Food Chain, p. 2

That afternoon I decided to take a small detour through Chinatown on the way home. I’d done this a few times before, it wasn’t far out of my way, to snag a fried wonton (Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays) or an egg roll (Tuesdays, Thursdays) from an ancient Chinese man who sold them fresh made off his pushcart for a quarter each. It was a Friday, and Mr. Ling was pulling sizzling dough ball after sizzling dough ball out of the hot oil. There was only one person ahead of me, and it was the last person I expected to see.

“Jake?” He turned around, popping a wonton into his mouth at the same time, chewed, and swallowed before answering.

“Oh, hey. You’re Lanissa, right? Did you hear that the group who did Black Parade is putting out a new album?”

I’m afraid I stood there blinking for a few seconds before replying, I was so stunned. “No…I hadn’t.”

He handed me two wontons. “Want to take a look? There’s a music story just around the corner.” Now, I’m not dumb, I know that girls get beaten, kidnapped, or worse after getting lured away by figures of questionable morale, especially in big cities, and I knew that a boy with an earring and a black t-shirt with a skull that read “The end is coming- SO DRINK MOUNTAIN DEW!” was probably one of those with questionable morale, but on the other hand, he had just bought me wontons, and didn’t appear to have any instrument of violence on his person, so I nodded yes.

The music store was a small lot on the corner that appeared to have been purposely graffitied and was called Blaring Insanity. They did have the new “My Chemical Romance” album, and man, was it good.

“I should introduce to my friend. She works here,” I opened my mouth to say I should be going, but he had already disappeared behind the counter, and I knew it would be rude to leave without saying goodbye (although he didn’t, obviously) and I thought if I at least met his friend I might get some explanation as to why Jake had randomly decided to be my friend (couldn’t he have started when I was sitting with Mary?). Jake returned with a tall, blond haired girl. The Pink Goth Queen.

“Hannah, this is Lanissa. Lanissa, Hannah,” Hannah smiled. I was more than a little stunned by who Jake’s friend was, and noticed when Hannah talked that the jointed mouths of her skull earrings opened too, so it look like they were smiling dead, maniac smiles. It was one of those observations like when a woman is mugged and all she can remember about her attacker is that he had a funny tattoo of Bugs Bunny.

“Oh, yummy! Can I have one?” I looked down and noticed that in the whirlwind of events I had forgotten about the wontons, which now sat cooling in my hand.

“Yeah, sure,” I handed over the paper napkin, which Hannah gleefully took. “Listen, I’ve really,” I checked my watch, only to find I was a half-hour late, “Really got to be going. I’ll catch up tomorrow. Bye!” I darted out the door before either one could say anything.

Only when I saw my building in the distance did I stop running. It had been a freakishly weird day, and the rhythmic pounding of my shoes on concrete helped organize my thoughts, and they were actually coherent for a few seconds. Then, it began to pour.

“Aw, shit,” I swore under my breath as I remembered leaving my L.L. Bean windbreaker at school. I started running again.

“Where in the world have you been? Do you think you can go loping about anywhere you want without telling your father or I and we won’t go completely berserk with worry? You have no right to do that, young lady! And you’re soaking! ”

As I opened the door I was barraged from all sides by my mother, who was seated at the table with a copy of the Chicago Tribune and her cell phone; and my father who wasn’t screeching like a hyper poodle, but was shooting Looks Of Death in my general direction.

“Look, I’m really sorry,” I began. I couldn’t tell about my Encounter From Another World with Jake, my mom would have gone completely homicidal then (You were with a strange boy? Young lady, do you know what happens to girls who go of with strange boys?), but I had to have some sort of really, really, really good explanation, or I would be grounded and have one of those GPS bracelets locked on my wrist until my sophomore year in college. “Its just that I met a bo-new friend at school and we stopped at that wonton vendor on Lilac Street, and I lost track of time. It won’t happen again. I promise.”

The vein in Mom’s forehead stopped pulsing. She sighed, “You’re a teenager now, Issy, almost 14, and we can’t always control you, even if we want to. But there are still rules you have to follow, for as long as you live in our household.”

My dad broke in. “Don’t think there won’t be consequences for this.”

“Harold.”

“Ann.”

Sighs

“No computer for a week,” Mom said, “And no more disappearing, either. We bought you a cell phone, use it.” I briefly thought of the tiny red device, buried somewhere in a pile of clothes and old toys or unopened box. Oh well, I didn’t plan to walk any where except school or home without 24 hour’s notice, a week’s if it was Jake.

“Where did you go?” When I entered my room Isabella was perched on my bed, filing her nails.

“I doubt you were doing that in the dark,” I said, pointing to the emery boarding her hand.

“Answer the question.”

“I was out. With Friends. I have them, you know,” For a sixth grader, Isabella was pretty smart. She was the information broker of the family and had blackmailed me into more than one plot.

“You still haven’t answered me,” She crossed her legs nonchalantly, settling in for the long haul.

“Get out,” I wasn’t up for a game of cat and mouse.

She glared at me.

I glared back.

The challenge was there, unspoken. Back down and lose.

I threw my backpack on top of her and flicked the light back off. This could go on all night and I had more to think about. Isabella could sit in the dark as long as she wanted.

“Isabella! Soccer practice!” Her eyes narrowed to slits as she slipped off the bed and out the door.

“Saved by the bell.”