“The time has come, mi amore. We must part here, Goodbye!”

Frank and Samantha sat, mesmerized by the emotional teen soap opera playing on the tiny television set. It was around 11:45 p.m. at night, and they were going to have dinner soon. It may have been very late to anybody else, but their mother had only gotten back from work a few hours earlier, and had started up dinner around 11:00.
Life really was burdensome for the three of them, ever since their father left them. None of them really knew much about him, even their mom, Kate. Her husband always wanted to keep his family background and identity a big secret. Nevertheless, Kate had always adored him. Until the moment he left. They tried not to think about it
too much, but her mind seemed to keep coming back to him, like bees to flowers. Samantha and Frank were home alone almost ALL day after school, as their mom worked 3 jobs, the very last one as a cleaner in a hospital, just to make ends meet.

They never really enjoyed the luxuries of an easy life, honestly. But they managed to squeeze the tiny bits of delight out of each and every thing in the world. Or at least THEIR world. But as they watched TV that dark, stormy night, the doorbell rang. Loud, sharp and clear it chimed, through the flashing thunder claps in the sky.
Samantha and Frank immediately started wrestling to open the door, but in the end, Frank pushed Samantha to the ground and bolted off. Samantha caught up with him, to see a strange man, who looked unusually dry, even though rain was pouring in buckets from the sky. He smiled awkwardly at them, and took off his large, black top
hat. Frank backed away to get next to Samantha, and whispered in her ear – “Who even wears those old Victorian top hats anymore?”

Samantha decided not to reply to her brother’s judgmental comment (although she’d been thinking the same thing), as her mom had suddenly appeared in the hallway.

“Darlings, who is it- When she saw their unfamiliar (or so they thought) visitor, the wooden spatula in her
hand went crashing to the ground, splattering Tomatina sauce everywhere.

“J-Jacob? Why are you h-here?”.

The man gave her a solemn look. “Forgive me for the shock, ma’am.”, he spoke in a deep voice. “I am not your precious husband, but his closest friend, sidekick, trusted helper, and brother.

At this, their mom seemed to be even more horrified! She clutched her children’s’ shoulders tightly, pulling them back closer to her.

Their ‘uncle’ seemed to be quite alarmed at this. Oh, no no! Don’t worry I mean no harm!! Really!”

“Prove it! Prove that you really are Jacob’s brother!

At this, the man took out his purse without a word. “Here, this is your husband, right?”

Mom snatched it from him and traced the photograph with her eyes. It contained a picture of two young boys, looking almost identical… and yes, they both bore striking resemblance to Jacob and this mysterious guest.

Mom’s shoulders relaxed very slightly as she loosened her grip on the children and placed the photograph on the counter.

“Well you truly are his brother. In that case, why don’t you join us for dinner?

As mom was preparing for dinner, simultaneously keeping an eye on their guest, she suddenly called in Samantha and Frank to help.

“You two… come here a sec…”

“Yes mother?”

Their mother pulled them aside and said – “Darlings, please be careful of that man.. I am aware of who he is, for he is perhaps the only thing you’re dad ever told me about when it came to his side of the family. He really is your uncle. But…”

“But what mom?”

Their mom frowned. “The one thing I know about Jacob- your dad’s family is that he had a younger brother, who was his best friend. Apparently they did everything together. But one day, Jacob ran to my parents’ house crying. This was way before we were married – I’d never seen him that hysterical before. He said…”

“What did he say, mom?” pushed Frank. Samantha gave him a look.

“H-he said that his little brother – the light of his life – had somehow gotten stuck to a fishnet at the bottom of the lake while swimming. He didn’t make it – he had drowned.”

“You mean-“

Their mother stared at them with a grim, serious expression on her face. She looked like she was about to cry. But she gathered herself, and said in a troubled tone –

“Yes, that’s right…. The man sitting at our dining table right now – is no longer alive. In fact, he died several years ago…”

–Srinika Mukherjee, a ninth-grade student, is a budding author with two published books and a fervent passion for music.