I FELT MY entire body snap rigid, I could feel the strands of hair stand at the back of my neck, as though an electric shockwave coursed through my entire body, the color on my face leaving it, my features rested on the flustered nerves swirling down my spine like thin cold spiders trailing down. My gaze averted at the wrinkled straight hand concealed in a white shirt striped with teal blues. My eyes met his.

  "You look like you've just seen Argus Panoptes." Albert said, with lowered deep brown eyes seated with mirth in them, his thin lips clicked upward into a tiny smile.

  Instantly, I remembered the hundred eyed giant, he used to read to me during bedtime. It was way too much for a kid but I didn't want anything but spooky stories, it was one of my favorites but instantaneously also my least favourite.

  He took a wide range of the knob, prompting me to let go, which I complied like a reflex, subconsciously choosing to obey in the next second, he chose to close the door now fully, and shifted himself between me and the door, he sharpened his gaze at me, Albert was old now and the glow in his once lucent eyes had deteriorated when I recollected how much of a justified man he was but I didn't once doubt his capability to get things done like a man in his prime. I stepped back, staring at his decent height of six foot four.

  "You don't want to be found in there." He grimly said glancing behind to the door, I narrowed my gaze at him, squaring my jaw.

  "Why?" I asked, I felt a pinch begin to develop between my thick brows.

  "Mr. Westlake-your father made it to me that I made sure no one went in there. No one should go in there. This room is to be locked at all times." It sounded like an indirect warning, a frown cutting on his supple, his cheeks were deflated so they hardly moved, the aging wrinkles had dispersed on his features like glided sun rays on a blue sky.

  "Why?" I asked, curiosity touching every corner of my face.

  "I'm just following orders, I didn't question your father, let us not make history repeat itself." He advised now winking at me.

  Right. The childhood idiotic times of trouble making. Fine, if it was with that amount of willing staid I'd opted to follow, I briefly nodded, then began to stroll away.

  I found it strange of how Albert said locked at all times, and it was open, I was sure even before I got there, someone was already in there, I could hear that someone was in there. My thoughts were on the very person who forbid anyone to go in was the same person in there. I assumed Dad had been there right before he left.

  What was Dad keeping there or hidding in there? That no one was to enter. . . . Now, that our house was constantly changing, it gave me more reasons to wonder why were we back here? Dad deciding to revert or perhaps deciding on living here again making me start a life here too, that I didn't understand.

  I thought of the forbidden room, Dad had still probably kept Mom's things in there. And he didn't want anyone touching anything so he forbid anyone in there was the only reasonable excuse. I wondered why I wasn't an exception. Or why the room fell silent when he heard someone coming, it was his house, why was he acting suspicious. Thinking about the room got me started but I had to put it aside and focus on bigger things. Like getting a head start of preparation on my enrollment.

  Before, nine in the morning, Dad told Albert to make sure I'd come down for breakfast and have it with him. He said we'd be having our meals together for as long as he was around, with knowing Dad this wasn't anything I could just disallow, it was opposed to me to follow, . All this seemed more suspicious to me. Now we'd be having our meals together? From moving back to our old house in Hevellyn Hills to eating together and playing the happy father and son. What was all of this? Some fantasized plot to catch up on his somewhat questionable parenting? Sounded like bullshit to me. I thought we had passed all that, I was way passed all of it.

  As I sat by his left side again, I stared impassively at my plate, my fork poking the edge of my waffles. All this new behavior was unnecessarily ridiculous, I was too old to give in and play house. I preferred my old eating hours not his.

  "Junior?" He called for the second time, I didn't hear him the first time.

  "Yes?" I answered, thinking we weren't going to have some quiet thoughts~only~allowed breakfast.

  "Nervous?" he asked, raising his dark brows.

  I knew he was referring to school, and by this time he thought I was over the whole ruffling conversation and I was already adjusting, I relatively lifted my gaze, about to disagree with my head.

  "Everyone gets nervous on their first day, it's a normal thing, nothing to be shy about.'' As usual he preferred to answer himself, which I always found annoying.

  "I'm not nervous." I bluntly said.

  I actually saw a jar of realization whip his face, he's brows narrowed to his eyes, as he stroke a forefinger comparatively at the edge of his left side, streaking into the puzzling side than the understanding, he shifted his weight back at his seat then heaved out a sigh of exhaustion.

  "Then tell me. . . I'm told you've been skipping your meals and- and staying in your room. .'' If he was concerned he did a tremendous job at hiding it.

  And he assumed it was the first day issue bothering me. '' he was being kind, I knew I had been probably acting like I was chained to the goddamn room since we got here, it beat being around a place I didn't want to stay in, and honestly I liked it better there. Besides, it was the same old story of , nothing had changed, live here for like what? Four- six months. . . Then it was all over, what changed for me to act different, well, our routine did feel slightly altered, having breakfast together and attending a high school had been introduced, and that never happens. And on school matters I'd trivialized the thoughts of school. It did bother me just not in a jittery way.

  "Just been getting ready for school. . . And. . ." I trialed off, staring at my fork, blankly.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  I could feel his eyes on me. He was trying to study my face. Advance to the actual reason and read my mind and know what to say next, he sure did that often But I hardly think he understood me. He sighed irked again, forgoing the idea. His finger tapped the table agitatedly.

  "Diane, will go with you tomorrow, she'll get you everything you'll need. She'll enroll you and Cosmon will drive you back home." He explained.

  An image of Cosmon sliced into my mind, recollecting my first encounter with him; he's piercing cold eyes, I'd see him Everyday. I thought Dad had made things worse, from moving here to enrolling into school to Cosmon, he just couldn't make things any more worser. He glanced at his watch.

  "I have a meeting with franklyn in the next half hour. . ." He said.

  After he left I dropped my fork and stared at my food. I hadn't had anything but water for the past two days, surprisingly I wasn't even a twitch bit hungry. I circled my finger around my empty glass. I didn't want a bite out of anything in front of me. I felt my appetite leave me after every ruffled conversation I had with him. It felt like he consumed my starvation. As I looked at my glass, water slowly started to fill it from above. My gaze cut skyward.

  "I remember, a little boy who'd sit by this table and not nearly half a minute, his face would be all messy with all his features looking like they had a bite out of everything, his plump cheeks swollen from all he could take in." Albert told, holding a jar and directly staring at me. "He ate everything with cheese, he wouldn't eat anything without it. I wondered if it was the Chef cheesecake tale or if he really just liked the taste."

  He pushed my plate at the side with a New one, it actually had an old favorite of mine, melted cheese tucked in wafffles, encircled with whipped cream and berries around them, with the freshly cooked scent soaring it's way into my nostrils. I could feel my hollow stomach turn, my mouth begin to water and starvation lunge a full blow in my empty stomach, I hadn't had these in. . . Forever. My new diet barely included cheese. I poked my fork in my cheese waffles and took a bite, I couldn't stop the half smile that tickled my lips, he made it all come back. The taste. The love I had for them. The lovely memories.

  "Mom used to make me these. ." I found myself saying, my voice was low but it had been infused with mirth and fine nostalgia. " I'd say these were my favorites compared to anything she ever cooked but she didn't cook, these were the only things she ever made me. . ." I felt a scoff hold back in my throat.

  "Ahh. Your father was the real cook. He's the one who got up early every morning to cook for you three. And I remember your mother more than once, tranquilly watching him, having the biggest smile on and she'd say-"

  "Not everyone was born with magic hands like yours." I interrupted him, absentmindedly, reciting Mom's words, which made both of us non~committedly chuckle.

  I fell back, rolling my shoulders, taking a moment of respite, swirling around my gaze on my plate, pondering. Imagining. Collecting. It made me feel, like the memory was within my reach, as if I could just make a correct turn and it would be mine again; those blurry faces and motions, vibrations of soft hums of voices and sweet laughter, faint rearrangements of characters, aromas indefinitely floating in the air, manipulating time got in the way and it plummeted to me like a graying cloud matured enough to commence raining.

  Just like the old memory's lost. Like it was just a maple blurry flash of a chance to go back. Dad behaved like it was all gone. As if as it were never there. As though, a selective forgotten part. But it's all just pretence, he was evidently dying inside, his demeanor failed to hide that he had become a different man without her, it was all a facade but I saw right through it. I don't think I'd ever seen Dad laugh like that or more, as happy as that. He smiles and laughs here and there just not the same, nothing's the same with him. He had become, too folded, fractured and keened on being this stoic, candor, at relative times, volatile character. Something, about this subject drew me back to Dad and yesterday.

  "Do you think he misses her?" I asked, not even thinking of what was escaping my mouth. I had never asked Dad neither had I ever discussed anything related to our family with anyone, what made me start now. A plot.

  "Why do you ask?'' Albert asked instead obviously appalled.

  ''Mom's painting room, yesterday the door was open, and you said the door was to be locked at all times- but it was open?'' I questioned rethinking my words.

  ''They was no one in that room. .'' Albert said emphatically shielding the calm aspect on his tongue.

  ''But I heard a voice-''

  ''Voice?'' He interrupted me.

  I chewed as I thought of how Albert was acting. Answering my questions with questions, professing this air of unawareness, too strange. I felt the air flare through my nostrils, examining the nuance on his face, he had a straight face on, confirming the ounce of being detached to tell what it was he was thinking or hiding. Hard to tell if he was lying, but I knew he was hiding something, with that pretext. He now merely exhibited a watery smile.

  ''I assure you no one was in there.'' He firmly admitted. ''I was helping put some new flowers with Rebecca, right before checking on you, I'll go see if she's done.''

  Not Albert leaving to avoid any more questions, he still didn't answer my question on why the room was opened. If it was to be locked at all times, why was it open? Odd. I found it, Albert covering for Dad, what for? Why was Albert covering up for Dad, when Dad could walk in and out of there without anyone saying anything? Unless, he wasn't covering up for him but somebody else. I wondered if I was perhaps overthinking things maybe Albert wasn't hiding anything and he was just merely doing his job in keeping everything orderly and avoiding any set backs, my other side seemed to put it in that way. But I couldn't shake away that it had to be something else, something about Albert's face spelt he was hiding something.

  I thought about it more at night, as I boredly gazed at my white ceiling that black dot, on it, seemed to somehow give me imagination to come up with anything; the stars were my first, second was a single fresh rose in a thorn bush in a dried up garden, my most recent was me at school tomorrow. I don't remember thinking of anything else, the next time I opened my eyes was because my alarm clock wouldn't stop ringing and ringing. It was as early as six, I usually got up two to three hours later but because of Dad's new eating schedule, make that two hours later. Before snoozing it for the third time, I got up to get ready, I was downstairs within forty five minutes.

  I sat down for breakfast, Dad wasn't there, he was getting up an hour later, I'd obviously be gone by then I supposed he knew that. But for some reason, I wanted to see him before I went off on my first Day of school, I know I was too old for that. But it wouldn't kill him to spare a minute, would it now?

  I looked at my options and I wish I could say I wasn't surprised when I noticed that most of the meals had cheese or had something to do with cheese.

  I held the coffee mug beside my plate, It had on the front '. I instantly smiled reading that, acknowledging it had been Mom's old favorite mug, her older sister had got her, after breaking half of Mom's anniversary special tea~ set gift from Dad, I can't place memory of her happy sky blue eyes being angry but I do remember her smiling. I took a plate of cheese sandwiches.

  figured all this was Albert's doing. It was thoughtful of Albert to give a tip to the chef on what I preferred instead and the mug, Albert was good. Just as I thought, Albert walked in.

  "Good morning. . .'' He greeted.

  ''Morning. . . Albert ''

  He looked at his watch, ''Ready to go to school? The car's ready. As soon as you're done here, you may join Ms. Lauren. .''

  ''Thanks, and Albert thanks again for mentioning to the chef. . .''

  He nodded, ''Just doing my job and looking out for you. .''

  Something about Albert always surprised me, was it that he always looked so tranquil and did things briskly, or was it how he remained positive even after everything. He was a phlegmatic, kind man and Dad trusted him, not just with the house but with me, and Dad didn't just trust anybody, Albert was different in a way, I never questioned.