I've been taking longer than I wanted to as usual ... I'm also working on a story called Fairyland Valley and one called Mikki's Journal, and yeah it's a little hard writing three stories at one time.. so naturally I've stopped the first one for a while, and occasionally write in the second one. But I am planning to finish this entire story soon! So keeping reading and reviewing ... I appreciate it if you point out something that doesn't make sense, or if you tell me what you think of it! Thx!

Cha. 11

It was a personal family thing. No way was D.A. going to do what Carlos begged her to do! Who knew what emotion and drama would occur. She didn't want to be part of it-she wasn'tpart of it. Carlos had no right to want her there; so she sat on the porch steps under the lamp lights in front of the house, gazing at the stars. But she couldn't help hearing some of what went on inside the Ramone home.

...

Carlos' POV

Carlos wouldn't admit it, but he was a bit scared to confront his parents. That's why he wanted D.A. there ... though he wasn't sure how she would make things any better. With a sigh, he dropped another step down the stairs, then paused again. Maybe she was right; after all, if his parents flew into action, he didn't want her to witness it. D.A. knew nothing but the "cool" issues that went on in his family ... or she hadn't. To Carlos' great surprise, he found that she was a closer friend to him than he had ever thought!

When he finally reached the bottom step, he could see right into the open living room door. It was dark and his Mikey was watching TV. Carlos didn't find that all too surprising. "Hey, Mikey," he said, stepping into the room and looking around. "Where's Mom and Dad?"

"They're in the kitchen, I think," Mikey replied without taking his eyes off the screen. "Why?"

Carlos knew that his brother didn't just ask "why" anytime. He didn't answer and wandered over to the kitchen instead. His parents were talking behind the door but he couldn't make out what they were saying. He could have if he had gone into the entrance and listened by the non-glass window. So he knocked, then turned the knob.

"Hey sport," Mr. Ramone smiled, beckoning him in. "What's on your mind?"

Carlos hesitated. How did they know something was on my mind? he wondered, but stepped into the kitchen light anyway. His mother was sitting on the kitchen counter and loftily balancing a half-eaten sandwich in one hand. His father was holding a soda pop can, but didn't seem interested in it at the moment. They were both looking at him expectantly, and it gave his heart a sinking feeling.

Now, D.A. was sitting right in front of the kitchen-well, almost. The entrance into the house was right next to the kitchen, and there was the non-glass window. Well, how much could a person really hear through the walls-if the door was completely closed! Carlos stopped at that, remembering he hadn't completely shut the door. Then he proceeded to say quietly, "I need to talk to you guys."

Mrs. Ramone nodded, twisting her bangs between her slim beautiful fingers. She didn't look the least bit concerned.

"Well ... umm ... " Suddenly, he wished he was anywhere but here at the moment. He glanced at the kitchen door and sort of backed toward it, leaning against the wall beside it. On the outside, he looked cool and collected. On the inside ... he screamed. What was he thinking? Why had he listened to D.A's advice like that? She was wrong of course-she was always wrong, that book-programmed, stupid blond head! And he was right in the first place! What had made him listen?

"Carlos, you did want to tell us something, didn't you?"

It was Mrs. Ramone, and she looked very suspicious. She thought he had gotten into trouble at school ... or something. Well, he needed to say something.

"I was in the attic," he blurted out. Okay, that sounded pretty stupid. He scratched the back of his dark-haired head.

"And?" Mrs. Ramone probed. Now the idea that he might have broken something old and treasured occurred to her. She was sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter now.

"Well ... umm ... " Carlos stumbled for words again. He strangely felt like the time he had tried to convince Ms. Frizzle to go to an auto parts store and see if they could fix the bus. He wanted her to leave so they could make her a cake ... in the bakery. Surprisingly, and much to his relief, she had bought it. But this wasn't a time to make excuses ... he was coming out with the truth. And it wasn't suppose to bother him ... it was suppose to bother them.

When Mr. Ramone opened his mouth to urge his son to hurry up and say it, Carlos heard himself say, "I came across this trunk-with my name on it."

At the mention of that, his parents looked at each other with an exchanged expression that he would never have been able to define had he not known what this was all about. With fresh courage, he surged on.

"D.A. and I opened it. We found all kinds of baby stuff, pictures ... and ... and papers."

His parents were looking at him, unable to say anything. Carlos noticed that his mother's face turned white. He hesitated with continuing, then decided it was the right thing to do. "Well, the papers said I was adopted. I want to know if that's true. But more than that, I want to know where my real parents are, and how I can locate them."

The last words he said in his coldest manner, and he could see by the flinching on his parents' faces that he had hurt them.

"Carl, sweetie, it's not-" Mrs. Ramone began, her voice shaking.

"Now listen here, Carlos," Mr. Ramone said sternly. None of them really knew what to say, but they were obviously groping for something in confusion.

Carlos stepped forward, his eyes flashing. "Listen to what? You're not my father-you only pretended you were, and thought I'd never find out you're just some guy that thought they could train me into being a son of yours like a stray puppy!" he spat. The rage was very evident in his eyes.

Mrs. Ramone grabbed a nearby towel and sobbed into it. Carlos felt slightly uncomfortable, but his fury was too much in control for him to really care at the moment.

Mr. Ramone put down his soda can on the edge of the sink and stared at his oldest son. "Is-is that what you think?" he asked.

"Well, what else?" Carlos snapped, crossing his arms and glaring right back into his father's eyes. "If you had loved me like your own kid, you would've told me I was adopted! You would've told me about my family! And you wouldn't have taken me away from them." He swallowed hard, but didn't release his dad from his steady gaze.

"Taken you away?" Mrs. Ramone cried, looking up from her towel. "Carlos, if we hadn't, you wouldn't be where you are today."

"No, I wouldn't," Carlos agreed with an obvious hint of sarcasm in his voice.

But she wiped her eyes and slid off the counter, continuing in a calmer voice: "You were just a little two-year-old then, sweetie. You could never have taken care of yourself-and we couldn't just leave you there-without your parents and all."

"What do you mean without my parents?" Carlos demanded. A cold caterpillar of fear started crawling up his spine ...

"They died, son," Mr. Ramone said gently. There was a stifled sob from his mother, but Carlos was staring at his dad in disbelief. "The will read that, well, we were to take you in if something happened."

Carlos didn't know what to say. The flash of anger left his brown eyes while he kept staring at Mr. Ramone. "They died?" he whispered. "You mean ... when I was small?"

His father nodded solemnly. "Yes, they did."

Carlos sat down in a kitchen chair, his mind spinning thoughts. He couldn't sort them out, just as he couldn't sort out his feelings or words at the moment.

"Do you remember anything about them?" Mrs. Ramone asked somewhat timidly as she came and ran her fingers through his tumbled black hair tenderly. She had always known in her heart that someday they would have to face this challenge. It had always made her feel guilty if she thought of how they were keeping it from him ... they had meant to tell him a while back ... but she supposed this was their reward for hesitating so long. Nevertheless, now she was concerned over another thing.

Carlos looked confused and shook his head.

Mr. Ramone looked at his wife. Then he crouched down to look into his son's eyes. "They loved you very much, sport-never doubt that. They wouldn't have given you away for all the world if-if this hadn't happened."

"I know, Dad," Carlos replied, suddenly feeling freed from his doubts and confusion. It felt like he was breathing in fresh air that in turn blew out all the anger, pain, and stubbornness that had been there. But his mind wasn't completely cleared-he needed a few more answers. "What happened to them?" he asked, looking dazed.

"They were at a meeting, Carlos. Somehow the building caught on fire, and by the time they realized it, they were surrounded by fire ... with no way out." It looked like it was difficult for Mrs. Ramone to relate to this. She closed her eyes to keep back the tears and didn't go on.

"So they died, along with all the other people in the building. Only one person escaped-someone who was in a different room at the time, and had a way of escape. But there was no way he could help the others, who were all trapped in the main room," Mr. Ramone finished for her. He dropped his hands to his sides and sighed. "Your real mother was her"-he gestured to his wife-"identical twin sister."

"What?" Carlos jumped to his feet and stared in astonishment at his mom. "You mean-you look exactly-like my mom looked?"

Mrs. Ramone smiled through her tears. "And often you couldn't tell us apart either. I remember laughing in pity over you because you honestly thought I was your mother, when you were still a toddler. It made it a lot easier for you to adjust to me being your real mom, after we adopted you. But your dad ... you missed him a lot at first." She nodded, looking thoughtful.

Now a series of new thoughts and feelings rushed through Carlos' mind and heart. He had first looked at his dad and tried to imagine him as his uncle, while his mother talked. Now he stared and studied Mrs. Ramone until she laughed uncomfortably and told him she would get him some pictures. It amazed him how they had hidden so well the existence of his present-day mother's twin. He had never even known that his mother had been a twin to ... well, his mother! He found it very confusing and rather interesting. For a moment, he forgot his unhappiness of never being told before.

It made him feel better to think he might as well be looking at his original mother. Made him feel close to her, somehow. But he felt an unidentified pang in his heart that made him want to throw a fit of unhappiness. He couldn't explain it-all he knew was that he felt like he was, for the first time, missing someone whom he should have known but didn't remember-and it was a strange, uncomfortable feeling. He started feeling restless, too.

But despite that feeling, he sat between his parents with Mikey hovering over them in his little brother fashion and looked with interest at the pictures which they showed him, and the memories they shared and laughed about. He felt relief over the fact that this confrontation hadn't turned out as bad as he had expected. Actually, his parents seemed really eager to finally tell him all about what he didn't know, or didn't remember. And he felt good about it, too.

But there was one thing that bothered him. The thought returned to him after the last picture had been displayed in front of his eyes. He sat back and looked from one parent to the other. "Mom, Dad"-and I wish D.A. had been there to hear him call them that, because I know she would've been thrilled-"I've just got one question."

Mr. Ramone's smile lingered on his face, but he exchanged glances with his wife. "Go ahead, son."

"Why didn't any of you tell me all this before? Why did you keep it from me?" It was something he wanted to understand with all his heart.

There was a long silence as Carlos waited. Finally, Mr. Ramone said something surprising.

"I don't know, son."

"Neither do I, really," Mrs. Ramone chimed in, looking uncertain. "We meant to tell you, sweetie, but after a while it just never came up. We'd forget, think about telling you, then forget again. I know it wasn't right of us, and we're sorry, but please don't think that we purposely kept it away from you."

"Why didn't you tell me when you thought of it?" Carlos persisted.

"Well, you see, it never was a good time to tell you then. For some reason, something always came up and we decided to push it up. Well, we didn't always decide to-we'd forget." He looked thoughtfully at his son. "And the reason we forgot was not because we didn't think it necessary, or didn't care about you. Do you know why we kept forgetting, Carlos?"

He shook his head. He didn't have a single idea.

"Why, because we considered you completely part of the family," Mrs. Ramone smiled, putting an arm around him. "And you didn't even feel like a close nephew-but like a son of our flesh and blood. Which you are, pretty much. We'd be family to you whether we would've adopted you or not."

Carlos smiled, too. A warm butterfly had replaced the chilly caterpillar he felt, and suddenly, the pieces of his shattered world drew themselves together again. He was very fortunate, after all ... he could live with family that he had known as long as he had known his real parents. He'd never had to live with strangers. His life was probably a lot easier than other kids who left their families at a later age ... and had to live with some foster parents that they didn't know or had ever seen before.

There was a tender moment in the midst of the family then; a moment when there were hearts and eyes of understanding and contentment ... smiles and tears ... and a radiance of happiness that shone out of each family member's face. An unseen bond of love had drawn the Ramone family closer together.

Thanks to D.A, Carlos thought.

...

"D.A?"

The blond head lifted and she looked up to see Carlos looking at her with a grin. She stood up quickly, almost stunned to see the happiness that sparkled on his attractive features. If she hadn't been so relieved to see him looking so bright, she would have felt her heart skipping a beat and would have found herself ignoring the fact that he looked very cute standing there like that.

"Did it ... did you ... " D.A. stammered, hardly daring to believe it.

"Thanks, D.A," Carlos managed to say as he put his arms around her and hugged her close. "You're an awesome friend ... and you were right."

And again, if this had been any other time, she would've been shocked to hear those words coming from the guy who never wanted to admit that she was right ... for as long as he could, he would argue with her. Which would result in an everlasting argument. But now it only made sense to hug her best friend and say sweetly, "I'm always right, Carlos."

He laughed and pulled away. She smiled-but it was a smile of relief for her friend, and not triumph over her being right. And I'm glad he noticed that, or else I might have had to write another whole page about their argument.