The Decision

by Jessica L.Q. Calanayan

David sat a few feet in front of me, his attention fixed on the TV. Goombas and Koopatropas were threatening Mario and Luigi: the Super Mario Bros. Ever since Mom and Dad had given us the Nintendo for Christmas last year, he had developed a strict schedule of video games and cereal breaks.

Typical, I thought to myself. Our family is falling apart and he is still playing that stupid game. I knew though, that deep down inside, I wished I could be him at that moment. I wanted to be young and unaware. I wish I were playing that stupid game right now. I wish I were doing anything but this. And what exactly were we doing? I knew but I didn't even want to think about the words that could best describe our situation.

My little brother was ready for bed, which was not really saying much. I don't think he even owned a real set of pajamas. Every evening at nine o'clock he went to bed wearing the same green shorts, yellow shirt, and red socks that he had played in all day.

That stupid brother of mine. Color blind just like Dad.

I looked over at my Dad. He was sitting off to my right on the ottoman, which for some reason was never in front of the right chair. He had his elbows on his knees and his face resting in his hands. I could see the tiredness in his eyes, even through his glasses.

Funny how looking at him through his glasses makes him look older and worn out.

Dad still wore the same clothes he had worked in. Looking at his outfit, I guessed my brother's lack of fashion sense would get better with age. Dad's pants and shirt were both brown, but two very different shades of brown.

I hope this doesn't take long. It seemed like a few hours had passed since we all settled into the living room.

Mom was sitting on the edge of the couch to my left. She had lounged around the whole day in the same light pink sweatpants and shirt. Her face was completely bare, not like her at all. Normally mom couldn't go outside to check the mailbox without a hint of make-up. She always wore this tired look, even with her face completely made up, but somehow this one was different. It was somehow sadder than I had ever seen her display. Full of worry and anticipation at what we were about to do.

She's afraid.

And then there was me. Samantha. Sam. As fate would have it, I was sitting in the corner, in the chair that belonged with the ottoman. I had folded my legs under me and crossed my arms in front of me. I was still in my school clothes. Do I look like I am scared? Can they tell what I am thinking right now? It was cold. No one else seemed to mind.

"Okay. You two know what this is about," Dad began. "Tell your Mom and me who you want to live with. Remember, no matter who you choose, neither of us is going to get mad. You won't have to switch schools or move." He had thought about what he was going to say.

Imagine that. Dad preparing opening remarks.

The living room got eerie and quiet. The only sounds I could hear were David's fingers frantically pushing the controller buttons and Mom's heavy, rhythmic breathing.

"Your Dad is right. You'll still live in the apartment with one of us," Mom said.

Yeah. My life won't change at all. They gave Davey and me this look to make sure that we understood what was being asked of us. I immediately looked at the floor. Please do not ask me first.

"Davey, who do you want to live with?"

Thank god. I looked up at my brother. He still had his eyes glued to the TV.

"I'll go with whoever is taking the Nintendo."

"Davey you are so stupid!" I cannot believe he said that.

"Shut up!" He turned away from the game long enough to give me a dirty look.

"No. You shut up. This is serious you dummy!"

"Shut up butt hole!"

Under normal circumstances I would have leapt from my seat and planted my hand to the back of his head, but Dad cut us off.

"David, knock it off. Your sister is right. We don't have time to play around."

"David, who do you want to live with?" came Mom's weak voice.

My brother gave up glaring at me and then looked Mom right in the eye. "I wanna go with Dad." He said it so calmly. So matter-of-factly. His words came out so easily and once again I wished I were him.

Mom sucked in her breath and then held back the tears that were waiting just beneath the surface.

I could feel their eyes burn into me as they turned in my direction. I sank deeper into the chair. Everything was moving in slow motion. I didn't speak. I was waiting for Dad to ask me the real questions. Who do you really want to live with Sam? Who is going to take better care of you? Who can you trust? Who do you love more? Who? But it was Mom that spoke first.

"Sam?"

I could hear the dread in her voice. She did not want to do this and suddenly neither did I. When the night began, I could not wait for it to be over. Now I was having second thoughts. I looked up at her. "What?"

She gulped. "Who do you want to live with?"

She knows. She knows what I am going to say. I looked away. David was playing the game again. Mario was all over the television screen.

"Samantha?" This time it was Dad asking me.

I did not answer, only turned in his direction.

"Who do you want to live with?" He seemed to be anxious too.

They're scared. Maybe they really don't know what I am going to say. There was a lump forming in my throat. Fighting back the tears, I began wrenching my fingers together. I can't do this. I can't choose. I looked from one expectant face to the other. Back and forth. Forth and back, until they weren't faces anymore. They were just two mouths capable of saying only one word. Who? That was all I heard. Who, Samantha? Who? Pick me Sam. Choose me Sam. Who, Samantha, who? I felt like I was going to throw up. I just kept telling myself that this wasn't happening. This is not happening. They are not making me do this. I sat there and sat there. I concentrated on my breathing. In and out. In and out. David kept right at his game. Mom and Dad kept their seats.

Minutes went by. They asked me again if I was ready. I shook my head. No. How could I be ready to change my whole life around because you two do not want to be married anymore? But really, I had made my mind up already. I knew which one of my parents I was going to choose. I just couldn't let the words out. When it came right down to it, I was afraid. I was a coward. Weak. Like mom.

I let my eyes wander around the room. To where Davey sat on the floor, still trying to save Princess Toadstool, to where my shoes were perched on the coffee table where I had left them that afternoon. I looked at the wall behind the TV where our most recent family picture hung, looking out of place. I noticed how bare the entertainment center was, without Dad's watch, beeper, and spare change clutter. I could clearly see that things were changing already and I hadn't even said anything yet.

"Samantha? Who do you want to live with?" Mom sounded a hundred miles away. So faint, she might not have said anything.

"Sam, we need an answer from you. It's getting late." Dad was looking at his watch.

If I don't say something soon they will make the decision for me.

They were both begging me with their eyes, pleading with me to end the suspense. I could see the tears welling up and I could feel their hearts tightening in their chests.

Okay. I am going to do it.

They sensed the change in my body. Mom sat up on the couch and Dad looked away from his watch.

"Well?" Dad asked.

"Sam?" Mom whimpered.

I squeezed my eyes shut and blurted it out in one full breath. "I want to live with Dad."