The Tunnel

Chapter 3

"I, uh, Nadie- dolls- mom- stranger." Amelia's conversation skills dropped to an all-time low. Her experience with one-on-one communication was limited to teachers and parents. The immediate shock of seeing Edmund was wearing off and the initial blushing came back, she could feel her cheeks growing warm. She was suddenly aware that she was still holding the dolls and dropped them suddenly.

"Hey! Don't treat Abby and Jenny that way!" joked Edmund. He walked towards her and picked up the dolls smiling at her. The way he smiled was kind of goofy; it was kind of a lopsided grin with his teeth showing. That was then when Nadie came back, running into the room.

"Eddie!" she shouted "You're home!" she ran at her brother and tried to give him a running-tackle hug but Edmund caught her mid-lunge and pulled her into his lap.

"You've got to be careful Nad!" his voice was full of concern. Nadie stuck her tongue out at him in response. She then caught sight of Amelia again and regained her enthusiasm 

"Eddie, this is my friend! Her name is-"

"Amelia, right?" Edmund interrupted.

"You know her?" "You know my name?" asked Nadie and Amelia simultaneously.

"Yeah, you were in my English class last year, right? You sat in the back corner." Edmund responded.

"Uh, yeah." Amelia was shocked. No one noticed her; yet this boy, one of the most well-known boys in the school, could remember her name from last year, even though she never talked. Her belt loop suddenly became a very interesting object as she looped her thumb through it, twisting it in circles.

 "I- I should go now." Amelia said awkwardly.

"But you just got here!" protested Nadie.

"Yeah, but, I, uh have homework I need to do." Amelia tripped as she was walking out the door and caught herself on the door frame. She paused awkwardly to wave to the two siblings and say bye, then walked quickly away. She glanced into the kitchen on her way out. She saw Nadie's mom on the phone. Her head was resting in her hands. Papers were scattered on the table in front of her. Amelia could not see her face.

"What does that mean?" she asked into the phone. Her head was bowed and her hair curtained in front of her so Amelia couldn't see her face "How low? Will she need a transfusion?" She paused for a moment. She started to quiver as if holding back tears.

"How soon?" she asked in a whisper.

Not wanting to intrude any further, Amelia hurried out the door.

Amelia tried the door to her apartment; it opened, so someone was home.

"Mom? Dad?" she called walking through the door frame.

"In here, hon!" her mom responded from the kitchen. Amelia walked down the hall and dropped her bag on the island counter. Her mom was working on her laptop at the dining table.

"Hi, honey. How was your day?" she asked looking up from her computer.

"It was fine." Amelia leaned over to give her mother a side hug. She had gentle brown eyes that were often filled with concern for her daughter. She saw how Amelia had withdrawn from her friends and even herself. She slowly watched as her daughter fell apart, not knowing how to stop it. She wanted to protect her but she didn't know what was hurting her. Amelia averted her mother's gaze and reached across the table and grabbed a banana.

"Daddy should be home in about an hour, so we'll eat then, ok?" she called after her daughter as she retreated.

Laying down on her bed, Amelia reflected upon the day. Most days, she would curl up under her covers and sleep, ending the day as soon as possible. The usual desire to clench the muscles her in face was not present. Every frustration that would normally keep Amelia up until 2 am seemed insignificant to the day as a whole. Everything was held at bay by the past half hour.

Taking a deep breath and allowing her mind to empty of anything and everything, she rested her eyes and let her body to rock itself to sleep.  

            "Amelia! Dinners ready!" her father was home. Amelia slowly pushed not the comforters, not wanting to leave their warm embrace.

            "Coming." She mumbled, fully aware that he could not hear her.

She arrived in the kitchen to her mom pulling plates out of the cabinet.

            "Amelia, set the table please." Said her father, impatiently. She grabbed the plates from her mom and arranging them on the table. Next she took three of each table from the drawer and set it in the proper placement around the table.

            Her small family settled in at the table and gathered up their utensils to cut into the seasoned chicken breast that lay on each of their plates.

            "Did you reschedule that appointment for me like I asked?" asked Amelia's father to her mom.

            "Yes, it's now next Thursday at three thirty."

            "Thank you."

            "Amelia, did you get that math grade up? Your teacher emailed me today saying you failed the last test. What is that about?"

            "I'm working on it." She replied.

            "What does that mean? Have you brought it up or not?"

            "Not yet. I've been studying more though." She lied, attempting to avoid the disappointment directed at her.

            "Ok, well you need to keep at it. Colleges won't accept any GPAs under 3.5" He poked at a piece of broccoli with his fork and then moved on. "Karen we need to start on those tax returns soon."

            And just like that the conversation had speed off in an entirely new direction. With her dad there was not a moment to spare on the past or present. He was always preparing for events that were unseen to everyone else and was focused on his work.

            Once he had gone through his itinerary, they all settled into a customary silence filled only by the scratching of knifes against the plates.

            After dinner, Amelia cleared the table of all the plates and serving dishes while her mother wiped off the table and her father packaged all the uneaten food into Tupperware containers. The table now gleaming, Amelia drew back into her room for the final time for the evening.