Last Year

by Amelia Burlingame

 

Nothing was going right that day. I had missed the school bus so I

headed to the library to use the pay phone to call home. I dropped my

35 cents into the slot and heard my dad's voice. "You have reached the

home of Burl, Mary, Amelia and Kate Burlingame. We can't come to the

phone right now..." I kept wondering where my mom could be; it was

already a quarter till five. I had never actually walked all the way to

my house in Enchanted Lake from the Kailua library. But there's a first

time for everything. I put on my headphones and prayed that The

Offspring was in my CD player. It was. But even with the music, this

wasn't fun. It was hot, muggy and after fifteen minutes my legs and feet

began to hurt. Then, suddenly, I was saved. Justin and Shannon, two high

school friends, pulled up in Justin's truck and offered me a ride. A few

minutes later I was home. I even beat Mom home. No need for lengthy

explanations of my whereabouts.

 

About 10 minutes after I got home mom arrived and started the nightly

ritual.

Mom: "Do you have homework?"

Me: "Yes."

Mom: "Well, get to it. I'll start dinner. It's hamburgers tonight."

 

And like clockwork, she turned on the TV waited for the 6 o'clock news

to come on.

We ate our dinner on trays that night. My little sister, Kate, and I

were in the kitchen fixing our dinners. From the kitchen we could see

Mom was already in her special "TV-watching" chair. Kate and I walked

into the living room just as the commercials ended and newscaster Joe

Moore appeared on the TV screen. The lead story stopped us in our

tracks. "The owners of the Honolulu Star-Bulletin have decided to shut

down the newspaper after 118 years of publication." I could actually see

the blood drain from my mom's face. After a silence that seemed like

forever, Kate finally spoke up. "Why did he say that, Mommy?" she asked.

 

"I don't know," my mom replied.

How could they be closing the Star-Bulletin? The paper was like our

second home. Dad has been a writer there for 20 years and Mom, an

editor, for 12. I practically learned how to walk in the Star-Bulletin

newsroom.

 

Mom hurried to the phone and dialed dad's work number. No answer. Then

she called a couple of her colleagues at home. No answer there either. A

little while later we all heard the door slam. It was Dad. He had tried

to hurry home to tell us before we heard it on the news, but he was too

late. They kind of just stood there looking at each other, like they

needed to do something but didn't know what. Then my parents sat my

sister and I down in the living room and asked us how we felt about this

sudden news. We really didn't know how we felt. It just happened without

any warning. Mom said she didn't know what would happen but that we'd be

OK. I kept wondering if we really would. Would we have to leave Hawaii?

I didn't want to move away from my friends and family. I didn't like to

think about it because every time I did I would get sad and depressed. I

really wanted to change the subject.

 

Suddenly I remembered about the Open House at school. Reminding my

parents about it did change the subject, at least for a little while. My

mom let herself calm down for a few minutes and then we left. Throughout

the open house I kept looking at my mother. She was like a zombie - not

really hearing what my teachers were saying and wandering through the

crowd in the hall. I kept having to push her in the right direction.

Other parents who had seen the news that night asked us what we were

going to do. "We don't have a clue," Dad said..

 

It's been a year since that night. Miraculously, the Star-Bulletin has

continued to publish, kept open by a restraining order issued in an

antitrust lawsuit against the newspaper owners. The case is complicated

and I don't understand it exactly. I can't explain it. But nothing has

been quite the same at our house since that night. Our lives were put on

hold. Things changed. We didn't take a vacation this year. There were

fewer trips to the mall. Family decisions were put off. It seems like my

parents' favorite saying has become, "We can't decide that now." I

haven't liked living with my parents' up and down moods. I kept

wondering if our lives will ever get back to normal.