The Spoken Truth

Chapter One: The Move

 My life was changing one box at a time. It takes careful hands to a life worth living and mine had no value. Not in Los Angeles at least; so I left. I left my Dad for my Mom. It took a while to decide this, but it didn’t take long to convince my dad to let me go with her.

I looked back at the big white mansion and remembered all my good and bad memories of my childhood. I wasn’t sure if I was doing the right thing by leaving; I knew that my dad would be crushed, but he let me do anything that I thought was the best for me. I knew that this would be right. A lonely night every evening in the huge house was not my ideal night; I wanted to be with family and that wouldn’t happen with the job my dad had.

“Are you sure that this is the right thing to do Mars?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” I told my dad as I put the remaining boxes one by one in the small moving truck. I was sad, but I knew what I was doing.

“Okay, sweetheart, but if you change your mind you know where to find me.” Dad said with a sad expression on his face.

          He leaned in to kiss my cheek, but was interrupted by the loud sound of my mother’s big, white SUV. The door on the driver’s side opened, with a loud screech. My mother appeared from behind the door; she obviously was coming from her painting class. She had on a large white t-shirt, which was splattered with different colored spots of paint.

“Hey darlin’, ready to go?” she said with her southern accent. Since her hometown was Menlo, Georgia that wasn’t going to change.

“Almost, just gotta say good bye to dad!” I tried to sound excited.

         I could see it in his blue eyes; he was in a very awkward moment. He combed his blondish gray hair back and kissed my cheek, as if I was just going to school. Mom and I both knew that he had never liked saying goodbyes.

“Bye, dad.” I said around my shoulder as I walked to the car. The moving guy was already in his truck when I hopped in. He had a very big, gray beard. He was a little chubby, looked to be around forty-five. 

“Do you have everything?” Mom asked.

“Yes.” I said turning back to look into her dark brown eyes.

“Okay then. We’re off, Dan. Gotta beat rush hour!” She yelled to my father, who was already at the door ready to go back inside.

“Okay, bye Marcie.” He said turning around. He calls me that when I’m not in trouble, but when I am he calls me Marcella Joan Oscar.

         It was a very long five and a half hour drive to Monterey, California from Los Angeles. My dad is a movie director so we move around a lot. That is one of the many reasons my parents are divorced.  I was only eight when it happened, but that is another story. My mom is an art teacher in Riverview Middle School. Which I think is pretty cool. I will be a sophomore at Rock Hill High School. I know a few kids who go there but just the ones I met every summer at the beach. I think I look more like my dad then my mom, because my dad is very tan and so am I and I also have his eyes. My mom says I am a perfect mixture of both her and my dad. 

         Then, suddenly, my mother broke the silence. “So how’s life treatin’ you?” she said abruptly.

“Fine, and yours?” I said trying to keep the conversation alive.

“Fine, I have someone back home I’d like you to meet.”

“OK” I gave up.

          It was silent the rest of the way there. I like the silence. Well, I guess I’m used to it, because my dad is rarely home before I fall asleep. Silence is a chance to think about things you can’t say to anyone, but yourself. Usually when I get home I see my cat, Freckles, and he comes to sit on my lap while I do my piles of homework. No one else is in the house until at lease eleven thirty or even sometimes later.

          When we finally arrived, we were greeted by a medium-sized yellow lab. He has a hard tail that hurts when it hits you. He also has dark brown eyes and a dark peach nose.

“This is Murphy, he’s our new four–legged friend!” Mom chuckled when she got out of the car.

         I smiled as I saw the moving truck pull into the driveway. I was excited to have a new place to live, a clean slate. No one here knows me as well as they did in Los Angeles. I didn’t really fit in there and I was hoping that I would here.

“Here are your things, ma’am,” he said as he got out of his trash-filled truck.

“Thanks,” I said, handing him a ten-dollar tip. He looked pretty grateful, but still drowsy from the drive. I went to the back of the moving truck and grabbed the first box I saw. It was full to the top with my clothes. I quickly walked into my new permanent home. It felt good to know that I wasn’t about to move in the next two or three years. I was anxious to get inside and see my new surroundings. I was also excited to go to school. We still had a couple of weeks to go until I could finally go to Rock Hill.

         As I walked into my new home, followed by my mother, I saw that she got new couches. The old couches had been brown and now they are light beige, with light green pillows. It looked nice, though I was still excited to see my new room and if it had changed at all for my arrival. But to my surprise it hadn’t. My mother was all about change.  

“So how do you like it?” Mom asked as she walked into my room.

“You mean the couches? I love them, I think they look great!” I said honestly.

“Thanks. I designed them myself!”

“Are you hungry?” she asked as we both walked into the kitchen. I looked at the clock, one thirty; I didn’t realize how hungry I really was until she asked.

“Yes, very.” I said politely. “What do you have?”

“I could make grilled cheeses,” she said. She knew how much I adored grilled cheese.

“That sounds fabulous!” I exclaimed.

         She started the stove and put a pan, the size of my head, on top of the heated one. First, she spread butter on the bread, just the way I like it. Then, she put it on the pan and buttered the other slice. I asked what she wanted to drink and I poured two glasses of sweet, freshly made, ice tea. I sliced a lemon and put a piece in each glass.

“Yummm.” I said as I finished the last of my sweet tea with the remaining lemon and ice still in the glass. ”Thanks!”

“Anytime.” She replied.

“I’d better start unpacking.” I said as I cleaned up my plate and put it in the dishwasher.

         I started down the hallway to the front door, with Murphy still following me. When I opened the door I saw that the truck was still there. I went to it and looked inside for the next closest box. I grabbed the one that said “Marcie’s clothes.” I went and brought the box to my new room.

“Need any help, Marcie?” Mom asked already going down stairs.

“Sure, just grab any box there in the truck,” I said thankfully.

         It didn’t take long to unpack everything. My clothes took a while though. I also own a lot of books. Reading is the best thing in the world to do when you are alone so often. I can’t read when it is loud like on the bus, but I can wait until I get home, where all you can hear is the occasional thump of Freckles feet on the floor. I don’t like to read books more than once, because then I know what the ending is, and that’s no fun.

         I decided to call my friends who lived here and ask if they wanted to go to the beach.

“YES, I would love to do that!” Kacie said obviously not knowing that I was here.

“Yeah, sure, I will be down in ten minutes.” Maggie agreed.

“Cool,” I responded.