Family?

Brooke was stalking the town, pacing the streets in casual cutoffs, a white t-shirt, and keds. It was 6:30 in the morning, but the sun was covered partially by distant clouds, making the day bright but grey, almost. Her shoes pittered and pattered down the pavement, flying by all the slow pedestrians in her path. She was too excited to sit around her apartment and wait for her father and Silvia to arrive. They had called earlier this week, and promised her they would be coming into town this morning, around 10. But how could she sit still when the 2 people she had missed most in her life would be arriving again? She couldn't wait to her her father say “Bubblebutt” and to hopefully bake cookies with Silvia. She wanted to know all about Russia: how cold it was, the sights, the life, the people, and how it felt to ride in an airplane over the HUGE Pacific Ocean. Brooke had never flown in an airplane before, and it was a dream she sometimes had as a child to become an airline attendent and never touch the Earth again. She also wanted to know how these 2 people had gotten together to come see her, and what Silvia had been doing since her mother and herself cruelly left her when her father went on his business trip. I hope Silvia isn’t mad at us, She thought worriedly.

Veronica, Brooke’s mother, had said nothing about her husband and former maid coming to visit. When Brooke told her of the phone call, she paled and shakily said “How nice of them to find us.” That was all she would say on the matter. Later that day, Brooke’s mind kept tumbling over those words: Find us? Have we been hiding or something? But she pushed those thoughts away and focused on her happiness.

As she walked down Brownstone Boulevard, she saw an older man stumbling down the street in front of her, carrying a shopping bag with 3 cartons of cigarettes and 2 loaves of bread. The birds at his feet flew up twittering in protest when he lumbered through their flock. When she she approached, he tripped and fell. Compassionate as she was, she hurried over to him and helped him up. He slurred “Do you have a father?” Brooke was almost frightened, but it was light outside and there were people walking around. With no need for fearing the man, she said happily, “Yes! I haven’t seen him in a few years and he’s coming into town today and-”

“Don’t listen to his bullshit. Fathers are just life-fuckers.” And with this shocking piece of advice, he bent down, picked up his shopping bag and the whiskey flask engraved with the word “Pink” that had fallen out of his pocket, and continued on down the street. Brooke looked after him with strange look on her face and sinking feeling in her heart. Why did that I run into that guy today, of all days?

Shaking her head, she crossed the street to go sit on the benches in St. Magdelene’s cemetery. The birds chirped and passed each other from the trees and bushes surrounding the graves, speaking only of love in their cheery tones. She wasn’t scared of graves or tombs as normal people were, mostly because when she was little she used to play hide-and-seek with her friends in the graveyard down the street during the afternoon into the night. Brooke always saw these kinds of places as semi-formal playgrounds with interesting stories behind each play structure. As she sat twiddling her thumbs, she noticed a woman in puce scrubs kneeling by a grave, not moving, for several minutes. Brooke’s began to worry that something was wrong when a bird stood right beside her and she did not move, so she got up to go check on the woman, who looked vaguely familiar. As she approached, she recognized her as the nurse called “Ms. Clara” who gave her back-to-school vaccinations at the free clinic. She was crying helplessly in front of a large tombstone that read “Mr. & Mrs. Holloway.” When she gently touched her shoulder, Ms. Clara leapt to her feet. “What do you want?” Cautiously Brooke said “I was just making sure you’re alright.”

Ms. Clara wiped her eyes and said “Lemme ask you something-do you have a family?” Brooke was about to say Yes, I’ve got a mother and my father’s coming into town with our old maid and-

And she realized she didn’t. Have a family, that is. She had parents and a former housekeeper. But families lived together and kept in touch even when they were apart and actually cared about the people they lived with. Brooke had none of this. Her eyes welled up with tears.

Ms. Clara patter her back in the maternal way she learned during her time as a nurse and said “There, there sweetie. Don’t cry. I’ve just come to realize much later in life how important my family was, and they were gone before I could grasp it. Now maybe you can patch your family up before you’re grown.” She smiled and glanced at her phone. “Oh goodness, I’m late for work! Can’t keep the patients waiting!” She quickly darted out of the cemetery and briskly walked out of sight.

Brooke sank into the ground, wishing for a breeze in the still morning air to wash away the heat from her skin. She noticed after several minutes that the tombstone she was now staring at said "To infinity and beyond." How strange. A Buzz Lightyear quote? Then Brooke noticed that the weathered stone had a child's name and age on it. He only lived till he was 6. The two empty plots beside his tomb made her realize that whoever Luke Stanley was, his parents had outlived him. On top of his tomb was a weathered Buzz Lightyear toy, arms stretched towards the grey sky as though he wished to fly again, but was instead keeping the boy safe by protecting him.

She realized she was on her own in the world, at a young age. No one was there to protect her, not even Buzz Lightyear.Unless she reunited her broken “family.”

A Call From The Past

Brooke was attempting to shower away the confrontation that just happened with the strange woman outside Castle Apartments, but it was not a successful endeavor. Even after 45 minutes in the shower, she still felt unclean after she stepped out of the shower. Brooke wiped the clutch as clean as she could, and threw it out down the stairwell of Castle Apartments so that she no longer had to hid the small purse, or think about it. After she curled up in her old quilt on her bed, she started daydreaming about her childhood again. Daydreaming about her 4-person family was the Brooke’s only solace nowadays. While she drifted in and out of sleep, she remembered the day she came home with her first project in kindergarten, a diorama of an Indian reservation that had gotten a check+. Brooke had hurried in the front door and ran into her mom’s office, shouting “Mommy, Mommy look! I got a good grade on the project me and daddy did together! LOOK!”

Veronica, Brooke’s mom, turned around and said distractedly “That’s great honey. I’m working on a big deadline today. We’ll celebrate later.”

“But mommy, can’t we--”

“Not now sweetheart. Now go on, I’m busy,” and she turned back to her mountain of paperwork. Her promotion at work was riding on finishing this work, and her ambition blinded her from the hurt look on her daughter’s face. Brooke turned and left the room, and Silvia was waiting outside the door with fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk. In her Hispanic drawl she said “Let’s go to the kitchen mi cariño and talk about your day.” They had dinner later that night just the 3 of them, Silvia, Brooke, and her father. Veronica declined to eat, and Brooke thought she didn’t care anymore. From that day on, she went strait to the kitchen after school, not up to see her mom in her office anymore.

Brooke sluggishly awoke and decided to find her cell phone before she went back to sleep for good. When she did find in it in the pocket of her jeans from that day, the new voicemail icon was blipping brightly. Tiredly she hit call and waited for the message to play. A Hispanic voice chattered “HOLA mi cariño! It is Silvia! Your father and I have missed you very much! We managed to track you down after all these years! My number is 459-328-9870. Por favor call me as soon as possible! We want to see you again Bubblebutt!”

And without a second thought of her own mother and the repercussions of her actions, Brooke excitedly dialed back and waited for someone to pick up.

Attacker???

As Brooke walked towards Castle Apartments from her weekly trek to Sherwood Forest, her stomach grumbled. She had felt alone since her time apart from her school "friends", but their influence was not the best. My life is better without them. But gee, I wish I still had SOMEONE to talk to, she thought gloomily as she shuffled down Popular Avenue. Her hunger pangs continued, and she made a split-second decision to walk down to Casa D' Waffles, which was in a corner of town she hadn't been to since December. Brooke knew her old friends still hung around there, but her fear of awkward situations and seeing everyone again made her wary of stepping into their territory. Still, it was March, and they didn't show up there until much later a night. It was only 8 o'clock, after all, but as dark as twilight.

When she placed her hand on the worn door handle of the restaurant, mouth watering with the anticipation of a fresh waffle, Brooke noticed one of her old friends loitering outside the strip club. She quickly ducked inside, ate her waffle, and hurried on her way home before anyone recognized her. Brooke walked quickly across town with her head down towards Castle Apartments until flash of color caught her eyes, and when she looked up she nearly ran into the woman in front of her.

The woman was wearing a black sequined mini dress that had come down to expose her red lacy bra, with a thin sweater that seemed out of place for this windy March night. Geez honey its not spring yet. Put some pants on, Brooke thought. Her hair had vomit on the tips, her shoulder had a bleeding gash, and she looked to be in her early 20's. She had many shopping bags but her purse was only a small clutch in her hand, which Brooke knew from her past wild-child experience would probably not contain an ID, only money, lipgloss, and a cell phone. Surprisingly, the clothes on her body and in the bags looked well-used, as though the woman had only a few items to wear, like she had no other possessions. Sequins were missing in areas where they would have rubbed off, and her body smelt unkempt. 


Brooke tapped on her shoulder and asked “M’am? Need help?” The woman didn’t answer and continued to stare up at the apartments in a drunken daze. A sharpie mark on her left forearm read "peeeetrtaa," which didn't make much sense at all, and from the stench of alcohol on her body and the stamp on her right hand made it obvious that this woman had been at Isabella’s Cafe.

Brooke decided to go through her purse to find an ID, because obviously no one could help this woman until they knew her name, whatever it was. When she gently took her clutch to begin investigation, the woman awoke with a start. "Wha-wha-whats going on?" She attempted to look around then, then woozily asked "Who are you?" The woman dropped her bags and began massaging her temples, while Brooke caught the majority of her bags before they hit the ground and spilled everything. She started to respond calmly, when the woman screamed "Why do you have my purse??? And my bags?? WHAT ARE YOU DOING? Why did you hurt me?"

Brooke backed away slowly, unsure of how to react. She was trying to help! As the lady, whoever "peeeetrtaa" was, kept on screaming, Brooke turned and ran. Whatever, I didn't do anything, I'm going home, she thought as she jogged inside the front door of Castle Apartments.

Only when Brooke arrived inside her apartment did she realize that she was still holding the unknown girl's clutch, and 2 of her bags. Oh shit.