Circle of Gold

Mattie curled herself into the warm a center of the bed and listened for the early morning sounds of her mother and twin brother-kitchen sounds and bathroom sounds. But the apartment was silent. On the count of three, she told herself, she would get.

          One…. One  and a half … two …. Two and half … three …. Mattie threw back the covers and jumped out of bed. When her feet touched the cold, smooth wooden floor she caught her breath and raced out of the bedroom.

A quick cheek of the apartment told her that Mama wasn’t there. Mattie stopped to pick up the newspapers scattered on the living room rug. Since Daddy had died, Mama had lost all interest in keeping the place neat.  Walking down the narrow hallway again, Mattie paused by her mother’s room. The empty bed with its wrinkled white sheets and tossed pillows looked like a stormy sea.

Continuing down the hall. Mattie peeked into her brother’s room. She could just see the top of Matt’s curly head poking above the covers. His drawing pad was on the bed and the easel he used for his painting stood against the window, draped with a sheet. The jars of water he used to wash his paintbrushes were lined up like colorful sentries aling the windowsill.

In the kitchen, Mattie found  a note propped against the sugar bowl on the table. Kids, Went to working early. Will be home late. Get dinner and do your homework.

Mattie frowned. Mamahad to work late again. This was the fourth time in the past two weeks. How could Mama do the superintendent chores and work overtime at the factory too? Eventually Mrs. Rausch, the Manager of their building, was going to find out that things were falling apart at 6129 Julian Street. Mrs. Adams was complaining about her dripping kitchen faucet. The Reynolds’s radiators didn’t work, and old Mr. Richards wanted a new stove. If word got to Rausch, Mama would be in trouble. Rausch the Rat was what Mattie called the real estate agent, but not so anyone could hear.

Mattie poured oatmeal into a pot of boiling water and stirred it furiously. She forced back the tears that came when she remembered how things used to be when Daddy was alive. He would have fixed the faucet and the radiators and ordered a new stove for Mr. Richards.

“And he would kiss me and call me his princess,” Mattie murmured. Mama never did that. Mattie ached for her father. She was only eleven and it didn’t seem fair that she would never see him again. Daddy had gone to work as usual one day six months ago, and on his way home some drunk driver had hit his car and killed him. From that day everything in her life had changed.

Mattie turned the stove down to simmer and called out to her brother. “Get yourself up. Matt Matisse. I’ve got the cereal cooking.”

Matt hated oatmeal, but she couldn’t stand his favorite either-Malt-o-Meal. He wouldn’t be happy about the oatmeal but they had agreed that the first one up got to choose breakfast.

Mattie poured the oatmeal into two bright yellow bowls and was already eating when Matt took his place at the table. He groaned when he saw the oatmeal, but that was the only greeting he gave Mattie.

The twins ate silently, cleaned the kitchen, and left for school. Matt didn’t even seem to notice the bright sunshine and cotton candy clouds that promised a glorious April day. Mattie hummed to herself as she waited for her brother to speak. When he did, the words fairly exploded of him.

“Darn it. Mattie. Oatmeal again and I didn’t have a clean shirt and I didn’t have a chance to tell Mama that the Reynolds stopped by again yesterday afternoon about their radiators. They want them fixed now,” he stormed. Matt was as thin and copper-colored as Mattie, and he had the same large dark eyes.

“look, Matt, I’ll do the wash tonight. Did you tell Mr. Reynolds that Mama put in their request?”

“No, because I don’t think Mama did put it in, Mattie. Things are getting worse all the time.” Matt kicked at the pavement in frustration.

“not worse, just the same, “ Mattie sighed. She watched her brother, knowing there was more.

“Mama won’t eat,” he continued. “She hardly sleeps. The house is a mess except for the times you clean it. I never know whether she’s going to cry or smile or yell. We never laugh anymore, Mattie. We never have any fun. You call this a family?” his brown eyes challenged her.

Maybe it was because they were twins and twins were special, Mattie knew. But they understood one another and fiercely protected one another. Mattie wanted to say something now to comfort her brother, but before she had a chance, her best friend, Toni Douglas, called to them from the corner by her apartment building Mattie eyed her twin and they silently agreed to erase their faces. She and Matt had always been able to communicate without using words.

“Hey girl, ready for the math test!” Toni shouted as she waited for them to catch up. She was a bouncy, cheerful girl with bright black eyes and thick black hair that she wore in braids. A fire-engine red beret was perched on the side of her head.

“Well, are you ready?” she repeated, not event noticing when Matt barely mumbled good bye and walked on. “I did my homework but I just know I’m going to fail. You know what, Miss Mattie Mae Benson? I’m just too young to understand fractions.”

Mattie didn’t answer. She pulled her thick navy sweater around her shoulders and watched matt walk away. Her thin brown face would have been unremarkable except for her eyes. Intelligence and caution existed together