Carlos

I walked to the door of our new house and looked behind me, hand resting on the unfamiliar doorknob. It wasn’t a sight I was used to seeing, or even anything I was all that comfortable looking at, a scene that anybody who moves will know. The floors were bare and empty, as the carpets were still rolled up in another room waiting to be placed. The few cabinets and shelves around the various rooms were in their proper places, but had yet to be filled. Boxes were stacked here and there, pots and pans bulging from one, my stuffed animals spilling from another. Only the kitchen, with its strange faucet with the handles and knobs in a different place than the faucet I knew, and the dishwasher which my parents had yet to figure out how to run, had its dishes and utensils stored in its proper place. My mother had been working in there all morning.

I looked back at the doorknob with its broad silver handle sticking out in the wrong place, the little knob in the center that you turn to lock the door. I punched at it disdainfully before turning it and opening the door. The low, soothing call of the white-winged dove greeted me and I felt better, but I still wanted to curse my father for getting the new job which relocated my family and set all my rules, definitions, and calculations askew. And my birds. 

These Southeast Texas birds, the pudgy doves, flitting jays, and regular hawk migrations didn’t stand to compare at all with the birds I knew where I came from, where the ospreys soared high above the ocean, the gulls laughed wildly and the crows and grackles bickered in the trees. No, I thought, as I watched a mockingbird skip blithely along the sidewalk in front of me, they didn’t compare at all. And it was hot! I had chosen a shady place to sit but even then I felt the heat pressing on me. 

“Young man,” called a strong female voice. I turned to see somebody coming across the street. It was a lady with curly blond hair in jeans and a green t-shirt. She was wearing sneakers and was walking towards me. Next to her was a girl shorter than me, a miniature version of the lady, but she had on a brown t-shirt instead of a green one, and her jeans had small flowers on the pockets. I got up, waved tentatively, and escaped through the door. 

“Mom!” I called. 

“Yes?”

“There’s people in the front yard. They came from across the street.”

“Go say hello! I’ll be there in a minute.” A clattering of pots and pans hit the floor and I winced. “Lemme pick this up first…” my mother said. 

I sighed and inched my way back out the door, where the two people were still standing in the yard. 

“Hello. My name is Ms. Bradford. This is my daughter, Sophie, and we live across the street,” said the lady in her strong voice. She held out her hand. I placed mine limply in hers, and she grabbed my fingers and shook them up and down. I looked dumbly down at my hand, which was the color of walnuts and tanned from the sun, against her pale one with rings and bracelets. “Say, ‘Nice to meet you, Ms. Bradford,'” she commanded. 

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Bradford,” I repeated. With a gush of relief I heard the door open again and my mother came across the grass. 

“I’m sorry about the wait,” my mother said, her hand out to the lady. Ms. Bradford, I mean. “I dropped a bunch of pots and pans–“

“I know how it is, I’ve moved myself. So hectic sometimes. I’m Susie Bradford, and this is Sophie.”

Susie shook my mother’s hand. “I’m Maria Rodriguez. This is my son Carlos.”

The lady nodded at us and said that it was nice to meet us. “Where are you from?”

“California,” said my mother. 

“My goodness!”

My mother laughed. “It’s been quite a trip. Can you tell me where the nearest grocery store is?”

“Yes, you down here and turn…” Pretty soon my mom and Sophia’s mom were moving away from me, and I was left with Sophia. 

I didn’t really know what to do with her so I said the first thing that came to mind. “Your mother’s scary.”

She laughed, and the way she did it made her hair toss back and bounce a little bit, while her teeth glinted and her eyes, which were sparkling brown, danced. I wish my straight brown hair bounced just a little bit. 

“She’s just proper. After a while it doesn’t bother you anymore. It happened that way with me, after thirteen years of her trying to push me into society.”

“You’re thirteen years old?”

“Yeah. How old did you think I was?” She suddenly held out her hands. “Wait a minute, don’t tell me, actually. I don’t want to know.”

So I didn’t tell her that I actually thought she was eleven, and we looked at the ground for a few seconds. I wiped my forehead on the back of my hand. 

“Oh, and you don’t really notice the heat, either, after a while. I bet everybody living in this area is immune to temperature changes. You just keep your heaviest coat and your shorts and t-shirts all in the same place and you do okay.”

I nodded. “Cool.”

“Yeah.” She nodded her head too, and looked up at the sky. 

To be continued!