Mandy stared at English test on her desk. It had been easy enough – up until the last question: Essay – Write a few paragraphs about a person in your life that you admire
She could think of a few people she might want to write about, and probably do well enough she’d get graded good on the essay. The problem was she was pretty sure that, depending on who she wrote about, it would be shown to those beyond her teacher – like the school administration, or her mom and step father. The first person that came to mind was her Dad, but that idea was nixed pretty quick. Her mom had been harping on her for the last year to ‘just get over’ her Dad’s death.
Of course, that was around the time she announced she was getting remarried. The second person was Michael, but she didn’t feel like getting a lecture from her mom or anyone else about admiring a gay man. That pretty much left her “Uncle” Dave, Michael’s father. That carried its own risks, but she certainly wasn’t about to write about her mother or her new family – she couldn’t stand any of them.
Glancing at the clock and she bounced her leg out of mild testing anxiety, she switched her pencil for a sharper one, and began to write, keeping in mind the kind of school she was attending.
A person in my life whom I admire is my godfather Dave. He was my father’s best friend, and has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. I feel he exemplifies what it is to be a good Christian due to his many virtuous qualities. He always shows kindness to others, and I’ve never heard him say a truly unkind thing about another person (Temperence, Kindness). He is considered a pillar in the small community I grew up in, frequently donating to charitable organizations or sponsoring local sports teams or other efforts (Charity).
He’s persistent in pursuing his company’s goals (clean energy), and is empathetic to his employees, though does not shy away from doing what needs to be done, whether it be out on the floor working with his employees as needed, or behind a desk taking care of managerial duties (Humility). Despite a difficult home life due to an unwanted divorce and a wild child, he persists and tries to support the family he does still have, while trying to gently steer them back onto the right path (Diligence, Patience).
Uncle Dave’s work ethic and faith in others and their capabilities helps remind me that the world isn’t always so dark, and I hope one day that he, and others like him, get the understanding, if not recognition, that they deserve.
As she read it over, she wrinkled her nose. She knew Dave wasn’t Christian, but her mother and step family didn’t, and neither did the school. Besides, there really wasn’t anything that was a lie. At best, the truth was stretched a little bit. After checking it over for spelling and grammar, she flipped it over so the back page of the test, specifically added so no one could cheat once someone had finished their test, was facing up. Five minutes before the bell rang, the teacher came around and collected the tests, and they were dismissed once the bell rang.
She smiled politely at anyone who waved or said hi as she headed to her locker, but once there she ignored other people, in favor of focusing on getting her things together. She quickly gathered up anything she would need for working on homework over the weekend, then made her way to the bus lineup, and focused on staring out the window until she got home.
Home…it wasn’t, not really. She didn’t get along with her mother, and didn’t like her stepfather. Her step siblings she found annoying, so she tried to keep to herself. Finding her thoughts slipping towards the negative, she dug through her backpack for a pair of earbuds, but couldn’t find any. Grumbling, she pulled out her phone, but quickly put it away, having forgotten there was a parental lock on most everything on it.
All too soon, she was home. She only saw her mother’s minivan in the driveway, but someone could be parked in the garage. She stood and gripped the strap of her bag tight as she made her way off the bus before heading into the house itself. It was a very nice house, in a very prominent neighborhood of New Orleans, a city she’d been wanting to visit for a long time. Too bad she never got to see anything she was interested in since she moved here. As though summoned by a sixth sense, her mother was right there waiting when she walked in the door.
“How was school?”
“Fine. I had a couple tests.”
“How do you think you did?”
“I think I did okay.” she said, and stifled a yawn.
“Been staying out of trouble?” she asked, a stern tone to her voice.
“Yes, Mom.”
“Good. I’m so glad we moved – it seems to have gotten you out of that element and away from all the awful influences.”
No mom, you’ve just taken away everything that gave me any measure of enjoyment. she thought, but managed a tired smile. “Is it okay if I relax in my room before I meet Becky and Sarah at the library later?”
“I didn’t know you needed to go to the library.”
“I have that group history project, remember? It’s due Monday.”
“Oh, that’s right. Sorry. Yes, go relax. I’ll let your father know you might not be home for dinner.”
Mandy winced internally, but nodded and turned to head to her bedroom. Since she had learned of Adam’s existence, her mother had always referred to him as Mandy’s father. There were protests, and a compromise to respectfully call him Adam or Mr. Norwood were soundly rejected. She refused to call him Dad, and tried to get around it as much as possible by not addressing him at all if she could help it. It didn’t seem to matter to her mother how much it hurt to have her actual father replaced so suddenly and then forgotten.
After she got to her room, she set her things down and closed the door, then promptly looked for her stuffed bear, Sir Mister. She wanted something to cuddle, and it was one of the few reminders of her Dad that she had here. Try and she might though, she couldn’t find it, and the only conclusion she could come up with was that her mother had been going through her room…again. Annoyed she made her way to the kitchen where her mother most likely was. On a hunch, she paused and changed direction, heading to the garage, where she flipped on the lights after quietly opening the door from the house.
Sure enough, there were several boxes with a variety of things in them, labeled “Donations”. There, nestled in one of the boxes, was Sir Mister. Quickly, she snatched the bear up and hugged him tight, and looked through the boxes to see if anything else of her was in there. Finding a few novels she’d hung on to from the move in there, she made a note of which ones they were to grab ebooks of later, and headed back into her room, where she promptly stuffed Sir Mister into her backpack.
After a half hour from the time she had originally headed to her room had passed, she shouldered her bag, and headed to the kitchen.
“Mom? I’m headed to the library now.”
“How are you going to get there?”
“I can call a cab.” she replied calmly, knowing that her mother disapproved of Lyft and Uber, constantly crying that the drivers could be predators. “Becky said she’d bring me home, unless you want to let me borrow the van.”
“Alright.” her mother said. “You can borrow the van. You’ve always been a careful driver, and I’d feel more comfortable about you driving then you getting into a car with a stranger.” she reached for the hook where her set of keys hung, and handed them over.
“Thanks mom.” she said, turning to leave, then paused and faced her mother again. “Hey mom? I tried to find Sir Mister when I was cat napping, but didn’t find him. Do you know where he is?”
“Who’s Sir Mister again?”
“My stuffed bear.”
“That old thing? I put it in a donation box. You’re too old for stuffed animals.”
“Daddy gave him to me though….”
Her mother stopped her dinner prep work and looked at her daughter, hands on her hips. “Honestly Amanda, you’re seventeen. That’s too old for childish names and childish toys. Besides, you don’t need any reminders of Claude. It’s high time you got over him.”
Mandy knew from experience that starting an argument was only going to net her a strict grounding, so she said nothing and headed out to the car, and proceeded to do her errands. She drove out to the library and parked in the parking lot, leaving her cell phone in the car, but grabbing her bag before walking a few blocks down to a post office, where she carefully wrapped Sir Mister in bubble wrap and gently tucked him into a small box that was then sealed and addressed to California. She knew Michael would keep him safe for her, though it broke her heart to think that she’d no longer have him to comfort her on stormy nights or when she was lonely in general.
Once Sir Mister was in the hands of the post office and she had tracking, she headed back to the library, pausing to get her phone out of the van, and silence it on her way in. While there was, in fact, a project due on Monday, she’d already finished it. There was no meeting with Becky or Sarah. No…the meeting was with an internet connected computer so she could message Michael. Not ideal to do it in public, but it was the only way she could.
MissMandy: You there?
ForeverFab: Where the hell have you been?! It’s been ages!
MissMandy: I know, but Mom and Adam don’t trust me
ForeverFab: Whyever not?
MissMandy: Because I was a “bad kid” back in Cali, and when I first got here, apparently. I disrespected my parents and wore goth clothes and read stories with evil things.
ForeverFab: Evil things? Like, Satan and stuff?
MissMandy: You know what books I used to have. Harry Potter and other paranormal, urban fantasy type stuff.
ForeverFab: Oh yeah. Wait, what do you mean “had?”
MissMandy: If I didn’t get it to you, I pretty much don’t have it. They made me get rid of my books, my entire wardrobe, they monitor my phone on a regular basis, they come into my room on a whim, and just today mom tried to donate Sir Mister. I’m lucky I found him, but she doesn’t know I rescued him. She up and told me I’m too old to have stuffies, and that I don’t need reminders of Dad! Said I need to ‘get over it’!
ForeverFab: Shit. She actually said that?
MissMandy: Yes, and I don’t know what to do. I can’t stand living here, at least not with them! My mom is even worse, if you can believe it…a religioso stepford wife! Adam is insufferable, and they both hold me to standards that the boys don’t have to deal with! I can only wear one set of earrings, and they have to be simple and basic. My hair has been stripped of it’s color. Moreover, they’re sending me to a Catholic school, and that isn’t even the worst part!
ForeverFab: If Catholic school isn’t the worst part, then I’m afraid of what is…
MissMandy: It’s an all-girs school, and there’s no music program! Of any kind! Even the all-boys school Adam’s kids go to have different band classes!
ForeverFab: Oh honey…you’re in hell, aren’t you?
MissMandy: Yes! I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about doing something stupid, too.
ForeverFab: I’m glad you haven’t. I don’t want to lose my bestie 🙁
MissMandy: I know, but unfortunately the only reason I didn’t is because if I failed, I think mom and Adam would either make things stricter, or put me in one of those awful halfway houses where you get brainwashed, and I don’t want either of those things.
ForeverFab: I wish I knew how to help 🙁
MissMandy: The only thing I’ve thought of (and yes, I’ve thought about it!) is to see if your Dad can hire a lawyer and adopt me out, or something. I mean, as far as I know mom forgot all about the legal papers she and Dad had signed citing him as my caretaker, should anything happen.
ForeverFab: I could always talk to him about it
MissMandy: No…he’d have to get a really good lawyer, and those cost a lot of money. Adam’s a lawyer, and I’m sure they’d fight it every step of the way and them forcibly baptise me or something.
ForeverFab: Ewww
MissMandy: Yeah. Oh, by the way I shipped Sir Mister to you. Will you take care of him for me?
ForeverFab: Yeah, of course.
MissMandy: Thanks
ForeverFab: Anytime.
She chatted with him a while longer, catching him up on what she could, and letting him fill her in on all the goings on back home. After a while, she reluctantly told him she had to go, asked him to say hi to his Dad for her, and then signed off and closed the incognito browser, but not before printing off some random material that could be used as a history project. She then made her way to the circulation desk, and checked out books she had placed on hold from the school’s computer to go along with her ruse, and headed to the van. A quick text to her mom to let her know she was on her way home, and she made her way back, using the same route she had taken to get there.
By the time she got back, her step family was home, and she should be right on time for dinner. Her stomach churned a little just thinking about it, but she put on a good face and headed inside, hanging up her mom’s car keys first thing. When she turned, she jumped, as her step father was standing right there, looking stern.
“Where were you?” he demanded.
“At the library, working on a project for school.”
“Give me your bag.” he said, holding out a hand. Mandy complied, though she hated being so complacent. She watched as he took her messenger bag and emptied it out, then did a thorough search of all the pockets, nooks and crannies before going through her purse and wallet, then her phone.
She waited as patiently as possible, though every time he did this it felt like an awful violation. In a way, she felt it was as bad as being strip searched. When he was finished, he let her put her things back and left, heading into the kitchen to converse with her mother. Biting back her anger, she leaned over to start putting her things back into her bag and purse. As she did so, her step brothers came in and jostled her. Either they didn’t care that they almost knocked her over, or they didn’t notice her.
She glanced up, noting that they were all wearing their letter jackets for Jesuit High School. She wasn’t entirely certain what to make of any of them, as they weren’t home a lot, what with all their sports practices and such. There were three, altogether – Samuel, Gabriel, and Seth.
Jesuit High School was, according to Adam’s boasts, the number one Catholic school in all of New Orleans, and he was proud to have his boys attend. Samuel and Gabriel were the eldest. Both were twins, though not identical; seniors at Jesuit, eighteen, and already accepted to their desired universities (Notre Dame for Samuel and Georgetown for Gabriel), though Mandy had no idea what they planned on studying. Seth was a junior, like herself. Like herself, he was seventeen.
Sam played football in the fall, then switched over to baseball in the spring. Gabe did wrestling over the winter, following that up with soccer in the spring. Seth meanwhile took up swimming and track. They were all a little loud and boisterous, and the pride of their father’s eye. Mandy just wanted to remain as much a part of the scenery as possible until she could get out of there.
She had apparently made a noise out of annoyance, because one of them (Seth, she thought), was nice enough to turn and apologize. She just acknowledged it, finished gathering her things and headed to her room. Michael would so gag if he saw this room came a thought, and it made her smile. For all her mother’s chiding that Mandy was too old for childish things, it certainly looked like a room meant more for someone who was either eight or eighty.
She sat down and stared at herself in the mirror. The girl who stared back didn’t look like her, didn’t feel like her. She bit her lower lip to keep from crying – emotion without good cause was frowned upon, and she didn’t want to have to explain red eyes. Just five more months she chanted in her head, over and over, until she no longer felt like crying. She took a deep breath and stared at the girl in the reflection. “Daddy, give me the strength to get through this.” she whispered.