As I stand in my room, I take in my wall-art. My parents never could keep me from writing on the walls; it's how I visualize my stories before I write them. Therefore, as my eighth birthday present, my parents had special wallpaper plastered over the walls in my suite so that I could draw as much as I want. Mostly, I like to do comic strips.
I smile at the drawing by the door, my eighth birthday cake: big, pink with purple unicorns all the way around with a cartoon me blowing out eight candles. I search out a white spot near my bed and draw a picture of luggage blurred by my tears. I squiggle 2018 next to it and a spiky dialogue box representing the yelling. Finally, I draw the little statue of an Ethiopian queen that stood next to me in the office.
"That's lovely."
I turn as my sister places a hand on my shoulder. "Thanks, Abhi."
"I will make sure to collect everything for you." Julie finds her way into my room.
"Julie, we are both really sorry about pulling you into this. Sorry, our father thinks it's a crime to be teenagers."90Please respect copyright.PENANAFCihU4BRIM
"Yeah, sorry to YOU," Nandita echoes, rolling her eyes.90Please respect copyright.PENANANXuXMIE9YG
"It doesn't matter. This is CRAZY. I'm going to miss you guys so much. Just pack everything that you can, and Robert and I will gather up everything else and deliver it to you."90Please respect copyright.PENANAIGCSs9VvWC
She helps us pack two bags each before we join Emaye downstairs. Suddenly, the reality of leaving hits me hard. We are homeless and fatherless---man, that hits hard.90Please respect copyright.PENANAmozQqBIHjE
"Where's Bapi?"
"In the office, Abhi. He will call you later, I'm sure. Let's go."
"Emaye, is this---"
"It is not your fault, Abhi."
"I'm sorry for what I said."90Please respect copyright.PENANAtG0DqyoXtD
Emaye waves a nonchalant hand, rolling her suit case in front of us. "Let's go."
We head to the nearest bus station and find our seats among the other late-night travelers. I stare at the floor as the city lights rush by. I don't realize when I fall asleep.
"Abhi, Mou, wake up. We're here."
"Where are we?" I grab my suitcase and hall it down the bus steps. We exit up the street from a neighborhood. My shoulder is sore from the weight of my backpack.
"When I first came to America, I lived with a host family. My foster brother became a true younger brother to me, and we still speak occasionally. I texted him---"
"How come we have never met him?" Nandita yawns, and Emaye pushes stray strands of her behind her ears.
"He never liked your father. He never thought he was good for me."
We do not ask anymore questions. I realize we have a lot to learn about our parents, but right now, all I want is to sleep and forget. I want to cry, to wake up from this nightmare, but I have no strength to shed tears or to believe this is only a dream. This is real, and there is no need in crying about it.
We stroll into the driveway of a brick two-story house. The houses down the street look almost the same, just different variants of the overall design. I have never really been in a neighborhood before. My neighborhood is the hundreds of rooms that exist in our giant hotel. We weren't allowed to explore until we were well into our teens, and even then, hotel staff watched over us with guards posted here and there.
Emaye knocks on the door, and not long after, a young man with caramel brown skin and a low shave answers the door.
"Marty," Emaye greets, hugging him.
"Heyy, Konnie, are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
His wife hugs Emaye behind him. "Hey, Brenda. These are my daughters, Madhuri and Nandita Gupta."
"Nice to finally meet you. I bet you didn't know that we are your Godparents. We've known your mother since we were fourteen."90Please respect copyright.PENANA6Mt8Jppndk
"Wow, we're like Cinderella tonight, discovering Godparents come to save us."90Please respect copyright.PENANA9SNaLztl9p
Nandita giggles. "We even have the wicked stepmother to match."90Please respect copyright.PENANA3VogeA40gZ
"Girls!" Emaye rolls her eyes and mutters in amharic, something like "what am I going to do with these babies from my womb?" She breathes and looks to the little boy sitting shyly in a recliner. "This must be Bobby. He looks just like you, Marty."90Please respect copyright.PENANAU5H3dYHZ5R
Ms. Brenda crosses her arms over her chest. "And I don't know why he is up. All ten year olds are supposed to be in bed at eight. Go!"
"I wanted to meet our guests," he whines, dragging his feet to the steps.
"Hi," I reply, and Nandita smiles and waves.
"They are very tired," Emaye murmurs. "Can they go on to bed?"
"Bobby, show our guests to their rooms, please."
Bobby brightens, racing back down the stairs and around the corner. "This way!"
A little, curly furred dog barks at him from the top of the stairs.
"A dog!" Nandita exclaims.
"Sorry, he is supposed to be in my room. Scrappy, go back to bed!" The little dog nips at his heels as Bobby guides us to a room at the very end of the hall. "This is the guest room, and that is the bathroom. Let me know if you need me. My room is upstairs." He points upstairs and then rushes off with the dog still nipping at his heels.
"Are all ten year olds in bed yet?!"
"Yep!" I hear him storming up the stairs above us.
"He makes me feel old."
"Abhi, we are just tired. We have that kind of energy on a normal basis, eh?"
She smiles wearily.
Once we are changed into our pajamas, I sit with my stuffed Bengal tiger in my lap. I don't care about the trip anymore. Nandita sits beside me with her bunny in her lap.
"Did you brush your teeth?"
"You too, Mou."
I follow her to the bathroom.
"Konnie, I told you he wasn't the one for you. Mom and Dad told you that. You wanted to be with him because he had money and offered to pay for everything. You should have gone back to Ethiopia. Now, your family won't even talk to you."
I go to the banister and peer through the wooden poles to the kitchen where Marty sits in front of Emaye at the table. Emaye has her hands over her face. She is crying. I jump as I feel my sister's breathe on my neck. We both crouch quietly to take in the scene.
"Martin, that's not the way to approach this situation." Ms. Brenda puts steaming hot tea in front of Emaye.
"Someone needs to be honest with her, or she will go right back to him. He is no good, Konnie. He likes to keep you subservient by waving money in your face." Mr. Martin waves imaginary money. "It's just like Mom and Dad warned you. He's not going to be faithful to you. He has a family. He never cared anything about you; he wanted to have his cake and eat it too!"
"Martin!" his wife scolds. "Really?"
"I'm sorry. I'm just so mad. She has nothing now! After all the hard work you put into school and all the hard work you put into building that hotel with him. He can just snatch it away because you didn't want to put any claim on it."
Emaye finally slams her hand on the table, snapping at him in amharic. "Martin, enough!" Her accent is strong and sharp, silencing him instantly. "My daughters came first! My DAUGHTERS! You know that Workneh is the ONLY reason that I could stay here in America! Without them, I would not be able to stay here. If Workneh took my daughters, I would be sent back home, and then I would have nothing. They would have nothing! My girls are my reason for staying here." She cups her hands over her mouth. "I didn't love him... but I was eighteen, so I let myself fall for him because he could help me stay here in America. I got pregnant hoping to keep him around. It worked for a little while, but in the end, he had a duty to his family. He was betrothed. At that point, I would have taken them back to Ethiopia, but he wasn't going to have his children taken away from him." She sniffles. "My duty has ALWAYS been to my daughters, since I first held Madhuri in my arms. They are still my duty, so don't you DARE question me! If I could go back, I wouldn't change a thing because Madhuri and Nandita mean everything to me."
Nandita sniffles behind me, and I press her back to the guest room. We turn out the light, and after a while, sleep takes over the grief and confusion. I am awakened by Emaye as she slips into bed, taking a moment to study us.
"I'm so sorry."
"Emaye, please don't be sorry," I whisper. "You have always done the best you can, and that is everything to us. We love you."
She takes my hand in the dark and brushes her fingers through Nandita's curls. "I love you both too. All we have is each other."
"And that's enough."
"You're right, Abhi. It's always been enough."
She settles the covers around us, humming, "Swing looow, sweet charioot, coming for to carry me hooommmeee."
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