Fiction/Drama
Assumptions — The Beginning—Chapter One
Ayma Kuntz — Summer before sixth grade
“Why do you have to leave, Daddy?” I cried so many tears that I had no more left.
My face was splotchy, my stomach ached, and I had crying hiccups.
I. Was. A. Complete. Mess.
I knew the divorce was coming. My parents fought day in and day out. Daddy would sometimes leave and not return until the morning to take me to school. I even heard my mother once tell him to just disappear and never return. She kept saying he was a waste of her time and money. She was the breadwinner. Even though they were both affluent in the world of law, she thought her money was how we kept going.
My daddy wasn’t home one evening when she brought a client home. I hid so my mother wouldn’t see me. She kissed the man in a way that I don’t think an attorney is supposed to kiss their client. I think that was the end of the road for my parents.
My dad held me close and kissed me on the top of my head. “You are my angel. I love you more than life itself. Don’t believe for one second that any of this was your fault. But sometimes, honey,” Daddy wiped away another tear rolling down my cheek. “Sometimes people can no longer live together or stay married. That’s what happened with your mother and me.”
“But…But…But.” Ugh, I couldn’t stop stuttering. “I want you to stay. Please don’t go.”
Daddy stepped back and held onto my hands. “I can’t, honey,” he said, kissing me on the forehead. “But this doesn’t mean we won’t ever see each other again. I’m your daddy. You’re my little girl. There is nothing that can keep us apart.”
“But you’re going to California. That’s like a million miles away.”
Dad chuckled. “It’s only a four-hour flight. You can come and visit on every holiday and summer vacation.”
I grabbed a tissue out of the box and sat on the lamp table. “Why couldn’t you have taken another job here in Tampa?” I blew my nose and stuffed the Kleenex into the pocket of my cardigan.
"Because, sweetheart, the job opportunity in California was a dream come true. It’s a highly ranked attorney office, and they want me to become a partner.” Dad tickled my tummy, which brought a smile to my face. A sad one, but one nonetheless. “That means lots more money to buy my baby girl anything she wants.”
We both turned our heads when we heard someone clear their throat, indicating they wanted their presence to be known.
My mother, my father’s ex-wife as of yesterday, stood at the living room entrance. She had on her work-related attire, meaning her thousand-dollar outfit, and a scowl that would make a serial killer run and hide. “Ayma, your father’s ride to the airport is here. Say goodbye and let him leave.”
I held my breath and let it out slowly. I was trying to keep my emotions intact. I knew my mother would have a conniption if I broke down again crying.
This was it.
My daddy was leaving and going far away. I wouldn’t see him every day. He wouldn’t be there to comfort me when my mother played the wicked witch of the west, which happened regularly.
No, she didn’t physically abuse me, but mentally, she wore me down.
All. The. Time.
My dad was trying to get full custody. Still, the social workers and the judge in the divorce case thought it would be best for me to stay in my home state of Florida, continue my education at the same private school, and be with another woman. The courts asked me if I had any issues living with either parent. Of course, both were in the room during the questioning. Dad looked hopeful, and my mother gave me a look that indicated I’d better not make her look bad. I chose to be with both, meaning I would split my time and live with both during various times of the year.
“I love you, baby. I’ll call you when I get to Cali.” Dad kissed me once more on the cheek, then left. He didn’t say anything to Mother as he passed her. I heard the front door close and knew my life would never be the same.
I waited.
And waited.
And I waited some more for my dad’s phone call to come, but it never did. An hour after he left, my mother confiscated the cell phone he’d given me. Her rationale was, my house, my rules—you don’t need a phone. I thought for sure she would at least let me have it back when my dad called—that's if he even did—but she never came to get me out of my room.
I stayed in my bedroom the rest of the day.
And the day after that.
And until the days turned into weeks,
My mother never checked on me. She knew where I was, so what was the point, right?
It was summer vacation, but my mother had me doing more online coursework through my school, Bayshore Prep. She said, ‘An active mind would never get bored.’
I watched as vacationers and locals enjoyed the beach, which was right across the street from my house, but I wasn’t allowed to go by myself, and my mother would never take me. My daddy used to sneak me across when my mother wasn’t home. It was our little secret. She didn’t want me to interact with most people unless they were kids from Bayshore Prep. But even then, they weren’t allowed over our house, nor was I permitted to attend any of their parties and events.
I was housebound right now. I didn’t see or speak with anyone except for the caretakers who came by every day to tidy up and make sure the meals were cooked. My only form of enjoyment was school.
YAY.
WooHoo.
Life was good.
NOT.
Halfway through the summer, I got bored. Like really, really bored. Sure, schoolwork kept me busy, but I could only do so much in a day. My mother wasn’t home. There was some big case going on that kept her away all day and up most nights working.
I decided I would go to the beach. Not for very long, maybe an hour or so, just to get out of the house. The caretakers had come and gone, and I’d eaten and finished all my schoolwork, so what the harm, right? I was twelve years old and had been stuck in the house for two months. My daddy still hadn’t called, and who was going to know?
I got my shorts on, a t-shirt, and lots of sunscreen I had left over from a long time ago. I couldn’t look like I’d gone outside when my mother returned. I left through the back door and walked across the street to the bay, as in Tampa Bay.
There weren’t too many people out this afternoon. I could see why. It was a whopping ninety-five out, with bright sunshine and lots and lots of humidity—perfect beach weather for Florida.
I strolled along at a leisurely pace. This place held so many memories and secrets, ones only my daddy shared with me. I missed him more and more every day but I came to realize maybe I’d been forgotten.
I picked up seashells and hid them in the pocket of my shorts. I built a small sandcastle and watched as the waves tore it apart and washed it all away. I watched as some small children with floaties wandered down to the waterline, only to be picked up by one of their parents. They all laughed, took pictures, and were genuinely happy. Me, on the other hand, not so much. I wish my life could’ve been like that, but it wasn't—no time to reflect on the past or worry about what I couldn’t change.
The sun in the far west on the horizon signaled that I needed to go back home before my mother returned. I walked back up the beach, crossed over at the crosswalk, then walked the block back up to my house.
My stomach hit the sidewalk as soon as I entered through the side gate of the fence running along the perimeter of our property. My mother’s car sat outside our five-car garage. I said a silent prayer, hoping she didn’t check on me and would be in her office busy with work. I would be in so much trouble leaving the house if she found out.
I snuck back to the rear entrance, pressed the security code, and entered. The kitchen was empty, which was a good sign. I took off my sandals just in case they would make too much noise going across the ceramic tile floor. I made it to the carpeted hallway and almost to the closest staircase before I heard a dreaded sound—my mother’s office door opening.
Maybe I could make it up the stairs before she made it down the hallway. Please. Please. Please. Just once, could something go my way?
One step.
Two steps.
Eighteen more to go, and I would be home free.
“Ayma. Would you care to explain where you’ve been?”
And I was caught. I turned around and faced one ticked-off mother. The scowls I’d gotten before were smiles compared to the expression on her face right now.
“I… um… I”
“Quit the stuttering, Ayma. I asked you a question, and I expect an answer in
Three
Two
One.”
Her hand became a fist as she finished counting down the seconds with her fingers.
“I walked over to the beach.” I didn’t lie. Why would I? I would be in double trouble if she found out.
“Did you have permission? I strictly forbade you from leaving this house when I’m not home. You will write me a ten-thousand-word paper on civil disobedience.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
My mother turned around and then looked back over her shoulder after taking two steps. “Such an unruly child. And your father did call."
My heart sped up. Maybe he was coming back. Perhaps they were going to let me visit. Even though I just got reprimanded, a smile forced its way out. That was until my mother gave me a look—the one where she smiles, but it’s not a good one.
“He said you probably wouldn’t be able to visit at all, not even on vacations. I wouldn’t count on him sending you anything or hearing from him again. He’s done with us, well, mainly you, Ayma.” She continued back to her office.
I willed the tears away and slowly made my way up the steps and back to my room.
The rest of the summer flew by. I got my mandated essay completed two days after my mother assigned it to me. I didn’t think I was disobedient going to the beach, but my mother thought otherwise. She was right, daddy never called again. No letters. No postcards. I was totally forgotten.
I finished my summer courses a week early. I didn’t have much to do, so homework kept the time going by quickly. According to the progress reports sent out, I was at the top of my class with a grade point average of five-point-six. No, I wasn’t an academic geek, I was just forced to take online courses in addition to my regular school curriculum.
I had two weeks until we started back for our fall semester. I hoped being in middle school would be better. Bayshore Prep was an excellent school for academics, but it wasn’t all that good for socializing and making friends. I’d gone to school with most of the other students since preschool. Most of us came from the same community—as everyone would say, the wealthy part of Tampa. If only they knew what went on behind the security fences and closed doors.
During some of my free time, I surfed the web, checking out all the different happenings around the city—most, no, none of which I would be able to attend. I came across the website for Bayshore Academy, the local public school. The pictures showed everyone having so much fun. Sports teams, dance, cheerleaders, the drama club, debate, art, music—they had freakin everything.
Those kids looked like they knew how to have fun. The ones at Bayshore Prep already had their college major picked out before we hit middle school. It was assumed I was going into law. Both my parents were attorneys, as were my grandparents and everyone else before them. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. My mother always picked the classes for becoming an attorney career pathway at school, but I couldn’t decide if that was what I wanted to do. I was twelve, not a senior in high school. But I didn’t have a choice, what my mother said I was going to do always won out against my choices.
The more I looked at what Bayshore Academy had to offer, the more I wanted to be there.
Question to myself, would my mother allow it?
I hadn’t seen her since the day she came home early and found out about my beach trip. I heard her come home late most nights, but neither of us was inclined to communicate with one another. This evening was the first in a long time she was home early. Now, I had to get my courage up to ask an important question.
Okay, Ayma, it’s time to act like a big girl. Maybe stand up for what you want.
Ha, easier said than done.
I walked downstairs and heard my mother in the kitchen. Not that she would make anything, we had help for that, so I was sure she was heating up whatever the cook had prepared for her earlier in the day.
I watched her from the kitchen entry. She still had on her business attire and looked stressed.
“Mother.”
She turned around and looked surprised that I was speaking to her. Then, the realization that I was addressing her must’ve hit because I got the usual grimace instead of the half-smile. “What can I do for you?"
My hands shook as I held out the papers to register for Bayshore Academy. “I um…I was, um…wondering…”
“Spit it out, Ayma. I don’t have all day for your stuttering.” Mother sat down on the bar stool connected to the breakfast bar. “You won’t go far in life and your law career with that kind of demeanor.” Her tone was low, as if she didn’t want me to hear her rude remark. But knowing my mother, she said it just above a whisper so that I would hear her harsh comment.
I placed the sheet of paper on the counter. “I was wondering if I would be able to transfer to Bayshore Academy for middle school.” Whew, I got my question out without any stammering for words this time.
If my mother hadn’t recovered so quickly, I might’ve had to perform the Heimlich maneuver during her coffee drink. “You. Want to go to Bayshore Academy? You do know it’s a public school. God knows why they put the word academy in there. It’s for the low-lives that live across the bridge.”
“Yes, ma’am, I know it’s a public school. They have a lot to offer as far as extracurricular activities that Bayshore Prep doesn’t. Most college applications want to see a well-rounded individual, one who can do the academics and also acclimate to those who aren’t as educated.” I pulled that bunch of bull poopie right off the top of my head. “Maybe I could get some of those credits and then transfer them back. I have the highest grade point average in my class, so I am well prepared academically.”
I could see the wheels turning in my mother’s head as she strummed her fingernails on the counter. Maybe, just maybe, she was considering this option.
“It would save me a hundred thousand a year if you attended for one or two years.”
YES. This was going better than I thought.
“I’ll think about it and let you know tomorrow.” Mother shooed me away with a flick of her hand. “Can I please eat in peace and not be bothered?"
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.” I scurried away before I irritated her even more and she would change her mind. I did a happy hop, skip, and jump in the hallway as I made my way back to my room.