with big brown eyes and round cheeks and shouted 'Sammy!'
"Hey Danny. Having fun?" He then embraced me sweetly and as I muttered the words "Guess so." I looked up to see my father sitting alone in the corner.
"Hi there Sam." He spoke softly.
"Hello dad or should I refer to you as Keith now." I know I shouldn't have been so unkind, but at that moment, the words were too horrible to resist. It apparently was not as awful as intended because instead of speaking back, he decided to take it in stride and ignore my rather uncouth remark.
Danny and I decided to occupy ourselves. We indulged in gratuitous violence that lied within our video games provided by PlayStation, while our father finished preparing our evening meal. Soon all were served and the three of us sat at the table in quiet as our taste buds were spoiled by what was far better than the usual microwavable frozen dinners we received at my mother's so often. It was not that we minded the average American supper in the home of a business woman who was not around enough to cook. In fact, we completely understood the brunt of a busy life and the only thing that was even remotely an issue was the fact that she was not around. This was just slightly diverse and as good as it seemed at first, it slowly reminded me of what a content home tasted like and gave me images of how it could have felt to have it back again.
"Wow! This is a lot better than what mommy cooks for dinner." Daniel cheered as he smiled happily and wiped his mouth off with a napkin.
"Well Danny, dad is a chef and you know mom has a lot to do. She is just tired a lot of the time and we have to give her a break." I found that I had been oblivious to the fact that I was defending my own mother for a split second. Realizing my mistake, my minor blunder that supported the workaholic beast that I myself could hardly stand, I quickly altered the statement to somewhat. "I mean, she not only works, but she has to deal with both you and I in the house. Unlike Keith here, who probably has all the time in the world now, since he's rid of us." My younger sibling gazed at me confused by my callous words and then hastily turned away. Seeing how I manipulated a tiny compliment toward my mother and made it into a tawdry insult bashing my dad, he made it his duty to speak up.
"Excuse me? Sam, what you said is hardly fair. I'm still your father and I don't feel it's right for you to speak to me like that. It's wrong for you to refer to me by first name and how dare you accuse me of not working hard enough!"
"I am sorry dad, but it's not about being fair. What did you expect from me? Did you think I was just going to accept this so easily? You just moved out two weeks ago. You went out to some bar one night, came home and decided you and mom should get a divorce months before and now you're gone."
"Maybe I should be more understanding, but you don't know what your mother and I went through..."
"You're right. Maybe I am not completely aware of all that went on," I boldly interrupted. "But that still doesn't take away from the fact that you didn't call after you left or that you barely spoke to any of us after you guys made your decision to call it quits. Instead of being an adult about all this, you waited until two teens and a 10 year old got in touch with you. You gave up on us."
He sat in awe for awhile with the appearance of a face in search of the correct parental phrase to blurt out. Before he could even bother to come across one, I spoke up.
"By the way, you mentioned how you didn't like the way I was speaking to you and I now understand that that was a bit disrespectful. No one should be talked down to in their own house. So before, I sound any more condescending, I think I better leave. Thanks for supper or at least what I ate of it."
Having said this I stormed out and sat on the porch steps with no one chasing after me. There was nothing else to do but sob tears of anger and anguish, triumph, but overall defeat. Only an hour had passed, but it seemed as if I had been crying for an eternity, until Joshua finally arrived with the groceries.
"You guys got into it again, didn't you?" He questioned as he lifted my chin and our eyes met.
"I warned you." I responded quietly in a somber voice, yet still managing a bit of stifled laughter.
"Go wait in the car, I'll be back with Danny in a sec."
Our ride was genuinely peaceful and we did not speak of the incident that had taken place. Although I am sure that the scene upset my younger brother, he kept quiet about it, as I would have wanted him too. I grew weary of dealing with my family and our mindless squabbles and as we entered our town, I asked my brother if he would drop me off on to Grant St.
"Tell mom, you lost me along the way and that I am most likely lying in a ditch somewhere, preferably dead or barely clinging to life."
"Don't worry, I'll inform her that you're sleeping over Willow's"
"Remember to mention the free drugs and solicitation!" I called after the roaring vehicle.
YOU ARE READING
Almost Eden
Teen FictionComing of age story following the life of 16 year old Samantha as she navigates her way through life's cynicism, a breakdown of family & self discovery, all while maintaining the joys of friendship.
