I Am My Own Cousin.

Chapter 4: Little Shop of Kennedy's

"It would fun to live in a storm drain. They have huge concrete ones in big cities that could comfortably house all of us. " Dad said dreamily. This came out of the blue while we were having dinner. Dad and Mom sat on the worn out couch, we five girls sat in the floor taking up every inch of a coffee table, and baby Justin was squished into his high chair. We had been eating in complete silence. Dad was strict about meal times he didn't permit watching television, talking, fidgeting, scraping the plate, slurping, or accidents. He ran a tight ship when it came to discipline and manners, we were like the Von Trapp children.

The comment about living in a storm drain was met with a long silence. I imagined myself fighting crime while living in a storm drain, like the Ninja Turtles. I would be Jacquiangelo and my weapon of choice would be Nun chucks. Mom interrupted my daydream speaking in a soft drawl, "Wade you can't be serious?" Dad looked offended, "Why wouldn't I be serious?" Mom replied, "Because you can't move six children into a storm drain. It's gross." Now he spoke slowly like he was talking to an old senile person, "Storm drains are not gross Margaret. They do not move raw sewage, only runoff water, nothing is gross about water now is it? We would have plenty of dry space on the sides to put furniture. We could make a garden on the outside and live off the land. Think how much money we would save on rent, electricity, heat, and groceries?" "What would we do in the winter time?" Mom asked. "We could put up tarps over the entrance and build a fire to keep the heat in." he replied, obviously he had thought about it before mentioning it. "There is no way I am ever going to live in a storm drain", Mom said. "Last week you wanted to live in a tent, the week before that it was a cave. What's wrong with this trailer? I am not going to live anywhere without heating or plumbing."

A few months later Dad called a family meeting in his TV and VCR Repair shop, situated in a small strip mall. It had two large front rooms where he worked two bathrooms, a kitchenette, a small office, and a large area in the back for storage. Mom had been sullen after the storm drain conversation and sat silently with her arms crossed, glaring at the wall. We older kids had been speculating on the reason the meeting had been called. The most popular options were another pregnancy or us finally being allowed to go back to public school. Dad had promised us that after a year of homeschooling we could go back to public school if we didn't like it. When the first year had passed we unanimously decided we would rather be in public school, but he had refused to let us go back.

"I have a big announcement to make", Dad could barely contain his excitement. "We are moving to Hollywood next week!" We were all awestruck. After a minute of silence I collected my jaw from the floor "We are moving to California!?" Dad listened to us allowing our imaginations to run wild. "We can audition for movies!" Jessica exclaimed. "I always wanted to see the Hollywood sign!" exclaimed Jenni. We reveled in thoughts of movie stars, glitz, and glam for a few minutes before he clarified, "We are moving to Hollywood STREET." It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. "But THIS is Hollywood Street." Jennifer said. "Precisely" Dad smiled at how intelligent his girls were, "We are moving here, into the shop."

When Dad established his new business, RX TV &  VCR Repair, he had overreached financially. We were unable to afford paying rent on the trailer and simultaneously pay the overhead for the repair shop. After looking at different options he had decided the perfect solution would be to move the family into the back of the business. He would be able to remain his own boss, the family would have a rent free place to live, and he would be able to supervise our day to day life more closely. From his viewpoint it was a win-win for everyone. He explained to us that the living arrangement was only temporary, and it had to be kept top secret. No one outside of the immediate family could know about it. If the landlord suspected that an entire family lived in the back of the store we would get evicted, and have nowhere to live but the station wagon.