Family Values

As soon as the van stopped, children erupted from every opening. Eighteen-year-old Chuck waited until his parents and eleven of his siblings were out, then popped open the custom compartment where his sister’s wheelchair waited. Mom and Dad were first to the farmhouse door; they would have their hands full making preparations for tonight’s Family Values Ritual. It would be up to Chuck and Padmini to get their siblings organized. Eight of the thirteen were adopted children with special needs, so they’d have their hands full.

Padmini, having no legs, was easy to lift into her chair. As Chuck set her down, she settled onto the seat and gave a discrete tug on her blouse, so that the goat tattooed on her breast was covered up to the horns.

“I’ll go in and make sure everybody gets their teeth brushed and jammies on,” she said. “You get to chase down the hyperactives.”

“Right.”

It took some time, but he got them all in the house: the autistic boy who’d started wandering down the street, the twins jabbering in sign language with the neighbor’s cat, the wild ones working off their captivity-by-seatbelt by climbing everything in sight.

Finally, everyone gathered downstairs and grabbed their ceremonial robes. The dining room table, usually the hub of meals and homeschool activities, was now covered with an intricate black and red tablecloth. Chuck looked it over to make sure nothing was forgotten. The cast-iron candle holder was in place, surrounded by the statues, chalice, dagger and other ritual items. The only thing missing was the long butane lighter, which he retrieved from the kitchen.

Once Dad had given the invocation, Chuck lit the first candle. “I’m lighting this one for greed. Let me tell you, Dad and I took those developers for everything we could get when we sold off that land to them. After all, those guys are in it for the money, and if we didn’t have a little greed of our own they’d walk all over us.”

One of Chuck’s twin teenage sisters lit the next candle. “This one’s for envy. Last year both of us totally envied our cousin who got to take belly dancing lessons. But this year we took classes too, and now we’re performing.”

“Yeah, and now that we learned how to make our own harem pants, she envies us," added her sister. "She even wants to learn how to sew.”

They handed the lighter off to the newest adoptee, and he lit the next candle after a few false tries. He pulled a crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket and read his part. “This week I have been studying my heritage and I have found out that anger is a big part of black history. One of the people I studied about is Malcolm X. Malcolm was an angry man because of the way he was treated and the way he saw other black people treated. He always tried to tell everybody how to take their anger and use its power to make the world better and fight for our rights. I hope that when we see something that’s wrong we all remember anger.”

As he nervously folded the paper up, a sister added, “When we were at the potluck tonight I saw a car in the parking lot with a bumper sticker that went ‘If you’re not mad, you’re not paying attention’.” Chuck laughed along with everyone else at this, and passed the lighter on to a cluster of energetic little ones.

“We’re gonna light a candle for gluttony,” said one. “’Cause we been eating everything at the potluck and we’re still hungry and Mom says we gotta grow and not just burn all our energy up running around. So for me, I’m just glad I got a good appetite!”

The autistic boy lit the next candle, giving his short memorized speech in a precise monotone. “The next candle is for sloth.”

Dad reached under the table and pulled out a package wrapped in gold foil and tied with silver ribbon. “We all know how hard your mom works. She keeps the house running while Chuck and I concentrate on the family business. She pays the bills and makes sure you all get an education. So without further ado, I hereby declare tomorrow to be official Mom Sloth Day. You kids’ll have to figure out how to do your own cooking and cleaning for the day, and I can’t wait to see what happens. Should be real interesting. Anyway, Darling, here’s something to help you be more slothful.”

Mom took the present from him and unwrapped it. “Oh my fucking god,” she exclaimed. “Where did you find this? Absinthe, Marilyn Manson’s own label! Oooh, and his new CD too. Awesome, you guys! Now don’t anybody disturb me tomorrow morning; I’m sleeping till ten. Thanks so much!”

Padmini gently pried the lighter from her little brother’s grasp. “I guess you can all guess what I have to say about pride.” Padmini paused and looked around at her family. “And of course being accepted to the program at Oxford is a big deal for me. I’m proud of the accomplishments that got me there, and I’m proud of you guys for helping me. I never could have gotten my asteroid data published if it weren’t for Dad and Chuck helping me build the observatory out back, and Mom driving me to all those astronomy club meetings. I’d never have finished the Special Olympics triathlon without the twins coaching me. And I’d never have organized my education and got my AP courses together without Mom’s help. Hell, if you guys hadn’t adopted me I might have died in the orphanage in India. So I'm really proud of you all, but I’ve really worked hard to get where I am, and I’m glad to be part of a family where it’s okay to be proud myself, too.”

Padmini wasn’t the type to cry, but Chuck felt a lump in his throat as he hoisted his youngest sister high enough to reach the last candle.

“There you go, Squirt,” he said.

Once she’d gotten over the concentration it took to connect flame to wick, the little girl fairly burst out with her speech. “An’ the last candle is for lust, ‘cause if Mommy and Daddy didn’t have lotsa lust there wouldn’t be any me!”

On that joyous note the ritual ended.

Chuck removed his robe, revealing jeans and t-shirt. “Is it okay if I take the van? I told Greg I’d stay over at his place tonight.” He hung the robe on the hook next to Dad’s.

“No, I’ll need it to drive to a job early tomorrow. You’ll have to take your bike.”

“That’s okay.” He headed for the door, anxious to get to his friend’s house.

Mom called after him, “You’ve got your rubbers with you, don’t you, Honey?”

Chuck rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mom.”

(1148 words)