It's the sound of the rain that wakes me up initially. It's pouring outside, harder than it has in months in Phoenix Ridge. This makes me smile. As childish and naive as it seems rain is one of my favorite things in the world. It ranks right up there with my mother and sister and almost outranks my best friend Shane. Some days, like today it does.
“Rain.” my sister whispers in awe. She had crawled into my bed last night when the thunder began. I squeeze her close to me and she giggles.
“I love rain.” I state simply.
She wriggles out my grip and sits up.”But… not more than me right?” She inquires.
I laugh. “Of course not Norah. You’re my favorite sister!” I finally open my eyes and look at small girl before me. Her brown eyes are caressed in genuine concern.
“But Jolie I’m your only sister.” She whines. “Does that mean you don’t-“
“Norah!” I interrupt. “I was just kidding. Of course I love you more than the rain, you silly.“ She smiles in contentment.
I glance over at our clock, the time surprising me. The day’s gloom makes it seem earlier than it is. I also notice Mom’s mattress made up neatly across the room. Her tattered quilt is tucked perfectly around the edges of her ancient mattress.
“I didn’t even hear mom leave this morning… I hope she didn’t get too wet on her way to Admin.” I muse aloud. Concern floods Norah’s face again. She looked at me sadly.
“I didn’t even think about that….” Her quiet voice squeaks.
I regret mentioning it immediately. “Don’t worry Norah. She probably got a ride.” I lie but she knows better. My sister shrugs it off and clambers off the bed.
“Maybe.” She prances into the living room. Norah was right though. Mom probably hadn’t gotten a ride.
Admin: A huge mansion of a place, home to our triple region president and all his important employees and associates. A monument really, a place everyone recognizes and respects. The head of our nation. Shane told me they used to be called ‘White’ houses and in the old age, and there was only one. But then again everything was wrong in the old age. And that’s why everything is like it is now; Balanced, modest, and organized, as the presidents say. As you can imagine, Admin requires agiganticstaff. There's generally always an open spot on the janitorial staff which makes up over eighty percent of the ridges occupation. Unless you're taint, of course. The tainted don't work. If your lucky and know the right people, you may be able to manage a kitchen job. Our mother was extremely lucky in that way. Larry, the old kitchen manager was very close with our father before he died. When he found out Mom was trying to get a kitchen job to support the remainder of the family he did all he could to get her in. In the end, Larry purposefully burned one of the presidents meals which slingshot Larry back to kitchen manager and mom into the position of head chef. We owe so much to him. Larry isn't even from the Ridge and he gave up a lot for a tiny family like us. He treats us with a sense of respect, which is refreshing. Nobody from the ridge has ever been the head of anything, and now that my Mom is, the Ridge has something to be proud of. The Ridge folks were about the only people who were happy about it though. All the ’out of ridge’ employees at Admin find our village bluntly pathetic compared to their large homes. It's an unsaid insult to them to even travel into our Province each day for work, let alone working under a worn down widow of Phoenix Ridge. It's Ironic to them that something as important as Central Admin, headquarters to half the provinces of our country, was ridiculously placed in the forest of Phoenix Ridge. Important business people and respectable workers lived in the Province of our country, Owls Peak. They are used to concrete and noise. You will find neither here.
