And So We Moved, a Cantrell: The Early Years Save “Lulu,” Joseph said. Seeing her frown at his chosen nickname for her, he began again, gently taking her by the shoulders. “Louise, I know you’re in ...
It's such a heartwarming story! Thanks for leaving the link on the Discussion forum. I rarely leave there because I find it so hard to navigate. Yesterday, I couldn't even get the forums to load for much of the day. You've created a beautiful family!
The Pangs of Adolescence, A Cantrell: The Early Years Update
With his new glasses Erik quickly became an A student. He breezed through his homework in no time, just to take up an instrument and play. He practices all of the time and when he wasn't playing an instrument, he was busy singing his little heart out. From scales to voice warm-ups to actual songs, some of which he made up right on the spot.
Aaron's grades improved, too, as his jealous nature prompted his competitive side into action There was no way he was going to allow his little brother to outshine him --- on everything.
*~~*~~*~~*~~*
As it was wont to do, time passed. Louise still wasn't herself, but she lit up whenever Brianna was allowed to reach her over their home Compti unit. It was good to see their only daughter looking healthy and actually happy, to Louise's chagrin. The girl was certainly flourishing under the Vulcan tutelage. She was also maturing, as were her sons.
Erik was near the end of the sixth grade, Aaron finishing his first year in Middle School. Cange was in the air. Louise resented losing this time with her only daughter, but what could be done?
Their neighborhood also went through a few changes. Humans moving out and in.
*~~*~~*~~*~~*
On this particular summer day her eldest two boys had gone out front, leaving Joey to play on the jungle gym by himself. All had finished their homework in record time. Joseph was due home any minute. She checked on the meal cooking on the stove top, gave it a stir and then went back to reviewing the mail.
Juggling his soccer ball, Aaron managed to keep the ball airborne for 216 times before it dropped. "Hah," he said to Erik. "Top that."
"I will if you can play a riff," he said, handing the red-haired boy his guitar.
"Why would I want to do that?"
"Why do you want me to juggle this ball?
"Just to see if you can do it."
"Ditto. I betcha you can't even find the E string."
"You're on, you little creep." Aaron took up the guitar, which felt awkward in his hands. He set it down again, quickly.
Picture of Erik chastising Aaron
"I'm not a creep. You're the one who's a creep," Erik shot back. He was about to rush his brother when Joseph walked up the path. "Alright, boys, what's it over this time? Let me guess, the new girl who just moved into the neighborhood?"
"A girl, ew arithmetic bugs, no way." Aaron said. Erik stared at his brother.
"Actually, I think she's very pretty." And then he sang, "She has long blonde hair and big blue eyes --- the moment I saw her I felt alive ---"
"Oh, brother! Shut up. Just shut up. You sing about just anything, you know. Girls, bugs. Life. And I'm sick of it. It's so annoying! Just like you. Dad, and I have my own room?"
"Sorry, no more rooms at the inn . . ."
"But what about Bree's old room?"
"I'm not giving her room away. It's not as if she's gone forever, just for a bit of time --- you could try to get along with him, you know."
"He's a dork!"
"He was nothing but a dork and reminded me of a fork . . . all shiny and bright, with teeth. La la la la la la la."
"STOP IT"
Erik dissolved into giggles.
"Come along inside, boys. I'm certain dinner is ready by now." Joseph struggled to keep the mirth out of his voice. The way these two went at each other reminded him of his two middle brothers As hysterically funny then as it was now. The memory brought with it a certain pang. Michael, the third sons, had recently passed away in a tragic transporter accident. But, boy, could you sling 'em.
While they sat around their dining table, Erik's mind wandered off as it was wont to do. He kept thinking back on that day he and Aaron went to the park at the top of the cliff, not far from their old house. There were kids there, too, for a change. Erik saw a certain girl alone on the pirate ship, away from the others, looking forlorn. Feeling sorry for her, he decided to go talk to her . . .
~"Hi, my name is Erik. Erik Cantrell, and yours is?" The slender girl straightened up to gaze at him. Stare. It was more of a stare, as if she almost knew him, which was impossible. Then her porcelain cheeks suffused with crimson, and she narrowed her large blue eyes.
"Don't you dare try to make me love you, Erik Cantrell," The girl shrieked at him.
Nonplussed, Erik shrugged his shoulders. "What? I just want to be your friend. You seem lonely," he said, concern gracing his young face. He took a step closer and noticed, to his chagrin, that for every step toward her, she took a step backward. "I'm not a monster," he said. "What's wrong with being friends?"
"'Cos you'll move . . ."
"My dad is the principal of the school here. We're not going anywhere anytime soon."
"I didn't mean you'll move I meant we'll move. We always move. I don't even get a chance to have a friend. And when I do . . . we move! I'm not even allowed to settle in. Can't you even imagine what that's like? Here one day, gone the next. I can't have friends. I'm not allowed. So, don't you make me love you. I don't want to love you. I'll just end up with a shattered heart. I can't do that again."
Erik took one last look back as he walked away, bewildered and feeling hurt. What he saw broke his heart. The girl was crying. ~
Suddenly Erik drew himself up. "I said pass the butter, please," Aaron all but shouted.
"Keep your voice down at the table," Louise admonished. Far be it for her to be found wanting in the etiquette department.
"Oh, sorry, here, " Erik said, passing the butter dish to Aaron.
"Just where were you, this time?"
"Just off remembering an encounter is all. It's nothing . . . "After he helped clean up the dinner dishes, Erik dashed upstairs and began writing lyric for a song that would one day make him a household name.