3 comments

Contemporary

The wind blew in her face while the heavy transit whispered, "You are late." The girl had promised to arrive home early that day, but things had not gone as planned at school. She was cycling fast. Her legs were hurting, her heart was racing, and she was thinking about the homework she still had to do, the time she had spent talking to her friends, and any possible excuse to give to her father, but she knew there was none. At least, not a credible one.

When Queen arrived at the iron gates at the back of the house, she took the keys out of her jeans pocket so quickly that they fell into the other side, where the two dogs were happily waiting for her to play. 

"No time to play, no time to play!', she said aloud while trying to pick up the keys and hold the bike handle.

'Isn't it late?" she heard from the kitchen window. There he was, Dad. Not in the best of moods.

"I have called and texted you. Were you so busy you couldn't reply to any of those?"

The girl stumbled but finally picked up the keys and tried to open the door. The dogs did not help. When she finally managed to open it, they jumped into her, and the bike fell to the floor just two seconds before she did as well.

"I did not hear the phone, and I did not see the texts. I am sorry", replied Queen, lying on the floor and trying to recover from the clumsy fall.

"I will be late for the meeting with your brother's teacher…. It is always the same: I don't hear, I don't see, I don't know…. I expect more from you!"

"I am sorry," she said, "I did not realize…"

"It is too late now to discuss it. We will speak about it later. I need to leave. Your brothers already had dinner. Yours is on the countertop in the kitchen. We will talk later…" said Dad, picking up the keys and leaving to the front door.

Queen nodded and stayed right there until her father was out of sight. She sighed, took a deep breath, and stood up. She then took the bike to the shed and, in the company of the two big black dogs jumping and looking for playtime, entered the house, where her two brothers played video games.

"You are late," said Leo, the middle brother, while blasting the controller's buttons in the middle of a zombie apocalypse about to happen on the screen.

"We had ice cream!" screamed Sun, the smallest one, while trying to keep up with his brother.

"I don't care," replied Queen, "I need to do the homework. You need to go to bed in ten minutes, okay?"

"Sure, sure," replied the two brothers, smiling at each other. 

That was not their plan. Dad would take more than that to return home, and they were about to use every possible minute to conquer the zombie-occupied city.

The girl was tired and disappointed in herself. Once more, she would have to explain to Dad what she was doing, whom she was seeing, the time, the weather, and whatever else could be on the menu. Nothing seemed to be correct, ever. She noticed the full laundry basket next to her bedroom door. She had forgotten to take it downstairs to the laundry room that morning, so now she would have to do it. "This used to be easier," she thought while picking a sock stuck between the bed and the wall and putting it with the rest of the dirty clothes. Her bed was messy, the floor had seen cleaner days, and papers were spread everywhere. A few unfinished drawings were taped to the wall, and some post-its with ideas had been pinned on the corkboard for so long that it already seemed old and boring. She picked up the basket and dragged herself down the stairs. The two boys were screaming at each other and the screen, and she continued walking to place the dirty clothes next to the washing machine. The basket was full, so she put the clothes in the machine, but that one was also full. One more breath. She took one of the empty baskets on the shelf and unloaded the clothes. It smelled a bit funny, which made her think about when the washing had been done for the last time, but she decided not to spend too much time on it. She put the dirty clothes in and two detergent capsules. She would later hang all the wet stuff to dry. Left the laundry and went to the living room:

"Guys, please. You need to go to bed," the girl asked in a tired tone.

"You cannot make us," said Sun, with a big smile, "Dad is not here!"

"I know, but he left me in charge, and if you don't do it, we will all get screamed at later."

"I don't like you!" said Sun, now blowing a raspberry to her sister.

"I am tired anyway," replied Leo, "I'm going to bed."

"But I want to play!" continued Sun, now annoyed for having the older siblings against him. "I don't like you either!"

'I don't care", replied Leo, leaving the controller in front of the TV and taking off to his room.

"Please?" asked Queen to Sun, looking for mercy from her baby brother.

"Will you read a story for me?"

"It's late…"

"Pleeeeease?". He looked at her with those big brown eyes in such a lovely way that she could not say more than…

"Okay, let's go… but only one."

"Not two?"

"One!"

"Okay…" with a big smile, the little one ran up the stairs, and she followed. She had been in the house for less than ten minutes and was exhausted. In her brother's room, Leo was already reading a comic on his bed and got annoyed when he realized her sister was about to read out loud.

"That's for babies. You can read yourself!" said Leo from his bed while Sun was dressing in his pajamas. 

"I like it when she reads," he replied, realizing he had just dressed the top reversed while staring at the label confused.

"It's okay; it will be a short one. Don't be like that," she said, looking at the top of the loft bed, where Leo was rolling his eyes first and covering his face with the comic later.

"This one!" Sun almost smashed the book on Queen's face. "How Santa works."

"C'mon, it isn't Christmas!"

"Pleeeease," this time, her brother's brown eyes seemed almost cartoonish, so big and bright...  

"Okay, let's go for it."

"Really? Again?" complained Leo from his bed.

"Just once more," replied Queen, giving both her brothers a forgiving look and opening the big blue book, which had already been mended a couple of times on the cover and the pop-up figures inside.

When the reading finished, both boys were asleep. She closed the book and put it aside in the full and busy bookshelf. She covered Sun with the duvet, gave him a little kiss on the forehead, and whispered to his ear:

"Let's sleep, let's dream… the beautiful things we like the most." That's what Mum sang for him when he was a baby. Queen and Leo had listened to it so often that it seemed appropriate to sing it now that she was not around.

Leo's arm appeared, hanging outside his bed, a clear sign of him being ready to sleep. Queen smiled, stood up, walked towards him, raised her hand, and grabbed his hand. They stayed like this for a while, and when she felt no more resistance in his hand, she knew he was finally asleep. "Mission accomplished. Time to grab a bite and do some homework", thought the girl. She left her brothers' room and moved downstairs, where Salt and Pepper, the two dogs, were waiting for her. She had forgotten to ask if anyone had filled their plates, so she did it, and while doing so, she thought that they seemed a little bit bigger than they used to be. Well,— she thought— if they are full, they will not eat it again, right? It took only thirty seconds for the two Labradors to finish their food and look back at her as if that had been only an appetizer. Still, she knew she was not supposed to overfeed them, so she left them in the corridor with their tilted heads and confused looks. It was time for her to eat, so she went to the counter where, as Dad had mentioned, something was waiting for her. There was a pizza box. She put a couple of slices in a dish, poured some milk into a glass, and moved to the sofa, where she sat with the plate on her lap while looking for the television remote control to try to catch up on one of those shows her friend had mentioned earlier.

After just two bites of the pizza and no success finding the remote control, she heard the sound of the keys on the front door, and Salt and Pepper jumped from their nap and ran to the hall. Dad was home.

"Queen?" he asked from the doorway

"I'm here!" she replied in the middle of a bite.

He entered the living room, looking tired and defeated. He walked towards the sofa, sat on it, and stared at the television.

"Did you have a good day? "She asked.

"You were late," he said.

"I'm sorry," she replied.

They looked at each other, but nothing more was said. Dad found the remote control under one of the pillows and turned the television on. They stayed there for a while, with the sound of some silly talk show as background and nothing to tell each other until she said:

'I need to read a bit and rest. Have a good night."

"Good night." He replied.

Queen took her plate and glass to the kitchen and petted Salt and Pepper on her way out of the living room. Dad was staring at the screen, but she was almost sure he was not looking at it. He was just there, sitting. Upstairs, the boys were deeply asleep. Queen went into her room and sat at the desk. The table was covered with books, some makeup, craft supplies, and Lego pieces that Sun had left before. She tried to make space for the keyboard and switched on the computer, removing the socks while waiting for everything to appear on the screen. Her boots had been hurting her feet in the last few days, and she needed to give her toes some space. Then, there it was, the desktop ready and a blister on her toe. There was still homework to prepare for the next day, so she went through it as quickly as possible. "Work hard to keep all the doors open," she thought, remembering what Mum and Dad used to tell her every time she struggled to keep the rhythm with school, friends, and activities. She was good at school, and her social life was not huge, so it was tough for her to hear comments about how to work harder or better focus when all she felt was that every day was the same. Queen just had to remain that way. When she finished everything and finally sent one of the assignments to her teacher, she stared at the icons on the desktop. It was a mess, but not because of her. That computer used to be Dad's first and, later, Mum's support for some of her work. She had gained the right to that computer and her bedroom, formerly known as "the office," a few years before, together with its messy desktop and terrible filing system. She was allowed to create her own folders and to use them but under no circumstance to clean or organize her parents' contents. So, it was messy. She was tired but bored, so she clicked on one of the storage drives and looked at the different folders: home, school, taxes, and no_title.

"No_title"? - This was not here before, she thought.

It was not rare to discover new things around the screen occasionally after her parents had to revisit something on that computer. Still, that night, the mysterious title caught her attention, so she decided to investigate. Queen opened the folder. There was only one document on it, so she opened it. Pages started to load, and she scrolled through them, finding chapters... many chapters. It seemed to be a book, but there was no title. There were no pictures either. She looked at the time: it was already late, and she should go to bed, but those pages seemed too interesting to leave them there, so she stood up and went to the door. Noises were coming from the TV downstairs. Dad was probably asleep, and if that was the case, she had a chance. She decided to read a bit before she had to go to bed. She returned to her desk, sat on the chair, scrolled back to the first page, and started reading the first page:

My father was a pirate, and my mother was a sad girl locked in a tower. He traveled the world looking for adventures, and she dreamed of a glamorous life far away from everyone's expectations. One day, he found her, and their lives stopped. For a while, there was nothing else but them, and then, I came to the world to wreck his adventures and her dreams, but only for a bit. Because pirates never become gentlemen, and sad girls seem to despise happiness. 

I grew up living with a strong woman, and for as long as I can remember, she told me to be strong and independent and never fall in love. Because one thing is to be sad, and the other to be weak. The first can happen, but the second is not allowed. Never.

I became an adult with two different role models: the parent who would suffer whatever was necessary to keep going and the other who would strive to enjoy every step of the way, no matter what or who was on his path. I became the person I am thanks to them and because of them. I loved her and hated him. I resented them both when I discovered the sad truth: nothing is really what it seems, and no one is as good or bad as they pretend to be. My mother was not so strong, and my father lost himself looking for adventures.

Many years have passed since I felt myself truly. These days, I am trying to figure out what to feel and what to tell those who matter. I have yet to learn how. One day, someone will discover my secrets and weaknesses, and what will I do then? What will I become? Will the world collapse as my mother thought, or will it free me as my father believed? Looking back, I am satisfied that I am not like them, but I am not happy. I've powered through life, always wanting more: do more, learn more, show more. It kept me busy. It consumed my life. So, what do I tell my children? What do I teach them? How do I tell them what I am going through and what will happen in the following days? 

Queen laid back on her chair, looking at the screen, reading once more each and every word on the screen. Her mother had left the house a week before, and no one had told the children where she was. Grandma had stopped calling, Dad had stopped speaking, and the kids had not dared to ask. Was this file the answer to all her questions? Was her mother trying to communicate with her? 

It was cold in the room. The window was still open. The girl stood up and moved the curtain when a soft breeze blew on her face. "Winds of change," she thought. She closed the panels, sat on her desk, and continued reading.

March 06, 2024 14:27

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3 comments

Patrick Druid
22:29 Mar 13, 2024

There's a certain amount of, sadness to the story. Sort of makes a person want to find some way to give everyone a morale boost. Good descriptions. I suspect that if Queen had arrived on time, her father would have found some other reason to complain.

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09:53 Mar 14, 2024

Thanks for your feedback Patrick. Indeed, that”s how Queen sees the world as well, as if nothing she did was ever good enough… this belongs to my first manuscript so I am happy it can trigger some thoughts already 😊

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Patrick Druid
13:12 Mar 14, 2024

Glad to read it! Somewhat relatable too

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