2004 - Mississippi School for Mathematics and Science

could handle. Dad wasn’t here to help thismorning.“Go get your brother and sister,” she said asshe let her purse go to use both hands to try tofind the right key.I shifted my bag and went to my sister’sroom. The hall light poured into her darkroom. She lay on her bed with her eyes closed.I flipped the light on and watched her wince.“Get outside before Mom has anotheraneurysm.”She rolled off the bed with a sneer, pickedup her bag, and headed to the door.I walked a couple feet to the doorway ofmy brother’s room. As I stepped in and pushedthe door open a bit, I caught a glimpse of hisreflection in his bathroom mirror across theroom. I walked over.He was at the sink, his left shirtsleeve rolledup and a razor in his right hand.“Do that later,” I sighed, “we’re alreadylate.”He jumped when he heard my voice andthe razor clattered inside the sink.Quickly, he pulled down his sleeve and followedme out, picking up his bag on the way.My mother and sister were already outside.As I closed the door, the tram appeared aroundthe corner, its bald metal head glaring angrilyin the early sunlight. I shielded my eyes andstepped up the metal platform, the last of myfamily. The steps disappeared and the door slidshut with a prominent clunk as I followed theothers to our seats.As we waited for the tram to stop at thenext house, I noticed the empty seat beside me.I glanced at my mother. She was quiet,undoubtedly fretting over the imminent hospitalbills. Her face was set with a stern expressionthat never seemed to disappear. But thismorning the wrinkles at the corners of her eyesand lips were more evident than usual. I alwayssat beside my mother because I was the onlyone who could handle her. Even my father losthis grip at times.My sister sat opposite my mother near theaisle. She stared angrily out the opposite window,her lips pursed, her eyes narrowed, obviouslyupset, yet still unnoticed by my selfabsorbedmother.Looking at them, both angry and intent, Iagain realized the likenesses they shared. Theyboth had long, curly, dark brown hair, but mymother’s had gone limp years ago from stressand exhaustion and now she always kept thefrizzled strands pulled back in an untidy bun.My sister let her hair fall freely in ringletsaround her face and over her shoulders.They both also possessed small dark eyesthat looked distant and cloudy, a thin, sharpnose, and high, protruding cheekbones—likeancient goddesses, chiseled and cracked in thepages of history books.My brother, conversely, resembled myfather. They each had dusty blonde hair, a widenose, and a prominent chin. They were sullenand quiet, shy and acquiescent. Compared tomy mother and sister, they resembled a pair ofmeek, substandard mortals.I was unlike both of them, like a foreigner.Short, straight black hair fell around my face,with a wide, blunt nose and dark, olive-shapedeyes.The tram stopped at the Prep School firstwhere my brother timidly scurried down theramp. Next, at the Intermediate School, my sistergot off, flipping her hair angrily towards mymother, who was now staring past me and outthe window. I noticed the lines in her face hadeased somewhat.When we stopped at the Secondary School,I started to get up, when I felt my mother’shand on my arm.“Come with me to the hospital,” she said.“I don’t mind if you’re late for classes.”She was more telling than asking me.I sat back down as the tram began to pullaway from the school. I saw my classmatesdragging themselves up the gray steps to themain building for assembly. I was relieved tomiss the tedious morning address.I glanced at my mother. She was sittingwith her head against the seat and her eyesclosed. The wrinkles were almost invisible, herface almost placid.I knew why she wanted me to go the hospitalwith her. She grew up with the developmentof the Genetic Cloning Session. Therewere so many protests and so much controversy,it took a little over nine years for the SessionS V3 0