i want to study english – Page 2

The Cold (An Easy English Story): Part 8

I found Dad’s note two days ago, and I cannot stop thinking about it.

We still can’t find him. Every day I watch the news. Will they find a new ice body? Will this one be Dad?

While I am watching the news, Ms. Sato calls me. “Ari,” she says with a gentle voice. “Are you doing okay?”

“We can’t find my Dad.” I want to cry.

Ms. Sato is quiet on the other end. She finally says, “Well, I have some information that might help you know where he is. Some of our journalists interviewed the police. Yesterday, the police found something the same about all of the ice bodies. About a month before each person died, they all took out $50,000 from their bank accounts. It was cash, and they took it out in small amounts. About $5,000 ten times. Because they didn’t use a credit card or do a bank transfer, we don’t know who they paid the money to.”

My chest feels cold. I know what Ms. Sato wants me to do.

“Ari, if you check your Dad’s bank account, you can see if he took out $50,000 recently.”

I can’t speak. If Dad really took out $50,000, then I know he is an ice body.

Ms. Sato adds, “Don’t worry about work this week. And I hope you can find your dad.”

She doesn’t say, “I’m sure he’s fine.” We both know the possibility.

Mom is still sleeping, so I wake her up. With her eyes closed, she whispers, “Did they find him?”

“Maybe we can find him, Mom. I need you to check your bank account.”

“Why?” Mom sits up and reaches for her glasses beside her bed. Before I can answer, she turns on her phone and opens her bank app.

“I need to see if Dad took out money from the bank recently.”

“Oh, Dad keeps most of his money in his own account.” Mom looks worried. “But I can try to find his login info.” Mom walks to Dad’s desk and begins searching through a stack of papers. She never asks why I need to check his bank account, and I don’t want to tell her.

We look through Dad’s notes for an hour. Finally, Mom cries, “Here it is!” She opens Dad’s banking site on her laptop and types in the login and password with shaking fingers. My heart sinks when I see the screen.

December 22, 2023 -$5,000
December 29, 2023 -$8,000
December 30, 2023 -$6,000
January 5, 2024 -$7,000
January 11, 2024 -$3,000
January 15, 2024 -$8,000
January 22, 2024 -$8,000
January 25, 2024 -$5,000

That’s $50,000.

I tell Mom about Ms. Sato’s phone call. She closes the laptop and calls the police.

When Mom called the police, they said sadly that Dad is probably an ice body. They told Mom to keep checking the bank account. If Dad takes out more money, then they know he is still alive.

So far, the police have found 755 ice bodies. And now there are 82 missing people. Now, banks will have to call the police when any customers take out a large amount of money, but this won’t help people like Dad who already took out the money. The ice bodies were only found in or near Clayton. Local hotels are filled with scientists, FBI agents, and news reporters. They all hope to find more information about a disease, a killer, or a war. But no one has an answer.

I call Priya. I don’t know what to say to her. When she picks up the phone, singing “Ari Brooooooks!” in her usual way, I start to cry. I cry for several minutes, and Priya waits patiently on the phone. When I finally whisper the words “ice body,” Priya says, “My dad is asleep now. I’m coming over.”

Priya, who lives five minutes away from my house, runs through the front door and hugs me. We stand in the front hallway for a long time, just hugging. Priya’s shoulder is soaked with my tears. Priya holds my hand as we go upstairs to my bedroom. She says quietly, “I noticed your Dad’s car isn’t in the driveway. Is it your Dad?”

I nod.

“Did they find his body?”

I shake my head, crying more.

“Then there’s still time. He might be okay.” Priya grabs the tissue box from my desk and wipes my face. “How do you know that he died?”

I slowly tell Priya about the $50,000. She squeezes my hand tighter.

“Ari, Carlos told me that you found ice in the mall, right? At the cafe that closed?”

I nod.

“Then let’s go! The police aren’t being helpful. We can do more.”

I look outside at Mom’s car.

“I know your mom will worry,” Priya says, understanding the problem with her plan. “So let’s sneak out tonight.” She whispers, “I’ll pick you up at 2:00 a.m. We’ll come back before 5:00.”

I sigh. I couldn’t save Alex. But maybe I can save Dad.

Part 9>

The Cold: Part 7

The Cold (An Easy English Story): Part 7

Carlos picks me up in front of the mall. I get in his car, close the door, and whisper, “I saw something crazy.”

“An ice body? Should we call the police?” Carlos looks worried.

“No, but there was ice. And it was still cold, so it must be new.”

Carlos laughs. “But it’s winter! There’s ice everywhere. And there’s about five restaurants in the mall. They use ice.”

“But this ice was in an old cafe! Remember Green Leaves? They’re closed now.”

“Ari, you went into the construction area? You can’t do that! And you can’t write a news article about the ice. If the police read the article, they’ll know that you trespassed.”

I sigh. Carlos is right.

Carlos pauses, and then asks, “Do you think the ice was used for the ice body?”

I nod. “The cafe is right next to the dumpster.”

“Do you think the construction workers killed someone?”

“No,” I say. “I think that someone put the body in the freezer overnight. The construction workers only work during the day. They seemed normal, too. I don’t think they killed anyone.”

Carlos and I are quiet for the rest of the car ride.

When I get home, I walk into the living room. Mom is reading a book on the couch. She looks up. “Is Dad still parking the car?” she asks.

“I don’t know,” I say. “Did he go somewhere?”

Mom frowns. “He went to pick you up from the mall.”

“Carlos picked me up, remember?”

Mom closes her book and goes to the garage. Dad’s car is not there. “He said that you called him. He said that Carlos couldn’t bring you home, so you asked him. I heard him talking to you on the phone!”

My hands begin to sweat. “That wasn’t me. I never called Dad.”

Mom picks up the phone and dials 9-1-1. She tells the police that her husband is missing and that he might be at the mall. The police ask for information about him, and they say that they will call again soon.

Mom and I wait. We sit quietly in the living room for hours. When a car drives by our house, Mom jumps up to see if it is Dad’s car. It never is.

The sun rises. My eyes want to shut, but I keep them open. Mom looks tired, too. I know that we are thinking the same thing: What if Dad becomes an ice body?

Mom’s shoulders shake, and she puts her head in her hands. I cover her with the blanket on the couch. “Dad will be okay,” I say. But I don’t believe it. “I’m not hungry, but let’s eat something, okay?” I don’t have the energy to cook, so I put bread in the toaster and boil water for tea. Mom lies down on the couch, looking at the window.

Right after we finish breakfast, Mom’s phone rings. “We still can’t find your husband or his car,” the policeman says. “But we will keep looking.” Mom begins to cry again.

“This is good,” I say, hoping to comfort her. “If they didn’t find him yet, he’s probably okay.”

“But what if the police find Dad’s car in a river, like with Alex? It took the police two days to find him. Maybe Dad’s car slipped on ice or…” Mom can’t stop crying. We almost never talk about Alex. But we remember Alex in everything we do. Now we drink tea because he liked coffee. We eat dinner in front of the TV because the table feels empty with three people and four chairs. We keep his old bedroom closed, untouched.

I begin to cry, too. Mom may be right.

After calling Ms. Sato to explain that I have a family emergency, I went upstairs to try to sleep. Mom went to her bedroom, too. But I can’t sleep. I think about Alex. He died last year in a flood. He was 17. It was raining hard, but he wanted to go to his friend’s house. He stayed until the night, and when he drove home, he didn’t see that the river water was above the bridge. The water quickly washed his car into the river. The car flipped over, and he drowned in the water.

After Alex died, my parents fought a lot. Mom asked Dad, “Why did you buy him a car?” and Dad asked Mom, “Why did you let him go out when it was raining?” I stayed in my room and studied for my exams. Slowly, Mom and Dad stopped talking about Alex. They couldn’t find answers for their questions, so they stopped asking questions.

I still miss Alex.

I miss his loud music. I miss his baseball collection. I miss his wide smile. I miss his messy bedroom.

Without thinking, I get out of bed and walk down the hallway to Alex’s old room. When I open the door, I smell Alex’s favorite body spray. I used to hate that body spray. Now the smell makes me feel like Alex is hugging me.

I look around his bedroom. It is exactly the same as one year ago. His homework is still on the desk. His dirty clothes are still on the floor. Even his coffee cup is sitting next to his bed. I lie down on his bed and look at the tree outside his window. This tree had flowers on it when he died. What did he think when he looked at those flowers in the morning on that day?

When I open my eyes, it is dark. Probably 6:00. Remembering I am in Alex’s room, I feel the furniture in front of me until I find his desk lamp. His bad handwriting on his English homework makes me smile.

And then I see another piece of paper next to the homework. This paper has neat handwriting with small letters. Dad’s handwriting. The paper only has three sentences:

I’m sorry, Alex. If I didn’t buy you that car, you would never have died. It’s all my fault.

Part 8>