The Wanderers

Chapter 1 || Easton 2003

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"Easton! Elsa! Come in here, please," Mom screamed from the living room. Every time she screams my name she loves to emphasize the T, so instead of Easton, it comes out more like Eas-Ton. 

My room sits right next to the living room and the walls are pretty much paper-thin. It's a box really, but it's my box. I grew up in this box. The four walls that enclose me are full of my Transformer and Lord of the Rings posters. Underneath my perfectly unmade bed is a shoebox full of baseball cards, my dad passed onto me just last year; the year I turned nine. Don't ask me why he didn't wait until ten; I don't know, for some reason his magic year was nine.

My sister's room, however, is the biggest, second to my parents, of course, but her room doesn't have 4 walls that make sense, her walls are like a small box and a large box had a baby and made that. She also loves blasting her music, so before I go out to mom it's my job to go get Elsa.

"Elsa, Mom's calling," I shout to her, banging on her door, but she ignored me. "Come on, open up," I tried again. When she opens the door, she looks down at me as though I'm an annoying insect. It's not her fault really; I mean, I am her younger brother. I think that's how she's supposed to look at me.

She walks ahead of me to make sure she's the first one out there because she loves being the best, the first, and the greatest. This is something I learned early on in life: never get in her way.

Mom and Dad are sitting together on the long gray couch against the far wall in the living room, the room is similar to my room, but more massive and with two giant gaps in the walls connecting to the kitchen and the entrance.

I chose to stand because for some reason I'm nervous about what they have to say. Mom's face is constantly shifting from one emotion to the next, as though, she herself doesn't know whether to be happy, sad, or mad. Dad, however, has chosen his: happy. He looks...excited even.

"Your father has some news for you," she, almost spits the words, but it's all wrong because she's smiling.

"Kids, I got a promotion," he said smiling, so hard I can see the wrinkles on the side of his eyes and the lines around his mouth. I still don't get, what the big news is? Does that mean we're going on a trip? Like always, Elsa got it first, clapping and leaning over to hug Dad.

"Oh, Daddy, that's wonderful!" She exclaimed.

"There's more," Mom told Elsa, as though she wanted her to wait for the punch line.

Dad cleared his throat, looked down at his hands, and then to me. "Which means, we are moving," he said. I still don't get it.

So I looked to Mom for a clue, but she remained unreadable, Elsa appeared excited by this news, and Dad just looked to me. "Easton, what do you think about that?" He asked, but I don't want to tell them how confused I am.

So instead I ask, "When?" Thinking whatever it is must be happening soon.

"Well, we are planning on renting the house to get a little income for it, so we need to look for renters, and we already found a new house for us to live in." There it is the explanation, we're getting a new house, like an upgrade, but why? What's wrong with the house we have now? "I'm putting together the dates and we should be seeing potential renters soon, Uncle Rob's bringing by a For Rent sign tomorrow, so I need you two to clean up your rooms."

"Why?" I asked him.

"Because we would scare away possible renters if they came into the house and saw what it looks like, so I'm going to run to the store and pick up some boxes."

Just like that my little box, hugging me in comfort, was gone. It only took a week and a half to find the new renters, Mom likes to call them squatters, whatever that means. Dad says the family is really nice, I haven't met them because I've been too busy taking down my posters, packing my baseball cards, and removing all evidence that this is my room.

Yesterday, Dad showed us the new house, which is on a hill on the opposite side of the highway, "About a ten-minute drive from the old house," Dad commented, saying "we can see the house whenever we want". The new house is twice the size of our house, doesn't have blue trimming around the windows or roof, instead, it's white; all white. Instead of rocks lining the house, there is grass, bright green grass. There's a basketball hoop above the garage door that Dad told me he put up the day before.

We got out of the car and Dad pointed to the window just on the left of the hoop, "That's your room," he told me patting my back. "Go check it out, your mom and I are going to get these boxes here," I looked over at Mom, who smiled her real smile. She is starting to come around to the idea of moving, it seems. I followed the trail of pavement to the door that was made for this house, for it was just as massive. I pushed on the silver handle and entered the house to the stale smell of new.

I took in the three large gaps in the living room walls. One seems to lead to another living room space, another to a dining room, and the last one to the kitchen. To the left of me, I found a staircase. I walked straight up until I reached the end of the stairs. My best friend, Lance, has a staircase, and at the top, he has another whole house, but at the top of the new house, I found six doors all around me. I decided to start with the one straight ahead, which turned out to be a closet. The door to the right of that is a bathroom, following a giant room that must be Dad and Mom's. On the opposite side are three more bedrooms. Dad had said mine would be the one on the left of the hoop, looking out the window in the first one; I found the hoop. This is it, my new room. It's similar to my old room in only one way; it has four walls, but it also has two more doors, one that leads to the bathroom and the other to a closet. It's also three times the size of my old room.

Then, I hear the light sound of Elsa's music coming from down the hall. She's farther away I thought to myself. The room is like an island.

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T o   b e   c o n t i n u e d . . .