The Cold (An Easy English Story): Part 3
“I can’t believe it.” Dad comes into my bedroom. “Why did you take the job this morning?”
I am confused. Dad wanted me to get a job. He often said, “Why can’t you find a job? You need to try harder and apply to more companies.” But now he is frowning, and his arms are crossed. From my desk chair, Dad looks much taller than me, but when I stand up, he is the same height.
“I did what you wanted,” I argue.
Dad sighs. “Come on, Ari, think. There is a lockdown now. Your mom is crying in the bathroom.”
“But journalism is a dangerous job! The world is a dangerous place!”
Dad’s green eyes look sharply at the floor. Then, without replying, he walks out of the room. This is normal for Dad. Since I was thirteen years old, he has always been thinking of my mistakes. Everything I do is a mistake to Dad. And everything I do is dangerous to Mom.
I stop thinking of my parents and look at my computer. The screen glows blue. I am waiting for Ms. Sato’s email, but it doesn’t come. I got the job… right?
Feeling worried, I text my best friends, Carlos and Priya. I didn’t tell them about my job yet.
Priya replies immediately. yes!!!!!!! i knew you could do it, queen!!!!
Carlos replies right after. Are you going to write about the bodies?
I start typing I think so, but my boss hasn’t—, when an email appears on my screen. An email from Ms. Sato. I thought she was going to send an email only to me, but she sent it to nine other people. She wrote:
Hello everyone,
As you know, many news companies are contacting us. They all want to know about the bodies. Sadly, we do not have a lot of information for them, and it is difficult to leave our houses during the lockdown. You ten are the only employees who agreed to leave your houses, so you will be very busy. I attached a PDF to this email. It has details about your schedule for tomorrow. Please look at it and let me know if you have any questions.
Also, I want to welcome Ari Brooks to The Observer.
-Emily Sato
I open the PDF. Each journalist’s name is next to a different location. A journalist called Tatiana Vasquez will visit the police station. A journalist called Jimmy Cheng will visit the family of the first person who died. What interesting place will I go to? I look for my schedule.
Ari Brooks / January 23, 2024 / Internet
The Internet?! Ms. Sato just told me that I will need to go outside! That my job will be dangerous! Why don’t I get to go to interesting places like the other journalists?
Maybe it is because I am new. Maybe Ms. Sato doesn’t trust me yet.
When I was in fifth grade, my class performed Alice in Wonderland in front of our families. I wanted to be Alice, but instead, I was the Queen’s servant. I was a playing card. When my teacher told me about my part, I cried until the teacher called my mother. When Mom came to school, she wiped my tears with her sleeve and said, “There are no small parts—only small actors. Be the best playing card you can be.” At the time, I didn’t understand the meaning of “small actors,” but her words helped me. I decided to practice my part every day. Mom and I made my costume out of cardboard and painted a big red heart on my face.
On the day of the play, I yelled my only line, “Off with her head!” more loudly than anyone else. Actually, I was too loud. Some of the parents laughed. But Mom smiled and gave me a thumbs-up. Dad was smiling, too. And Alex, too…
Now I know about “small actors” and “big actors,” and I will not be a small actor at my job. Even if I have to search for information on the internet about the bodies, I will work as hard as I can.
I will find better information than anyone.
I wake up at 5:00 a.m., and I can’t fall asleep again. My work does not start until nine, so I decide to make myself breakfast. Usually I eat cereal or something easy, but this morning I will make pancakes, eggs, and sausage. I walk downstairs quietly, stepping on the right side of the stairs because the left side squeaks.
Surprisingly, Mom is already awake. She sits at the kitchen table, looking at her phone. She notices me when I turn on the kitchen lights. Even more surprisingly, her voice is cheerful. “I woke up early to make you breakfast. I haven’t started making it, though. I thought you were going to sleep later. Are you excited for your first day of work? What time are you leaving?”
I forgot to tell her that I will work from home today. Does she know? Is that why she is happy today?
“I’m actually not going out today. Ms. Sato wants me to search for information on the Internet.”
Mom jumps up and claps.
“Don’t get excited. I’ll probably go out soon. Our schedules change every day.” I expect Mom’s smile to disappear.
Mom walks over and gives me a hug. “I am just happy that you are home today. Want me to make you lunch? I’m working from home today, too.” Is she not upset?
“Sure. I’ll be pretty busy, though, so is it okay if I eat in my room? I want to do a good job on this research.”
“Only if you’re okay with this!” Mom takes out a small box from a kitchen drawer. I untie the purple ribbon and open it slowly. Inside is a black pen with a silver clip.
“It’s a recording pen,” Mom says. “I’m sorry you’re not able to use it today, but I hope you’ll have interviews real soon.” She grabs my hand. The dry winter air often makes her hands bleed, and three of her fingers are covered with Band-Aids. They feel rough against my skin. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I still don’t want you to go out until the lockdown is over, but you’re an adult, and I trust you.”
I squeeze her hands back.
“But just be safe.”
Mom’s gift is so kind. I don’t want to tell her that I already have a recorder. “This is perfect, thank you. And I’ll be safe. I promise.”
Fun for Fluency! 