Pity...

Just a change in username. Thought I would switch up accounts after three years.

Not sure about this or if I will even continue. Just wanted to throw it out here for now.
Enjoy.

I’m no one, nothing special… easily forgotten… a fixture in the background. That is how I have always felt. I suppose you could say I’m not even comfortable in my own skin. I am too short of limb and diminutive of stature to ever be considered sexy. I am too broad to be slender and too concave to be considered curvaceous. My hair is a thick non-descript brown. My eyebrows are bushy, my eyes wide-set and a drab gray that darkens as it nears the pupils. My nose is too long and ends in a slope Olympic skiers would salivate over. I am plain old homely and I can deal. ‘Sides, I don’t really have a choice outside of a massive overhaul and plastic surgery is pricey.

I have no distinguishing talents, unlike my older brother who is currently packing for a month long stay at the Governor’s school for the arts. Our parents are so proud of him—their little star, handsome, athletic, popular and too damned important to be related to me. Everybody says so.

Eli Kraal, the 1st Sergeant’s oldest daughter and leading lady in my brother’s ego-centric world, is foremost in the crusade to completely disassociate the two of us. Not that I’ve put up that much resistance. Eli is the typical golden wonder. Tall, slender, feminine—in short everything I’m not. She also happens to be the captain of the soccer team I play for on base. Our losing streak is probably another thing she attributes to my existence. I keep hoping my dad will get transferred somewhere more culturally adept than Fort Knox, Kentucky and spare me the ridicule of two more years under her cleats. So far the brass have been little help on this front.

I know I am scowling at the screen of my computer as I type on autopilot. I’ve been researching the same topic for weeks and could write this paper in my sleep. So, my thoughts are free to roam on to the second testament to my inadequacy. My oldest half-sibling, Haley, is twenty-five and a triage nurse currently stationed in Bosnia. She and I got along well enough when she lived state-side, but I hardly ever hear from her anymore. During her tour of duty, she has gone to so many interesting places, met memorable people and given herself completely to her sole passion with the help of the military. She may not be a brain surgeon or invent a cure for cancer, but Haley is living her dream every day. I couldn’t be happier for her… but she is another foil for my own lack of ambition.

I have dreams, don’t get me wrong. I just don’t have the support I need to realize them yet. My parents’ lives are full to overflowing with their careers, Mr. Perfect and the marriage counseling I’m not supposed to know about. Being the quite, low-maintenance person I am, I sink into the background.

“Mace! Have you seen my Nikes?” Nathan’s booming bass halts the quiet clacking of keys as I finish the last of my science report on the ecosystem of the giant panda. Not like I’ll get a decent grade on the thing anyway. Mrs. Kilpatrick despises me and I can’t seem to sway her opinion no matter how hard I work. I’ll be surprised if she actually read the thing before she fails me.

“Mace?!”

Can’t he keep up with his own clothes? “What?” I snap spinning myself around in the neon green swivel chair I had bought with my own money since my parents had dubbed it too hideous to tolerate. They didn’t have to look at it; why should they mind?

I have the insatiable urge to giggle as my older brother pokes his tousled blonde head into my room, his cheeks ruddy from rushing around looking for his precious shoes. The ones he is searching for were his lucky audition sneakers. The things are worn low in the heels and threadbare at the toes, evidence of their longevity. Crystalline green eyes striated by thin wisps of flaxen bangs narrow suspiciously as they dart a cursory glance around my floor which is cluttered with comics, discarded school assignments and the crap I shamefacedly refer to as art. “I don’t have them,” I clarify, “You might look down by the back door. Think I saw them under the mud bench.” They are more than likely in the shoe cubby he has been using for the last three years. I figure he’ll run across them eventually or mom will take pity on him and magically produce them from their usual resting place.

“I could have sworn I had them up here somewhere though,” Nathan mutters swatting his bangs out of his eyes and darting toward the stairway. I can hear his heavy, bounding strides pounding down the stairs and can’t help indulging in a sigh of relief.

Finally, the house pretty much to myself—for a month. No one to compete with for the remote or the last of the hot water for instant cider, I won’t know what to do with myself. Content to wait another half hour or so for free reign, I reread the last lines of my report.

The trespasses of man are slowly eroding the panda’s ecosystem in the heartlands of china. Production of disposable chopsticks consumed largely by Japanese and Chinese restaurants in America is largely responsible for the senseless destruction of the panda’s food source. Importation tax on luxury items made of bamboo including the aforementioned chopsticks has slowed the destruction, but only marginally. A concerted effort should be taken to preserve the ecosystem.

Not my best work, but good enough to fail Kilpatrick’s class with. That is a depressing thought. I’m going to hate it if I have to retake biology because of some slovenly geriatrics’ prejudice. I have told mom a hundred times that the woman despises me. Apparently, ‘it’s all in your head, dear’ excuses the fact that my last progress report reported a “D” instead of my usual “A” or “B” in science.

“Macey Alexia Kingsolver, come down here and say goodbye to your brother! We’re leaving in a few to drive him to the airport,” my mom’s shrilling voice yells up to me. Knowing better than to dawdle and get mom’s panties in a twist, I save my report one last time; I’m a bit neurotic about my school work, and sprint to the stairs. Time to send the one act wonder off to bigger and better things.

+++++++

When I finally make it to the bottom of the stairs, Eli Kraal is already in tears in the middle of our outdated living room and eight-tentacle locked around my brother. Not a sight for the weak of constitution, I assure you. I don’t think I have ever seen the golden goddess without her face spackle, even on the soccer field, so this is a rather grotesque visual pre-wheaties.

As the two gaze longingly into each other’s eyes and ease in for a kiss I swallow the urge to gag. Get a room, gnarls its way through my mind, but prudence is the better part of surviving high school or so my credo has become. Besides, the parentals are all goo-goo eyes over the scene. I think they might be looking to contract a marriage in the near future. I wonder how much the Kraal’s will be willing to pay to take Nathan off our hands. I’m all for ‘free to a good home’ strike that ‘free to any home I don’t currently inhabit, hell hole or otherwise’. Uncharitable, maybe, but I figure Nate will land on his feet no matter the situation. I might not sound like it, but I have a lot of faith in my brother.

“I hate to break up this touching scene, kids, but if we don’t load up we’re going to be late for your flight, Nate,” my dad urges, his tone not far off from the one he uses daily as Staff Sergeant. Dark brooding eyes that carry every bit of his age and experience watch my brother disentangle himself from his girlfriend with wistful envy. I can’t remember the last time my parents parting ways held the same pained affection Nathan and Eli just shared. I know my dad must miss that, or he wouldn’t be going to the counseling sessions with mom.

“Grab your gear, hunny. Eli, can you get my purse and car keys from the kitchen table?” my mom asks fussing around the living room like she’s absolutely lost her soul. Mom doesn’t deal well with being separated from us. But she hadn’t seemed upset when Haley left, now that I think back on it. It hadn’t really registered at the time; I guess there wasn’t much to compare it to until now.

Eli brushes past me in a streak of floral perfume and Febreze to do my mom’s bidding. A rustling from the kitchen tracks her progress, but I am distracted by the intense interrogation my brother was under going.

“Did you pack your toothbrush? Socks? Underwear?”

My brother can’t get a word in edgewise and resorts to that bobble-head nod of his. My dad stands stiffly behind them jaw sawing in boredom.

“Do you have your wallet? Watch? Emergency cash?”

“Mom, I’m going to be fine. I promise—it’s a month, not eight years,” Nathan finally breaks in desperately trying to placate her before Eli comes back. The rustling around keeps a steady façade of polite disinterest but I know she’s listening.

“I know, hunny.” Mom hugs my older brother’s towering form to her tightly. I feel sorry for her. I’m not much company for her, she and I rarely see eye-to-eye like those two do.

“I found them,” Eli announces upon her timely emergence from the other room. Again, she does not spare a glance my way as she trots past me with keys and purse in hand.

“Oh, thank you, dear.” A saccharine sweet smile accepts the gratitude as the golden girl hands over the keys.

“Macey, tell your brother bye. We’ve got to hit the road,” my dad huffs hand already on the knob. “Don’t let anyone in while were gone, okay.”

“Sure, dad,” I reply dutifully as I cross the mottled gray carpet to wrap arms loosely around my skinny, irritating, perfect brother.

“Take care of you and mom while I’m gone,” Nathan whispers into my ear as he hunches over to blanket me with his lanky body.

He doesn’t have to tell me, and I don’t have to respond. “You know I will.”

“Do me a favor?”

I detest this sentimental stuff. “What?” I ask holding a bit tighter, catching the scent of CK One on his collar. This will be the longest we have ever been apart since we were around eight and ten respectively.

“Take care of Eli for me?”

Digging a few nails into his back is less satisfying than demanding he stuff her in his suitcase if he’s so sure she needs a sitter. But like the sainted individual I am, I nod against his shoulder releasing him instantly. Just what I want to do with my upcoming summer. Riiight!

“Later then, Mace.” His smile grows wider as he turns from me and reaches for her hand. Eli is going to ride with them to the airport to see him off; I’m sure my parents will have to pry her off when they get there.

Trailing them to the door, I stand waving until the Rav4 pulls out of sight. With any luck traffic will be horrendous.

Let me know what you think so far??