The sun sparkled in my face, and when I opened my eyes, it reminded me of how people would wake in the morning, when their at the beach. Wind making the transparent curtains dance, and the sun engulfing them in their rays, making them seem the color of cotton, the waves could be heard, seagulls' singing and hovering over the beach. I could already smell pancakes, and hints that coffee had been made, the smells mingling with the smell of sea salt. I could hear the floor boards' creak as Marcus shuffled out of his room, and yawn loudly, like he does each morning. I slowly removed the covers that were wrapped around my pale legs, and shifted my feet onto the oak floor boards. Once I opened the door, the smell that was riding in the air hit me at a stronger point, and I could now also get the smell of bacon, and hear it sizzling. I could hear the sound of a rippling paper, and I could picture Uncle Thomas hiding behind it at the maple wood table, a steaming coffee at his side. I hugged Marcus, and he patted my head. He felt warm like he always did when he first wakes up. I climbed the stairs two at a time, with him trailing slowly behind me. I was greeted with a plate full of stacked pancakes, drowning in maple syrup, and a small bowl of blueberry oatmeal, and finally a cup of freshly squeezed orange juice. Grandma Luna smiled at me from behind her mug of steaming caramel colored coffee. She looked a lot like me, but her face looked more age, she had blue eyes instead of brown, and her hair was long and silver colored, as mine was short and also brown. Her smile felt warm, and welcoming, and she sipped her coffee and stared at me. "My, Marisa, you look just like your mother did, except you have a very...thoughtful look in your eyes." she said, in a lullaby-like voice, much like Grandpa's. She touched her hand to mine, and I could see a long red scar running down her arm, to her elbow.
"What did that to you?" I asked, pointing to her scar.
"Oh, that, I've had it since I was twelve, I had gone fishing with my father, and an Orca caught us off guard, and my father accidently sliced my arm..." she said. "But, ever since that day, I had been fascinated with sea creatures, and here I am now." she continued, her warm smile spreading across her peach colored lips. I smiled back at her, and I caught a sparkling light in her eyes suddenly, before it vanished. It reminded me of something, but as I tried to think of what it possibly could have been, I heard a cracking sound from outside. Uncle Thomas folded up the paper, and set it down on the table next to his plate. He took one disgusted look at Marcus, then down at his T-shirt. "Well, well boy," began Uncle Thomas, in his thick southern accent," I'm surprised you even got up!" Uncle Thomas let out a hardy laugh, and began attacking his pancakes. Swiftly sliding his fork into the pancakes, and slicing them apart within seconds.
"Slow down Thomas, you're going to get a stomach ache." Said Grandma Luna, patting his belly from the end of the table. I watched Uncle Thomas's ears go a little red, and his eyes darted from me, to grandma, to Marcus, and decided to settle on Marcus. He started glaring, and it turns out Marcus could glare really, really well too, because he instantly made Uncle Thomas furious.
"If you like staring so much, why don't you go clean the Water Barrels for your gramps horses, they just love having staring contests with trouble makers like you!" I honestly knew that Uncle Thomas was trying to sound serious, but whenever he yelled, or even tried to sound angry, his southern accent just didn't agree with him, and got very high pitched, making him sound more like a country version of Mickey Mouse, in a way, and Marcus seemed to notice too, because the corners of his mouth sprouted into a smile, and he started trying not to laugh. "You think that's funny!" growled Uncle Thomas. I kept my hands over my mouth while I chewed my oatmeal, to keep from laughing, but Marcus was not laughing out loud, and starting to tear up from it. "Fine, maybe you can go on and clean the chicken coops too, heck, why don't you do ALL my jobs for the day sonny, since you too darn good at laughing!" shouted Uncle Thomas. "I'd love to see you laughing while mowing the fields, and getting the chicken eggs, and feeding all the animals, maybe I could even make you paint the barn!" Marcus suddenly stopped smiling, and laughing, and he jumped up from the table, and ran upstairs, and slammed his door. Grandma Luna frowned, and looked down at her coffee, while Uncle Thomas had his fists twitching on the table. "Why doesn't the boy just go gone and break the door while he's ate it, since it likes the sound of slamming so much." Muttered Uncle Thomas.
I suddenly lost my appetite then, and ran up stairs, and tried to join Marcus in his room, but he had found a way to lock the door, even though they had no locks. I tried knocking, and talking, but he wouldn't even talk. I even pleaded, and all he said was "Go away Marisa". I sighed, and sluggishly walked into my room, and closed the door softly. I pulled on new clothes, put my hair into a loose braid down my back, and went outside. I told Uncle Thomas I was going to do part of Marcus's chores, and he only just looked and me, and I left before he could say anything else. It turns out, the horses really didn't like when you stared at them, and that the chickens were very, very fond of their eggs. And by the time I had retrieved all the eggs, the sun was high in the sky, and Grandpa Franklin was out on his rocking chair, watching me carry the eggs up the steps. He just stared, and didn't even try to talk, until I set the basket of eggs down, and practically collapsed on the porch. He laughed, and grinned down and me.
"I see you brought me some eggs." He said picking up the basket and counting them. I groaned.
"Chickens are mean." I said. Which I knew sounded extremely stupid, but it was the only thing I could manage to say. Grandpa Franklin laughed again, and I noticed he had a hardly laugh just like Uncle Thomas's, but his sounded friendlier.
"I think you have the wrong idea," said Grandpa Franklin smiling down on me, "These chickens, are just particularly very protective of their eggs." I groaned again, but couldn't help but smile. Grandpa had a loving sense about him, and he seemed to really enjoy smiling. I smiled back up at him, and he put out his hand, and he pulled me up. Suddenly as I began standing, Marcus barged out of the door, and ran down the hill, to the beach. He still looked upset, and then I realized why. Uncle Thomas came out, holding papers….. He looked even more furious than he did at breakfast, but there was a wicked smile on his face. I took the papers out of his hand, and he just stared at me.
They were pictured…..Pictures of a woman, that looked a lot like me, and then I realized it was of our mother. She had wavy hazel brown hair, and twinkling brown eyes, tan skin, and peach colored lips. She did look exactly like me, just a older version. I frowned, and stared up at Uncle Thomas, then back at the pictures. As I flipped through them, there was different ones. There was one of me, but as a baby, and then another one of me as a toddler, holding Marcus's hand. Then another, of me, with my eyes twinkling like in my mother's portrait. I couldn't believe it. Well honestly, I couldn't believe a lot of things. One, that Marcus could draw things in such amazing detail, and had managed to keep this from me for years, and another, that Uncle Thomas would embarrass about it, they were beautiful.
When I looked up at Uncle Thomas again, he looked a little less angry, but I had a feeling that I didn't like or trust him at all anymore. "Where did you get these?" I said staring up at him in disbelief.
He frowned, and suddenly realized he had done something wrong, then just shook his head, and tried to grab the papers, but I was faster. I held them behind my back, and his eyes flicked with anger.
"Marisa….give them back." He said calmly.
"Not until you answer my question." I said, starting to get agitated.
"Well, when the boy wouldn't come out of his room, I-I broke the handle, and then I saw him drawing a picture…and I saw the pile on the floor near him, so I came in, grabbed the pile, and started talking to him….." said Uncle Thomas hesitating. "He-he had looked so shocked, honestly, his face was priceless, and then he ran out of the room, and down the stairs, so quickly I didn't get the chance to stop him….and then he was just gone." Finished Uncle Thomas, the cornered of his mouth twitching into a smile.
I looked at him in disbelief, and in pure rage. I ran off in the direction Marcus had went, and only turned my head back to see Grandpa Franklin frowning at Uncle Thomas, still holding a hand protectively over the eggs, in mid-count. I could see him sitting with his knees on his chest, and the sun shining down on his head. The waves reached his toes, but then slithered back into the ocean, as if they were afraid to go anywhere further. I stopped in front of him, breathing heavily, and sat down next to him. I put the pile of drawing down, in between both of us, and he put his hand over it. It looked protective in a way, like the way Grandpa Franklin had looked with the eggs.
"Marcus…." I began. He didn't turn his head or anything, so I placed my hand over his, making it look tiny and pale in comparison to his. He looked down at my hand, and then looked up at me. "You draw beautifully." I said, trying a smile, but he didn't smile back. He rested his head back on his knees.
"I hate him, and I hate here, we don't belong here, don't you realize that, Marisa?" "We don't belong with rebelling, short-tempered, southern buffoons like-like him." Spat Marcus, each word coated in venom like rage. When he turned his head again, his eyes flicked from anger, to the saddest eyes I have ever seen.I kissed his cheek, and he just turned his head away again.
"It'll get better." I promised, and I brushed my finger over his cheek. He looked as if he was going to cry. "It will." I insisted. He just shook his head, and a tear slide down his cheek, but he acted as if he hadn't even noticed.
"If mom wouldn't have-have died, then we would still be happy, we wouldn't have to answer to people like him and nobody would of known that I-I miss her." Said Marcus, his voice starting to crack. I instinctively put my arms around him, like Marcus did for me whenever I was upset, and I held him there. I could feel another tear slip down, and fearlessly drop onto my shoulder.
"Well, I'll tell you what, I'll do your chores, as long as you promise to try to just ignore Uncle- I mean "him", and I think everything will be a lot better." I said, still holding him there. Marcus sniffed, and brought his head up off my shoulder. He just stared at me, but then hugged me, and started wiping the silver lines from tears off his face. He hugged me, and I felt instantly better, and knew we had a deal. I then took another chance.
"Marcus….they really are beautiful," I said looking down at the drawing.
"Yeah, I've been working on them for awhile." He said, his eyes looking happier, even proud. "I've just always been good at drawing, it's just been that way." He explained. A smile spread across his face, and I watched his face light up instantly.
"I really liked the pictures of me." I said, and I watched Marcus stare at me.
"You really did….." he said.
"Yeah, I really did." I said smiling up at him, he returned the smile, and he held my hand. We both starting watch the waves roll in and out, and soon they were starting to wash under our feet, as the day went by. Soon we got up, tired of sitting, and we starting running around, splashing in the waves. I rolled up my jeans, and kept splashing, until I saw a flicker of light over in a pile of seaweed. I was about to tell Marcus, but he was busy studying a sea shell he had found. It was small and black, and the lines of it were a grayish white color, and he seemed fascinated by it. So I decided to explore the treasure myself. As I walked over, I realized it wasn't just a pile in seaweed….it was a baby whale, washed up on shore. It must have been the size of me, but it looked very skinny and dry. I bent down, and put my finger on it. It surprisingly opened up his eye, and seemed to plead for help. In my shock I called out to Marcus, who quickly looked around, put the seashell in his pocket, and ran over to me. When he set eyes on the baby whale, his mouth fell open, and he just looked at it in disbelief, as if it really didn't exist, and really shouldn't be here.
"We need to help it." I said frowning down at it.
"Well do you know how to take care of a whale?" he asked, frowning, but still not taking its eyes off the whale.
"No," I admitted, "But that's no excuse why we shouldn't help it." I said squatting down so I could look into its black round eyes. "Well…maybe I don't but Grandma Luna does." I said, smiling down.
"Are you kidding me Marisa?" Marcus said, "We can't tell her, Uncle Thomas will probably offer to slaughter it for all we know." He said, a edge of hate in his voice. I know that sounded ridiculous, but he did have a point….what if they refused to help? Or made us put it back?
"The barn." I said "We could put it in the big tub were the horses drink, theirs two, so the horses should be fine." I said. Marcus nodded, but still just kept frowning.
"But Marisa…how do we get it to the barn?" asked Marcus.
"Can you carry it?" I said, a edge of hope in my voice.
"I don't know….."
"Well you have to try!" "We may not belong here, but neither does this whale, it wouldn't survive in the ocean, look how skinny it is, and it's still a baby, it's almost helpless!" I said. Marcus just nodded again. I looked into his eyes, and tried to look as pleading as possible, and that seemed to work, because he squatted down, and pulled the whale into his arms. He grunted, and shifted his legs, but stood there and began walking towards the barn.
"I'll need you to open up the back door to the barn," said Marcus. I nodded, and kept my eyes on the whale. It didn't even put up a fight about being carried that's how helpless it was…. I will protect you, I said over and over again in my mind, as I stared at the whale. I will, I insisted. When we reached the barn, I opened the door, as Marcus had asked, and lead him to where the large oak tub was. The baby whale fit into it, and I added more water from the water pump outside. It seemed very grateful for the water, and then I realize it was missing something. I ran inside, thankfully the kitchen was empty, found a large tub of sea salt, and carried it back outside. I started pouring it into the tub, and then added more water, until their seemed to be a equal amount of salt and water. The whale twitched its tail, in a mini happy dance, and both I and Marcus smiled. I had Marcus help me push the tub into the very back of the barn, which was darkened. I took one of the hay racking tools, and jammed it into the wall, so a tiny bit of light streamed in onto the whales face. Its eyes instantly looked happier, and it swished its tail around again. "Tails." I said staring down at it.
"What?" said Marcus looking at me.
"Tails, that's its name." I said smiling up at him. Marcus nodded, and we walked out of the barn, hand in hand.
The sun was going down, but my spirit had only gone up. Everything was beginning to spiral up, and I thought things had taken a deadly drop. I had learned a lot in one day, and maybe, just maybe, we would stay, we would be happy, we would have a family not just another temporary home. I could be wrong, I've been wrong about a lot of things. But there was something different about this home; it had actually given me something. Hope.