The horizon shimmered with lights streaming of pinks' and yellows'. I watched Marcus smack his gum in the passenger seat, and Uncle Thomas keeping a firm grip on the wheel, jaw clenched, eyes steaming with anger. This had been the only quiet moment in about three hours of the whole trip. It seemed Marcus was determined to make Uncle Thomas furious, since he was furious himself for having to go with me to see Grandpa Franklin, so he did his best to push Uncle Thomas's buttons, and see where things got him. It seemed Marcus was happy with his work so far, since he was smiling, and Uncle Thomas looked just about ready to strangle him. We passed our eighteenth lake, and the car wheels bumped over another pot hole, making everything wobble. Uncle Thomas's car wasn't very big either, so everything was packed closely together, leaning over like a tower, ready to fall right over me.
I fogged up the window with my breath, and traced a cloud I could see with my finger, I kept tracing it until I was satisfied with the shape of it, and then I made a darker line on the bottom of it, which was meant to represent the yellow rays' from the sun on the cloud. The sky had tips of pink, and some shades of soft baby blue, as if it had just recently been painted with the three colors. Marcus smacked his gum for the eleventh time in five minutes, and Uncle Thomas lost it. He slide to the side of the empty high-way, and pressed on the brake furiously. "You!" he said, narrowing his eyes at Marcus. "You-you just wait, you just wait, you best not come to me when you need help this summer, 'cause I reckon Grandpa Franklin gonna need some helpin' this summer, and I just gonna love to watch you squirm and whine with all the work!" hollered Uncle Thomas, slurring his words with his southern accent. His brow was knitted, and he kept glaring at Marcus. Marcus just shrugged, and glared back.
"I'm just gonna love to watch you get all high-pitched and screamin' like you all four again dear ole Uncle Thomas." said Marcus, making sure to sound extra southern when he slurred his works to insult Uncle Thomas.
"I ain't gonna have to put up with you for long, and when you with Grandpa Franklin, he ain't gonna take any of your attitude." said Uncle Thomas, in a dangerous sounding voice, as if daring Marcus to talk back. Marcus just shrugged, smacked his gum even louder, and turned away, facing the window. We finally began driving again, and the suit cases dangerously wobbled some more, and we finally arrived at a lake front farm, near the beach. I jumped out of the car happily, stretching my legs, and running toward the small house near the blue barn. Chickens carelessly walked around the yard lazily, and a dog laid on the porch, with his ears shielding his face from the sun. In a plaid rocking chair, sat a old looking man, with burning deep green eyes, and a full head of silver hair. He wore blue overalls, the same color as the barn, and rocked on the oak porch carelessly. He opened his arms as I stalked up the oak steps, and hugged me.
"You must be Marisa." said Grandpa Franklin, in a soft lullaby-like voice. He hugged me in a tight grasp, and let me go within ten seconds. He stood up slowly, and the dog lifted his head, ears pricked. Marcus walked up the steps and stood before Grandpa Franklin. "My, Marcus you aren't little anymore, and you have your mother's eyes and face." said Grandpa Franklin, smiling at Marcus. Marcus grunted, spit his gum out on the grass, and walked into the house passing Grandpa Franklin without a care for what he just said. Uncle Thomas stomped up the steps, and patted Grandpa Franklin's broad shoulder.
"He ain't nothin' more than a stuck up teenager." growled Uncle Thomas unpleasantly. I grabbed my six bags, and started to carry them up the steps, for Uncle Thomas to bring inside. When I brought up Marcus's bags, and only grunted, and said: "If he likes to be that rude, he can get them himself." So once Uncle Thomas was in the kitchen on the other side of the house, I brought Marcus's bags up to his room, where I saw him laying on the bed, with his arms behind his head.
"Thanks Mari." said Marcus, finally sounding like himself. Marcus seemed bad to everyone, but he just didn't like anyone in our family but me, it seemed. He absolutely couldn't tolerate Aunt Lynch, resented every present moment with Uncle Benny, and most defiantly hated Uncle Thomas, so I didn't expect any different from the way he treated Grandpa Franklin. Marcus was the reason why we here, other than the fact that Aunt Lynch was now struck with a disease, and unable to take care of us. Marcus made all our relatives go crazy, and who ever took care of us, didn't last more than over three months most times. We had been switching it up, going to Uncle Benny's house for one month, then Aunt Lynch, until Uncle Benny couldn't stand Marcus, and when Aunt Lynch fell ill, Uncle Thomas came to pick us up, and brought us to Grandpa Franklin.
I sat next to Marcus, and he put his arm around my shoulder when I laid next to him. Marcus was a good brother, even though very, very little people knew this. He was always nice to me, treated me with respect, and always shared everything with me. He protected me for the outside world, and was always caring and helpful. He had pretty much raised me, since all I knew was that my mother had passed away when I was six months old, and that I knew nothing about my father.
Threw his window, I could see the setting sun on the beach sand and water, and Grandpa Franklin's trimmed grass. Marcus squeezed my shoulder then let me go. "You should go, we have to unpack, plus who knows how early we are going to have to wake up." said Marcus, staring at me with his soft hazel eyes. "Plus, I think Uncle Thomas is going to go looking for revenge." Marcus said, smirking when he said this. I nodded, and got up, carefully stepping over Marcus's suit cases, and walking to the other side of the hall to my room. I quickly began unpacking my bags, folding my clothes into each drawer. The sun was down setting over the moving water, and making the sand on the beach shimmer with a new kind of shining light. The air now smelled of warm soup, and garlic. I stalked down the stairs, to find Uncle Thomas eating at the table, and Marcus eating at the opposite side of the table. I sat down, and Grandpa Franklin gave me a bowl of soup, and a crust of garlic bread. I nibbled on the chicken and the noodles thoroughly, until I was eating spoonfuls. The soup turned out to be delicious, and I learned that Grandpa Franklin use to be a chef, and that he met Grandma Luna at a county fair, where he cooked. He winked when he said: "Girls just adore guys that can cook", and I heard his hearty laugh mixed with my own. I also learned that he had owned this farm for ten years, and that Grandma Luna's father had owned it, but gave it to them as a wedding gift once he married Grandma Luna.
"Where is Grandma Luna?" I asked as I finished my bowl.
"At the Aquarium." said Uncle Thomas.
"She works there?"
"No, she owns it." said Uncle Thomas. I opened my mouth to say something, but found that I was too excited and shocked to say anything.
"Can we see it?" I asked excitedly. Grandpa Franklin laughed his hearty laugh, and he stood up, and took each of the bowls.
"Of course." he said, patting my head with his free hand. He put the stack of bowls into the sink, and he turned on the water, and I watched him wait patiently until a big cloud of steam came wandering from the pouring water, and as he grabbed the sponge, dabbed it with soap, and began cleaning each dish, quickly, and skillfully. "You can see it tomorrow, actually, you all can, she is having another dolphin show, and the mayor is suppose to be there, it's really important to her." said Grandpa Franklin. I stared as he washed each dish. Even if Marcus wasn't enjoy this, he would definatly love the dolphin show, it must be amazing if the mayor was coming, I was sure of it.
The moon now shined in the dark night sky, and I could hear the never-ending waves wash up the shore, licking the sand's edge, and brushing some back with it. The moon's light shined over the sea shells, so you could make out their shapes in the silver lighted sand. Each outlined with a dark rim of inky black, as if the rims' had been painted there. It was beautiful here, and I was sure, Marcus wouldn't ruin this, like our other homes, he was going to love it eventually, I was sure. I was sure of a lot of things, and I was most defiantly sure that I was at least going to love it here. Hopefully, hopefully this would work. It simply had to.