How I Found My Sister, Pt. 2

"I HAVE A WHAT?"

Agog, aghast, unbelievably pissed off and confused, I eloquently continued.

"WHAT THE FUCK?"

Here I am. Sitting at the table with my brother, Bobby, and my dad. Who, moments ago, had just introduced me to my little step-brother that he named after me as a "tribute." How the hell is that a tribute? What? You couldn't make me a fucking plaque?

So, we've established, my dad was not the most original of people. And that's just the beginning of it. After dropping the bomb on me that I have a sister, I sit in stunned silence for a moment. Not really sure what to say or ask. A multitude of thoughts raced through my head. Where do I start?

Ever since I was a kid, I had wanted a little sister. I grew up with my older brother, Bobby, and it was not your normal sibling rivalry. We hated each other. Constantly fighting and picking on each other. It was rare that any day didn't end in a fight. Our bedroom doors had holes in them from us trying to punch our way through. We threw cutlery at each other and I remember once landing a dart in his neck.  (I threw that in just so you don't think I'm trying to play the victim here.) To escape this bickering, I often latched on to female friends of mine and acted like they were sisters. 2 girls I grew up with, Margaret and Rita, were of Filipino descent. Rita was in my class and Margaret was one grade higher. By high school, we had many people in school convinced we were brother and sister. They lived near me and I was often at their house. Something comforting about having a female perspective on things. Instead of the normal fisticuffs that occurred between Bobby and I. Even as I grew older, I often found myself envying close knit families. And, still do to this day. I love my mother dearly, but she had to work her ass off to take care of 2 boys and give us the best she could. That she did.  I couldn't really talk to my mother about stuff. It just seemed weird. My grandparents were around to help raise us. My grandmother was my best friend,but even then I couldn't relate to her on many kid subjects. We shared smarts and talent, but I never could bring myself to talk to her about the troubles of a teen. I just never felt like I had a close sibling. Because I didn't. Even if Bobby and I had gotten along better, I still don't think I would have been able to have any serious talks with him about girl issues and stuff. I could tell Rita all about my crush on Terri or Carol Ann and ask her how I should go about the process of wooing and courting. If I would have talked to my brother, he would have just said something like, "Quit being a baby, you idiot." Yeah, real loving. While Rita was great and we pretended like she was my sister....well..she just...wasn't.

As can be imagined, when the sister thing was thrown at me, I was not prepared. I think the first question came out something like this.

"What's her name? Where is she? How old is she? Is she okay? What's she look like? What's...."

Yeah. That first question ended up being a barrage of words that came spewing out of my mouth like a magazine of bullets from an M-16. My dad calmly answers what he can. How he was calm, I was unsure. Once again, most likely the language barrier.

"Her name is Marsha."

See what I mean about originality and the lack thereof? My dad's name is Marcial. She's named Marsha. He tells me her birthday is July 2nd, 1976.  I find out later that he had the right month and day, but the year was actually 1977. Okay, so she's about 20. He then says the last time he heard of her was that she was living in Norfolk, Virginia. Which is also where I lived in the beginning of my life. As previously mentioned, my dad was in the U.S. Navy and Norfolk was a major Naval base. I was born in the Portsmouth Naval Hospital in Virginia and we lived in Norfolk and Virginia Beach until my mom and dad got divorced when I was 4.

Okay, her name is Marsha. She's 20. And she possibly lives in Norfolk.

That was about all my mind could process at the time. I really didn't know where to go from there.

He had been in the Phillipines for years and was heading back right after this little jaunt to the U.S. He said he had tried to find her a couple of years before but lost track of her. Steam and fire creeped out of my pores as I shouted.

"YOU LOST TRACK OF YOUR OWN DAUGHTER?!!!"

I erupted with a cacophony of curse words that would have made the toughest prisoner on death row blush. This time, language barrier or no, I think dad got the idea. I was almost shaking. Tears were forming as I shouted.

"Where is she, you son of a bitch?!! How could you lose her? I have to find her! WHERE IS SHE?!!!"

I'm actually surprised I didn't grab him and shake him. My brother decided to act like the big brother and tried to step in. Not in the reassuring and comforting way. But, in his usual, commanding and condescending tone. Telling me to take it easy and calm down. I shot him a look that I believe went through him like a lightning bolt, because he immediately backed off. For some reason, through all of this, I hadn't realized that Bobby wasn't shocked by any of this. We locked eyes for a brief moment and suddenly I realized. Of course he wasn't. HE ALREADY KNEW! And apparently had known for years. I gave him another look suggesting that I would deal with him later. My anger was still directed at my dad though. I sat there just seething. Fermenting my rage into a fine, boiling brew.

My dad still just sat there. I suppose he was unsure of what to say. Perhaps part of him regretted waiting so long to tell me. And maybe my reaction frightened him a bit. Good! Be afraid, be very afraid! He slowly forms his mouth to make words. What the hell is he going to say now? I anxiously awaited. Give me something. Let me know how else I might be able to find her. Tell me other people to contact. Where to find more information. SOMETHING!

Alas, it was not to be. He speaks.

"Oh....and....uh....you already met her."

...to be continued

Comments

[ZiggyNJ]

This is a great story! I can't wait to hear the rest.

[Priscellie]

Wow. What drama! I look forward to finding out what happened next.

[mike.]

Mein gott, tell me this story isn't going where I think it's going. Oh wait, HER name was "Malou". Never mind.