The Jeweled Box

Chapter 2: The "Official"

Chapter 2: The "Official"

            I shook her hand and nodded. Judging by the Mengellie’s faces, this was supposed to be a highly serious matter.  And so I decided to make a totally non-serious greeting.

            “So guys, what’s up?” I asked in my best, totally-bored-extremely-annoyed-teenager-who-really-is-not-interested-in-anything-you-could-possibly-say voice.

Calvin Mengellie quirked an eyebrow, amused.  Mrs. Mengellie and the lady just ignored my little introduction.

            “What a lovely necklace you have,” said the lady, smiling sweetly, her voice dripping with a synthetic, sugary sweetness. “May I see it?”

            “No,” I replied sternly, but politely. I reached up to touch the necklace, realizing that the deep blue sapphire butterfly was covering the soft, velvety pouch containing the stone once again.  That’s strange, I thought.  I thought the necklace and the stone box thingy was under my pillow…

            “Give it to me!” she said forcefully, reaching for the butterfly pendant hanging from my necklace.

            Out of self-defense, I stepped backwards, slapping and accidently tripping her with the edge of my fuzzy, pink house slipper.  She fell toward the ground in what seemed like slow motion. The strange lady tried to catch herself, but she stumbled over Nella’s knitting string-- the one I like to call the tripping string because I am the only one in the house that trips over it on a daily basis. Calvin had a bag of frozen peas ready for her, looking quite amused of the situation. He began explaining to her that my necklace was sentimental to me, all the while Nella looking at me disapprovingly. As far as I could see, if it came to physical combat I could squash that little blond lady like a bug, by accident or not.

            “Let’s all sit down and eat the meal.” suggested Nella hesitantly.

           When the woman noticed the bag, she turned beet red and began to fume.  However, she swallowed her embarrassment, poofing her blond hair back into shape, holding the bag of frozen peas to her head. The frozen vegetables made the scene so comical, I couldn’t contain the amused giggle I had been dying to let out. The lady began to introduced herself and named her purpose, completely ignoring me.

           “I apologize,” she said, not looking sorry at all.  “I haven’t introduced myself. My name is Evaree M’Caw. It’s pronounced ‘EVE’, like Christmas Eve, ‘R’ like the word ‘are’ and the long ‘E’ sound,  , thus Evaree,” she said slowly, as though she was talking to a toddler. “Anyway, I am a government employee who was hired by your great, great aunt, twice removed, Ellena. We have been searching for you since that tragic hurricane, or in other words, since nine years ago.”

            “Eleven years,” I corrected, grimacing at the thought of that horrid afternoon.

            “Excuse me!” pronounced Evaree dramatically, “I think I know how to count!”

            “Well, pardon you. Maybe if you had gone to preschool, you could count eleven years from 2002 to 2013.”

            There she sat, like a young child learning that she was wrong for the first time. She looked kind of confused, and I had to hold my breath to restrain from saying, ‘See, I told you so.’ Much to my disappointment, she quickly got over her small shock and insisted, “I meant to say eleven. Just simple error of word choice.”

            “Sure,” I mumbled under my breath.

            “Your aunt and I have been very worried about you,” she continued,” In fact, your aunt and I had doubts to whether or not you were even alive!”

            Being my skeptical self, I did not believe that this “government” person about this mysterious “aunt” my parents have never told me about. Even if I did believe her, then I would still wonder if why she never contacted me.  After all, my parents had always told me we had no relatives in the U.S.  As I stuff myself with pasta, not trusting myself to say something polite, Mr. Mengellie beats me to the question and attempts to make small talk by asking, ”So, which branch of the government are you from?”

            Evaree looks dumbstruck, absolutely caught off of guard, as she replies,” Oh you know the important one…”

            “Which one is that?” I said, eagerly waiting to see if this stupid lady actually knew.  Eagerly awaiting her answer, she mumbled it so quietly that a mouse wouldn’t hear it. All that I could hear was,” La gu ga…”

            The orange juice I was drinking shot out of my mouth, across the table and landed in Evaree’s face, clothes, hair and food as I trumpeted with laughter. As the flustered Evaree fumed in rage, Mocha, almost completely covered in dust and dirt ran up and began licking her face.  I had forgotten Mocha LOVED orange juice.  I giggled hysterically at the funny scene before me, earning me a harsh, disapproving glare from Nella.  However, I got the impression that she felt the just as amused as I did.

            “Since these people aren’t your relatives,” Evaree snarled, tossing poor Mocha off of her, “you will be moving to your Aunt Ellena’s house in Sebastopol, California.  And I was going to give you two weeks to move; now it will be only one!”  I looked at her, dismayed.  California was all the way across the country!  California will be much different than Florida, I thought gloomily.  I picked Mocha up, stroking her soft, silky fur, suddenly miserable as what she said set in.

            “And you are allowed to bring your stupid dog!” she sniffed indifferently.