Chapter Two
Uncle Karl
What happens to me is Uncle Karl. Apparently the authorities contacted him because he’s my closest family. He shows up before the week is out, and takes charge, sorting through the house, arranging for all of my stuff to be packed up to go to his place, and deciding what to keep, what to sell, and what to give away of the rest.
He doesn’t object when I rescue some of my parents’ things that were in the discard piles, like some of Dad’s T-shirts and sweatshirts and CDs, and some of Mom’s books and DVDs. When Uncle Karl is busy, I even grab Dad’s lump of rock that he always swore was actually some precious metal, and Mom’s gold leaf pin out of her jewelry box. I couldn’t have explained why to myself, let alone to my uncle. He doesn’t notice, so he doesn’t ask.
Anyway, he doesn’t seem to have much to say beyond telling me he’s sorry about what happened to my parents. You’d think he’d care more about his own brother. I can’t figure out how to answer, but Uncle Karl doesn’t seem to expect a response. He just keeps on sorting.
The only time he comments on what I’m bringing with me to his house is when I rescue our blender and juicer from the discard items. “I doubt you’ll have much use for those around our place, Mort,” Uncle Karl says in his deep bass voice. “Eric and I don’t eat much health food, you know. We’re pretty much meat and potato guys.”
I just stare at him. I guess I noticed my uncle grilling steaks and burgers and stuff when we visited, but I never paid much attention to it. Dad always grilled veggie kabobs and stuff for us. I clear my throat. “I’m a vegetarian, Uncle Karl.”
He blinks. “You don’t eat meat?” he asks, sounding as if he doesn’t believe it. “At all?”
I shake my head. “Fruit and vegetables,” I tell him. “Eggs, cheese. I’ve had fish a couple of times, but I don’t really like it. We—Mom and Dad and me—we don’t like eating animals that died.”
Uncle Karl’s eyes flash a sharp green for a moment. Then he takes a deep breath and pulls on his beard. “Well, we’ll see what we can do. Maybe you’ll grow out of it. Your father used to like meat.” He studies me for a minute. “You do eat pizza?”
“Of course,” I assure him. “There are lots of great veggie toppings you can get on pizza.”
Uncle Karl doesn’t seem to have any answer to that. It’s the longest conversation we’ve had since he arrived.
Cousin Eric, on the other hand, can’t seem to stop talking. “I mean—I know it’s the pits what happened to your folks. They were totally nice people, you know? But it’s going to be so great having you living with us! I’ve always wanted a brother. Dad already set up a room for you, and you’re going to love it. And we can play video games and watch movies all summer. And…”
Sometimes I lock myself in the bathroom to get away from Cousin Eric.
It’s not that I don’t like the guy. We’ve always gotten along all right during the family summer get-togethers. The two of us play for hours on Eric’s Wii, and watch DVDs that my parents would never let me watch at home. But now that doesn’t seem such a great deal. I’d rather have my parents than a lifetime of playing action games. I wish I could stay with Andy’s family, but it’s not up to me. At least they seem to understand I don’t feel like talking. And they don’t object to my being a vegetarian.
It’s not that long a drive to Uncle Karl’s house—they just live down in Wyoming. But the ride seems to take forever, stuck in the back seat with my cousin. It’s a toss-up between watching the slasher movie Eric sticks in the DVD player, or listening to his non-stop analysis about why horror movies are the best movies in the world.
As much as I want to escape from the SUV, I feel my heart sinking as I see Uncle Karl’s little boat bobbing downstream of the bridge over Haydee’s Creek. We’re almost at the house. Our old home outside of Bozeman was kind of isolated, but not so far from town that I couldn’t get in on my own when I felt like it. Uncle Karl really lives in the middle of nowhere. It never bothered me when we were just there for summer vacation, but the idea of living here makes me feel trapped.
– End Chapter Two –
