TITLE: Silent March
GENRE: YA Recent Historical / Diversity
Dad fixes people’s ears, but he doesn’t listen. Seven a.m. first day in the new house is Take-Your-Daughter-to-Work Day? Bogus.
“We’re leaving in five,” Dad calls from upstairs.
I raise the volume on my walkman. Here I go again on my own, my hands sign my current anthem. Maybe knowing some sign language will keep my big mouth shut at East Maryland Prep instead of ruining my life at West Miami High. Dad didn’t hear a peep from me when he yanked me from Florida midwinter senior year.
“EGG, did you hear me?” Dad pokes his head in the door.
I lift one headphone. “Yes, I’m not one of your patients.” If I was deaf, he’d give a damn.
“Watch your tone young lady.” He pushes his coke-bottle glasses back up his nose. “And turn that music down or you will be. Let’s go.”
‘Why I don’t speak,’ for $100 Alex. I pound up the stairs from my basement bedroom. In Miami, basements don’t exist. Dig and hit water. Now I live in one. At least this one comes with a kitchenette, bathroom, and French doors to the backyard. No soundproofing, though. Mom and Dad fight. Constantly.
In the mudroom, I layer on sweater, jacket, scarf, gloves, hat, and boots.
Dad eyes me. “It’s not that bad.”
“You grew up in Brooklyn.” I fling open the door to the garage which is like a freezer. The car ride is equally icy. Why talk? It’ll come out wrong. I speak my mind better with my hands.