Tomorrow indeed. It was Sunday. I was indulging myself Carter’s guitar, trying to clear my mind of what I had heard last night. Me: on stake, ready to sell, as if an auction. Price: our 13 hectare land. This can’t be happening. I moved a hand and pressed some strings as my knuckles rang them on my other hand, rattling my senses with its bass melody.
Carter suddenly dashed in. “Dad’s calling you downstairs,”
“What?”
I stopped strumming with a thopp on my hand. Here it comes. I gave Carter the guitar and strode off.
When I reached the living room, Granny, Gramps, Mom, Dad, Aunt Mandy, and Uncle Mev were there, just as expected. Granny and Mom were crying, the others just glanced at me with lightless eyes. The silence was aggravating. I felt a cold twinge in my heart, and I don’t like it.
I decided to keep my spirit. I raised my brows and said, “Whattup?”
As I sat, Dad gave me the paper he was reading. I took it. Gramps started explaining. And as expected, he explained straight to the point which made our conversation boresome.
“Our fields had been owned by us, Ramritzy, for many years. My great grandfather started to settle here and did nothing but to use this land as a field.” He shuffled on his seat, “Unfortunately, he didn’t told my grandfather that this was really own by the Bloodsons, and he was just borrowing it for farming. My great grandfather had been warned after ten years, but he told them that he could buy it. So they waited. But few years later, he died. After that, my grandfather took hold of the land. He was warned also. Instead, he considered this untrue and forgot about it.
“Today, Jacky,” he told me, “is probably the last time they will inform us. They gave us two options. Only two because they know that we can’t afford the land,”
“THE HECK!” I suddenly exclaimed in shock, “Fi-- … fifty-seven quinti--…” I couldn’t continue the words. The outlay of the land was, well for almost one and a half century, very high.
There was a total silence after I react. They were waiting for me to read everything in the papers, which I wasn’t. I was just finding the words marriage or engagement. My eyes almost popped out of my eyes when I found it. I can’t believe it was really there.
I sighed and felt my heart recovering from the words I found. I felt slapped on the face. I slump the papers down on my lap. “Where would we go if we surrender?”
“Well,” said Gramps, “If we did, we could mov--”
“We have nowhere to go,”
Our heads all shot toward Carter, who was sitting on the stairs, peering. I knew he was listening all along.
“We have nowhere to go,” he repeated. He stood up and got down. “Aunt Megan only owns an apartment, while Uncle Brock lives with his mother-in-law.”
“Carter!” Mom scorned with a tight voice. “Go back to your room.”
“We don’t have enough money to buy this place. If we could afford this place, we could buy it. But it is not for sale. If we hire a lawyer, then we’re putting ourselves at risk.” Carter pressed on, his expression blank, eyes on me.
“Art,” Dad stood and ushered him towards the stairs. “I know you have a knack on this, but please,” he said, “not now,”
“Dad’s right, Art,” said Mom. “and you should not talk like that. You’ll get everyone confused,”
But Carter kept his position. Dad had a hard time to push him up. I don’t know why.
“You should go to your room now,” he muttered to my brother, “and stop--”
