Fish: Chapter 2

Mimi rediscovers a part of her past

That night we had some kind of unidentifiable fish.  We always have fish at Gram’s.  In Hansing, everyone either knows how to fish or how to hunt.  I guess this makes things hard for me considering the fact that I’m a vegetarian.  Trust me; it is very difficult to convince your grandmother that no, you don’t want to try even a little pinch of her delicious food because you don’t eat meat anymore.

            “Nonsense, Mimi,” She argued.  “You need to put some meat on those bones!” 

            “Gram I don’t eat meat anymore,” I said for the millionth time, rolling my eyes.    

            “Oh Mimi, for heaven’s sake!”  And Gram handed me a heaping plate of fish.  I fed it to her dog under the table.  At least he’s good for something. 

            Gramps grunted through a bite of fish.  He never really talks, just grunts or mutters.  I honestly don’t think I’ve ever heard him speak a full sentence.  It doesn’t seem to bother Gram, though, which surprises me.  If I were to get married, I would want to spend the rest of my life with a person who could actually carry on a decent conversation.

            After the table was cleared, I knew that it was time to ask a very important question.

            “Gram, did you guys get a television yet?”  I held my breath.

            Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes…. I thought, crossing my fingers and toes. 

            “No, we don’t want one of those ridiculous devices in this house,” She answered.

            Damn it!

            “Those darn televisions are rotting you kids’ brains,” Gram smiled.  “Don’t worry, there will be plenty of things to keep you busy.  Just you wait, you’re going to have so much fun meeting everyone tomorrow!”

            “Oh, I can’t wait,” I said.  This time, my voice was dripping with so much sarcasm that Gram must have noticed.  I guess I felt a little mean about it, but I was in such a bad mood, that I didn’t even apologize.

If it were anywhere else, I would be excited to meet new people, but I had heard so much about the citizens of Hansing, that I felt like I could already recognize them all by sight.       

Gram only has two topics that she likes to discuss in ordinary conversation.  Her first and favorite is ranting about her health problems to anyone who will listen.  This gets old very fast, so her second choice is to gossip about her neighbors. 

            I know about everyone and all of their private business and their personal problems.  I know all of their kids’ names, their parents’ names and even their pet hamsters’ names.  It makes me wonder whether or not Gram tells them all of my secrets.  Not that she knows any of my secrets, but she did see me through all of the awkward stages of childhood.  I don’t want any embarrassing baby stories floating around Hansing.  Wouldn’t that just be the cherry on top of a perfect summer?

            Finally, I escaped.  I told them that I was going to “settle in.”  I was actually going upstairs to sulk.  At least, I thought I was going to do that, but when I got to my room I couldn’t just sit there.  Somehow, I had to get as far away as I could from the house.

            I unzipped my suitcase and rooted around inside, looking for something to occupy myself with.  It was either find something to do, or sneak out the window. 

My hand hit the cover before I saw it.  The instant the book touched my hands, I knew what is was without even having to look.  It was my old sketchbook.

            I opened it.  It was tattered, worn and paint splattered.  The cover was decorated with tear stains, food stains and even a few blood stains.  I hadn’t even looked at it for the entire past school year.  I had thrown it onto the floor of my closet without even a backwards glance.  It was filled with the memories of things I just wanted to forget. 

            I didn’t know why I had felt the urge to pack the book.  Maybe it had been hidden amongst a pile of my clothes which I had thrown so haphazardly into the suitcase.  But in the back of my mind, I knew that I had packed it for a reason.  Now I needed to open it.  I needed to see for myself how much I had changed.  And maybe, just maybe, I could find the will to draw again.

            I flipped through the pages, thinking I wanted to see what I had so hatefully drawn just one year before, but when I caught I glimpse of one of the first pictures, I closed it with shaky hands.  I closed my eyes, took a deep breathe and cautiously flipped to a blank page and picked up a pencil.

            Inside my head, I cursed myself for freaking out over this little book of pictures. 

            It’s nothing.  I told myself over and over.  I am getting myself worked up over nothing.

            But I knew it wasn’t just nothing. 

            I put pencil to paper.

            And I drew… 

Reviews

[.shalynn.009.]

I have read two chapters of your book and I must say I am duly impressed. It is an interesting book and I like your characterization of Mimi. It is very well done through both dialogue and description. The addition of the sketchbook at the end of chapter two was nicely done and makes it suspenseful enough for me to want to keep reading. One little suggestion: "The instant the book touched my hands, I knew what is was without even having to look. It was my old sketchbook." I might think about revising this to "The instant the book touched my hands, I knew what it was without even having to look: my old sketchbook." Cutting up the two sentences makes it a little choppy, but this is just a suggestion from a friendly reader. I am enjoying reading this. Good job.