by Ron. B.
Malachi, Angus and their two parents are going to a family reunion
This is the first chapter in a seven chapter story. New chapters are to be added weekly. Stay tuned!
The narrator is an Irish child. It uses Irish slang and accent. It may have some "good" english mistakes in dialogues. It is just the way some characters talk. If I judge an expression/word is too Irish to be understood by a larger audience, I will put a glossary at the end of a chapter. If some expressions are not understood, and aren't explained, feel free to contact me.
I heard the floor creak. I crack open one eye, followed slowly by the other. The room was dark; I could barely see the outline of my brother’s silhouette. His chest rose and fell, accompanied by gentle snore. He was still sleeping. I turned around in my bed and checked the alarm clock. 6:30. People whispered below, and the noise of stuff being moved around could be heard. I knew what it was, we had been preparing for this for weeks. I knew what was going to happen next. I open and closed my eyes a few times to get rid of the heavy lid feeling. I lied on my back. My brother moved a bit, but he stayed in his dreams. He really doesn’t have a clue about what is about to happen.
Light filled the room as the door was ripped open. I just stood up to greet my mother. My brother opened his eyes and frowned, and he made a nearly inaudible moan to show his disapproval of the situation. I was standing there in my white t-shirt and boxers, and after my mother dragged my brother out of bed, who was still half sleeping, she urged me to get down stairs instead of “just staying here doing nothing.”
I walk down the stairs in a slow, monotonous pace. My father was on top of a grey hard plastic suitcase. He really seemed to have trouble. His face was red, and the suitcase was full, with some shirts even hanging off and some books scattered across the floor. He closed it, but his roar told me he didn’t pull his finger away quick enough. Suitcase 1, father 0.
“Don’t’cha just stand here, open this flipping thing up!”
Hello was my answer. It’s not that I didn’t want to help my father, but I was just awakened violently by mum, so I would appreciate at least a greeting.
“Mal, open that thing would ya, or I’ll get cross!”
Well, if I didn’t open it, how could he punish me? But it was too early for me to think too hard. I bent down next to the suitcase and pulled up the lock. My dad raised his finger and placed it in his mouth.
I sat down at the table. Even after my preparation before waking up, I was still snoozy. I stared at the cereal box for a minute. While doing this, my lid closed halfway, and my head stung a little. If it wasn’t for my brother to rush down the stairs half-naked, hurried by the loud voice of my mother shouting, “Hurry up Angus, we don’t have much time!,” I would have fallen asleep again.
I reached for the cereal and served myself a bowl. I added a bit of milk and dipped a large spoon into the mixture. I raised it all to my mouth. The cereal crushed against my molars and a drop or two of milk dripped from the corner of my lower lip. I just cleaned it up with the outer part of my left wrist. Angus came and sat directly in front of me. I was about to take some more cereal when Angus grabbed the box at the same time. We were both holding the box. He looked at me straight in the eyes. He bent his elbow and brought the box to his side. I didn’t let go, and I managed to get it off him. Right away, I felt his leg reaching for mine, but dad caught him in the act.
“Angus, we really don’t have time for them things, leave Mal alone.”
I smiled; he looked at me with anger. I knew I’d have to pay for that later.