To The Place I Belong

ETHAN

I had hardly typed a sentence when I began re-reading it for the fifth time in a row. What on earth has got to my head! Why can I not proceed with more than a line? Alright. I think am tired for today. My heroine can wait to meet her full description until the next time I am in mood.

It was 10 a.m in the morning, I got up from my study table only to look out of the window and while I stretched my arms I noticed that a huge truck with the label “Packers n Movers” had arrived at Mrs Susan Fletcher’s house. It was just opposite my house, only four houses away. What? Is she leaving the house? If so then there won’t be another joyous morning than this. I thought with a mirthful smile while eyeing the scar across my arm with caution. Time has healed it but left a scar as a reminder of how dangerous Mrs Fletcher and her great big Alsatian dog can be. It was awful. I was just 11.
I jolted at the faint memory of the experience. I and the old hag Mrs Fletcher never quite got along after she blamed all of her dear  dog ‘Cookie’s fault on me.  Never had I heard a name so deceitful.
“My dog? You mean Cookie? NEVER! He cannot have done it. I will bet and put at stake all of my world’s possessions.” She had said with a haughty air.
“But your dog has, and look at m’boy’s hand-”
“Oh well, then it was your bloke’s fault, isn’t it? I have seen him many times trying to trespass my property in the name of trying to fetch a ball…Don’t you try and dare do that again. I think he must have annoyed Cookie. Most of the children haul things at him and that’s when he goes mad. Otheriwse my Cookie” and she had given a really horribly pitiful look at the huge dog and said, “NEVER!”

Mum had resorted to deep distaste for dogs and I had loathed Mrs. Fletcher ever since. I also remember her saying, “Beware Eth, the dog is as deceptive as his name ”

Mrs. Fletcher is leaving…Big day, to be celebrated with Champaign. Besides, it would be nice to get some moments of soundless sleep in the night having taken the fact that her beloved ‘Cookie’s’ voice would no longer intrude a harmless innocent’s sleep. Also, there will be no hoarse voice hurling obscene languages at the children while they come to steal her garden’s ripe mangos in summer.

“You seem to be in deep remorse for you sweetheart’s departure…” the voice from the bed took me by surprise.
“Hey Eliza can’t you just knock in before you get into my room like that?”
“I beg your pardon my majesty, for I shall take full responsibility of NOT KNOCKING the door before I get in here, again” and her mouth curled up into a sly smile that said “don’t you dare pick up a fight with me or I shall call dad”.
She was flipping through the pages of a magazine with her legs dangling half from the bed while she lay flat on the bed. “What? Why’re you staring at me like that?”

I turned to face the window again and noticed another Ford car had just arrived. The man had already descended and tried to take over the keys of the house from Mrs Fletcher but was interrupted by a ‘gurrr’ sound. He bent a little to look at the Alsatian standing behind Mrs Fletcher and jumped at the sight. Next descended two women, a fat dark skinned, short haired , robust woman and a girl, quite pale in the skin looking thin and flimsy. Her hair was pulled up into a pony tail and she had a set stoic expression on her face, atleast that is what I could see from the distance.

“Hey Eliza, who are these new inhabitants, any idea?”
Eliza was almost lost in the world of the magazine she held in her hand.
“Eliza!”

Even then I went unanswered. I went across the room towards the bed and snatched away the magazine she had been reading with all her heart pouring in it.
“Hey!” she gave me a frown and got up instantly to snatch it back.
“I asked you something”
“What?”
“Who are these people, any idea?”
“I don’t know. Someone named Arthur Jones or something I don’t remember.”
“Who is that girl, supposedly his daughter…”
“I think Saliva- I mean Sylvia that is what I heard mum saying. And there’s supposed to be another woman named Jane. Now give me back that.”
“No, you are a girl of twelve, you aren’t supposed to touch things that belong to your elder brother…”