The Stuff of Legends, Chapter 1
by Pleasant Dreamer
Chapter 1: Me and Mel
I occasionally hear people say that divorce is one of the worst things that can happen to a child. I try not to laugh when I hear that. My name’s Brandon and my little sister Mel (short for Melody) and I are a product of what some would call a “broken home.” Let me tell you something, our parents splinting up was the best thing that ever happened to us. I can’t remember too many times growing up that Mom and Dad actually seemed happy together.
Mom’s some type of doctor, a neural something-or-another (I can never remember the technical term). It’s not the hospital type of doctor, it’s the research kind. Mom’s field of expertise is the brain. Supposedly she’s one of the best in the field of studying the “mysterious of the human brain” (at least that’s what the dust jacket on her last book said.) She’s won all sorts of awards and her work is definitely the driving force in her life, but that’s enough about Mom. She’s lame.
Dad on the other hand is awesome as hell. He’s got the coolest job on the planet. He’s an archaeologist (sort of) who studies various ancient cultures. He actually started his career in college and by the time he graduated they’d offered him a teaching position. Trust me when I tell you that if you knew my Dad then the idea of him sitting in a classroom all day would make you laugh. Dad likes to refer to himself as an “educated man of action” and is definitely not the stay in one place kind of guy, let alone the kind who could do the same thing day in and day out.
He may not be teacher material, but Dad is still all about education. The school system is one of the main reasons we moved to California after the divorce. I don’t think it hurt any that California is about as far away from New York as you can get without a passport, which is where Mom and her research facility are located.
So the reason I said Dad Is sort of an archaeologist is that he is more like an extremely successful treasure hunter (though I think the technical term is smuggler.) Yeah, Dad’s work isn’t all on the up and up, but looking at our house it’s safe to say that it pays extremely well. You see the problem with being a “real” archeologist is that most civilized countries have laws protecting their “cultural heritage,” so no matter how much work it is for the researcher to find and unearth the artifacts they have to hand them over to the government. I can totally understand why Dad had said fuck that and gone the “treasure hunter” route. Prestige is nice, but in a capitalistic economy it’s worthless and Dad has a healthy respect for money. I’ve inherited Dad’s love of history and intellect and am proud to say that I intend to follow in his footsteps.
I was 13 when my parents split and Dad moved us to the west coast. That was three years ago. I actually have a hard time trying to figure out how my parents could have ever got together in the first place. Dad’s passionate and adventurous and Mom is cold and scientific about absolutely everything. Mom was definitely not cut out for parenting to say the least. Sometimes I wonder if she just wrote Mel and me off as a failed experiment. Since Mom had no use for us she was fine with signing off full custody to Dad, which was fine with us.
My goofy kid sister Mel is 13 (three years younger than me) and is extremely energetic. No matter what time of the year it is she is always on at least one sports team. She also does different styles of dance and performs in local theater. The kid’s always on the move. She’s very outgoing and guessing by the number of her friends who feel the need to hang out at our house, I’d say she’s pretty popular too. She really is a sweet kid, but sometimes I worry about her. Maybe it’s just because growing up the way I did I was forced to mature quickly, but to me Mel seems pretty immature even for thirteen. She and I look out for each other and are really close. The divorce was hard on her and that’s when I started having to step into a more parental role with her.
Her room looks like it could belong to a kid half her age. She has a massive collection of stuffed animals thrown everywhere. She’s also into pretty much all forms of magic. Real or make believe, it doesn’t matter to her. I know it sounds odd seeing as how into sports she is, but the truth is she’s also pretty nerdy about that kind of stuff too. She is super into things like Harry Potter, elves, wizards, and crap like that. One of her favorite things to do when she is home is to play with her little black kitten Jinx that she jokingly refers to as her familiar. Yeah, I forgot to mention that she’s weird into cats. She loves pretty much any cat she sees instantly and wants to take it home. I had eventually given in and got her Jinx for her last birthday, but lately she’d begun pestering me for another one since she felt Jinx needed someone to play with when she was gone.
Like I said, her love of magic doesn’t stop with just the fantasy stuff. She is crazy about all types of stage magic too. It didn’t matter if it was illusions, card tricks, sleight of hand, hypnotism, or any of that crap she goes nuts for all of it. At least once a month I take her to a little club in the city called the magic shack to watch the local talent perform. She absolutely loves it. Personally I find it a bit dull, but I certainly don’t mind checking out the magician’s assistances in their sexy little costumes as they prance and twirl on stage.
That’s another thing about Mel that I forgot to mention. Mel is the ultimate tomboy; there is nothing she likes more than getting dirty and kicking butt on the field. Almost her entire wardrobe consists of baggy shorts, t-shirts and baseball caps. Even at the beach she wears long baggy shorts and a t-shirts most of the time. It wasn’t until recently when she joined her friend’s rhythmic gymnastics team that I noticed just how attractive she really had become. Watching her bend and stretch in tights and a leotard made me look at my little sister in a whole new light.
Since Dad’s work keeps him away a lot of the time I take care of Mel. Don’t get the impression that we live alone though. God I wish that was the case, but there’s always some old bitch nanny living with us. I’ve never gotten along with any of them. Dad’s always reassuring me that they’re only there for Mel, but apparently not one of them has ever realized that since they’ve always felt compelled to tell me what to do in my own damn house.
The thing that bothered me the most was how they all act like Mel’s their responsibility. I’ve practically raised that kid these past few years and I shouldn’t have to have these old fossils who barely know her second guessing my decisions like they know what’s best for her. Truth be told, even as cool as he is, I blame Dad for the constant string of shitty nannies since he keeps hiring the exact same type of opinionated control freak grandmother over and over again. I’m thrilled to say that the latest one had quit just a few days ago. Apparently she couldn’t take butting heads with me anymore. Good fucking riddance.
The best part about her leaving meant that Dad would have to return ahead of schedule from his latest trip to Egypt. He’d been gone a few weeks now and while he never missed our scheduled talks on Skype, I did miss seeing him in person.
As much as I was looking forward to seeing him again I knew he wouldn’t be home for long this time. He told me the last time we spoke that he was on the trail of something big. Knowing Dad and how involved he gets with his work I figured he’d fly in just long enough to find another nanny and then take off again. I’d never tell him this, but Dad can be almost as dedicated to his work as Mom can be to hers. Still it would be great to see him again. His plane would be landing in just three days. I immediately decided to hold off on telling Mel the good news. I knew just how impulsive and impatient she could be. A three day wait would seem like forever to her and she’d get so antsy waiting she’d become super irritating to live with. You can’t imagine how annoying she became every year waiting for Christmas. Like I said, she’s a good kid, but she needs to learn to act her age.
>>Chapter 2>>