Global Studies

Last Waltz

There were three other people at the table, but for possibly the first time in her life, everything revolved around Amara Baines, who, while barely sixteen, relished the attention. Normally, Amara would be a passive observer while the rest of her family talked about their issues, only chiming in every now and then. But tonight was different.

Amara's half-brother, Morton, walked up to the table, having just arrived from his home and showered.

Thomas, their father, teased, "Your third visit already. You're on track to beat last year. Want some pasta?"

"I'd love some."

It was a hot Florida night in June, and the air was heavy with emotion. The dining room was warmly lit, contrasting with the deep blue twilight outside. The sound of crickets began their nightly chorus, comforting in its repetition.

The scene would have been deeply peaceful had it not been so lively. Morton looked over at the family photo taken two years earlier, mounted on the wall of the dining room. This would be the last time they'd be eating as a family for a while.

Amara's parents shared a look of pride for her, but soon, a silent chill, more of anticipation than anxiety, swept across the room. Her family was very glad for her, but an uncertainty remained, a melancholy in everyone's psyche that she would go away soon.

Viviane, Amara's mother, asked, "So, what do you think it will be like?"

Amara said with a smile on her face, "It's going to be awesome."

"Remind me, what's the purpose of the summer program?"

"It's for people who might be interested in going to Winthrop and want a taste."

"Makes sense," said Viviane.

The light fixtures on the wall flickered, distracting Amara for a moment.

"Yeah," said Amara. "And it'll be different than school here and in Brazil, that's for sure."

Pangs of anxiety had seeped into Amara's chest on a regular basis, wondering how much she'd like it and if she'd miss her parents as much as she thought she would and a thousand other questions. She had heard a few vague stories from her father about what a prep school would be like.

Amara felt both excited and sad. It was not the cross between emotional pain and pleasure one might feel reading a touching book; no, it was not like that at all. There were rather two distinct emotions: a tug of war between the excitement of her journey and the sadness of leaving her family.

She asked her parents, "Do you remember how different things were before Dad took us to America?"

Thomas nodded.

Viviane said, "Yeah. In those days, I spoke very basic English and had to have Dad translate everything for me. Even going to the supermarket, I had to bring someone to help. Now, I have this whole America thing figured out."

"Do you think I can figure out the whole prep school thing," asked Amara.

"Absolutely," said Viviane.

A moment passed, and Amara felt slightly reassured.

"Amara, it's more than an adventure you have ahead of you. It's a journey," said Morton.

"It sure is," said Amara, smiling once more, her eyes twinkling. "Have you heard the story of how I figured out I wanted to go there?"

An exasperated look crossed Morton's face, but he tried to hide it almost immediately.