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CHAPTER FOUR | AMERICAN RESIDENCE
The Parker apartment was small, dingy and smelt unbearable.
Of course, Xiaoyu knew it would be a much less expensive apartment compared to her huge apartment back in Shanghai, but she hadn't expected it to be this tiny. However, Xiaoyu was loving it. It may have been small, but the space was well-used and it gave her a warm, homely feeling. It was nice to have something that gave her a homely feeling. After all, she hadn't really had a home for months.
The dingy-ness was certainly due to the weather outside. The rain that had started at Schyler Park hadn't ceased. And it wasn't a light drizzle either. It was harsh, unrelenting rain that had lashed against the bus window panes and lashed against Xiaoyu and Peter when they'd gotten off at the bus-stop and ran to the apartment. The rain had brought about sad, grey mood and it was a little cold in the apartment. But Xiaoyu could handle it, she wasn't going to let some bad weather ruin her first impression.
However the smell was truly awful, and even Xiaoyu couldn't think of a way to excuse it. It only took a short look round the apartment, however, to see why the apartment smelt like someone had died: it was May; she was cooking.
"Aunt May!" Peter exclaimed, shutting the door behind them. "I thought we agreed on having takeouts until you went to some cooking lessons." He opened his mouth to say something else but, unfortunately, inhaled the bad scent once more and started to cough. "You need them." He spluttered before covering his nose and mouth with his sweater.
Those were the first words Xiaoyu had heard Peter say since Schyler Park.
Even on the bus, Peter and Xiaoyu hadn't spoke, even though they were sitting next to each other.
Xiaoyu hadn't worried about it at the time, but now she was a little curious. Perhaps Peter hadn't spoken to her because Xiaoyu looked uninviting. It was unfortunate, but she had a resting-bitch face. Paired with her headphones, she must have looked closed off and possibly angry. She hoped not: she didn't want Peter to think she was rude if they were going to spend the next year together. It would make for an awkward stay.
"We can't get takeouts forever Peter." May told her nephew, shaking her spatula in his direction. "You'll end up looking like those steamed pork buns you love to eat."
Peter opened his mouth to protest but May was quick to change the subject, her eyes falling on Xiaoyu instead.
"Did you get home alright? Was Peter nice to you?"
Xiaoyu opened her mouth but, yet again, May didn't let anyone speak and resumed talking again. All Xiaoyu was able to get out was a tiny, "Yes," before the dark-haired woman began another conversation.
"How did you find each other anyway? Xiaoyu called me, I heard some cheering them all of a sudden Peter was with you." She said.
Xiaoyu wanted to explain but she was tired, as she'd been awake for nearly thirty-two hours, and her mind wasn't working as fast as usual. It was like her thoughts were being weighed down in water, making them sluggish and slow. The fact that she had to translate everything from one language to another didn't help either.
"Spiderman, handbag, boom." She explained, trying to mimic her words with actions.
May raised an eyebrow and turned to Peter slowly, "Spiderman, huh?" She asked, her arms folding.
"Yeah he was there and he helped Xiaoyu get her handbag. I was standing close by so I heard you talking on Xiaoyu's phone. I went over after Spiderman went away." Peter explained, his hands laced together, partially hidden by the sleeves of his black-and-white, striped, oversized sweater.
"Sounds logical." May said simply, unfolding her arms and putting the spatula down on the counter so she could slip on an oven glove. As she opened the oven and reached in with the gloved hand to take out something, she maintained a grumpy expression, shooting it in Peter's direction. "You know," she said to Peter, "Ned was calling me, asking me where you were today."
"Yeah, he bought the new LEGO Hogwarts and we were going to build it today. I told him I was busy today though, so said we could do it on Sunday."
May shook her head, bringing a tray out of the oven. "Well apparently he didn't get the memo. He called three times, asking what time you were coming round. I didn't want to disappoint him so I told him you were doing teenage male things."
Peter's jaw dropped. "Aunt May!" He exclaimed, his face morphing into one of utter despair. "Why did you tell him that? Couldn't you have just told him I was off saving the world or something like that because now he'll think I was watching po- Aunt May oh my god get the fire extinguisher."
Xiaoyu and May both followed Peter's gaze to the dish May had just taken out of the oven. It had contents inside that looked like regurgitated chunks of dead fish, a churned substance that should be condemned to the flames of hell. Speaking of flames, the dish was literally on fire.
Everyone started to panic.
May immediately did the worst thing and chucked her oven glove into the tray which only made the fire spark and grow bigger. Peter ran to get the fire extinguisher but was momentarily blinded as the sprinkler on the ceiling suddenly went off and startled him so badly he fell on the ground. Luckily, Xiaoyu's father hadn't been a stellar cook so Xiaoyu's instincts quickly kicked in.
An enormous, empty pan was atop the counter, alongside May's atrocious (flaming) cooking so Xiaoyu ran to the kitchen. It was hot, it's metal sides warmed by the fire that was only inches away. However there wasn't a cooking glove anymore so Xiaoyu picked it up as quickly as she could and chucked it over the dish.
Without oxygen, the fire slowly died until there was nothing but a warm amber glow peaking out from the sides of the overturned pan.
May let out a gasp of relief and flopped to the ground.
There was no talking for a good, long minute as the three let their ears adjust to the shrill ringing of the fire alarm and the hiss of the sprinkler. Both must have been very old because the fire alarm spluttered for a bit before stopping and, a few heartbeats later, nothing came out of the sprinkler but snapping noises. Noises that, also, stopped as the seconds clocked by.
Thus, there was silence in the apartment for a little while. That was until Peter had the initiative to ask, "Does anyone know the number for McDonalds?"
