“The Gazebo”

I can remember vividly the first time I moved into the house. I was 10 years old when we moved. I didn’t think much about what the impact of this change would be like. It was something last minute. I didn’t have the time to grasp what was happening until I settled in. Into the House on Mahalo Way Street.

From the outside, the house on Mahalo Way Street was an ordinary house. The front yard consisted of a small field of grass and a front porch. Inside were three bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room, an office, and a patio. What stood out the most was the back yard. Its beauty was covered and hidden behind the house. This time there was a big field of grass. Three fruit trees were towering over the house. There was a pathway that led to the pool that sparkled under the sun. However, the pool wasn’t the best part. The best part was the gazebo. Supported by wooden poles, the gazebo was surrounded with a variety of flowers and lamps. Inside was a couch with pillows and a small fire pit. I knew exactly where I was going to spend most of my time.

“Come inside and help your dad fix the lamp inside your room!” my mom shouts from inside.

I groan. I am laying on the couch inside the gazebo reading a book. Every afternoon, I would take the time to go to the gazebo and read. It is the perfect place. A place as quiet as snow with fresh air and scents of flowers. Not only am I protected from the sun, but when it gets chilly, I can rely on the fire pit. 

“Coming!” 

I scan over the last few words of the page and turn my book upside down.

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“A Lick of Lava”

Ding Dong

I hear my mom scurry over to the front door. I’m inside my room. It’s located next to the front part of the house, so I press my ear against the wall. The walls in our house are thin enough that I can hear the door creak. Then I hear a woman’s voice that is not of my mother. The voice is soft and smooth as silk. The woman and my mom start talking, but I can’t make out the words they mutter. After a few minutes, my mom shuts the door closed. I hold my breath. Silence. One. Two. Thr–.

“Trisha, come down to the kitchen. We have cake!”

I rush to the kitchen and spot a plate of cake with a scoop of icecream on top.

“It’s actually lava cake. Here, try it.” My mom offers me a spoon.

Gripping the spoon I scoop out a piece of the cake. Melted chocolate oozes out of the cake.

“Wowwww” I whisper in awe.

I lift the spoon to my mouth and take a bite. 

My eyes widen. The cake is hot and fluffy. The thick chocolate filling is rich in flavor. Overall, it is perfect.

Without a word, I take another scoop of the cake. My mom chuckles at my eagerness. 

“I’ll leave that all for you.”

Still speechless I give her a thumbs up and take another scoop of heaven.

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“The Fault”

It became a weekly habit that I went to the Vu’s house every Saturday to practice my piano. One day, I had to practice by myself because Catherine was out for a school event. I was practicing basic songs like “Jingle Bells”, “Happy Birthday” and “Mary Had a Little Lamb”. 

As my fingers flew across the piano, I accidentally knocked over a cup of water on the piano shelf. My heart dropped at the same time the water went splattering all over the keys and strings of the piano. Quickly, I scurried over to the kitchen and tore out a bunch of paper towels. Then I was hit with another problem, how was I going to clean it up. I dabbed the keys with the towel, but the water had already fallen deep into the abyss of the piano. I couldn’t clean it up. Looking around, I made sure no one had caught me. 

My fingers shook as I hovered my finger over a key of the piano. 

Please still work please still work. 

I pushed my finger down. 

And was met with silence. 

The beckoning silence was so loud that my heart stopped. I pushed another key…nothing. Then I came to realize that I had broken the piano. 

And the worst part was that it wasn’t even mine. 

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“Mike the Goldfish”

My first pet was a fish. A goldfish that lived in a glass bowl. Me and my siblings named him Mike. A simple name for a simple fish. 

But nothing about Mike was simple. Mike changed colors so often that visitors always questioned if we got a new fish. Mike could change from bright yellow to pitch black. We have a list of 58 colors so far. Mike would eat double the food an average fish ate. Mike had breakfast, brunch, lunch, linner, and dinner. Despite all this food, he would swim around and splash so much that we had to upgrade to a tank filled with colorful corals and rocks the fish could play with. Our goldfish lasted for a month. We found a black fish lying helplessly on the bottom of the tank. Someone forgot to feed him one day, and with a big appetite, Mike died. 

Maybe you could get a cat or dog they would suggest. But we couldn’t because we were allergic to them. And my parents were not fond of “exotic pets” like a lizard, turtle, or snake.

So to this day, Mike was the only pet we ever owned.

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“Gallops of Freedom”

I clicked my helmet in place and carried my iron horse outside. My siblings were already flying around the neighborhood. Excitedly, I joined them. I pedaled and pedaled. The wind danced around me. I felt free. Biking was a way for me to gallop, to move past my worries. Breaking a sweat despite the cold, I zoomed through the neighborhood. Laughters filled the air and I made a U-turn. As I approached my house, I slowed down this time and noticed how different the house looked like. The walls were no longer tiny. Instead, they stood tall and stared back at me. The roof that was fabricated with roof shingles watched over us. The blades of grass danced with the wind. I saw the house in a new light. I biked on and U-turned. Again, I slowed down when I approached the house. It looked different. I continued this process and noticed something new each time. I smiled, my heart beating like hooves trotting. As I approached the house, I slowed down…

And stopped. 

At the House on Mahalo Way Street.

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