Chapter Two

[November 10th, 1968]

“HOLY FUCK,” Teresa exclaimed from the living room. That prompted me to stop what I was doing, running down the stairs to see what was going on. Of course, it wasn’t a shock to see Teresa sitting on the couch, watching Mothra. What I also saw was spilled Coca-Cola and a broken bowl of popcorn on the floor. I rolled my eyes in disillusionment, sitting down just watching the Japanese horror film. “You need to stop screaming like that,” I told off Teresa, who just looked at me with a look that said shut up. Rolling my eyes once more, I just continued to watch the movie.

The phone suddenly rang shortly after; I just assumed it was another caller asking if we would want to preach to god or if we wanted to donate money to help the soldiers out in Vietnam. I didn’t dare to answer it but Teresa did, which is another reason why I feel that I should probably give her a talking of not raising up the phone bill. I wouldn’t blame her on it, she’s more well-known than me. I’m just the one person that someone ignores within the pasture. “Hello, Teresa Boonstock speaking!~” she spoke with a really seductive accent. I keep having a feeling that no man wants to hear her trying to flirt with her. Random case scenario, it isn’t a man but a woman.

I just stood up, walking over to the kitchen to begin working on the dishes while Teresa was on the phone. Plate after plate, bowl after bowl, spoon to fork to knife, the dishes were endless but I wouldn’t care about it that much. My eyes then glance back to a picture that hung on the wall. It was a portrait of my father and my mother on their wedding day. On the bottom of the image was some writing in ink:

MARKUS AND CLARA SILBERHAUS (1935)

I still remember on what father told me a week before he passed. He said I looked just like my mother; a beautiful princess that danced gracefully within her homeland. Her homeland, that my father referred to, was the Philippines. A beautiful place, I recall. Dr. Drosselmeyer took me once with Nathan to experience the culture that my mother once experienced. Back to when I was thinking of Father’s words, I look at my reflection in a shining plate as squeaky clean as a majestic mirror.

I did not see how I looked as beautiful as my mother. I only saw the features that I believed I had gotten from my father. The brownish hair and the light skin is all I got from him. That’s the majority. Even my brothers say I have his intimidating looks; the only thing that I have in relation to my mother is her eye color and a necklace that she gave me on my 5th birthday. I thought it was really pretty and a healthy reminder that I was a child once. Thinking back to it also reminded me on how childhood has to end one way or another, mine ended too early though.

Thinking about it again and again is annoying enough as it is, but once it surfaces high into your mind, it’s hard to pull it back down. I could remember everything; Dr. Drosselmeyer wasn’t able to afford a babysitter that late so he took me and Nathan into his car, driving to where father had crashed. It was a far drive indeed, took almost a whole two hours just to get to Fort Worth. Nathan was allowed to bring the toy soldiers since that would keep him occupied during the entire car ride over to Fort Worth. I still imagine myself looking out the window, seeing the snow fall while the car ride continued. But once more, the memory when I blink then transitions to when we finally arrive at Fort Worth where me and Nathan saw Father’s Corvair crashed amongst a bent to broken flag pole that was nearby Mrs. Darnell’s home. Mrs. Darnell was another teacher I knew in high school; she taught creative writing class and unfortunately, since it was part of my english curriculum… I had to take it with Teresa.

Unfortunately, again, she was also the mother of the most spoiled, bitchiest, rotten, popular and offensive little ingrates to ever be born out of her vagina. I’m talking about Darna Darnell. Darna was an absolute monster; I don’t know why she would usually target me or others of Asian heritage but she literally has it out for me. She has dark-toned skin; somewhere in the middle I would say. She also had brownish-blonde hair  with eyes as intimidating as a shark’s eye. I couldn’t really give two flying fucks on what she really is. All I know that despite her popularity and high rankings, I’d rather hang out with people who actually care about me along with trying to imagine what it’d be like if Darna was locked in the closet once again.

Besides that, Mrs. Darnell and Darna were okay. They were standing outside of the house, looking at the inside of the smashed car. Father didn’t even move a muscle as his head was sunken to the bottom of another seat and his leg was sticking out of the window. We waited for the police to come and when they finally did, we watched as father was taken far away to possibly a cemetery.

Another blink and there I was, back at Drosselmeyer’s home with a warm glass of milk. He sat in-between me and Nathan before he sighed, “I know, kids.. It’s a shock to see your father leave so soon.”

“Will he ever come back?” Nathan asked.

“I’m afraid not, Nathan,” Drosselmeyer answered truthfully.

“What will happen now?” I asked.

“It appears your older brothers are far off.. So I have no choice but to raise you two as my own.”

“What about–”

“Nothing to worry about, in fact, tomorrow I’ll begin renovations for you both to have individual rooms. So you both have different interests and one will never conjure from the other.”

And from that point on, Drosselmeyer was our guardian. He never changed our last names to his as he knew it would cause some conflict in a way that he would possibly never tell us. Fading back to reality, I could faintly hear my name being called multiple times over and over again.

“Nancy… Nancy… NANCY!!” Teresa exclaimed before I turned my head quickly, nearly dropping the plate.

“Dear god, Teresa,” I yelled, “what?”

“It’s for you,” she answered.

“Who is it?”

“Someone who goes by the name… Christopher Robin–”

Without a second thought, I yanked the phone and listened in. “Christopher?!”

“Little sis, hey!” Christopher spoke through the phone.

“W-what’s up? Is something wrong? Is Michael okay?”

“Yeah yeah, everything’s okay. Listen, I was wondering if you could swing by Nevada. You know, Las Vegas?”

“Yeah I know, your point?”

“Since we’re all of age now, we’re finally going to see who gets most of Father’s will. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was you little sis. You were always Father’s favorite.”

“Just because I was his favorite doesn’t mean I’m going to get it.”

“How long would it take you to Road Trip to Nevada?”

“Uh….” I grab a nearby map, looking at the routes, “maybe in a day or two? When’s the hearing?”

“Three days, you’ve got time.”

“Okay, I’ll start packing.”

“See you there, Nancy!”

“Bye Christopher.” I hung up before turning to face Teresa who looks like she had just contained every bit of her excitement over nothing. I could tell what she was going to say; she was going to ask me if she could come with her to Vegas. I rolled my eyes and nodded.

She jumped up and down for joy, shaking me back and forth. “WE’RE GOING TO LAS VEGAS! WE’RE GONNA GAMBLE OUR MONEY!!!”

Right when she said that, she ran to her wallet to take out six $10 bills and she ran up to our room to begin packing every bit of her items for this small road trip to Vegas.

I am possibly going to regret bringing her for the long run, but if I leave her here, she’s probably going to mess up the christmas lights again.