Casting off the night, I opened my eyes to the silhouette of my mother standing in the doorway.
“Morning, honey,” she said, seeing me stir, with a weary smile and her body half-shielded by the wall.
“Is everything okay?” wiping the dreams from my eyes to get a clear picture.
“Of course—Just come down for breakfast.” With a lingering mournful expression, she paused before walking away.
As I laid my head back, I heard her shuffling steps retreating as I stared at the wood-planked ceiling. Its rough painted surface in need of repair. Lost in thought about Mom’s trouble, my eyes drifted to the circular stain from an old leak. The edges were just visible against the chipped red paint. It wasn’t until the clamoring of my family that my thoughts pulled me back to the present. “I hear you,” I said to my gurgling stomach as I kicked my legs out from the covers. Get up before there is no food left, echoed in my head, trying to shove off further procrastination and the warm bed. Tucking my legs underneath, I pushed myself up, the cold ground stinging my feet. Walking out, I headed toward the sounds of eating.
“It’s about time,” Dad greeted me. “Early bird catches the worm.”
“I know, I know,” taking the lone place beside my sister.
“Today is Choosing Day,” Patty said as I took my first bite.
“Is it?”
“Your sister is correct,” Dad’s deep resonant voice concurred. “Make sure you make yourself presentable.”
“He’s fine, dear,” Mom said, taking a bite.
“A little preening wouldn’t hurt the kid!” Dad glared at her. “He’s finally ready … It’s finally his Choosing Day.”
“Please don’t remind me,” she said, hanging her head low and staring blankly at her food. “I wish we had more time.”
“Tom is twenty-one, for Pete’s sake!” Dad snapped, still glaring, a crumb of food stuck to his long coarse beard. “Patty is fifteen and is ready!”
Pushing herself up, Mom silently turned and walked away. Her head hung low as she tried to hold back tears.
“She was like this with all your brothers and sisters,” shoving his gullet with more food. “She’ll get over it,” food spewing from his mouth with a wet smack.
“I’m going to go outside,” I said, wanting to get away. “I was only a little peckish, anyway.”
“And that’s why it took you so long,” he cackled as I turned. “Make sure you preen yourself!” he shouted as I walked out.
“Oh yeah! I’ll preen myself,” I shot back in a deep mocking tone. “Can’t he just say ‘clean up’ like a normal adult?” I mumbled, exiting the house in desperate need of putting some distance between us.
Stepping out into the yard, the bright morning sun stung my eyes blindly. As they adjusted, the neighborhood buzzed with the sounds of early preparation. As I strutted past the next house, I heard the normal shouting of Mr. Gobb, which was an everyday occurrence since the accident took his hearing.
“Sorry about that,” Chester said, exiting the house. “Just another perfect morning,” his eyes rolled back into his head. “At least it’s Choosing Day and I get out of here!”
“That’s one way to look at it!”
“I heard it is finally your time!” he said with a slight smile.
“That’s what I’ve been told,” playing it off.
“About time,” he joked with a strike to my side.
“I’m barely older than you!” I defended.
“Whatever, old man!” Chester chuckled.
“In all seriousness, does it bother you that we don’t know what happens after?” I asked. The question plagued my head.
“That’s your problem.” Chester stopped and faced me. “You always question!”
“We aren’t sheep!” I defended.
“Very true,” he smiled. “Let’s go before you get too old!”
Shaking off his jabs, we walked to the grass field that had already amassed a gathering. “What time is the Choos—” The sound of a bell cut me off.
“You couldn’t have planned that better,” Chester applauded.
“I know, right!” laughing with him. “I’m going to find my parents.” Reaching out, and gave him a nudge to the shoulder.
“No worries … I’ll see you after the ceremony and on to our new lives!”
Looking around, trying to find my family, I finally saw them walking down the road. Craning my neck above the crowd, I waved them over.
“This is a suitable spot,” Dad said as he neared. “Isn’t it a suitable spot?” he turned to Mom, his presence intimidating.
“It is,” she answered quickly, her eyes red and puffy.
“It will be just fine,” I reassured her.
“My sweet child,” she cooed, cupping my face. “You are my sweetest one.” A tear formed in her eye.
Leaning my head against her, I waited for the ceremony to start. As everyone gathered and chatted among themselves, the sound of the gate opening silenced the crowd. With everyone standing at attention, we waited.
“I always have a hard time understanding what they say,” I said with a smile, trying to lighten Mom’s mood.
“Pay attention!” Dad snapped, puffing out his chest. “This has been a tough twenty-one weeks!” The disgust on his face was no longer hidden.
With heavy steps, almost shaking the ground, the Chooser stood before us, his wide-brimmed hat casting a shadow over his face. “Alright, you bunch of turkeys! Thanksgiving waits for no one!”
J.L. Gang 
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