How to Raise an Assassin

CHAPTER 15: HELLO MR. MAYOR, MY FAMILY HATES YOU

Thank goodness my parents didn't walk in to wake us. I'm pretty sure my dad would've marked Ash for murder and my mom would've simply murdered Ash right on the spot.

When I woke up, Ash was still snoring. My hand was still around his arm. I gently rose from the bed and moved to get dressed. When I was done, Ash had awoken and yawned.

"TGIF," he said. "Volunteer day."

He was right. Every Friday we had no school so we could partake in life-experiences. For middle school kids that meant volunteering.

"Since this is my first Friday at the school," Ash said. "I'm not sure where I should volunteer at. Any chance you can show me the place you work at?"

I nodded and opened the door to the bathroom. "But first you need to shower."

"Why?" He asked as he went to smell himself. "I smell..." His body musk hit him like a punch from Mike Tyson. "Yeah I could use a good scrub."

He made his way to the bathroom. "But I don't have any change of clothing."

"I'll find some, you just wash off that smell I had to inhale all night."

Ash was suddenly quiet, no doubt embarrassed. He surprised me when he said, "Thanks for that."

I rolled my eyes, but of course he couldn't see that. "Whatever, just get in the shower."

He chuckled. "I'm already in my boxers."

I never thought I'd be thankful to have my eyes covered with my hair than I did at that moment. While he went to shower, I walked one door over to a room that had been vacated for three years now. I avoided coming into the room often because the memories were just too painful. But the blindfold prevented me from seeing the Dark Knight posters, the Chicago Cubs bed sheets, the Michael Jordan cutout, and Mike Ditka quote: You're never a loser until you quit trying.

I reached into a drawer; his clothes were still neatly folded as if he would someday return to this family from the land of the dead. I pulled out a shirt, some jeans, and socks, probably mixed up in various colors since I couldn't see. They might fit a bit baggy on Ash, but he was nearly close in size. Then a thought crossed my head. Why should I be giving Ash my dead brother's clothing? Was I disgracing the memory of Noa by doing this?

I thought about what Noa would say. The way he treated guests at the house was almost servant-like. His excuse, in Ancient Greece, guests had to be treated with the utmost respect, because you'd never know if they were one of the gods in disguise.

He was a nerd like that sometimes.

With the clothes in my hand, I closed the drawer and the door to the room, but not before whispering, "Thank-you."

***

My parents had left the house early for business matters. I was stuck with Lay and the house chefs who brought out the food. This morning, it was French Toast with a sunny side up egg and hash browns. We sat down and although the plate was already made for us, I struggled to work my way around the plate. I tried pouring syrup on the French Toast and ended up drenching my egg in it. I tried putting some ketchup on the hash browns but failed and hit the French Toast. It was a disaster.

Lay was snorting in disgust saying I was being unladylike and a complete slob like Ka.

Ash was too busy laughing, but stopped himself long enough to say, "Here let me help you."

I heard him fiddling with the food on my plate and then he said. "Open wide."

"No," I said trying to shoo him away. "I'm not a baby."