Marie Lamba - What I Meant...

hat exactly did they say?

To call. I give my aunt a faint smile.

What did they say? You must think.

That is what they said, you stupid old cow! I want to scream this, but of course I don't. Okay. Let me backtrack a bit. I know this doesn't sound good, but I'm a nice person. Really. And I'm totally loving to my family. And, true, my aunt is part of my family, but from the Indian side. She's my dad's sister-in-law. Normally I love my Indian relatives, though I don't see them that often, but normally my Indian relatives are all sweet and nice and ask me questions about how I am and smile. Sadly, there is nothing normal about my aunt. Because she's my dad's brother's wife, I'm supposed to call her Chachi, but that sounds all affectionate, like she's someone who would hug me and make sticky sweet rosogullas for me and tell me to eat them all because I'm so skinny. Right. I guess that's the idea we all had when we turned our lives upside down to let Chachi live with us. It'll only be two years, my father had reasoned. Just long enough for my cousin to finish his undergraduate degree, and now, with my brother, Hari, at college, we have a bedroom free, so

You must tell me every word this person is saying, my aunt says. She is scowling now. As if I am hiding the answer to her problems. As if the entire universe is out to get her. I smile at this.

Eh? she says in a sharp voice. Her black eyebrows are raised, and she looks like she'd be happy to smack my knuckles with the portable phone she is waving at my face. Really, it'd be so easy to snatch the phone from her bony hand and whack her on the head with it. Not a hard whack, you know. Just a friendly rap. Just a way of saying, You asked the question and I answered it. Listen and move on!

My little sister Doodles comes running into the kitchen: It's gone! She looks panicked. Since Doodles is only eight and tends toward the dramatic, I figure she's lost something goofy, like her bubble-gum-wrapper collection. But she says, All my money. Gone!

Don't interrupt, Chachi says.

Wait, I say. Doodles, are you sure? She's been saving money for Christmas presents since the end of the summer. When she last showed me, her purse held a surprising thirty-eight dollars.

My purse was hanging on the back of my door. Now it's gone.

And? Chachi demands. How does this concern me?

I take a deep breath and remind myself of all the reasons my parents say I should be extra nice to Chachi. Because she is family, and family takes care of family no matter what. (This is my dad's way of thinking.) Because she's been all alone in America since her husband died and her only son has gone to college. Be a good person and just try to be patient. (This is my mom's view.)

It was a lot of money for Doodles, I try to explain. This means a lot to her.

Chachi frowns at my sister. It is gone now. You go too.

Tears brim in Doodles's eyes as she rushes from the room.

Why did you have to be so

Tell me, she says. What was said, exactly?

Patience, Sang. Lots of patience. The woman said, Is Kajal there? I said no. She said, Can you have her call Carol at Copy Stop? I said, Sure, what is the number? And she said I look at the pink message slip I filled out, and I read the number back to her. She said, Thank you. I said, Sure, goodbye. She said, Goodbye. Click. Dial tone.

My aunt bunches up her eyebrows. I'd like to say they're bushy, but no. They're delicate. She's younger than my mom, and actually quite pretty, with her long black hair and heart-shaped face. Anyway, I used to think she was pretty before I got to know her better. So my aunt bunches up her eyebrows and says, in that harsh accent of hers, No. Think again. I must know.

I long to scream, LEAVE ME ALONE! THE TRUTH ISN'T SOME MULTIPLE-CHOICE TEST! IT IS WHAT IT IS! For one terrible moment, I think I might actually do ityell in that tone I only have the nerve to use on my mom, who has to love me no matter what. I tighten my mouth, holding back the words. The tension between my aunt and me is palpable. Electric.

ZEEP-ZEEP!

We both jump, for the phone in her hand has sprung to life. My aunt answers it, saying in the softest, kindest voice, 'Allo?

Forgoing the snack I'd originally journeyed to the kitchen to find, I take my cue and sprint through the living room and up the steps leading to the bedrooms. My sister is sitting on her bed, her back to me, arms crossed.

Doodles? You okay?

She doesn't turn around, or even move. I realize she's trying hard not to cry.

Don't let her bug you, I say in a low voice.

Sangeet! Chachi shouts. Telephone!

In my own room, I grab my phone and say, Hey, just as I close the door and pop the lock.

It's me, Gina, my best friend, says.

I sink onto my bed and twirl a lock of my black hair round and round my finger. What did you do now?

What's that supposed to mean?

The phone? Gina usually meets me online after school. A phone call means she's grounded for something. No Internet. No radio. Somehow her parents never consider the phone as a privilege to be taken away. Probably because Gina never touches itunless she's grounded.

My mom's totally going nuts on me today. Like there's some sort of unspoken deadline for when things should get done.

I make a sympathetic sound while I stare at my ceiling. Glossy pictures of Orlando Bloom as an elf and Orlando Bloom as a pirate stare back at me as if I'm the one he's fighting for.

I told her I'd clean up my room, right? She didn't say it had to be today, though, did she? No. I said I'd do it, and I would've if she'd just give me a frickin' chance. God. Parents want everything yesterday. Like we don't have anything important to do ourselves. You are so lucky you aren't me.

I glance around my own pristine room and think Gina doesn't know how good she's got it. If I had as much as a towel on the floor, the world would come to an end. Gina? Her room is loaded with towels and shirts and books and magazines. She has wall-to-wall carpeting, but for the life of me I can't remember what color it is.

So, Gina continues, she starts, like, screeching at me, and I'm all like, Calm down, already, and whatever, and then Her voice sounds all choked and emotional.

I sit up. Gina's not the emotional sort. She's more like a tough girl with a hidden heart of gold. Something's happened. Something huge. Gina, you can still go tomorrow night, right?

Silence.

Ohmygod. This can't be happening. I feel my ears ring and I know I'm panicking. How am I supposed to go on this date without Gina? I'm not allowed to date. Not until I'm sixteen, even though I tried to tell my parents that fifteen is definitely old enough and that I'm mature enough and that only complete geeks with nerdy parents aren't allowed to have boyfriends. Gina had it all planned out. How she and I would go ice-skating together on Friday and just have Jason and his friend Glen secretly meet us there, and how my parents couldn't get mad, because it wasn't really a date, and how it wouldn't be weird because it wasn't like it was just Jason and me, which would freak me out completely anyway, and how, best of all, my parents would never know anything about the boys being there. It was perfect. I've spent all week deciding what I'll wear, and I've almost narrowed it down to my final choices, and if that pimple on my left temple would just go away, the world would be perfectexcept now everything is falling apart.