Chapter 4. The Morgan’s

I used to think that my house was located at the end of the street. I used to. In reality, we were third to the last. On our left was another house. It was abandoned before I was born. The owners reportedly tried to sell it when they moved out, but since living in Bear Creek wasn’t as tempting as the city, the small property sat unoccupied for years.

If I were to go to my bedroom window and peek out, I’d be given a good view of the property’s unkempt yard. The overgrowth of grass, flat tire, garden gnomes, and other junk was a familiar sight. Other people would call it spooky. I called it, backdrop.

After that house was the mansion. Technically it was the last on the street. Two-story tall, a circular driveway in front, Roman styled architecture. It looked like it belonged in another time and place. Certainly not in Bear Creek.

But if anyone were to ask me, aside from my house and the Ruins, the mansion has quickly become one of my favorite spots. After all, Genesis lived in it. Her bedroom also faced mine. All she had to do to see me was part the curtains, step through the door, walk to her balcony, and wave to me, which was exactly what she was doing now.

I uncapped the black marker and poised the tip on the whiteboard. ‘Good Morning,’ I wrote.

The letters were fainter than yesterday. Maybe I should run to the store later and buy another marker. For now, I made do with what I had, and pressed the whiteboard to my window.

Genesis peeped through her binoculars. The grin on her face after reading the message made me smile too. I’d do everything to see that every day. Anything.

She placed her binoculars on the cement handrail and leaned down. When she straightened back up, she was holding a whiteboard like mine.

It would take her seconds to come up with a reply. I used that time to step back and put the telescope in front of me. It was a gift from dad a few years back. It used to sit in my closet until months ago, when Genesis suggested for us to communicate this way. Since then, we’ve been drafting long messages to each other, even in the early hours of the day. Like now, for example.

She wrapped up her reply and held the board forward. I checked it through the telescope. ‘Your room or mine?’ she asked.

My fingers were shaking as I responded. ‘As if we can go there.’

‘You’ve been here several times,’ she said.

‘Not as much as I want to.’

I checked her reaction. Even without the telescope, the pout on her lips was still visible from this distance. So was the wrinkle on her forehead and the sadness on her face. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.

‘Sorry,’ I added on the whiteboard. ‘I know your dad is strict. He doesn’t like visitors.’

She lowered the binoculars and shook her head. Afterwards, she answered. ‘You’re not a visitor at all. You’re special. I’ll talk to dad about it.’

‘Thanks,’ I wrote. ‘You’re special too.’ I erased the message with my hand and drafted another. ‘I’ll open the front door for you. See you in a bit.’

Three o’clock in the morning was the best time to go down the stairs. I wouldn’t risk running into dad no matter what noise I made. He’d be too deep in Lalaland.

“Hi,” Genesis whispered when I swung the door open. If it weren’t for the flashlight on her hand and the automatic goosebumps I got from hearing her voice, I’d have a hard time telling who she was. It was too dark on the street.

“Hi,” I whispered back.

It didn’t need to be said that she should follow me. We’ve been doing it all the time. We crept up the stairs after locking the door. We went to the hallway, through my door, then my room. Under the light of my lamp, I could see the relief on her face. I was relieved too. Having her here made everything complete.

Genesis covered her mouth and yawned.

“Still sleepy?” I said.

Her eyes were still squinted as she walked to my bed. She kicked her sneakers off and crawled to the mattress. By the time I followed her there, she’d already claimed most of the space. I shooed her away so I could scoot beside her. It was toasty underneath the blanket.

“Did your sister keep you awake again?” I asked.

Genesis snuggled on my chest and wrapped her leg on me. “Let’s not talk about her,” she murmured.

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay,” she said.

It didn’t take long before both of us were asleep again.

At exactly eight o’clock, my alarm clock buzzed to life. Genesis’ eyes were open when I glanced to her. From the looks of it, she’d been awake for a while.

“Good morning,” I greeted.

She smirked at me. “You already said that today. Try another one.”

“How about, wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey?”

She snorted. “Good try.”

I frowned as she removed the covers and started to leave the bed. It was colder without her by my side.

“What happened to Gabe last night?” I said. Gabe or Gaby, was Gene’s sister. Gabrielle was her real name. I wish I could say good things about her, but I couldn’t come up with any. An accurate description was she had the name of an angel and the attitude of Satan. Enough said.

Genesis’ finished tying her shoelaces. She turned to me and shrugged. “Same old.”

“Boyfriend issues?”

She rolled her eyes. “What do you think?”

I didn’t press her about it as I readied myself too. Last time I did, she told me how her sister snuck a boy over their mansion and made noises all night. What those noises were, I didn’t want to know.

“Come on,” I said when I was done. Both of us had combed our hair and looked decent enough to prowl Bear Creek.

“How about Mr. Jones?” she asked.

“At work, as usual. It’s safe.”

Knowing that dad was next door tending to his shop, Gene and I were relaxed as we came down the stairs. We were even laughing at something.

The laughter died on our lips when dad emerged from the kitchen with a knife. He wasn’t smiling. “Sit down,” he ordered, eyes on me. He turned to Genesis. “You too.”

The silence dragged on long after we were seated. Dad had returned to the counter to chop an ingredient. The stove was already open. On top of it was a pan, a strange smell coming from whatever was cooking.

“I thought you’re at work,” I started. “Are you sick?” Half of the reason I was asking was because of concern. Half was to save my own butt. There was a sixty percent probability that I’d be grounded today if I didn’t get on his good side.

He sniffed as he diced the onion. “I’m not sick,” he said.

“Then why are you still here?”

His eyes were red and watery when he looked at us. “I should be asking you the same question. I didn’t see you go through the front door, and I was awake since five.”

I was tempted to laugh. I really was. But with Genesis’ hand gripping my jeans, I couldn’t do anything but be serious about this.

“We’re not doing anything bad,” I finally mumbled. “Sorry.”

Dad let go of the knife and turned around to us. Maybe to torture me. Maybe to nag. Whatever it was, he sighed and shook his head. “I know you’re not doing anything bad,” he said. “But to other people, it looks different.”

“What do you mean, dad?”

He gave me a long, measuring stare before he ran a hand through his hair. “Kids shouldn’t be sneaking off in the middle of the night.”

“It was morning,” I defended.

“Destiny.”

“I’m quiet. I’m quiet.” I zipped my lips.

He sighed again before turning to Genesis. “You’re always welcome in our home, you know that. But doing what you’re doing, all of us are going to be in trouble with Lyndon.”

I crossed my arms. “What Lyndon doesn’t know won’t kill him,” I said.

Dad’s nostril flared. “Language.”

“What Mr. Morgan doesn’t know won’t kill him,” I corrected. “Besides, Gene lives a house away from us. It’s not like she’ll get kidnapped if she goes here at that hour. It’s summer too.”

“We still have to respect their rules,” he said. “No sneaking off in the morning from now on. No covert operations at ungodly hours. Do you understand me?”

I pursed my lips. “Loud and clear.”

He looked remarkably happy when he turned back to his chopping board. “If you’re going to do it again, make sure I wouldn’t catch you.” He’d said it in such a low voice that I barely caught the words.

The dirt path to the Ruins was muddy. It must have rained when we were asleep. Genesis and I didn’t bother avoiding the muck because everything was covered in it, even the grass.

She was concentrating on not slipping when I turned to her. “You’re a real pro, you know that?”

“How?” she asked.

My shoes squished on the grass. “You ate dad’s food. Nobody in their right minds would do it, even Spence.”

“Spencer is not right on the head to begin with,” she joked. “And what’s wrong with your dad’s cooking? It’s delicious.”

I just shook my head at her. She’d been the only one to say that, ever.

There wasn’t a clean spot on our shoes when we got to the Ruins. I scraped my soles on a rock to get rid of the dirt. Meanwhile, Genesis went to the stone steps to check if the bag we’ve left was intact.

After I was done, I went to her side to take a peek. She’d found the bag and was unzipping it. “Mommy’s here,” I said when I saw Girl inside. Boy was right next to her.

“Daddy’s here,” Gene said. She patted the puppet’s heads, then gave me a look. “Good thing we wrapped the bag with plastic the night before. You’d cry if they get wet.”

“Maybe.” I took the bag from her and slung it over my back. She zipped it from behind. “Let’s go to the twin’s,” I said. “You know how they get when we don’t come early.”

I was expecting them to get a little irritated since it was past nine when we got there, but Spencer was fuming mad. He didn’t even look at us as we entered their house, past the messy living room, past the good-smelling kitchen, and into the backyard. Their parents were in the junkshop. We couldn’t stay there.

“I can’t believe this,” he mumbled.

I looked at Ester as her brother began to pace the yard, hands in his pockets. “What’s his problem?”

Ester shrugged and headed to the swing. Only one seat was left. The other fell off a year ago, and their parents were too busy to fix it. She sat on it carefully but didn’t push forward. “Don’t mind him. He’s just upset.”

“About what?” Gene asked.

Spencer stopped pacing and threw his hands to the sky. “About life. About everything.”

“I got my period,” Ester explained.

I chuckled. That’s what he was worried about? Boys were weird. “Congratulations,” I said. “Should we throw a party?”

Spencer glared at me. “Don’t you dare do that, Des. You know I’ve been dreading this.”

Genesis walked to my line of sight. She had a twinkle on her eyes that only meant trouble. “We’ll have balloons,” she said.

“And cakes,” I added.

“Banners. Don’t forget the banners.”

Spencer covered his ears. “Why are girls so gross? Why do you need to pee blood? Why does my twin have to be born with lady parts?”

“Shut up, Spence. No uterus, no opinion.” I went to the other side of the swing. The part that was missing a seat. “Not that I’m changing topics, but what happened to the motorcycle? I thought we’ll work on it all summer?”

Ester sighed. She’d been in-charge of the research aspect. She’d volunteered for it. “The materials we have are not enough,” she said. “If we want to continue this, we need to have a fund.”

“We can charge people for attending your menstrual party,” I suggested.

“Or you can just kill me on the spot,” Spencer chimed in. He looped an imaginary rope around his head and pulled.

I ignored him to look at Gene. She was staring at the grass, thinking hard. “Anything in mind?” I said.

She raised her eyes to me. I liked how the blue looked like the sky, while her other eye, the amber, looked like the sun. It felt like I was floating in space. “I can pitch in with the budget,” she said.

Spencer stopped his dramatization. “No shit?” he said. He looked excited. Ester too. But I wasn’t as thrilled as any of them. It somehow felt off.

“Let’s come up with a different way to raise the funds,” I said.

“What? Why?” Spencer scowled. “We’ve planned about this all summer. I don’t want to back out now.”

“He’s right,” Genesis supported. “I have a big allowance anyway. Dad won’t ask how I spent it.”

I was outvoted three to one. I couldn’t do anything.

The rest of the day was spent doing whatever we wanted to do. One part was us reenacting the scene from the Mean Girls. Another was us sticking pictures on Ester’s bedroom wall. We also listened to Enrique Iglesias songs. And when we got tired of that, we went back to the yard to lay on the grass and stare at the sky.

“Are we on for tonight?” Spencer asked when we were about to go home.

Genesis and I glanced at each other. “Did you get everything?” I asked.

“Of course, squirts.” He smiled naughtily. “Open your windows at one o’clock.”

Ester ushered me and Gene towards the open door. She looked as anxious as I felt. “Hurry,” she said.

I glanced at the twins over my shoulder. “One o’clock, okay?”

Spencer gave me a thumbs up.

The reason why we were so nervous was because of a curfew. Genesis’ to be exact. Mr. Morgan wanted her home by five in the afternoon, summer or no summer break. It was his most recent household rule. He enjoyed adding one every year.

My sole made a slapping sound as it pounded on the pavement. There were only four minutes left, and Gene’s house was still a few meters away. We had to run.

I looked beside me when a car honked. Gabrielle was driving the convertible. “What are you in a hurry for?” she asked. The dark lipstick, the black eyeshadow, the goth makeup— all of it made her look older than her age.

“Curfew,” I panted. “Don’t you have it too?”

Gaby checked her teeth on the side mirror. “Nope,” she said.

“How about you drive your sister to the house so you can say that you’ve been out together?”

“What’s in it for me?”

I gave her a look of disbelief. “She’s your sister.”

Gabby sneered. “Not good enough.” She stepped on the gas. I thought she was kidding, but she didn’t look back as the convertible moved.

A father who was strict. A sister who didn’t care. A mother who was silent. A daughter who had to obey. That was the Morgan’s for you.