Chapter 4 Aanya

Chapter 4 Aanya

            I get home from school around 3:30 and Brooklyn is there waiting for me.

            “How did you get home before me?” I gripe

            “I got a ride home from Kelly,” she replies defensively.

            “Very well,” I sneer, “By the way mom has to work late tonight and she put me in charge.”

            “What?” she cries, “but you’re always in charge. When can I be in charge?”

            “When you’re older than me.”

            “That’ll never happen.”

            “Exactly,” I boast.

            “This is so unfair,” she yells while throwing her face into a pillow on the couch.

            “Isn’t it though?” I say sarcastically, “when you’re done with your temper tantrum let me know so you can start your homework.” I walk into the kitchen rolling my eyes as I hear Brooklyn scream once more into the pillow.

            I enter the kitchen and throw my backpack onto table sit down and pull out my math homework.

            “I hate homework,” I whisper under my breath.

            After working on homework for about half an hour I feel my front pocket vibrate. I pull out my iPhone and look at the portion of the screen where I see a text from Harry reading: I think I need help doing my homework. I unlock my phone and reply: Then why don’t you come over here and get some help? I slide my phone back into my pocket and continue working as I wait for Harry to arrive.

            “Brooklyn!” I call, “Have you started your homework yet?”

            “Ugh! No!”

            “Then start it!”

            “I don’t want to!”

            “I don’t care!”

            “You’re not the boss of me!”

            “I thought we already established this? Mom put me in charge!”

            “Fine then!”

            “It’s like pulling teeth,” I murmur.

            Roughly ten minutes later I hear the doorbell ring and I let Harry in.

            “I love what you’ve done with the place Miss Tanner,” he says.

            “Why thank you,” I reply. “My mom’s working late so we have to stay downstairs so I can keep an eye on Brooklyn.”

            “Alright.”

            “We can just work in the kitchen.”

            “Okay.”

            “Wait one second,” I tell him, “Brooklyn!”

            “I know, I know, starting my homework!”

            Harry and I walk down the hallway into the kitchen where Harry sits next to me on my right.

            “So what is it you need help with?” I ask.

            “Everything but,” he looks up thinking of all the homework he has, “yeah everything.”

            “Let’s start with math since that’s what I’ve been working on.”

            “Sounds good.”

            I wait while he takes out his homework and puts on his glasses. Harry only wears his glasses when reading or doing things like homework, a lot like a middle-aged adult slowly going blind. “Alright old man, let’s get started,” I tease as he raises his eyebrow and glares at me in return.

            “What do you not understand?”

            “All of it,” he declares.

            “What part of all of it?”

            “The actual equations part.”

            “I see.”

            I continue to instruct Harry on all of his homework for quite some time until we’ve both finally completed all of our homework. I look at the clock and jump up in alarm.

            “Dang it,” I say.

            “What?”

            “It’s 8:30.”

            “Yes it is,” Harry says nodding his head slowly in a voice that implies that I might be stupid.

            “I was supposed to make dinner,” I proclaim popping up out of my chair and grabbing a pan and a box of macaroni and cheese from the cabinets.

            “Well I’m going to go now. Enjoy making dinner,” Harry laughs as he slips out of the house.

             All of the sudden Brooklyn appears out of nowhere and asks, “Aanya?”

            “What?” I demand as I turn the stove on in attempt to boil water.

            “Weren’t you supposed to feed me like two hours ago?”

            “Yes Brooklyn sorry. I lost track of the time, I was really busy doing my homework.”

            “Oh, I see how it is. You were just so busy doing homework with your boyfriend that you forgot to feed your own sister?”

            “First of all he’s not my boyfriend,” I claim, “second of all did you even finish your homework?”

            “As a matter of fact I did,” Brooklyn declares quite proud of herself.

            “Good. Now please leave so I can finish making dinner,” I command pouring in the macaroni noodles.

            Brooklyn starts to leave until she turns around and says, “Next time tell your boyfriend not to be so loud. I’ll never get that annoying laugh out of my head.”

            “He’s not my boyfriend,” I holler, “Now go watch TV or something.”

            “Alright, alright, I’m going.”

            I pull a spoon out of the jar next to the stove and begin stirring the noodles continuously so they don’t stick to the edges of the pan and end up being slightly harder than the rest of the noodles, I really hate that. While stirring the cheese I hear the rumble of the garage door opening and the sound of the car engine running as my mom enters the garage. A few seconds later my mom walks in and slams the garage door.

            “Hi sweetie,” my mom says.

            “Hey,” I reply.

            “Did you and Brooklyn finish your homework?”

            “We both did.”

            “Mom you’re home!” Brooklyn says cheerfully running into the kitchen and giving my mom a hug. “Aanya had her boyfriend over.”

            “Oh did she?” my mom asks my sister, but looks at me instead.

            “Yes she did,” Brooklyn claims.

            My mom turns toward me and folds her arms expecting an explanation. “Relax Mom, it was just Harry, Brooklyn’s just being stupid.”

            “Oh,” my mom says putting her arms down, her face returning to ease.

            I scoop the cheesy noodles out of the pan and put some in two separate bowls and say, “we were doing homework.”

            “It’s fine,” she breaths.

Harry and I have been best friends since Kindergarten so she was okay with him being over here when she wasn’t home, if it was any other boy however she would probably freak out.

“Why don’t you girls eat your dinner and go to bed. I’ve got some tests to grade,” my mom says.

“I’d help you but I have to read still,” I state.

“That’s okay sweetie I’ve got it, besides they were all multiple choice.”

Brooklyn and I grabbed a bowl off the counter and began eating. Brooklyn finishes and puts her empty bowl into the sink barely rinsing it out. I however still have half of it left and decide to just poor it down the garbage disposal.

I wash the dishes and head upstairs where I brush my teeth and put on my warm black and white polka dot pajama bottoms. I’m about to head into my bedroom until Brooklyn walks down the hallway and whispers, “Aanya?”

“Yes?” I answer.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Depends on the question,” I reply.

“Where’s Dad?”

I’m dead silent for a moment wondering if what I just heard was right. “What?”

“Where’s Dad?”

“Why do you ask?” I say quietly.  

“Well my birthday was last week and I didn’t get anything from him.”

“You’ve never got anything from him.”

“I know. But, I never wondered about it until now.”

“I see.”

“So, where is Dad?”

“I can honestly tell you Brooklyn, I don’t know,” I whisper. I continue to walk into my bedroom and close the door behind me, “I don’t know,” I whisper to myself.

I walk over to my bed and pull back the blue covers. I look over at my alarm clock, 9:00. “At least I have time to read,” I say. I pull To Kill a Mockingbird out of my backpack and open it up to Chapter 21. I continue reading where I left off, all about the trial of Tom Robinson. As I carry on reading I start to drift off and think about the conversation I had with Brooklyn. “Should I have told her what I knew?” I wonder. “Did I do the right thing just leaving it alone?” “Should I tell Mom?”

            I snap back into reality and close the book, “What’s the point of reading if I can’t even focus?” I ask myself. I lay in my bed a few minutes more until I finally get up and walk downstairs. I step silently into the front room where my mom is grading her students’ tests while watching TV. “Mom?” I whisper.

            “Yes sweetie?” she answers.

            “I thought I should tell you that Brooklyn asked me something.”

            “What’d she ask you?” my mom asks putting down her red pen and turning off the TV.

            “She wants to know where Dad is.”

            My mom looks at me and asks, “What did you say?”

            “I told her I didn’t know.”

            “Good. She’s too young to know right now.”

            “Well, Mom?”

            “Yes?”

            “I’m not sure even I know where Dad is.”

            “It’s not important.”

            “What do you mean it’s not important?” I say, my voice slightly increasing in volume.

            “You don’t need to know what happened to your Dad, you’re doing fine not knowing.”

            “But I want to know. I can handle it.”

            “Can you?”

            “Yes.”

            “It doesn’t matter, I’m not telling you.”

            “Don’t I have a right to know?” I yell.

            “No you don’t ! You don’t need to know! Besides, when has your dad ever started caring about you anyway!” she yells back.

            Tears well up in my eyes, I can’t believe what I just heard. I turn around and run upstairs crying.

            “Aanya! Aanya!” my mom cries, guilt in her voice, “Aanya I’m sorry!”

            I run into my bedroom, slam the door and lock it. I lean against the door and slowly slide down it; I can feel my eyes slowly getting red. I don’t usually cry, but for some reason I can’t seem to get the tears to stop coming. I hear my mom’s footsteps in the hallway, next thing I know she’s knocking on the door, “Aanya? Sweetie I’m sorry, let me in and we can talk about this.” I stand up slowly and unlock the door.

            I open my door just a little bit, my head poking out. I nod my head slowly and hop into my bed.

            “Aanya, I’m sorry,” my mom says subtly, closing the door behind her. “You’re right you do deserve to know, I just want to protect you by not telling you.”

            I nod my head again so she can see I understand, she sits on my bed next to me. “I need you to realize something sweetie. I can’t tell you what happened to your dad. But I can tell you that you will probably never see or hear from him again.”

            “Why can’t you tell me?” I whisper, my voice cracking.

            “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

            “I can handle it.”

            “Alright,” she begins, “first of all I want you to know that your father and I never got along. We always fought, even over the stupidest little things. You see sweetie, we knew each other for a week before getting married, because we just thought we were meant to be. We were young and foolish,” my mom says with a smile. I let out a small puff of laughter.

            “One day he left and I haven’t heard from him since.”

            “But one day,” I say, “I heard you talking to someone on the phone about what happened to him.”

            “Aanya, we don’t need to get into that.”

            “You said you’d tell me.”

            “I know what I said,” she speaks softly, closing her eyes. “But I’m not going to tell you. It’s not important.”

            “But-”

            “All you need to know Aanya is that your dad doesn’t care, and he never did.” My mom got up slowly and left my bedroom closing the door behind her.

            I pick up To Kill a Mockingbird off my nightstand and read several chapters before stopping. I put the book back on my nightstand and turn off my lamp. I pull the covers up to my chin, turn to the side, and close my eyes. All I can think about as I try to fall asleep is the last thing I read, “I think I’m beginning to understand why Boo Radley’s stayed shut up in the house all this time…it’s because he wants to stay inside.”