Scrambled Lives

 

 

I did not think I could possibly despise the Mortons more than I already did, until I discovered they were a bunch of early-risers and cheerful morning people. At about seven-thirty the next morning, Tabitha pushed my shoulder and woke me up. “It’s time for breakfast. Since you guys showed up late, we let you sleep in.”

Seven-thirty was sleeping in? On what horrible planet could that possibly be true?

I had gotten less than five hours of sleep. During the night I woke up, having to pee like crazy. Trudging into the Mortons’ hallway, I heard someone, an eerily disembodied voice, calling my name in the darkness. “Bertie.” Dashing inside Tabitha’s room, I dove under the sheet and shivered for I don’t know how long. I was so dead-tired that I eventually fell asleep.

I was the last to arrive at the breakfast table. Howard and my mom were sitting so close together, it looked like they were wearing one pair of pajamas. After throwing up a little bit in my mouth, I sat down, ready to shred the first person who looked at me.

Unfortunately, it was my mom. She seemed genuinely happy. Grossly happy. So happy she glowed, like the night before. How does a person glow in daylight? She was defying the laws of physics.

“Howard made your favorite breakfast, honey,” Mom said. “Wasn’t that nice of him?”

I eyed the plate of scrambled eggs, hash browns, and orange wedges in front of me. The meal looked tasty, I hated to admit. After Tabitha said grace, our first breakfast as a “family” was underway.

“Did you sleep well, Bernice?” Howard asked.

“No, I didn’t,” I said, cutting through his overly nice fake concern with my own brand of nasty.

Mom cleared her throat in my direction.

“Not to seem rude,” I went on, “but I can’t stand to be called Bernice. Please call me Bertie, okay?“

“Bertie it is.” Howard smiled so wide I could’ve shoved a banana in his mouth sideways.

I smiled back.

“Thank you. And, not to seem ruder, Howard, but I’m like one hundred percent certain your house is haunted by an evil hoodoo spirit.”

Ah, I said it. And if felt good. Everyone swapped quick looks. The glowing smile on my mother’s face dimmed as she braced herself. Here we go again! It was obvious that neither my mom or any of the Mortons had believed a single word I’d said since I arrived. Everyone was just too nice to say they thought I was nuts or was being purposefully difficult. Howard even tried to redirect the topic.

“Oh, Bertie, I’m so sorry. I take it you had a nightmare?”

A nightmare? The nerve of this bonehead! Before I could tear apart Howard’s nightmare theory, something happened. And it happened in a split second. Everything slowed down. And I heard a warm, beautiful voice in my head telling me to stop talking, and start eating.

There was something about the voice I liked. It was so different from the dark, lonely whisper that had terrified me the night before. This voice had a feeling or a vibe or whatever people call weird things they can’t explain. My great-aunt Tillie—super fun lady, tarot card fanatic, and total nutjob—called them “woo-woo moments.” Whatever it was, I suddenly didn’t want to ruin breakfast for my mother. I wanted her to glow the way she was glowing before I told Howard his beloved house was haunted by evil ghosts. So I stopped talking and started eating.

For that moment at least, I gave in. I surrendered.

I let Howard have his nightmare theory, and I let my mom have her glow. I felt a rush of goodness course through my body. It felt amazing. No joke. I felt happy and full of good intentions. I even made a silent vow that I would try to be kind to Howard, Tabitha, and Mac for the rest of the morning.

Vows can be tricky.

In my defense, Howard got overly mushy. His huge head nodded at me like he could read my deepest thoughts. “The first few nights in a new house can feel so awkward and uncomfortable, Bertie, but I hope in time you will feel more at home here, and that you will also think of us as your family.”

Did he seriously just say that? Strike one.

I was one minute into the vow. My smile had vanished, but I was still silent.

Then Mac stepped up to the plate and took a swing. He pointed out to everyone that I had a gigantic sleep booger in my left eye. “It’s all gooey and gross. Looks like you got brains oozing out of your eyeball.”

Strike two.

Truth be told, two strikes are all you get with me.

“Thanks, Mac!” I said, reaching for a napkin. “I really appreciate how helpful and observant you are. By the way, the nightmare I had was actually about you. Turns out, you will never grow above four feet tall, and you will have chronic acne well into your adult years. Sorry, kid.” I shoveled a forkful of eggs into my mouth. “You win some and you lose some.”

Mac sniffled, piecing together his dire future. Then came a torrent of tears, and a huge snot bubble. I glanced at Mom. Definitely not glowing anymore. Howard looked somewhere between shocked and sad. Tabitha glared at me and scowled.

Playing innocent, I shrugged. “What? Howard wanted me to act like I’m part of the family.”

My jerky smile quickly faded. Mac was still blubbering, blowing his nose into a napkin. I had ruined his breakfast. What was wrong with me? I wanted to crawl underneath the table, and hope there was a magic portal that would whoosh me back to Carver City, to my old life of just one day ago.