Sunny Side Upside Down
Funeral Act
_______________________________ $ _____________________________
So, another funeral. Everyone has been dying on me since I was eight. The unsettling question, what happens to me now? Every time someone has died in my family something has happened to me. Ok, from the first funeral, it all actually started when my younger brother died. My parents were too grief stricken that they couldn’t live in the same house anymore. So we packed everything we owned up in a Uhaul truck with the help of our next door neighbor and we moved west.
The house we moved to was a nice one story in an average sized town called Lurmer. It was fine for me to transfer from one school to the next. Making friends usually came easy for me. It was the same in this town. So, I lived there for 2 years before my parents passed away in a car accident. When I came home from school, an officer was waiting for me. He took me to the hospital and explained what happened. He kept saying, “ It was no ones fault. ” , as if he had caused the accident. He was so jumpy about it, and nervous. When we arrived at the hospital he launched from his seat and nearly fell over when the doctor came out to get me. The doctor looked at him strangely and asked the guy if he was a relative. “ N-no, I’m, I went to pick her up from her house to bring her here. H-how are they doin‘? ” There he goes, stuttering again. He must have never dealt with kid’s parents dying before. Not that it’s a common occurrence .“ I’m sorry sir, if your not a family member I can’t tell you what condition they’re in. ” “Condition ”, I thought they were dead. He turned and looked down at me. “ Your name is Sairy right? “ I nodded. The doctor then grabbed my hand lightly and led me away from the cop, leaving him nervous and unsure. Or at least that's what I thought he looked like, standing there idiotically scratching his head. As if he just woke up from a coma and didn’t know where or who he was.
He took me deeper into the hospital, down the white halls. Nurses passed us, and I would occasionally glance in the rooms with open doors to see if I could find my mom and dad. Sometimes I would see a little kid, or an old person, or adults like my parents, but they weren’t in any of the rooms I searched in. He led me into an office where he sat down behind a desk and I sat across from him. For a few minutes we just sat there looking around the extremely white room or at each other. Finally he decided to wake up from his own stupor and let me know what was going on with my parents. “ Sairy, right, it’s Sairy? ” I nodded again. He entwined his fingers and laid his hands on the desk. Duh, you asked me that five minutes ago. “ I’m so sorry Sairy, but….uhhh, I’ve never done this. Not for a kid.” He dropped his head, sounding apologetic. He looked back up at me. “ I’m sorry, Sairy, but both of your parents had severe brain damage. Neither of them made it through the crash.… I’m so sorry. ” So they’re…..gone?
And that was it. The next day it was decided at a family meeting that I would go to live with my aunt. Her name was Carolyn. No one else had the time for me. Even though she didn’t have time for me either. She was a single mom with five kids to feed. After a year she couldn’t take care of me anymore. So the next person I stayed with was my uncle Kail. He was a heavy partier. When he came home, he was drunk most of the time. Other times he was just depressed because he couldn’t get a job. He wasn’t a drug addict. But he never took things seriously. Said it made him depressed. He drank a lot too, and was on the verge of becoming an alcoholic. He and His friends would come crashing through the door laughing their heads off at some sort of secret joke. There was a couch and a small 18 in. TV in the living room. The living room was very small and there was almost no indication where the living room ended and the kitchen began. Sometimes I have to help him get to the couch after one of his beer fests.
I hate it…. I hate it.
In the mornings I made him breakfast. He feels so bad about it. Every morning after his ‘bad’ nights I stood there, holding him, trying to comfort him. It hurt so much to see him like that. But I couldn’t stop his addiction. The last straw was after he got really drunk one night and tripped over himself, banged his head on the counter and fell into an unconscious episode for a week. During that time school would call, and I didn’t answer the phone because I was afraid it was one of his friends trying to get him out to drink again. Eventually I was taken away from him by a concerned neighbor and the court. But…I…I wanted to stay with him. He wasn’t a bad guy. Even though he did bad things. He would also make me laugh, and he would do his best to get a job. Sometimes he would even take me out for ice cream.
“ He only drinks sometimes. ” I told the court.
“ He never hurts me. “ I told the jury.
“ He is a good man. “ I told the court.
After that, I was sent to my dad’s grandma’s house. It was an old one story with the yellowish paint pealing from the walls. The neighborhood was a few farms that were a fair distance from each other. There wasn’t anyone besides my great grandma Jose to talk to anyway. No one came to visit her. She didn’t talk much, but when she did it was usually something mean or blatantly rude. She was my dad’s grandma though. How could I tell her she was mean? She also always had a frightening scowl on her face. It wasn’t condescending, just ….scary. She gave me chores, everyday. But my uncle Kail never made me do anything. I just did anything I wanted. So I was irritated that I had to work so hard to meet her picky tastes. She didn’t like the fact that she had to take care of me. She didn’t like my clothes, or the fact that I wasn’t baptized, or that fact that I wasn’t strong enough to lift a wheel barrow of bricks to the back. I was 12 now. I wasn’t that strong. But I worked out in the fields with her everyday and night. Her farm was small. And she usually worked on the garden while yelling at me, letting me know that I was doing something wrong. One time I found a bee hive and had to knock it down. But it was soooooo huge!
” If I beat that thing the bees are going to sting me! “ My voice cracked as I yelled it back to my stoic great grandma. She only responded with a grunt. That meant I had to do it or I was going to be considered a coward for the rest of my life. And I wasn’t a coward. So I swung my rake back, and then brought a beastie blow down on the hive. And the bees were waiting for me.
The next day I looked like a boiled puffer fish. I didn’t go to school that day. Jose couldn’t help but crack a smile as I lay in bed with a pout.
She made me do that on purpose! I thought angrily.
Slowly Jose started to open up to me. One conversation we had was when she and I were sitting in the kitchen together and I was doing my homework. She sipped her tea, staring at me. She gave incredulous looks at the math paper in front of me.
“ The school says your having trouble in math. ” She states rather pointedly.
I refused to hang my head. It would only show her that I felt bad about it. *sigh* “ Well, there are some things I get and some I don’t ” I stated rather blandly in retort. She humphed and got up and left the table. I thought she was going to leave me alone but she came back with a book this time. A math book. She opened it and placed it on the table for me to see.
“ This might help a little bit. ” She pushed the book towards me and I looked up at it, and then at her. She seemed to be focused on something very interesting on her crumbling walls though. I went back to my work.
“ That’s ok, I don’t need it. Thanks. ” I said without looking back up from my paper. She sat there for another minute before she left saying, “ I have to water my garden. ”
As I watched her retreat I thought it was very strange of her to even interact with me at all. Maybe she wanted me to hurry up with my homework so I could do more work. Well, I went back to my work, and I was always frustrated with the problems I was doing. Not to mention that the math book she had set there hadn’t left me alone, and my curiosity was peaking. My eyes were drawn to it and I kept telling myself to look away and ignore it. It was a weapon of hers to use against me.
In act, I should take as long as possible to do my homework in spite of all the work she makes me do, and for all those bee stings I got, and the squirrel bite, and the scorpion sting. She owes me a few relaxing moments. I thought spitefully.
But the work I was doing was hardly relaxing, and it took me forever to solve one problem. I hated the fact that I couldn’t figure it out. What was it that I didn’t understand about it? My eyes drifted to the math book on the table.
NO! I won’t give in! I won’t give in to her evil math book and her pompous attitude.
My eyes went back to the book again. Suddenly my hand decided to go rebel on me and reached for the book. I slammed my hand on the table.
No! That’s just what she wants. She wants me to use the book so it makes me feel like I owe her. But I don’t owe her, only for her taking care of me, and I already earn my stay. There is no way her trick is going to work. No! I thought gritting my teeth angrily and glaring at her stupid math book filled with answers and tricks that would make my math homework easier. Suddenly my mind went numb and my hand reached for the book.
NO!
My eyes started scanning the book.
NOOOOOO! I roared mentally.
My mind started to absorb the helpful CRAP in the book.
Nooooooo! My mental voice came out as a whine.
I started to use the MAGICAL tricks of learning from the book and applied them to my math homework.
noooooooooooooo! My conscience became a mere squeak. There was nothing I could do. When I was finished I was shaking mad at myself. But I repressed the shivers and sighed in defeat. I picked up the book and walked outside. She was there, trimming her flowers. I walked up to her and held out the book for her. She stopped, glanced at the book, at me and went back to her work.
I mentally snapped. “ Here. “ I thrust the book towards her more.
She stood up angrily, wiping her dirt covered hands on her apron. “ That isn’t mine. ” She glared.
“ Wha-what? You’re the one who handed me this book, so it is yours. “ I shifted.
She finished wiping her hands and placd on her hips. “ The book isn’t mine. Do you want ot be punished? ” She warned.
There was no way I was backing down now. “ This IS your book. Who else is there that lives here to own it?! “ I yelled back.
She put her hands down angrily. “ I handed it to you didn’t I. It’s yours now. I don’t want it. ” She stormed back into the house. I was so mad that I was prepared to through the stupid book on the ground. But I didn’t.
Did she really given it to me?
That night, after I had completed all my chores without gewtting bitten, stung, or yelled at, since Jose hadn’t come out of the house since our fight, I went inside to prepare dinner.
Funeral Act
_______________________________ $ _____________________________
So, another funeral. Everyone has been dying on me since I was eight. The unsettling question, what happens to me now? Every time someone has died in my family something has happened to me. Ok, from the first funeral, it all actually started when my younger brother died. My parents were too grief stricken that they couldn’t live in the same house anymore. So we packed everything we owned up in a Uhaul truck with the help of our next door neighbor and we moved west.
The house we moved to was a nice one story in an average sized town called Lurmer. It was fine for me to transfer from one school to the next. Making friends usually came easy for me. It was the same in this town. So, I lived there for 2 years before my parents passed away in a car accident. When I came home from school, an officer was waiting for me. He took me to the hospital and explained what happened. He kept saying, “ It was no ones fault. ” , as if he had caused the accident. He was so jumpy about it, and nervous. When we arrived at the hospital he launched from his seat and nearly fell over when the doctor came out to get me. The doctor looked at him strangely and asked the guy if he was a relative. “ N-no, I’m, I went to pick her up from her house to bring her here. H-how are they doin‘? ” There he goes, stuttering again. He must have never dealt with kid’s parents dying before. Not that it’s a common occurrence .“ I’m sorry sir, if your not a family member I can’t tell you what condition they’re in. ” “Condition ”, I thought they were dead. He turned and looked down at me. “ Your name is Sairy right? “ I nodded. The doctor then grabbed my hand lightly and led me away from the cop, leaving him nervous and unsure. Or at least that's what I thought he looked like, standing there idiotically scratching his head. As if he just woke up from a coma and didn’t know where or who he was.
He took me deeper into the hospital, down the white halls. Nurses passed us, and I would occasionally glance in the rooms with open doors to see if I could find my mom and dad. Sometimes I would see a little kid, or an old person, or adults like my parents, but they weren’t in any of the rooms I searched in. He led me into an office where he sat down behind a desk and I sat across from him. For a few minutes we just sat there looking around the extremely white room or at each other. Finally he decided to wake up from his own stupor and let me know what was going on with my parents. “ Sairy, right, it’s Sairy? ” I nodded again. He entwined his fingers and laid his hands on the desk. Duh, you asked me that five minutes ago. “ I’m so sorry Sairy, but….uhhh, I’ve never done this. Not for a kid.” He dropped his head, sounding apologetic. He looked back up at me. “ I’m sorry, Sairy, but both of your parents had severe brain damage. Neither of them made it through the crash.… I’m so sorry. ” So they’re…..gone?
And that was it. The next day it was decided at a family meeting that I would go to live with my aunt. Her name was Carolyn. No one else had the time for me. Even though she didn’t have time for me either. She was a single mom with five kids to feed. After a year she couldn’t take care of me anymore. So the next person I stayed with was my uncle Kail. He was a heavy partier. When he came home, he was drunk most of the time. Other times he was just depressed because he couldn’t get a job. He wasn’t a drug addict. But he never took things seriously. Said it made him depressed. He drank a lot too, and was on the verge of becoming an alcoholic. He and His friends would come crashing through the door laughing their heads off at some sort of secret joke. There was a couch and a small 18 in. TV in the living room. The living room was very small and there was almost no indication where the living room ended and the kitchen began. Sometimes I have to help him get to the couch after one of his beer fests.
I hate it…. I hate it.
In the mornings I made him breakfast. He feels so bad about it. Every morning after his ‘bad’ nights I stood there, holding him, trying to comfort him. It hurt so much to see him like that. But I couldn’t stop his addiction. The last straw was after he got really drunk one night and tripped over himself, banged his head on the counter and fell into an unconscious episode for a week. During that time school would call, and I didn’t answer the phone because I was afraid it was one of his friends trying to get him out to drink again. Eventually I was taken away from him by a concerned neighbor and the court. But…I…I wanted to stay with him. He wasn’t a bad guy. Even though he did bad things. He would also make me laugh, and he would do his best to get a job. Sometimes he would even take me out for ice cream.
“ He only drinks sometimes. ” I told the court.
“ He never hurts me. “ I told the jury.
“ He is a good man. “ I told the court.
After that, I was sent to my dad’s grandma’s house. It was an old one story with the yellowish paint pealing from the walls. The neighborhood was a few farms that were a fair distance from each other. There wasn’t anyone besides my great grandma Jose to talk to anyway. No one came to visit her. She didn’t talk much, but when she did it was usually something mean or blatantly rude. She was my dad’s grandma though. How could I tell her she was mean? She also always had a frightening scowl on her face. It wasn’t condescending, just ….scary. She gave me chores, everyday. But my uncle Kail never made me do anything. I just did anything I wanted. So I was irritated that I had to work so hard to meet her picky tastes. She didn’t like the fact that she had to take care of me. She didn’t like my clothes, or the fact that I wasn’t baptized, or that fact that I wasn’t strong enough to lift a wheel barrow of bricks to the back. I was 12 now. I wasn’t that strong. But I worked out in the fields with her everyday and night. Her farm was small. And she usually worked on the garden while yelling at me, letting me know that I was doing something wrong. One time I found a bee hive and had to knock it down. But it was soooooo huge!
” If I beat that thing the bees are going to sting me! “ My voice cracked as I yelled it back to my stoic great grandma. She only responded with a grunt. That meant I had to do it or I was going to be considered a coward for the rest of my life. And I wasn’t a coward. So I swung my rake back, and then brought a beastie blow down on the hive. And the bees were waiting for me.
The next day I looked like a boiled puffer fish. I didn’t go to school that day. Jose couldn’t help but crack a smile as I lay in bed with a pout.
She made me do that on purpose! I thought angrily.
Slowly Jose started to open up to me. One conversation we had was when she and I were sitting in the kitchen together and I was doing my homework. She sipped her tea, staring at me. She gave incredulous looks at the math paper in front of me.
“ The school says your having trouble in math. ” She states rather pointedly.
I refused to hang my head. It would only show her that I felt bad about it. *sigh* “ Well, there are some things I get and some I don’t ” I stated rather blandly in retort. She humphed and got up and left the table. I thought she was going to leave me alone but she came back with a book this time. A math book. She opened it and placed it on the table for me to see.
“ This might help a little bit. ” She pushed the book towards me and I looked up at it, and then at her. She seemed to be focused on something very interesting on her crumbling walls though. I went back to my work.
“ That’s ok, I don’t need it. Thanks. ” I said without looking back up from my paper. She sat there for another minute before she left saying, “ I have to water my garden. ”
As I watched her retreat I thought it was very strange of her to even interact with me at all. Maybe she wanted me to hurry up with my homework so I could do more work. Well, I went back to my work, and I was always frustrated with the problems I was doing. Not to mention that the math book she had set there hadn’t left me alone, and my curiosity was peaking. My eyes were drawn to it and I kept telling myself to look away and ignore it. It was a weapon of hers to use against me.
In act, I should take as long as possible to do my homework in spite of all the work she makes me do, and for all those bee stings I got, and the squirrel bite, and the scorpion sting. She owes me a few relaxing moments. I thought spitefully.
But the work I was doing was hardly relaxing, and it took me forever to solve one problem. I hated the fact that I couldn’t figure it out. What was it that I didn’t understand about it? My eyes drifted to the math book on the table.
NO! I won’t give in! I won’t give in to her evil math book and her pompous attitude.
My eyes went back to the book again. Suddenly my hand decided to go rebel on me and reached for the book. I slammed my hand on the table.
No! That’s just what she wants. She wants me to use the book so it makes me feel like I owe her. But I don’t owe her, only for her taking care of me, and I already earn my stay. There is no way her trick is going to work. No! I thought gritting my teeth angrily and glaring at her stupid math book filled with answers and tricks that would make my math homework easier. Suddenly my mind went numb and my hand reached for the book.
NO!
My eyes started scanning the book.
NOOOOOO! I roared mentally.
My mind started to absorb the helpful CRAP in the book.
Nooooooo! My mental voice came out as a whine.
I started to use the MAGICAL tricks of learning from the book and applied them to my math homework.
noooooooooooooo! My conscience became a mere squeak. There was nothing I could do. When I was finished I was shaking mad at myself. But I repressed the shivers and sighed in defeat. I picked up the book and walked outside. She was there, trimming her flowers. I walked up to her and held out the book for her. She stopped, glanced at the book, at me and went back to her work.
I mentally snapped. “ Here. “ I thrust the book towards her more.
She stood up angrily, wiping her dirt covered hands on her apron. “ That isn’t mine. ” She glared.
“ Wha-what? You’re the one who handed me this book, so it is yours. “ I shifted.
She finished wiping her hands and placd on her hips. “ The book isn’t mine. Do you want ot be punished? ” She warned.
There was no way I was backing down now. “ This IS your book. Who else is there that lives here to own it?! “ I yelled back.
She put her hands down angrily. “ I handed it to you didn’t I. It’s yours now. I don’t want it. ” She stormed back into the house. I was so mad that I was prepared to through the stupid book on the ground. But I didn’t.
Did she really given it to me?
That night, after I had completed all my chores without gewtting bitten, stung, or yelled at, since Jose hadn’t come out of the house since our fight, I went inside to prepare dinner.
