As the wind blow on winter sky, the dead tree sided by our house creaked, falling of snow down to the cold damped motherly soiled. I Sat by the window, seeing all the blacks moving out from the front porch, making the white contrast snow filled with small tiny dots moving slowly toward the icy road. There she was, my sister, Katherine, accompany all the folks out of our house. Hugging and tears drained out from her eyes, grief of lost. Yet, she is still strong and iron her heart to accept everything that had happened to our blood, which is left only me and her self. No more yelling and deep-husky voice of old man echoing our ear drums, no more softly laugh of sweet voice of our beloved mother. And yes, I am sad. Clamping my lips tight as I forced to hold my tears and not to make myself sober again.
The house turn silence again. Seeing everyone has gone back their own, finally I am able to grab myself to stand and go down to see her again. Walking slowly down the stairs as I saw all those photos of them, really it does make you don’t want to accept the deepest truth; they are not here anymore. As she close the front door, sweeping the last tears using her sleeve; the black blouse that mom bought for her and I knew that she wouldn’t believe what unfortunate has happened to us. Yes, people come and go, anytime and anywhere, death is surely will invite you. I ran to her, hugged her as tight as I can, smudging my face on her blouse hoping she will eventually comfort me like mom used to comfort me with her warm gentle motherly love. It is not the same as always but I’m happy that I still have her with me. She down on her knee, making sure that her shoulder supported my head and gently rub my back and she vaguely whispered to my ear.
“ We’re going to be okay. No matter what happen, I wont let anything separate both of us. I promised mom and dad that until my last drop of blood I will take care of you and not to forget to fill your never endless hunger, Bum Bum. We’ll get thorough this okay?, I promise.”
Putting her hand on my head and give the good boy head scrub as she stand on her feet again and walk herself to the kitchen and spontaneously speaks I’m Thirsty! Loss too much water with all the tears! And it make me hungry too!. And she’s saying me that has the never endless hunger, I think see need to look in the mirror again.
“Okay Bum Bum, what do you want to eat for dinner ?.” She yelled.
She got mom great gene in cooking. Lucky she got and know how to cook as good as mom. I think cooking is the best medicine for her to overcome this fateful event. Well, it is obviously seen when she try to accept her end with her long term relationship with her boyfriend. By mean with long term, it is way too long to describe her years of relationship. Yes, we eventually will overcome this situation slowly.
Its already past ten. Envelop with the cold winter night, my mind still lingers. The scent of the last laundry mom did, making me still feel the presences of her in my room. I cant close my eye. All those images of her, smiles, laughs and clumsiness as motherly would be making me harder to fall asleep. Put my hand up high, expanding my palm hoping that she would grab my hand and caress me while pulling the soapy fragrance blanket and kiss my forehead to end my fantasy for the night. Oh I wish that she was here. All that I can is just turn my body to the side facing the side table and there I saw my sister peeking at my door and I know greatly that she also missing the mom’s routine.
“Good night Bum Bum. I going to turn off the lights now.” She Said.
Smell of baked oven bacon aromatically aroused the whole space in the house. She woke up aggressively. With that sleepy face and pajamas she run toward to the stair taking up her steps down to the kitchen and there she saw her little brother making breakfast for both.
“ Hey! What did I say about kid in the kitchen ?. I don’t know little Bum Bum know how to make breakfast.” She questioning me.
“Hmmm, sis, you better wash your face and brush your teeth first. And yes, mom taught me how to cook breakfast as for my basic survivor skill just incase you are not around.” Explained me.
Proudly me, with face of sunshine galore the morning with my cooking skill.
“what ?!.”Stressed her.
“ With this burnt bacon and overly cook hard scramble eggs, surely I’m getting myself killed with these ‘biological weapon’ of yours.” She nagged.
“Now go get me some milk in the fridge and turn on the coffee machine. You are now my slave for the whole day. After you done with the dishes, do the laundry and clean my room”. Commanded her.
Saturday is my slave day for her. Already marked on her calendar every week of the month and thorough out the year. I already get used to her sarcasms and GI Joe. That is what I like about her. Non of it came out from our parent gene. I’m guessing there is some error during her gene’s translation somehow. As soon as she swallowed the last pieces of bacon on the blue plate using woody brown fork, I took my step to the living room and start my first slavery chores and start cleaning the house. With her attitude of leaving her shoes and I mean lots of shoes including her coats on the floor really make the front door like her drop out laundry basket. She like to sleep in the living room nowadays. She messed the coffee table with her workloads, cup filled with half full of coffee everywhere. She’s working her spine all out. Hope that I wouldn’t be such a burden to her.
“Ooo, my master!. I won’t have the brave to let my dirty finger to lay a print on master’s precious scrolls. His slave would not want to get his finger chopped off.” I said to her.
Late response from her. As I can imaging now that she is taking caffeine like drinking pure mineral water.
“You can just leave there owh my dear beloved midget slave.” Her replied.
The living room is mostly look like a living room now, at least for a moment. Photo of mom and dad together on the side table really make it feel nostalgic. Off to the second floor now. Leaving all collectables garbage by the stair and braving myself to let myself into the lion’s den. How am I surprise that her room is actually neat!. I just cant believe what I see. Only basket full of laundry and untidy make up desk where she used to get her hair combed by mom. This only make my work easier for this week. By the window there is one small corner table shines by the early morning sunrise. On top of that old-looked black table is few of packages or might I say it is more look like gifts from somebody. My curiosity is killing me. A cat would sacrifice it all life to fulfill curious. Just as I close enough to read the hand written text on the card, I heard footstep coming close in. It was unlucky day for the cat to die. She was already at the door looking at me with her large cup of coffee on her hand, sipping the hot coffee slowly. She put the cup away from her mouth and giving the serious look to me. Then we suddenly giggled. She knew that I knows that see can’t put the serious mask to me. Seriousness is totally not her. Suddenly her mood switched. Putting away the coffee that she adore away from her and picking up her dirty clothes on the bed, put it into the laundry basket that I was holding. There she said something sounded kind of sad and serious. Vividly toned.
“Uhm, Ryan. When you done with the laundry, can we have a talk ?. I want to tell you something. Explained her.
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To be continue;
