Nuclear Family

Chapter One: Today is the Day

My alarm clock said 7:30 AM.
“Five more minutes,” I told myself, “Then, I’ll get up.”
I rolled over and pulled my pillow tight over my head. I drifted off into that place where it feels like you’re sleeping, but you’re not. It was here that she came to me. Kelly Morgan.
She was walking toward me, holding out her hand, reaching for me.
I reached for her, I felt myself smiling. Just as we were about touch, I heard music.
“Is…is that Aerosmith?” I asked her. It seemed to be getting closer and closer.
“I think so Eddie.” she said smiling. I turned to see where it was coming from. Sweeeeet emotion!
When I looked back, Kelly was moving farther and farther away. The farther away she moved, the louder the music got. I could barely hear Kelly’s voice over the music.
I watched her beautiful lips slowly mouth the words, “See ya Eddie!”
I squeezed my eyes tightly, blinking hard, willing myself back toward her, trying to make myself slide back in her direction.
But I couldn’t stop it. I was back in my room, reaching for my alarm clock instead of Kelly. “Shoot!” I called out as I slammed my hand down on the small black contraption that was blasting Aerosmith. “Thanks a lot. Stupid alarm clock.” I mumbled.

I rubbed my eyes. Then, it hit me. Today was the day. No, today was THE day. Today was the Family Day Carnival at school! I ran over to my closet and flung open the door.
I swished the clothes back and forth until I found just the right selection. I grabbed my sneakers and my new watch that I had just gotten for my birthday from my best friend Marc.
I slid the cool metal band over my wrist. PALS was inscribed on the clasp. I smiled when I saw this. PALS we have been, since kindergarten.
Now, we would be going to our last Family Day Carnival. This year we’re 8th graders. This year is our year.
Over the past two weeks, we had accepted our new roles with pride. We saw to it that the boys’ locker room was covered in toilet paper from floor to ceiling. We filled the key holes with crazy glue and sealed the windows shut in the cafeteria. And the final touch, for which Marc takes all the credit, we put a ton of baby powder on the blades of the ceiling fans in the cafeteria. Every morning, as we are full aware, the janitor switches on the fans. Last Friday morning, when we were running to our first class, we saw him covered in white powder from head to toe. All the kids pointed and laughed as he stormed past us on his way to the principals’ office. On this day, we nicknamed him ‘The Ghost’.

All of this, and more that they can’t possibly pin the blame on us for, was done in just our first two weeks.
Marc and I had to agree, our last year in middle school was, without a doubt, going to be very memorable.

I bounded down the stairs. I could smell my mother’s pancakes and fresh coffee brewing. I looked out the screen door. My father was watering the grass.

“Ed. Give me a hand over here please.” My mother looked at me with a sideways glance. “I’m glad to see you’re up early.” she said sarcastically.
“I thought I’d have to come up there and drag you out of bed.” My mother went back to flipping her pancakes and handed me a pitcher of orange liquid.
I peered into it. There were pits and rinds from an orange swirling about, making a sickening orange design. “Freshly squeezed?” I asked, with a sick look on my face.
“Yep! I did it!” Celeste yelled from atop a kitchen stool, her face filled with pride. She was grabbing the syrup from the closet and was carrying three glasses with her other arm.
My mother scowled at me, “Help her, please!”
I put the pitcher of swill down on the table, and went over to help Celeste. I grabbed the syrup and two of the glasses out of her hands.
“How ever did you manage to get so much puke into one container?” I said looking up at her. “Next time, why don’t you try not to have Max throw up in it?” Our dog let out a whimper and tilted his head to the side.
“Mom!” Celeste shouted, “Make him say he’s sorry!”
“Eddie, give your sister a break. At least she got up early to help me.” My mother handed me a plate of steaming pancakes.
“What? What did I say?” I asked, looking hurt and stunned. “I just asked her to make it look like orange juice next time.” I added under my breath, “And not dog vomit.”
“Mom! Did you hear him? Did you?” Celeste shouted. She jumped down from her stool and slammed the glass down hard on the table. “That is IT! You’d better run, ‘cause now I’m mad.” She started to run toward me.
“Oh my goodness!” I squealed in a high pitched voice. “She’s mad! What have I done? Good Lord, who will rescue me?”
“You’re going to need and ambulance!” she charged after me and I darted out the screen door and jumped down the porch steps.

My dad was winding up the hose. “Hey Eddie! Ready for the carnival?”
I tried to look casual, and stuck my hands in my pockets. “Yeah. Uh, mom says it’s time to eat.” I looked behind me to see that Celeste was standing in the doorway.
“You’re a real jerk Eddie. You know that?” she said it matter of fact, not yelling, just said it as though she was simply stating an obvious fact.
I turned toward my father, “What did I do to provoke that kind of an insult, I ask you?”
He looked up, “The usual Ed?”
“Yeah, Dad, the usual.”
“Tell mom we’ll be right in Celeste.” My dad said to her with a smile. I waited for my father to finish. I let him go into the house first. I wasn’t taking any chances.

All through breakfast Celeste glared at me. When she was halfway through her glass of puke-juice, she set it down, and spoke directly at me.

“I know what makes you act the way you do.”
I stopped eating. I put my fork down.
“Really, doctor? What is your diagnosis?” I folded my arms across my chest and settled in.

“I read about it in a magazine. You act like that because you feel insecure about who you are. You make others feel bad about themselves because you feel bad about yourself. You know that Kelly girl you drool over?” I sat up. Now she was going too far.
“I do NOT drool over her!” I unfolded my arms and put my hands on the table.
Celeste wiped her mouth with her napkin, and continued, “She’ll never like you ‘cause you’re a jerk. And according to this month’s Love Poll in Teen Beat magazine, girls don’t go for jerks like you. It’s a fact. I guess you’ll just have to deal with it.”
“You’re in sixth grade. What do you know?” was all I could muster.
“I know a heck of a lot more than you do. Jerk.”

“What did you do to her?”, came my fathers’ voice from behind his paper. My sister finished her swill and took her plate off the table and put it in the dishwasher.
I leaned back in my chair and raised my hands over my head. “Please God. Send me a sign. Tell me I am not really related to these people!” My parents sat in silence and looked at me. My mother shook her head.

“See?” Celeste said smugly as she went up the stairs, “Even God thinks you’re a jerk.”

I looked at her open mouthed. “Are you going to allow her to say things like that to me mother?” I asked.
“Honey. God doesn’t think you’re a jerk. But you could try being nicer to your sister though.” My mother began to get up and clear the table. “And, Ed, take out the trash please. You forgot about it last night and the dog got into it.”
“Help your mother.” my fathers’ voice again came from behind the paper. “And then I’ll meet you around front. We’ve got to load up the Fish Booth for the carnival. Remember?” I carried my dish over to the sink and grabbed the garbage bag.

I pushed open the back door and slowly went down the steps. I heard a faint rustling in the bushes next door, but I ignored it. I was too busy wondering if what Celeste said about me being a jerk was true. Does Kelly think I’m a jerk? I turned to pull the lid off the garbage can. All of a sudden, I was hit hard in the back of the head with something. Then, I felt cold liquid dripping down my back. I looked on the ground and saw the remains of a red water balloon.
“MARC!” I shouted. When I turned around I could see him scurrying into his backyard. Climbing over lawn furniture and laughing all the way.
“Ed! You coming?” My fathers’ voice held me in my spot, “Shoot!” I said ringing out my shirt. “Coming, dad!”


“Got you again, did he?” my father was laughing. “Kind of like Karmic Justice, I’d say.”
“Karmic what? I asked him, as I lugged a heavy sheet of plywood into the back of the minivan.
“You know, when all the bad things you’ve done come back to bite you in the – you-know-what. Know what I mean?” he said, still laughing.
“Yeah, dad. I know.”

Hopefully, my Karmic-whatever would give me a break today and come bite me another time. I had plans for today. Big plans with Kelly. Yes, today was going to be the day.




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