We Are the Ants by Hutchinson Shaun David

Author:Hutchinson, Shaun David [Hutchinson, Shaun David]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Simon Pulse
Published: 2016-01-18T16:00:00+00:00

26 November 2015

My Thanksgiving nightmare began with family pictures.

Mom forced me and Charlie to wear white button-down oxford shirts tucked into jeans, while she, Nana, and Zooey wore white sundresses. We looked like a cult on our way to the beach, where Mom was convinced we’d find the perfect backdrop somewhere among the dunes. I spent the entire walk trying to devise an excuse to escape family dinner so I could go to Diego’s barbecue. He’d sent me a couple of texts, but I hadn’t written back.

“Why are we doing this again?” I asked.

“Because I want a nice photo of us all together.” Mom had been chain-smoking all morning, puffing and ashing with violent flicks. Bonding over illegal drugs hadn’t magically solved our problems. Mom hadn’t woken up the next day and decided to quit waitressing. However, she had planned a more elaborate Thanksgiving dinner than usual, so maybe that was something.

“Well, I think this is really special,” Zooey said. She carried her sandals dangling from the ends of her fingers. “And when we take this picture next year, we’ll have little Milo or Mia with us.”

“Mia or Milo? Please don’t saddle your child with either of those names. It’s already starting at a disadvantage having Charlie as a father.”

Charlie lunged at me, but I hopped out of the way. Zooey chuckled. “We’re only trying out names to see how they fit. Nothing is certain.”

Nothing was certain. Not even that we’d be alive next year. Last night I dreamed I was on the ship, but rather than aliens, I was surrounded by Mom, Nana, Charlie and Zooey, Audrey, Diego, Marcus. Even Officer Sandoval was there. They were screaming at me to press the button, but none of them could offer a convincing reason why I should. And we were all speaking Latin because, apparently, I’m fluent in Latin in my dreams.

After walking for twenty minutes, Mom finally found her perfect spot. Tufts of sea oats waved gently in the breeze, and the blue sky was smeared with white clouds to match our outfits.

“Mother, I want you in front.” Mom directed us into position as she set up the tripod and camera. When Charlie attempted to help her, she snapped at him. “And Henry, don’t forget to put your tongue behind your teeth when you smile; otherwise, you look goofy.”

“Where’s your father?” Nana squawked, and each time she did, Charlie whispered something into her ear to calm her, but it never stuck. Nana was lost in time, and I wished I could have traveled with her. Sometimes her ignorance of the present was a blessing, whether she knew it or not.

“Ready? Let’s try not to screw this up.” Mom pressed the timer on the camera and dashed to take her place between me and Charlie.

“Say ‘cruel and unusual punishment,’” I muttered.

Charlie laughed and ruined the picture, and Mom dressed me down in front of the strangers who’d gathered to witness our group humiliation.

By the time Mom was satisfied she’d gotten the

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