'Emily' - A very short story

“Emily, please come &?have your breakfast. It’s getting late..” Susan’s crisp voice echoed along the broad hallway.

Emily readjusted his position behind the large teak wood cupboard?in the guest room on hearing the summon. He had no intention of coming out of hiding this morning. He was very upset with Susan.

Susan was not his real mom. At five years of age, Emily was old enough to know it. Susan had once told him about the day she brought him home when he was three weeks old. Emily had never known his biological parents . Even Susan had no clue about them . She had briefly tried to trace his family tree from the adoption agency papers, but had given up after a while. Actually, it didn’t matter much after all. For her, little Emily came in as a fresh breath of joy in her lonely life.

Susan and Emily lived alone at 19/2, Eastwood Avenue, a house built under the loving supervision of Susan’s late husband, Mathew. Emily knew Mathew only from the framed picture of his that hung over the fireplace. He had died in 2006, two years before Susan adopted Emily and brought him home. Mathew had a kindly face and looked very smart in his soldier’s uniform in the picture. In fact, the picture and the name below it were?the only traces of a man’s presence in the entire house.

Emily hated his name. He thought that it sounded like the name of a girl . He dreaded the day when he would be old & grown up and people would still address him by his feminine name. He was already self- conscious about the name when Susan would call out to him in front of others, especially when Lisa from next door was within earshot.

Lisa was four and a half years old, and Emily’s only playmate since they moved into the house two years back. Emily had a deep crush on Lisa, but was too shy to say that to her . Also, he suspected that Lisa secretly laughed at Emily’s girly name.

This morning, Emily was walking back home with Susan after fetching the day’s milk when he spotted Lisa at her window. Emily quickened his pace, raised his head and was busy showing off his dribbling skills with the muddy ball lying near their gate when Susan had scolded him harshly – “ Emily – how many times have I told you not to play with that dirty ball !? Now get back inside right now?and I'll have to wash you up !”.

From the corner of his eye, Emily saw Lisa observing him getting reprimanded and the thought infuriated him. “ Damn it , couldn’t she have waited to at least get indoors first instead of embarrassing me at the gate in front?of Lisa ? !”

Sulking at the humiliation, Emily ran inside and straight to the bathroom. Once Susan had washed the mud off his feet, she asked him to wait at the hall while she would go and fetch his breakfast. But Emily was in no mood for breakfast anymore. He was tired of Susan’s?constant nagging. He was tired of his feminine name. He was tired of the fact that Lisa did not consider him man enough. He was tired of the boring oatmeal porridge that Susan would feed him every day for breakfast when she herself would have scrambled eggs, bacon and toast. He was contemplating running away from home.

“Emily, where are you darling ? Where is Mamma’s big boy hiding ? Is he still mad at Mamma for washing his feet in cold water on a winter morning ? Please come out my tiger, see – I have laid out some sausages and bacon for your breakfast today. Are you still not interested ?”

“ Damn, she did it again !”, muttered Emily under his breath, pricking his ears at mention of the bacon and sausages. Susan always managed to weaken his resolve whenever he planned to leave the house and go away !

“There you are, caught you !” – Said Susan, standing at the door of the guestroom with Emily’s breakfast plate in her hands.

The lure of the fresh sausages was too much for Emily to resist.

He decided to stay back.

And walked out from his hiding place, his tongue hanging in anticipation & his tail wagging ferociously with joy.

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From my blog archives '13

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Disclaimers?-?A. Please read this post for its essence & not the particulars. I mean no disrespect towards any person, gender or community ; B. My articles, blogposts & short stories have no relation to my day job.