Sentimentals

Chapter 1

The white washed stone walls were terribly depressing, and the smell of old musky rooms didn’t help much either. I stayed, my ass firmly planted in the metal fold-out chair. I just needed to be back here for a while, away from the fifty-something members of my family in the large room down the hall. It's always shocked me how funerals can turn into social gatherings and feasts but, I suppose it’s better than dark silence being sliced through by the wailing of despair. I somehow manage to feel nothing, and I keep asking myself, why? There's a slight feeling like something is missing, but beyond that, nothing. Am I a terrible child, for not feeling sad, for not crying over my own father? I don't know what is wrong with me. It’s not like I didn't love him; I did--we just never really connected I guess, and it wasn’t really a shock… he had been sick for a while.

I hear some footsteps coming toward the kitchen-like room I was hiding in. I look up, not caring if they see me being antisocial. I had a good excuse. My mother came through the small doorway accompanied by one of my aunts. She gives me a small sympathetic smile; it was forced. I give a small smile in return, but we don’t say anything. She and my aunt go into the adjoining room, probably getting a drink. I finally stand, my sanctuary being invaded, and resort to peeping in the 'show room' to see what other members of my family had arrived. I walk toward the rows of pews trying to not glance over to the open casket--it was just too weird.

I slid into the second row, a few inches away from Shannon, who seemed to be getting along with my family better than I was. Shannon and I had been friends for years now, and when I had told her about my dad passing away, she didn’t hesitate to be there for me at the funeral. She was a good friend, I never really felt like I deserved a friend as faithful as her.

" You OK?" Her smile disappeared for a second to focus on me, studying my face for something, anything.

" Yeah, " I respond quickly, not wanting her to worry. There really wasn’t anything to worry about; I’m cold. “I’m fine." I offer another one of my forced smiles, and turn my attention to the pretty arrangement of flowers and trinkets left for me and my mother.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Shannon fiddle with something on her dress and look away again to continue talking to one of my cousins; it’s so weird how everyone in my family just loves her. My leg started bouncing, I couldn't help it. I can’t stay still for long, and I find myself jumping back up again, Shannon eyeing me slightly as I stride back out the door. She'll probably follow me this time. I linger in the hall, studying some of the classical paintings hanging on their dull white walls—hey, at least they are trying to spice the place up. The people and things in the paintings didn’t look all that happy either, so it’s only defeating the purpose, I think.

Soft, slightly hesitant footsteps can be heard to my left; and I know I was correct in my assumption. Shannon stood beside me observing what I had been occupying myself with.

“What are you up to?" She questioned, turning to me… that look of concern in her eyes again. I took a chance and looked straight at her, feeling myself wanting to squirm from her intense gaze. There was something else there, something more than just concern… I didn’t know if I liked it. I shrug and spin around, tilting my body to one side to take a peek inside a dark unoccupied show room. Strangely enough… it looked inviting.

It was still about thirty minutes until the service began, and I was just about to curl up cozily in a corner of that dark show room when the person I had been waiting for all day finally trudged carelessly through the door at the end of the hall. I stopped, glaring purposefully to let them know I wasn’t pleased with their lateness, but, knowing that more than likely it wasn’t his fault. The glare was, mostly, just to get his attention. Long, untamed waves of pale hair tossed about as my half-brother shook himself free from the feeling of being confined in the car for two hours. I couldn’t help but crack a half-amused smile, at the utterly uncaused look on his face. Shannon's smile returned as she went up to him trying to shake his hand, but he either wasn’t getting it, or he didn’t want to.

“Hi Kaleb, long time no see!" She kept smiling even though Kaleb was staring at her hand like it was a very large roach. I held back the snicker threatening to erupt. I strode up behind Shannon as she gave me an obvious "ooooook" look. I smirked and looked over her head at Kaleb. The boy still had a blank and slightly confused look on his face.

“HEY! Earth to Kaleb!" I laughed waving my hand in front of his grey-blue eyes, the same as mine. He blinked, then unexpectedly grabbed my hand, clutching onto it like it was his only link into the real world. I raised an eyebrow at him; he can really be even weirder than me sometimes. I glance at Shannon for help but she can only shrug.

"Come on." I demand, pulling Kaleb with me into the kitchen room and plopping him down gracelessly into the fold-out chair. I left him there to get a can of Sierra Mist out of the ‘fridge, hoping it will wake him up while Shannon once again attempted conversation with my brain-numbed half-brother.

"Here." I sat the green perspirating can on the fold-out table in front of him. Of course, he just stared at it. I rolled my eyes and cracked the top for him, shoving it into his hand. I swear sometimes he's just so helpless!

He actually takes a couple of sips. I can’t understand why he acts like this sometimes. He doesn’t do drugs but he can sure fool people into thinking he does! He seems to be waking up more now; he must have been napping in the car.

“Better? Are you going to act like a normal sober person now?" He waves a long fingered hand at me carelessly. I sigh and coax him to his feet. He stands, steadying himself, then seems to finally focus.

"Oh, hi Shannon. Haven’t seen you in awhile." He finally realized, waving Sparrowishly at my friend. Shannon's mouth dropped open before she struggled to keep down the hysterical laughter at her disbelief. I feel like smacking my forehead--or smacking the back of his head. As that thought crossed my mind, I did a double take, finally taking notice to the change in Kaleb's height.

“Hold on, why do I feel short suddenly?" I poked him purposefully hard in his shoulder. He turned giving me an offending look. My hand skimmed our heads finding that it did a slight deep down from his head to mine. I scowled, not liking this; he was two years younger than me! He was not supposed to get taller than me! Kaleb, noticing my distress, grinned cheekily. Which only made me scowl harder. He ruffled my hair and I wanted to fume!

“Oh, come on Jamie, I think its cute!" He grinned mischievously, and I rolled my eyes again. Just as I was about to smack him upside the head again, the smile on Kaleb's face dropped slightly, and his voice dropped to a more serious tone.

“How are you?" He asked, a soft concern apparent in his deepening voice. I knew what he meant by that.

“I’m doing fine, really. You don’t need to worry about me, seriously." I glanced over at Shannon to make my point to her also, and then back to his questioning face. He nodded, and I relaxed. I knew he wouldn't ask again. A few more minutes and Kaleb's dad poked his head in the door, a middle aged, well groomed and dressed man.

“I think they are about to start in here, just came to tell you, it’s about three minutes ‘till." He tapped his watch in indication. We nodded and followed him back into the show room.