Breathe me Home | NaNoWriMo 2016

Chapter 2

The cinder block housing reminds me more of a prison than a home. I push open the door to our house, which is joined to another house, so it's really a duplex, but I still call it a house. I'm immediately assaulted by the sounds of Checkers & Pogo emitting from the television. Man I hate that show. But it's better than when Dad turns on the news. Nothing but Vietnam and the election. Dad says President Nixon will pull us out of the war because he wants to get re-elected. It seems impossible. The war has been going on for as long as I can remmeber.

My little brother sits cross-legged in front of the TV, his Bozo the Clown doll clutched in one hand. "Stacy!" he yells when he sees me. "Come watch Cheggers 'n Pogo with me!"

I'd rather eat sand on the dog beach. But Ricky loves it, so I tolerate it. "Can't buddy. Got homework."

"I never have homework."

"That's because you're only in kindergarten. Just wait."

"I can't wait to have homework! Is it fun?"

"Loads." I wander into the kitchen, where Mom is sitting at the table, flipping through an Avon catalogue.

"Hey sweetie," she says without looking up.

"I need a ride, Mom." I drop my notebook on the table. "I have a project to do."

"What sort of project?" She dog-ears a page with different color eye-liners. I do not look forward to wearing makeup. As if I don't have enough to do to get ready in the morning.

I tell her about the interview with a native Hawaiian. "We have a month to complete it."

"A month?" Now she makes eye contact. "And you want to get started right now?"

Mom doesn't believe in doing today what you can put off till June. "Well...yeah." Now it seems ridiculous.

"Tomorrow's Saturday. Why don't we head out in the morning to find you a Hawaiian. They're pretty easy to find 'round these parts."

"Funny."

"Besides, your dad has the car. He switched duty with somebody, so he'll be home tonight."

Dad never switches duty unless there's some sort of family emergency. I wonder what's up. And I didn't notice the car missing. How could I? We have a parking lot in front of the duplexes. If this were a real home, I would have noticed the empty driveway, at the end of which would sit our faithful dog. Flowers would bloom along the sidewalk because planting them wouldn't be a waste of time.

Okay, I suppose Mom still planted flowers. She was thrilled with the Birds of Paradise that would only grow on an island one point three billion miles from civilization. They look like big orange beaks, ready to snap at me when I walk out the front door. Montana doesn't have Birds of Paradise, but it does have snow. And horses. And deer.

Hawaii has lizards and centipedes big enough to require a license plate.

"We'll make a day of it," Mom says. "Maybe we can go to the beach after you find your victim."

Oh yay. The beach. "I'll bring my burka."

"The beeach!" Rick screams from the living room. The kid can tune out every word in the English language except for the few that bring him joy. He loves the beach. Sure, he's got brown hair like Dad's. He's been bronzed since he was three, when we first moved to Pearl City.

"We have plenty of sunscreen." Mom goes back to her catalogue.

"I think that only speeds up the cooking process, like basting a turkey."