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 Posted: Mon Jan 03, 2005 6:57 am
 3.1.05
I swallowed the last of my milk and she slid through the tiny opening, at sixteen as small as our mother and probably not going to grow. I was five years behind, and nearly as tall as she was. Dalia had never liked that.
"Tax collection." I smirked at her, putting out my hand like I did every night. If Dal wanted to pretend to be the good girl for Mum and Da, fine, but I wasn't about to let her do it easily. That is what little sisters are for.
"Do you ever go to sleep?" she grumbled at me, giving me fifty p and stepping around me.
"Yes, I just know when to get up." I slid in front of her again. "And the toll does too."
"What?" she manged to shout in a whisper. Dal has always been very good at shouting.
"Another fifty, please. It's a pound a night, now."
"You can't do that!"
"I'm the gatekeeper. I can do whatever I want."
"If you don't quit it I'll-"
"What? You don't have anything on me that everyone in London and half of Paris doesn't already know about. I get my capers done in broad daylight, not with secrecy." I smirked, trying to imitate some of the American gangster films I'd seen. "This is blackmail sister, and there ain't a damn thing you can do about it!"
"There bloody well is you worthless little-"
I can guess about six different things Dal would have called me, but she was interrupted by Aziza screaming bloody murder as she ran to our parent's room. The two of us were up the stairs in a flash, appearing side-by-side with Dal wrapped in my robe to hide the clothes she was wearing just as our brothers Ken and Amin poked their heads out of their room. Mum came bursting out of her room a moment later to charge into ours with a crying Azzy clinging to her, while Dad was trying to get the Twins to go back to sleep. Dal, Ken, Amin, and I all glanced at each other, but none of us knew what had happened.
"Cayenne Minjonet Sarama!"
I flinched at Mum's use of my full name, as most children do when this fiendish device is brandished at them, and crept into my room.
Azzy was cowering by the doorway, and Ken quickly saw to her. Mum, on the other hand, looked more unpleased than I have ever seen her look, which is pretty impressive considering the scrapes I've gotten into. Maybe it was the small, pale owl perched on the iron footing of the bed, but it was more likely the letter she was waving angrily at me. I sauntered over and she thrust it into my hands.
"Read it so we can get this bird out of here and Azzy can get to sleep!"
Poor mum never got any rest. I hauled open the small envelope, pulling out a rather poshly papered letter.
I blinked, furrowed my brow, and read it again. After a minute or two I sat on the edge of the bed and turned on the lamp, reading it a third time. I put the letter down on the table and glanced at Amin, who had wormed his way past the gathering doorway crowd to stand near me.
"Well?" asked my very tired mum who had to be up in four hours to start baking.
"It's... it's an admissions letter. An acceptance letter. To a school called 'Hogwarts'." I think I was stunned. I must have been stunned, and so was in a state of shock and couldn't tell that I was. Am looked very worried, and he only looks like that when I'm not being myself.
"I've never heard of such a place! Let me see."
I handed the letter over numbly, Am tackling me with a hug to see if he could get me loud again.
"...witchcraft and wizardr-" Mum stopped reading and sat down on the bed too. Da came in finally, was handed the letter, read and sat. Ken followed suit, Azzy crawling into his lap when it was created. Dalia read it last, and crowed.
"Caye's moving away! Let's start you packing-"
Mum stilled her with a glance and then looked to me, smiling. She looked a lot more worn than I'd ever seen before.
"Would you like to go?"
I opened my mouth, said nothing, and closed it. I looked around at my family, smoothing my little brother's hair as he tried to hug the air out of my lungs. No. I didn't want to leave them. Yes. It sounded like so much fun!
"You can say yes, you know. We won't be hurt." Da smiled at me. I smiled at him. He was always so awkward, but every once in awhile the right thing came out of his mouth at the right time. I looked them over again, and made my decision.
"Yes."
The owl hooted once, dropped into the air, circled the room, and flew out the window. Amin pried himself out of my arms and fled, trying to hide tears. Ken went after him, leaving Azzy to me and Dal, who had the room to ourselves once we got kisses from our parents and were bid goodnight. Dalia changed into pajamas, we all climbed into bed, and my elder sister and I lay there unable to sleep, while little Aziza snored lightly.
Dal sighed happily. "All in all, I'd say tonight went extremely-"
Mum popped her head in. "Dalia, I don't know where you were out at so late to be wearing your clothes under Caye's robe, but you're grounded for two weeks of hard labor in the bakery anyway, starting in a few hours. Caye? A week of the same for being in the kitchen at midnight. Sleep well girls!" And went.
"Extremely well indeed." I finished for Dal, rolling over with a chuckle and a few hours rest before the buns had to be baked.
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Posted: Tue Jan 04, 2005 5:04 am
7.1.05My mother, the same woman who named me after a spice, which is illegal in France and may have been a spark of rebellion on her part, was getting teary as she helped me decide what to pack. Dad was standing in the doorway watching, since he knew full well he'd make a mess of things if he tried to pitch in. Younger brother Amin was hiding somewhere, not speaking to me for leaving, and older brother Kendal was looking after the smallest three, Aziza and the Twins. Dalia, my dear eldest sister Dalia, was singing as she helped me pack my bags. I love my family, but Dal and I have never really gotten along. She says I'm too crazy. She's just jealous.
I was still rather unclear about where I was going, this Hogwarts or whatever, but it was definitely to be more interesting than continuing my education at home. Being schooled up as a witch sounded like great fun, and if it wasn't at first I was sure I could find some ways to make it so. I'd enjoyed that class trip to the British Museum, hadn't I? Livening up a stuffy place like that would make my oncoming task child's play.
The major downside, besides making Amin mad at me, was the long train ride between me and the school. Bleh. There's so few things to do on a train, besides trying to guess what my cat Basim has done to what passenger by the sound of their shrieks alone. At least there would be a bed of my own at the end of it, and maybe a few more owls with eggs they migh not miss. It would be really neat to have a pet owl, mail carrying abilities aside. We dissected some owl pellets in class last year. That was fun!
"You'll have a new uniform there, Minjo, so you won't have to wear Dalia's old ones anymore." Only mum ever called me "Minjo," a shortening of my middle name. Everyone else called me "Caye," which made a bit more sense.
I grinned at my sister, who frowned back. She'd delighted in the fact that I'd had to wear her clothes to school, since I was so much bigger than she'd been at my age and they never fit right. I stuck my tongue out at her, grinning happily. What would Dal do without me, the cute little thorn in her side?
"Taking any baby toys Caye?" my sister hissed in retaliation.
I huffed and stuck my nose in the air. "Poppy and Shiny are not baby toys, they're 'items of sentimental value.' There's nothing wrong with taking them." I packed my two small dragon plushies and smiled kindly at my sister. "Maybe when you leave home to live on your own, you'll understand that."
"You little wank-" Dal started, but was interrupted by Da.
"Now girls..." he made a real effort to be stern, but he didn't have steely glare of authority to back it up. Mum did.
We smiled at our father as one, shutting up because Mum's expression said we should, and a mother of seven's facial opinons must be obeyed. We resumed packing.
When it got right down to it, there wasn't much for me to bring. I've never owned too many clothes of my own, inheriting them from Dal and Ken and then tearing them to pieces by living as I do. For personal items I had my draggies, the silver crucifix my mother gave me that was Gram's I always wear, the earrings in my ears, and the occasional battered notebook. We've never been a very materialistic family, everyone getting hand-me-downs for the most part, even Dal and Ken who get them from our parents or older cousins. Mum, being an emigrated child of immigrants, had always learned to travel light, and Da just wasn't a "things" type of person. So none of us were.
Until I'd really looked at it, I'd never felt self conscious about it before. I wasn't even bringing my bookbag - that was going to Amin to replace the last one he'd gotten from me.
"Are you all right, love?" Da was watching me, looking concerned. He was suprisingly good at noticing when people weren't feeling their best, which was impressive since he was usually so oblivious about non-numbers. Maybe that's why Mum kept him around.
Looking at the three of them in my room, packing me up and away, I nearly burst into tears. I couldn't of course, since Dalia was there and she would never let me live it down. I couldn't believe it, but I was going to miss them.
"Ya, Dad, I'm fine. Dal just smells, is all."
"I what?" she shrieked, outrage turning her face purple. Mum sighed. Da looked confused.
Yup. I'd miss them. Especially an angry Dalia.
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Posted: Sat Jan 15, 2005 11:08 am
15.1.05A new white collared shirt, black tie, flaming red sweater and brilliant blue skirt, and I had a full set of store bought, never-before-owned clothes to wear to Hogwarts. Mum even got this lovely black fabric and made Dalia sew it into a robe, which the letter specified I needed but was really too costly to buy. Dal grumbled the entire time about how someone else ought to make it, but she designs and makes her own clothes all the time, so she was the natural choice for a careful stitching job. I think the only reason why she did it right the first time was to speed up my departure from the house. I still checked all the seams for strength and a lack of prawns sewn in to make me smell, but it was a well done, un-tricky robe. This sort of thing will never happen again.
My shoes were new too, which was the most suprising thing. Dad took me shopping for them, Mum never giving herself a day off from work, and we made a day of it with Amin to help cheer him up. He wasn't happy to have to help in a project that was intended to equip me for leaving, but the shoes were found quickly enough since plain black is all I needed, and after that the three of us had hours to roam London. We saw the sights: all the places tourists go every day and the natives never visit. We rode around in the top of a double decker bus from one famous side of our city to the other, our lack of cameras the only thing seperating us from the gawking crowds of Americans that sat alongside us. Da and I stuffed Amin full of his favorite treats, and by the end of it he was laughing and running, enjoying himself more than we did. We got home late, at nearly nine, and Mum only gave us a quick chiding for keeping a little boy out so late he feel asleep on Dad's shoulder. A grand day out, which has had the added effect of getting Amin to talk to me again.
The night was quite fun too. I was planning on slipping out and seeing what was up, just for old times sake, when Dalia suprised me again by pulling me aside and saying she had a present for me. I expected something horrible, since it was a known fact she was not pleased about having to make my cloak, but instead she produced bleach and blinding blue hair dye.
"First impressions are the most important, you know." my sister said, pulling me into the washing room in the back of the bakery, with huge industrial sinks and hoses.
"People are always going on about that, but I think they're just lazy and don't want to focus on people more than once." I wasn't quite sure what she was up to, and so made a quick visual sweep to determine the relative location of all the escape routes. Two doors and a window, the window was open and closest.
"Yes, well, you always think silly things. They key to first impressions is how you look." she gestured to her own perfectly manicured self and then to my unkempt appearance. "Since you don't know how to care for your things, we need to distract people from that."
I rolled my eyes. "Stop insulting me and cut to the chase. You want to dye my hair?"
"Yes. You like blue."
"That I do. Can you do streaks?"
"Not with your hair in those braids, and you know how long it takes to do them up."
I made a face in agreement. It took Aunty Mina forever, which was unfortunate since her house smelled like diseased fish guts.
"We'll do the ends. About... four centimeters?" Dalia was already stripping off her beloved clothes and setting them aside so they wouldn't get stained with bleach or dye.
I stripped down to my panties too, pulling over a stool to sit on after taking out my earrings for safe keeping. The crucifix stayed on like always, and I watched Dal mix the bleach ingredients to make a paste to smear on the ends of my dark hair. Why did I trust her? First, Dalia believed in the necesity of proper cosmetics, and as much as I galled her she refused to have any sister of hers going around looking like a prat. I didn't really care what my clothes or hair looked like, and this drove her up the wall, so I knew she wouldn't ruin either on purpose. Dalia dyed her own hair quite a bit, livening up its dull dark brown with copper and chestnut highlights since she was thirteen. She knew how to handle this stuff. Most of all, though, I trusted her because she was trying to get me in trouble. It had been the same last year, when she'd pierced my ears in three places and gotten me my cuff and chain earrings. Mum was supposed to get mad at me, and she did, but mostly she reamed Dal for encouraging me. There was only one person I knew who could pierce my ears, and I wasn't about to waste my pocket money on something I could get done for free. I'd been raised better than that.
The bleach paste was rank, but with the window and outside door open, the smell went away pretty quickly. It took forever for the horrible stuff to burn my hair pale, but it finally did and the blue was painted on. More sitting and waiting insued.
"You'll be wearing uniforms at this 'Hogarths', won't you?" Dalia asked, producing an emory board and shaping her nails.
"Hogwarts, and yes I will." I wiggled my toes, wondering if I could use them to pick things up.
"Yes, that. What colors are they?"
I shrugged. "No idea. Black, I'd guess."
"Ah, a classic color." Dal inspected her handywork and stowed her file. Then she turned, and very unexpectedly, flashed a genuine smile at me. "I think we may miss each other."
I blinked for a moment, before recovering, and grinned back. "You are my nemesis, after all."
"As you are mine. A rare thing."
"Indeed."
"It won't be the same without you."
It was time to wash my hair. We did so, rinsing out the extra dye and then redressing to run upstairs. Amin and I thought it came out a lovely color, Ken was upset because Mum was angry, and Da just laughed. We were both grounded and set to work in the bakery in the mornings again, this time getting an equal sentence. Dal threw a fit, but I barely noticed.
My eldest sister had finally said she loved me, in her own grudging way. That would take a bit to get used to.
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Posted: Thu Feb 10, 2005 3:42 am
2.2.05In a very sweet effort to be supportive of my impending new life, Amin has been trying to teach me magic tricks. A devotee of Houdini and other great escape artists, I don't think he's teaching me what Hogwarts plans to, but that isn't to say I don't enjoy it. Most of the basic slight of hand I already know, having learned them for use in the school playground, but all of the more advanced stuff is a bit beyond me. I think I'm naturally too distractable to make a good student in this, but I do try. And my baby brother is quite the drill sergeant.
"Caye, have you been practising?" he pinned me with a disapproving glare that was making good progress to the level Mum's possessed. I shook my head.
"I do have other things to do, you know."
"Your studies are important!"
I think Am is worried for me. As much as he likes new things, he prefers to learn about them in advance and face them fully armed. He doesn't want me to step into this strange world of magic unprepared and fall prey to something awful. He forgets that I go at everything unprepared and always manage to come out on top. He'll learn as he gets older. Well, maybe not. His odd version of "studies" seems to serve him well.
Still, I am a fast enough learner when scrutinized not to have to practice on my own time too much. I have mastered a good chunk of the skills Amin has put to me, and those that I haven't all seem to require an access to straightjackets that we currently lack. There's a chance I may manage to change that, but it will take some doing. Certainly gives me ideas for my brother's next birthday, though.
As much as I enjoy spending time with Am - and if anyone were to ask me which of my siblings I got along with best I would answer with his name in a second - I wish he would stop reminding me about Hogwarts. It's not that I don't want to go, as I do, the novelty just seems to have worn off. My fickle version of misgivings and apprehensions, I suppose. As the date of my departure into a completely new and alien world grows nearer, I can't help but have a little bit of worry for what might happen. It passes quickly enough, though. In the next lesson between us, I'm showing Amin the finer points of driving Dalia up the wall.
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Posted: Thu Feb 10, 2005 7:15 am
10.2.05Basim is officially coming with me, because my kitty is a force of nature that not even mum can combat. That requires a little explanation.
My pet cat, Basim, is rather on the large and feral side of things. He is a gray tabby tomcat, born in the alley behind the bakery, and taken in by me as a kitten. He was large even then, for a mewling baby feline, and far too muscley to ever be mistaken for dainty. He is now four, in the prime of his nine lives, and rules as lord and master of all catdom in our neighborhood. This last bit is of course conjecture on my part - he may be the head of every alley in London, for all I know. His ears are a bit torn from the teeth of would-be challengers, and he has given the use of his right eye up for knowledge - although not as willingly as Odin did. The eye itself is still there, but it is a dull fishy white, unlike the calculating yellow of its twin. I love Basim, and Basim loves me, although the rest of my family isn't so sure of the purity of his intentions. Mum appreciates the cleanliness and vermin-free quality of our alley, though, and gives him fish heads and meat bones in thanks. The Smiling One, as his name translates, usually spends the greater part of his week at his own cat pursuits, but he has also been known to follow me on some of my better adventures. The last time I got stuck in Paris, for example, he managed to accompany me; I suspect at least half of the kittens born after we went home meowed with a London accent. He is a city cat, in the grandest tradition, which is why I still can't understand why he wants to go along with me to Hogwarts.
It began when he discovered my slowly-filling suitcase beneath my bed, and undid the zippers to investigate the contents. Finding nothing interesting, he hopped on to the bed where I was attempting to draw something for Dad and gave me an accusing look. Basim knows luggage is for.
I tried to explain it to him - he's smart, don't laugh - but he wasn't having any of it. There is adventure, and there is home. Adventure is what you go out on for a short period of time, and home is what you eventually returned to. Basim always came back, didn't he? And until now I always came back too. Cats are very adamant about home not being moveable.
I changed tactics: this was simply a very long adventure. I wouldn't live at school for the entire year, after all, so the going out and returning formula could still apply. Basim had once been gone nearly a month, which was equivalent, Cat-time and Human-time being different. This he agreed to, and I thought that was the end of it, until I found a catnip mouse and a green cat collar with tag in my suitcase the next day. Basim was packing too.
Both of the items were birthday presents I'd given him: the first very appreciated and the second an amusing novelty he kept hidden somewhere and occassionally fetched to drop at people's feet and prove where he lived. Like I said, Basim is a city cat, and collars hold no sway over his neck. Since the letter from the owl had said I could bring a familiar, and "cat" had been listed, I didn't see any problem in bringing him along. I was rather glad, in fact, to have at least one guaranteed companion. Mum had other ideas.
"You can't bring that tiger to a school." She said in the Tone of No Argument. I pretended not to hear.
"I need a familiar, Mum, and a cat is very traditional." Tradition was always a safe haven.
"Yes, a cat, not a demon. Basim isn't going with you."
Some books I'd dug up in the library said demons were pretty tradtional familiars for witches and wizards too, but I decided not to mention that. "Some one has to look after me."
"Some one, not some thing."
"He'll come along anyway whether we want him to or not."
Mum was silent for a bit, as I did have a point. She glanced at the offending creature, who sat on my lap washing his face with his paws rather dantily. Looking up, he blinked passively, as if waiting for a decree from her to obey. He's an excellent actor, my cat. Mum shook her head.
"Fine, he can go. But if he's too much trouble-"
"Basim will behave."
"You'll both behave."
I smiled brightly, hauling my cat into my arms and giving my mother a peck on the cheek before running outside. "Yes mum!"
We'll behave. Like ourselves.
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