Day 159: Clementine, Chapter 18

"Where are we going?" Violet moaned, as she dragged her feet.
"House hunting." I snapped.
"It's hot." she replied.

I spun around, "Go home, then! I'll go by myself!" I shouted at her. She cocked one eyebrow at me and screnched her big blue eyes.

I turned on my bare heel and stomped off. It was quiet, but after a couple minutes, I heard her feet plodding slowly after me. I was glad. I didn't really want to be alone. I really wanted her to come. But I didn't want to go home because my Mom would be there, and I didn't know if she knew where Rose was. I didn't want her to ask me. I didn't want to know what they'd been fighting about. And I didn't want her to tell me.

What we needed was a new house.

So I rushed down the wide streets of the trailer park and past the brick wall that was the entrance to Meadow Brook, with it's burned out lightbulbs and flowerbeds that were tangled with weeds and pansies gone to seed. I turned left and kept walking for a really long time.

Violet didn't say anything. She sucked on her fingers, savoring sticky remnants of Twinkie. I marched past neighborhoods that I knew well, looking for something new. I wound past the busy streets of town and up into streets I'd never visited before. These weren't subdivisions. These were neighborhoods. The streets were lined with arching trees. The homes were made of brick--some of it so old that it looked crumbly. Perennial flowers were established, here. Door knobs were worn with coming and going. Old houses. Beautiful old houses.

I never let myself come wander these streets. As much as I could dream about a ranch home over in Willowmere subdivision, I couldn't even let myself imagine living in a home with old wooden floors, polished banisters, and narrow stairways. Houses like this weren't for people like us.

But today? I felt like that was just what my family needed. Maybe if we could live in that house, over there--the one with the wide front porch, then Rose wouldn't have to sleep in a closet sized bedroom and she'd want to be home more. Maybe.

Violet walked next to me as I slowed down. I finally came to a stop standing in front of a yellow house. It had a sharply peaked roof, gracefully curving stairs, and a wide lawn stretching to the road. Violet looked up at it and nodded.

"This is a nice one." she said. I sat down on the curb in front of it. "Yeah" I said "It's really nice."

And for the first time in a long time, I started to cry.

Day 156: Clementine, Chapter 15

I knew Rose was in trouble because my dad said "Hey, kid, why don't you go sleep in our bed tonight?"

Which meant only one thing--he was planning to sit in the chair in the front room and wait for her to come home, at which point he was expecting a discussion that probably wouldn't be conducive to someone who was sleeping on the couch.

I always felt like waiting up in the front room would've been so much more of an impressive gesture if he'd owned a shotgun that he could lay across his lap. A shiny, polished Browning rifle, catching the gleam of the streetlamp as the door slid open.

As it was, I knew he would be sitting in the chair with his latest book. The touch-sensitive lamp on to it's dimmest setting.

My mom had looked hesitant as she headed to work that night, sending meaningful backward glances at my dad. I was bursting to know what they were all fighting about, but I knew full well that my parents wouldn't tell me straight out. I would have to stay awake and catch the discussion, that was all. Or wait until Rose was in the mood to vent while we were brushing our teeth. She did that less and less, though, so eavesdropping was my best chance.

I took a long, cool shower, to kill time. I would splay my fingers and watch the water run off the tips in little arcs. I used one of the guest soaps that was shaped like a seashell. I shaved my legs for maybe the third time in my life. Then I stretched into a long-sleeved t-shirt and flannel pajama pants. I brushed and flossed my teeth. Twice.

I sighed. And looked at the little digital clock by the sink. It was 10:00.

I walked out to the front room and found my dad with his head bent over a battered copy of Egypt: An Economic Geography. He was a sucker for the giveaway bin at the library. I kissed the top of his head and he smiled at me absentmindedly.

"G'night, love. Sleep tight."
I nodded, "Sure, Dad. Good luck."
"Thanks, kid."

I walked down the narrow hall and climbed into the sunken mattress in my parent's bedroom. I turned off the overhead light. I stayed awake, for the longest time, listening to the soft sound of my dad turning the pages of his book. I was determined to stay awake until Rose got home, to find out what they were fighting about.

But Rose didn't come home that night.