“Come here, Hagin. Drop that laptop right now and get over here”, screamed Gina, Hagin’s mum.
“But mum, I told you already. I’m busy over here”
“Busy chatting with your friends, right? Come over here and help me make dinner before your dad arrives”
“Gimme a minute, mum”
Gina was now fuming with anger. Hagin was only 15 years old and was proving troublesome, too troublesome for most kids she knew that were his age, and she probably knew only a couple 15-year-olds. They’ve been a happy family of three – she ; the wife, Kurt ; her husband and Hagin ; their son and only child. She’d been married to Kurt since he was 25 and she was 23, and all through their 16 years of marriage, they’ve been an happy couple. Hagin, on the other hand, though a fun and industrious boy, sometimes liked to get his mother angry. She even started to think he did it on purpose maybe just to spoof her. No one knows what’s really going on in that thick head-of-hair of his.
She went to the couch he was sitting on and sank herself in beside him.
“Get off that couch right now and come help me here, or so help me God, I’ll whoop your sorry behind so bad, the heat generated from there would be enough to make dinner for all of us”, Gina threatened.
Hagin was safe in the knowledge that his mother loved him so much and so wouldn’t raise an hand against him but he didn’t like to get her angry, so with grumbles, he stood up and followed her to the kitchen.
They both worked for a while, Gina being the boss of the kitchen and ordering Hagin to do the little stuffs but still, he wouldn’t stop grumbling as if he had been given the most herculean task.
“What’s up with you?” She inquired harshly.
“Oh! You better not give me nothing. You’ve been grumbling like a dysfunctional train all day long and I ask you but all you say is ‘nothing’?”
“Okay mum. This is it. I have a project paper to present tomorrow and I was discussing it with my group. Its difficult and we haven’t gotten as much info as we’d have loved to get, and the little time I get, what do I do? You make me work in the kitchen. Its not fair, mum”
He had a point, Gina thought. She moved closer to him and ran her hand through his hair. She does that only when she wants to pacify him.
“I’m sorry, Kurt. Its just, your dad’s bringing someone home tonight and I wouldn’t want this dinner not to be ready. I’m sorry”, she pleaded with him.
“I know mum. I’m sorry for yelling at you like that too”
She bent a little to match his eye level and asked. “So what is it you guys are working on?”
“Its cholesterol mum. Cholesterol”
“Why? You should have told me earlier”, she replied with a glint in her eyes. “Go check the attic. Among the books stacked there is one of my term papers on the subject. I hope it holds the key to all you’re looking for”
“Thanks mum, you’re the best”, said Hagin, giving his mum a little peck on the cheek.
She smiled a little.
“What about the dinne–”
“Don’t worry about that”, interrupted Gina. You go and complete your work.
A happy Hagin raced the stairs upstairs, pulled down the ladder to the attic and climbed in. He switched on the light and coughed for some time. The place was a little dusty due to underuse. He started for the piles of books against the wall and started looking at the book spines to know which one he was looking for.
That was when it caught his eye. A brown, leather-bound book, with no title on its spine. That was strange. All books had titles on their spines. He was curious, by nature, so he pulled it out, upsetting the other books in the process but caring less. Over the years, it had gathered dust. He went under the yellow bulb illuminating the room and with his left hand, wiped off the dirt in front of the book but still, no title. He opened the book and on the first page, written boldly in ink, were the words :
“THE CHRONICLES OF KURT SUMMERS”.
That’s his dad’s name, he thought. He never knew his dad had a diary or journal of any sort. This was about to get interesting. He settled himself down in the rubble of books he created, opened the first page and began to read.
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