Yesterday
I took a sip of my tomato soup and nearly gagged. It wasn't that it tasted bad, it's just that it had almost no taste at all. I took a big gulp of water, trying to wash the blandness from my mouth. It tasted even weaker that usual today.
I looked up from my soup and at my parents, trying to take my mind off of the loss of flavor. Dad was silently digging into his dinner, as always.
"Could you pass me the salt, please, Ethan?" He asked quietly.
My dad, Timothy Kairos, was on the quiet side. He didn't say much, but he could be pretty stubborn sometimes, and he could win almost any argument with those piercing dark eyes of his. If only he would speak up about Mom's cooking... He was pretty tall, and had a strong, confident-looking face. He was also a bit of a neat freak, with his perfectly-combed gray hair (yes, he still had a full head of hair) and always-on-straight glasses. My dad looked pretty old, but he was only two years older than my mom. Although Mom might be hiding her age with makeup and stuff.
My Mom, Pamela Kairos, was always cheerful and full of energy. However, her cooking tended to be on the bland side. My mom, if I do say so myself, was quite the looked, even at age forty. She had long, wavy, brown hair, but it was usually pinned up somehow. She also had this warm smile that she never hid, and it made everyone who saw it want to smile back.
And then there was me, Ethan Kairos. I was sixteen years old (seventeen tomorrow!) and a sophomore at Kako High School. I lived alone with my two parents and our cat. I suppose I had what some would call a brown 'Justin Bieber' haircut, long-ish and swept to the side. I wasn't so sure about that, after all, I had a pretty masculine voice, in my opinion, anyway. I wasn't super tall, but I guess I wasn't all that short, either (an average of my dad's tall height and my mom's petite frame). I also had these blue eyes that posed a great question to heredity. They were what my mom called a 'crystal-clear cerulean'. My dad simply said that they were navy. Anyway, the point was that neither of my parents had blue eyes, so I wasn't sure where the blue came from. But I guess it wasn't all that important.
As I handed Dad the salt, my mom saw the scratches on my hand.
"Ethan," she asked, concerned, "where did you get that cut?"
"A cut?" My dad suddenly asked frantically, "did someone attack you?"
"Huh?" I asked, looking down at my hand. "Oh... you mean this? It was just Sox. Sox scratched me." No need to freak out...
"Oh, is that all?" Dad sighed in relief and slumped down in his chair. "Don't scare us like that!" Hey, who was scaring who?
"I was about to give Sox a bath when he went ballistic..." I muttered, frowning at the cuts on my hands.
"That's Sox," Mom chuckled. "He absolutely hates water, that cat." I was through with bath duty...
"Speaking of Sox..." Mom said, taking a sip of her soup. How could she stand the stuff? "Derek hasn't been around lately. "Oh, that's right. Sox used to be Uncle Derek's cat.
"I'd say that means he doesn't need our money," Dad sniffed, frowning.
"Come on, now Tim..." Mom said softly.
"Anyway," Dad said, getting up from his seat at the table, "thanks for dinner." And he went upstairs to do who-knows-what.
"Yeah, thanks, Mom," I said, and went upstairs to my room as well.
When I got back upstairs, I noticed that my window was open again, and Sox was snoozing on my bed (no surprise there). "Were you outside, again, Sox?" I asked as I walked over and closed the window. "You'll get filthy out there!"
Sox only sat up and stretched. "Don't tell me you're still angry," I muttered. I reached over to pet him, but he hissed at me and arched his back. "Sorry, sorry," I moved my hand away. "I won't be giving you any more baths, okay?" Sox merely rolled over and went back to sleep.
"Ethan!" My mom called again from downstairs. "Tea's ready!"
"Coming," I called back.
On my way downstairs, I heard voices from inside the kitchen.
"Come on, I only need a little!" I heard a voice say. "Just a tiny bit...!" Huh? It sounded like Uncle Derek. Speak of the devil...
My Uncle Derek, my dad's brother, was a bit of a hothead, which could be kinda scary. He was ten years younger than Dad, but as I've mentioned before, my dad looked a lot older than he really was, so it only made Derek look even younger. My uncle had tousled black hair, wild eyes, and he always wore this leather jacket. He was kind of a rebel. In other words, he was nothing like my dad.
"I can't lend you anything," my dad said quietly. "Try to understand, Derek."
I walked into the kitchen, and sure enough, my uncle and my dad were in the middle of a heated conversation.
"Well, I won't leave 'til you do!" Derek leaned against the kitchen counter. "Whaddya think about that, huh?"
My father crossed his arms. "We just don't have enough to spare. You can't rely on us like you do, Derek."
I cleared my throat to announce that I had entered the room. "Hi, there, Uncle Derek..." I mumbled uncertainly.
"Hey, Ethan," he grudgingly nodded hello. "Talk some sense into your stingy old man, would ya?" He pointed accusingly at my dad.
"That's enough, Derek!" My dad slammed his fist on the counter. "Go on! Get out of here!" Whoa. I've never seen my dad like this before.
"Fine! I'm not gonna stand here and take your abuse!" Derek narrowed his eyes at my father. "What's a little money between family, anyway?" He balled his hands into fists at his sides. "Don't know why I should be surprised," he muttered. "You've always been down on me..."
"Well?" My father folded his arms again. "Stop beating around the bush. If you've got something to say, then come out and say it!"
"You'll regret this," my uncle snarled and made his way towards the front door. "Better watch your back, bro."
Dad was just staring at Uncle Derek, an unreadable expression on his face. I looked over to the kitchen table and saw that Mom was just sitting there, calmly drinking her tea. It was amazing how she could just sit through that whole argument.
"I'm outta here," Derek scoffed as he opened the door.
"But, Derek," my mom called calmly from the table. "I have tea!"
"Forget the tea!" My dad shouted exasperatedly.
"I'll just head home like a good little boy," Derek muttered. "But I'll be back," he said menacingly before he slammed the door and was gone.
My father sighed and sat down at the kitchen table. "When is he going to act his age?" It looked like they had it pretty rough...
"Help yourself to an apple, Ethan," my mother chirped, cheerful as a chickadee, as I sat down as well.
"Um, okay..." I muttered as I reached out and took one from the bowl in front of me.
"So, listen..." my father said as he sipped his tea. "You're turning seventeen tomorrow, aren't you, Ethan?"
"Huh?" I looked up from my apple.
"That's right!" My mom smiled. "Seventeen years old!"
"What's with the sudden birthday talk, you two?" I asked, puzzled at the sudden change of subject. Seriously, where did that come from?
"Oh, I get it!" I brightened, finally realizing what was going on. "You probably don't know what to get me."
"What... to get you?" My mom looked puzzled.
"Actually, I-" I started, but Mom only interrupted me.
"You want another watch, right?" She chuckled knowingly. Wow, she could see right through me...
"Aw, come on! Not really!" I stuttered, lying through my teeth. "Actually, what I'd really like-"
"Say, Pam," my father interrupted, ignoring what I had to say. "When are we going to talk to our son about... that?"
"It might be a little expensive..." I continued, hoping they'd listen. "But, hey- it's my birthday! And college is just around the corner!"
"Anytime is fine by me," my mom said to my dad. "I'll just duck out."
"It would have to have some really snazzy features," I continued, "appropriate for its cost, of course..." They'd have to hear me eventually, right?
"No, you should be there, too," Dad said back to Mom. "How about tomorrow? Better sooner than later." Okay, now this was just ridiculous.
"Whoa, whoa, everyone- time out!" I shouted above the chatter of my parents. "Aren't we talking about... my present?" They never really listened to me...
"Ethan..." my mom said quietly.
"We'll talk about it tomorrow, Ethan," my dad said quietly. "On the day that you turn seventeen."
"...Talk about what?" I asked, confused about the subject of conversation at the moment.
"Come home right away tomorrow," my mom said seriously. "Okay? No side trips."
"Uh, sure thing," I nodded uncertainly, "But what about my present?" I didn't mean to sound selfish, but my folks were just completely ignoring me here!
"Well..." my dad stood up from the table. "Goodnight," he said and went back upstairs. He didn't hear a word I said...
"...You two are a lot alike," my mom finally said after a while.
"Huh?" Me like Dad? I sure hope not! I'd better be careful...
"Dad's got a lot on his mind," Mom said as she sipped her tea.
"See, that's just the thing," I said annoyedly. "I've been thinking about a lot of stuff, too."
"Ethan..." My mom looked concerned. Oh, so now she's paying attention.
"But no one ever listens to what I have to say!" I sprung up from the table, slamming the apple down with a satisfying 'splat'.
"Oh, Ethan," she sighed. "That's not true."
"Like you, Mom," I heard myself getting louder with each word. "I can tell you 'til I'm blue in the face, but you never cook your food right!"
"Why, I...!" Mom looked shocked.
"Forget it," I muttered. "I'm going to bed..." I stomped upstairs to my room.
"Ethan!" My mom called right before I slammed the door. She sounded hurt.
I sighed to myself as I got into bed. "G'night, Sox..." I said before I switched off the lights. Sox responded with a sleepy 'meow' before he curled up at my feet.
I just laid there in bed, reflecting on what had happened tonight.
Phew... I think I crossed the line with Mom... And what was Dad talking about, anyway? 'We'll talk about it tomorrow'? What was that supposed to mean?
...Well, whatever. I'd find out tomorrow. And after Dad's had his say, I'd apologize to Mom.
And before I knew it, I had drifted off to sleep.
I dreamt that I was a little kid again, tossing and turning in my sleep. The childhood Ethan was having a nightmare, and I was watching it with him.
"Where are you?" He sobbed in his sleep. "Mommy, where? Dad..." He was dreaming of a burning building, a great fire. And two people, a young couple, were caught in it. The more I looked at the couple, the more familiar their faces seemed. Then I realized... it was Mom and Dad. They looked so... young. They looked at least ten years younger, maybe more.
Mom and Dad were running through the building, looking for an exit. They were just about to leave through the back door when another beam from the ceiling collapsed, blocking the doorway. Now there was no way out. Mom stepped back, her face worried, her eyes desperately searching for a way of escape. She found none. Suddenly, another beam fell and hit her on the head, causing her to cry out and collapse.
"Pamela!" my father cried, running over to her. But before he could help her, something remarkable happened. Everything froze, and I mean everything. Mom, the flames, even another falling beam was frozen in mid-air. Time itself appeared to be frozen. That is, everything was frozen except for my dad.
"What...?" He looked around, visibly bewildered at the situation. Then realization appeared to dawn on his face. "But who..." he said to himself. "Who could've done this?"
"Ethan!" Dad called out, looking around. "Was it you?"
Mom! Dad! I tried to call out, but I found that I couldn't, no matter how hard I tried. It was as if I had no voice.
Then, in the center of the room, a giant spiraling portal suddenly appeared. It looked almost like a black hole from those sci-fi movies, appearing to be without end on the other side.
My father looked all around. "That appears to be the only way out," he muttered to himself. He then picked up my mother and started walking towards the mysterious portal with her in his arms.
Mom! Dad! Wait for me! Wait!
He stepped into the portal and began walking through the blackness that awaited on the other side.
Don't leave me here! Come back!
Then the hole closed, swallowing my parents and the blackness with it.
Mom! Dad! Take me with you!
Then time started back up, the flames blazing and beams falling once again. The building was beginning to collapse.
No! Come back!
The flames were getting even hotter now, and I could feel it.
Don't leave me!
