'Dysfunctional: not operating normally or properly'
That was one way to describe Clara Campbells family. Dysfunctional; not operating properly. That was just what happened when your older siblings leave you.
Or that's what Clara had always believed...
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| Clara Campbell |
"Clara" my mother's clipped voice reached my ears, as I stood with my head against the wall of our apartment. I was using the phone that had been hooked up to our apartment. "Yes mother?" I muttered, wondering why she would be calling me at this hour on a Tuesday morning.
Levi had left during the night, needing to check on his brother, while I stayed up, staring at the TV that had never once changed channels on its own. "Your father and I are getting a divorce. I'll be staying in Nevada for the next couple of weeks to sort it out"
She had just dropped that bombshell like it wouldn't affect me. I guess it didn't as much as I supposed it would because I had seen this coming for years. I had been waiting for the ticking time bomb to happen for about 3-5 years now.
"Oh" was all I responded, before I heard my mother hum. Not long after, the phone line went dead, as I hung it back up on the wall. My mother only ever rang during the week if she needed to tell me something, and it was never 'I love you' or 'I miss you'. She could never miss someone like me, even when I provided her with the lifestyle she had.
But the realization of knowing that the last words my father may ever say to me for sometime now, would be "move it kid". It was his common three words to me, and I would cherish them, because that was some sort of love that I got.
So, now my world had been rocked once again, knowing that both of my parents would be gone from San Francisco for a while now. I breathed out a sigh of relief, returning to the couch, closing my eyes to try and get some sort of form of sleep.
I wasn't worried about what would happen to me, knowing that this was more than normal for my life. My parents were never home during the week, which could turn into a few weeks or months at a time, but knowing that only one of them would return, hurt a little more, even when I would never admit it, but I had a sort of softer spot for my father.
---
Heading down to the diner gave me some sort of normality that I didn't know I needed, but I was stopped at the bottom of the stairs, by the sweet old lady that sat at the front desk. She had watched my grow up, as she had all of my other siblings.
Marilyn had worked here for as long as anyone could remember, always being like a grandmotherly figure to me. When I was in elementary school, if she could make it, she would come and watch performances or walk me home from school. In her old age, she doesn't come nearly as much as she used to, but I understood.
I had to understand what others were going through when I couldn't understand my complicated life. "Clara, dear, an unknown number called. I answered for you, and you wouldn't believe who was on the other end"
As soon as she said it, I had a rough idea of who would be calling. Of course he wouldn't remember the apartment phone number after 9 years of not being here. "Which one was it?" I hoped that it wasn't who I thought it was.
