Capture the Flag

Chapter 1

I have never tried to brag about my intelligence. My dad has always marveled at the way my brain works but in all honesty, it's thanks to his genes that I am the way I am. He's smart too, but a different kind of smart. A businessman who makes his living by the cunning way he sells and buys. He always compares himself to a snake, but I simply see his coercive ways as our source of life.

See, dad makes the money for the family. Mom has slowly slipped into a state of depression after Teddy died. She's become a shell of the woman she was. She used to be an artist and a good one at that. I remember sitting on her lap as she painted streaks of baby blue over a pale pink background.

"Mommy, it looks like cotton candy" I said, reaching my hand up to touch the wet paint, leaving tiny hand smudges in the middle of her beautiful artwork.

"It's the sky, sweetheart," she told me, pulling my arm away as I tried to trace the clouds she had created. "It's the sunrise, a new day, a new beginning"

That was the first piece she gave me, and at 5 years old I looked up to my mom like none other. My older brother Teddy was 11 at the time and would laugh at me as I stared at her painting in awe. He didn't appreciate art as I did.

"Bear! Time for dinner!"

My dad calls me down for the one meal a week he gets to make for us. On Sundays we always try to eat as a family, even though mom barely touches her plate, it's nice to be a family if only for a moment.

"Cece, c'mon let's go downstairs" I stand at the door of my younger sister's room as she is reading her conspiracy theory book. She calls it her guilty pleasure but I secretly think she believes in that shit. At 16 years old you would expect her to be obsessed with girly things like popularity or boys but she's just as nerdy as she was when she came out of the womb.

"I'm coming I'm coming" you'd think with such a close age gap we'd be close, but instead our relationship is like we're distant cousins. Unfamiliar and cold.  

We come downstairs to a messy kitchen. Pots are strewn about, there's sauce on the wall, and something's burning in the oven. He's not the greatest cook, but I love him all the more for trying. Not that anyone else shows him the appreciation he deserves.

"Dad..." I start.

"It's the bread, I got it, Barrow," he says with a chuckle.

He pulls out the pan of slightly charred bread and proceeds to plate the pasta, and sauce at each of our spots. I laugh, this almost feels normal, almost. Mom comes down in her robe along with a stuffed animal bear. She insists Teddy's spirit lives in it and always brings him down for dinner. It happened about a year after the accident. She mourned like the. rest of us, but her grief turned into something different. It made her into a completely new person. My dad used to make her go to counseling, not anymore.

We've stopped asking her about it.

After gently placing the bear on Teddy's chair, she folds a napkin over his lap.  She only ever talks to the bear and even now, she speaks in soft whispers to it as she begins piling pasta on to it. I turn away.

"Cece, how was school today?" My dad asks, taking his seat at the table. He also turns away from my mother, trying to go about life as normal.

"It was good," she says taking a huge forkful of pasta and shoving it into her mouth. She completely focusses her attention on the food in front of her, which isn't unusual for her. You would think we starved the girl based on the way she eats.

"Alright then," my dad says, realizing the lack of attention and turning to me, "how was your day Barrow?"

I smile, "not too bad dad. Ms. Harrison is looking for more enrichment opportunities for me now that I've cruised through most of her assignments this semester.

My dad smiles in approval,  he always talks about working hard to be successful. The slurping noises draw both of our attention over to the other end of the table. My sister Cece is almost done with her plate after having slurped most of it into her mouth. Her chin is full of sauce. 

"And how about those college applications?" He asks, as he expertly twirls his noodles.

I'm watching my sister with sauce in her hair as I respond "it's going alright."

"May I be excused?" My sister asks, standing up and leaving before anyone can even respond. She runs up the stairs, probably to return back to her book. My dad and I both sigh silently. My mom, barely having touched her food, stands up and leaves shortly after without saying a word.

"I guess it's just us kid," my dad says. I share a smile with him as we both go back to our noodles. 

Looking back, I wish I could've been like Cece or mom and left for my room. To just block out the world for a minute and think about myself for once. Go read a book in bed or watch mind numbing television. Things would've been so much easier in the long run if I had.