An Envoy for the Lost

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Mary Ann Margaret Corsey, my caretaker's caretaker, or rather, my grandmother, referred to as Grandmother Mary, Ann or Margaret, respectively, was a stout woman, but of strong stature.

Currently, she had let herself in, was singing to herself in the kitchen, and upon closer inspection, was stuffing Beau Darcy, who was on the countertop, with bacon in short intervals. Her poodle terrier mix was looking on mournfully at her from the marbled kitchen floor.

Keenan had invited himself, and on the way we picked up Jayden, I was still in a trance. How would I handle this? Can I actually just become an ambassador? If I do, then how will my relationship with my family be affected. But really, at the back of my head was one gnawing sensation, I didn't ask for this, did I? Every citizen was taught to view the council membership as a legendary dream goal, but this isn't how I imagined my life to be. Things weren't going according to plan, and that iffed me.

Margaret rushed over to me and pulled me into a rib-cracking hug, though she was not very tall, my toes almost left the ground. "Oh! I'm so proud of you, I knew you would amount to something! And how is mon biquet doing?"

"Tired. Surprised. In need of a dear polecat . . ." I began heading to my room, with the intention of sorting out my thoughts, but was pushed along to the kitchen. From there, I could see into the living room, where the television was on. A montage of the different selected candidates was playing, it flashed to a photo of the twins, Eleanor, and . . . Elais? They were calm and confident, showing no signs of fear, or reluctance.

The television zoomed into a picture of me, from this angle, I looked small, and scared, like prey. Instead of broad shouldered, like the other candidates, I resemble a young doe, unsure on it's legs, looking for any source of endearment.

I didn't ask for this, flashed through my mind again. The commentators began flashing terse remarks, attempting to be humorous, ". . . and of the buffet of candidates, we have here our youngest contestant, Ms. Adriane Corsey, already a questionable choice with fans of the current ambassador. Many believe she is too young to handle this responsibility, while I just hope she keeps her fingers out of her nose, and doesn't cry for her caretaker at night!"

The other commentators forced out boisterous laughs, while I gritted my teeth.

I didn't ask for this.

Lighthearted conversation floated from the dining room, where Grandma was telling everyone for the umpteenth time about how I was assigned to Emrys, and the Corsey household.

". . . because, you see, I was in close contact with Emrys' parents before he was assigned, and we had discussions about his medical records, allergies, preferences, etc. So imagine how I felt when I found out Emrys had no idea who Adraine's parents were! Oh, and the first time I saw her! She was the most boisterous, pudgy thing I'd ever laid eyes on. And she was asian!"

Emrys interjected, "She still is asian, about forty-seven percent."

"Yes, but anyways, we had never had an asian Corsey before, imagine my reaction . . .'' Grandma continued. Everytime she tells this story, she states my ethnicity in the past tense, though I was and am still very much asian.

From the dining room, Jayden came over, and leaned on the countertop next to me. I stayed focused on the muted television.

"Hey," she whispered to me, "How are you?"

I swallowed once, twice, "Fine. Still asian."

Please don't ask me. I pray. If I admit that I'm terrified, then I might never be able to do this.