The Wings Of A Caged Bird | First Draft

chapter 31: a last chance

Aunt Sayra knocks at the door of my room to let me know there's a call for me.

I glance at the clock. A little past 5pm, which is an odd time for Edgar to call me. He's very sincere about his part-time job, and never slacks off in any way there. I begin to worry that something bad has happened to him. Exchanging a nervous glance with July, who is sitting right beside me, I get off the bed and walk over to the telephone near the dining table.

I pick up the receiver. "Hey, Edgar? What's wrong? Is everything okay?"

"It's me," replies an unfamiliar voice from the other side.

"Huh?"

"It's me, Dale."

"Huh?"

"It's me, Dale."

I think I'm hearing it wrong. "Who?"

"Dale."

"Wha- how- you- what? How did you-"

"Your friend gave it to me."

"Oh . . ." That bastard! I'm gonna kill him!

And yet, when the initial shock passes, I find my heart rate starting to pace up. Dale called me. I don't care for whatever reason, but he went through the trouble of getting my number just to contact me. I hold the receiver with both hands and press it tighter to my ear, as if otherwise the connection will cut down. My brother called me. For some reason, that makes me awfully happy. I thought no one from my blood family cares that I went away. But if he called me, it must mean he cares.

But then, another thought strikes me. What if he called me for some other reason? Did something happen to mom? Maybe dad? Maybe Edgar?

Quickly, I ask, "W-why are you- why did you call me? Is everything okay?"

"Yes."

"Oh." Now what? What am I supposed to say? I begin to restlessly tap my foot on the ground.

"Ask him how he is, for Galium's sake!" I hear a distant voice say from the other side. I recognize it to be brother Aster's. Ah, now I get it. He must have forced Dale to call me. I feel a mild disappointment settle over me.

"How are you?" Dale quickly asks.

"Yeah . . . I'm okay. How are you?"

"Yeah." He doesn't elaborate further. Does he realize that doesn't answer my question? Maybe he is nervous. The thought makes me smile. Why would anyone be so nervous talking to their own brother on the phone? But I know one thing. While it is the result of the years of distance between us born from neglect, this nervousness also is a sign that he is trying, trying to get rid of this distance, trying to be the brother he couldn't be before.

So I decide to try too. Just as an awkward silence was starting to take form, I ask, "How is mom and dad?"

"They're okay. Mr. Lockwood came back. A day after you left."

"Oh, that's good."

He doesn't reply. I wonder if his silence hints he doesn't think it's good. Maybe this is the one thing the two of us will never agree on.

Another awkward silence. Again, I hear brother Aster say from the back, "Ask him when he's coming back! You forgot all the questions right after he picked up the phone!"

"When are you coming back?" A pause. "Are you coming back?"

"Yeah, I am." I lean against the chair. "It's not like I have anywhere else to go . . . but anyways, I will come back in-" Suddenly, my words get stuck. I bite my lip, my stomach beginning to churn from the unwelcomed reminder. I stare wide-eyed at the wall in front of me as I desperately try to stop my rushing mind from calculating the remaining days. No no no no . . . how many days till he . . .? No-