The Society of America

Chapter One

Maxine

I have never met my momma. I have. But it was when I was only a baby. She had to leave after that. My father says that she really wanted to stay but she was forced to go. I guess that's okay because at least she wanted me. My father told me that she stayed with me for six months after I was born. Six plus nine months of pregnancy is one year and three months. I am seven as of yesterday so that means that she missed six years and six months of my life. But that's okay because I have my father and Andrew, even though Andrew only visits once a month.

My father taught me everything I know. He told me that I can't go to school because the government doesn't like him and because we're not allowed to go out in public. He teaches me every subject, except geography, because he knows I hate geography.

Whenever Andrew comes by, he will give me something cool. The last time he came, he gave me a puppy, My dad didn't like that but Andrew told him that I needed a friend and that I was beginning to become "unfriendly" when he thought I couldn't hear. He thought that a puppy would make me happier and he was right. I named her Rose, because she destroyed one of my father's mugs that had a rose painted on it. My father had pretended that he hated Rose but I could tell he loved her because of the way he let her use his blanket when she was cold, even though he was cold too.

Me and my father lived off of food in cans and the occational cake that I got on special occasions. The only furniture in our house was two beds and a couch. We had a microwave and an oven too and bathroom in another room. Our home was big and empty and was all on one floor. The place was always cold.

My father's bed is too small for him, but he doesn't complain. He never complains. Not even when he doesn't eat so that I can have a bigger portion. I love my father so much. I love the way he laughs and when he tells me I've done a good job. I love everything about him. Well, amost everything. The only thing I don't like about him is how he never tells me anything about my momma. The only person who tells me things about her is Andrew. But who could know her better than the man who loved her? I know that she is very smart, that she worked for the military and that she was sixteen when she met my father. I know that she was the one to choose my name, Maxine. But I don't even know her name. However, I do know how she met my father.

One day, when my father was telling me a story I asked him to tell me something about her. "Please Father, anything!" I begged.

"What do you want to know?" he said, giving in to my repeated pleads.

"How did you two meet? When was the first time you saw her?"

He sighed, reluctant to share this piece of information with me. "I saw her on the television," was all he told me.

"Really? Why was she on the television?"

"She was being interviewed."

"Did you love her? Like at first sight?"

"Who told you about that?"

"I read it in one of the books you gave me," I tell him. "When did she first see you?"

"That's enough," and he tucks me into my bed.

"Did she love you at first sight?" I sneaked in one last question.

"I don't know," he started to look sad.

"Did you want her to?" I asked.

"Yes." And with that, he left.

I'll admit that I do not really know all of the details but it was enough for me. My father had looked really sad after all that questioning. It was probably because he missed her. Later that night he went near my bed to check up on me and when he saw that I was still awake, he gave me a picture of her.

She was so beautiful. She had hair the colour of chocolate and hazel eyes. She had the most wonderful smile framed with small dimples. Her eyes were what people called "almond shaped". She had a small bit of freckles on her nose and cheeks. In the picture, she seemed to be laughing but she had her hand in her hair like she was brushing it back. She was wearing a red and lacey shirt that popped against her fair skin. I remember looking at it for hours and then slipping in under my pillow, so that she could give me good dreams.

That night I dreamt about her coming home and lifting me into her arms to give me kisses, telling me that she was here to stay with me forever. My dad was in my dream to and he hugged her and gave her the kind of kiss that people did when they were in love, the kind on the lips. I took her inside the house and told her about me and introduced her to Rose. Her and Rose got along very well. She told me that she loved me and took me in her arms and placed me on her lap. I wish that this would actually happen. But it was just a dream. I still have this picture under my pillow, in hopes that I would have more dreams about her. It stays as a reminder of a wish, a wish that can never be true.