To The Place I Belong

SYLVIA

I waited till they gave up and disappeared into the bus. Sure enough, I was late, but if they decide to accompany me every single day of the year, to my college, my life is going to be miserable. Not that that it already isn’t but it’s going to be worse or so.
I don’t like crowd. I don’t like people to be precise. ‘People’ in my dictionary means ‘deception, hypocrisy and judge mentality ’. Of course Ethan isn’t of that kind, but what do I know of a boy whom I just met yesterday. He was the one for whom my dad is alive today and am grateful for that. Very grateful, indeed. That doesn’t certify that he will be different from the rest.

The next day I got out early, very early, like real early, to catch the bus, and I did not meet them before college.
How long do I have to keep running away like this? No idea. But they continue to be there, waiting for me, every single day. This goes on for a week. I have to toil to get away somehow, some days hiding behind a wall, and some days reaching college late. I am surprised by my own stamina. I keep deceiving them.

After a week, they give up. I felt a little light in college. Myra had been complaining I hadn’t been myself lately to which the only reply I can think of is: I am never myself. And when I am, people run away from me.
Dad had been back three days after the incident. I threw away all the cigarette packets. When dad tried to snatch or sneak one or two under his pillow in his bedroom, a vicious fight broke out in which Jane acted as the peace maker.
Next week Monday, when I returned from college at 5p.m after a trip with Myra in and around, I went straight up to my room, not having any energy left. I thrust my body on the bed with my leg dangling vertically from it. It’s when I woke up, I heard loud jeers, from down the stairs. Dad’s watching match but who else is with him? Jane never watches football matches. I got up immediately and paced across the stairs. In my sleep stricken eyes I could see a boy in royal blue shirt and dark brown hair seated at the sofa, beside my dad, drinking fruit beer and saying, “I think you will lose today Mr Arthur. I can see the champion cup already…”
From the voice I could recognise it was Ethan. Jane was busy doing something with the microwave. She noticed me and called out-“Hey Syl…Can you come here a bit” She sounded real busy and exhausted from something. But what the hell is Ethan doing here? How can someone be so persistent?

“Hi, persistent stalker” I called out to him while descending down the stairs.
They all were looking at me now, everyone except dad, he was still sitting with one hand fisted into a ball and another holding a can of beer.
Ethan’s lips curled into a smile. His face said something more, something of a sarcastic sort.
I went straight to Jane who started complaining incessantly of the age old micro-wave that needed replacement. This was true for some of its buttons were not working and it had some heating issues which need looking at immediately.
“I will ring up the electrician”
“Yes! Yes! It’s a goal! Did you see that? It’s a goddam lovely brilliant goal!” Dad shouted and rejoiced bouncing on the sofa like a five year old kid.
“Dad we need to ring up the electrician. Micro-wave’s not working”
“Goal! Did you see that Syl?” Dad was still brooding over the goal while Ethan was drinking his beer and saying “Dazz dwo…” he gulped down the beer and continued, “We’re still ahead.”
“DAD!”
“YES! SEEN? Didn’t I tell you?” This time it was Ethan who was throwing his hand victoriously in the air.
“More is yet to come, kid…”
“DAD! Do you hear me!”
All of it went unanswered and I was amused to see a man who had his recent hospital trip and had been diagnosed with SCLC(small cell lung carcinoma). He was growing into a kid. But I was surprised to see how quickly Ethan had actually gelled up with dad. I was satisfied, he now had a companion and would not at least regret over his fancy decision of  house-shifting.
I rang up the electrician who said it was his day off, and he would surely make it on Thursday.

The match ended with a draw. The two little kids kept on talking about scores and goals and Manchester team and some other teams, I had never heard of and sounded like Latin to me.
It was when the doorbell rang and I had to open the door, that I realised my happiness had evaporated into thin air. It was an unfortunate decision to open the door- Ben entered without further invitation saying “I heard my mate’s there madamoiselle…” and he gave a flirty smile.
Ethan got up immediately from the sofa saying, “Hey, wacha doin’ here?”
“Ethan, don’t be such a kid, how many times do I have to remind you about our pact?”
“Pact?” I asked thinking there was something serious going on.
Meanwhile dad had jumped up to greet Ben, and Jane rushed out forgetting all about her old trouble making micro-wave.
What a raucous! Great!
“Thanks for coming lad” dad roared happily giving mighty pats on Ben’s shoulder.
“What the hell is happening here?”
I saw the small packaging in Ben’s hand and suspected something I wish wasn’t true.
“Will someone answer me?”
“Bad manners, bad manners madamoiselle… You shouldn’t poke your nose in elderly stuff” said Ben with an air of superiority that ‘m sure bore a rancour expression on my face for everybody except Ben got anxious and started clearing away in all directions possible.
Dad remained where he was standing not because he didn’t fear my temper but because he was too lazy to move anywhere else just at the moment.
“Ahh Syl darling, I invited them for dinner. And guess what, these two boys were really eager. Mr and Mrs Smith were out on some annual day function for their daughter and Mr and Mrs Evans had some urgent work. What a coincidence it is. Isn’t it?” He smiled nervously.
Apparently Ethan had not known that it was dinner invitation as he looked pretty confused.
I went straight to the kitchen and filled up a glass of water. I gulped it down with such intensity that it hurt my chest. I didn’t know how else to dissolve my anger.  Why does he have to do all this?
“Neighbourly exchange is always healthy. Isn’t it Syl dear?” said Jane with sweat drop percolating her forehead.
“Mom cooked Jamaican rice-here you go” and Ben thumped the packet on the table. “You look dreadful, madamoiselle…”
“Don’t call me by that name. Who the fuck is madamoiselle here!” He was trying to put a hand over my shoulder and I couldn’t help but freak out-“Don’t you dare!”
“Okay lady! Cool down cool down. Take deep breaths and release them slowly. It will-”
I walked past him to the television and switched it off. Dad and Ethan rose up, at once. I ordered them “Its 7. At the table, immediately” I wanted to finish this business off quickly.
Our six seater table was quite comfortable for the lot where my dad acted as a humble host, and did everything to make the others feel warm.
Jane had cooked some delicious chicken recipe which I was far from enjoying as I was frustrated and my head was full with anger. I wanted to vent it out straight on dad but waited for the idiots to clear off.
“Ethan, so what do you like to do?” dad started with his never ending conversation and took pleasure in scrutinising the two, and so did Jane.
My mind trailed off and then I was brought back by a comment dad made, “You are brilliant, Ethan. Keep it up. Flourish.”
I found myself cutting him off midway saying “Of course he is, next to Ben, he must be sounding like a genius” I had no intention of offending Ethan but I had all the motive in the world to offend Ben, who took it as a mere compliment. Jane choked herself with food while my dad seemed flabbergasted.
God! How I wanted to piss Ben off. Once I start beating the heck out of somebody, there’s no stopping it. And that’s exactly the reason dad glared at me with his orb like eyes. Ethan was behaving very suave on the whole. No actually he was suave and he was giving a meagre smile whenever I roasted Ben at the table.