Trevor comes home from school and his mom shows him a new surprise behind the TV - a small kitten. The kitten was hiding in a nook behind the TV shelves. His mom had gotten the kitten early as a birthday present for Trevor, whose birthday was still 11 days away. They decided to name the kitten Zoey. Trevor was excited about his new pet and looked forward to Zoey getting more comfortable with them over time.
The Voice From the Wall(Taken From The Joy Luck Club)by Amy Ta.docxssusera34210
The Voice From the Wall
(Taken From The Joy Luck Club)
by Amy Tan
When I was little, my mother told me my great-grandfather had sentenced a beggar to die in the worst possible way, and that later the dead man came back and killed my great-grandfather. Either that, or he died of influenza one week later.
I used to play out the beggar’s last moments over and over again in my head. In my mind, I saw the executioner strip off the man’s shirt and lead him into the open yard. “This traitor,” read the executioner, “is sentenced to die the death of a thousand cuts.” But before he could even raise the sharp sword to whittle his life away, they found the beggar’s mind had already broken into a thousand pieces. A few days later, my great-grandfather looked up from his books and saw this same man looking like a smashed vase hastily put back together. “As the sword was cutting me down,” said the ghost, “I thought this was the worst I would ever have to endure. But I was wrong. The worst is on the other side.” And the dead man embraced my great-grandfather with the jagged pieces of his arm and pulled him through the wall, to show him what he meant.
I once asked my mother how he really died. She said, “In bed, very quickly, after being sick for only two days.”
“No, no, I mean the other man. How was he killed? Did they slice off his skin first? Did they use a cleaver to chop up his bones? Did he scream and feel all one thousand cuts?”
“Annh! Why do you Americans have only these morbid thoughts in your mind?” cried my mother in Chinese. “That man has been dead for almost seventy years. What does it matter how he died?”
I always thought it mattered, to know what is the worst possible thing that can happen to you, to know how you can avoid, to not be drawn by the magic of the unspeakable. Because, even as a young child, I could sense the unspoken terrors that surrounded our house, the ones that chased my mother until she hid in a secret dark corner of her mind. And they still found her. I watched, over the years, as they devoured her, piece by piece, until she disappeared and became a ghost.
As I remember it, the dark side of my mother sprang from the basement of our old house in Oakland. I was five and my mother tried to hide it from me. She barricaded the door with a wooden chair, secured it with a chain and two types of key locks. And it became so mysterious that I spent all my energies unravelling this door, untilt he day I was finally able to pry it open with my small fingers, only to immediately fall headlong into the dark chasm. And it was only after I stopped screaming – I had seen the blood of my nose on my mother’s shoulder – only then did my mother tell me about the bad man who lived in the basement and why I should never open the door again. He had lived there for thousands of years, she said, and was so evil and hungry that had my mother not rescued me so quickly, this bad man would have planted five babies in me and then eaten us all ...
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1. Getting Zoey
By Trevor Hendy
4th hour
I'm home! I shouted, slamming the door behind me. I glanced around the
kitchen. It felt chilly, even though I could hear the heating on.
"Hi, Trev," my mom said, coming around the corner. She had brown hair, blue
eyes, and was wearing a black, woolen sweater which most likely had multiple
layers underneath. My mom is ALWAYS cold.
"Come with me. I want to show you something," she said. I set my backpack
down by the door and followed her through the wood-floored kitchen to the
carpeted family room. We walked around the couches to the TV, which was
sitting on a stand that was made for it.
Mom knelt down in front of it. I did the same. I looked at the blackish-gray
screen, wondering what we were doing.
"Go over to the side by the cupboard and look through the gap," Mom told me.
I did as I was told.
Our TV has two large, wooden cupboards on both sides which connect over
the top with shelves. Altogether, it makes a big frame for the TV, with the metal
stand as the bottom.
I peeked through the narrow gap between a cupboard and the wall, trying to
see through to behind the TV. It was dark in the gap, and all I could see was a
tangled mess of wires.
Then, something caught my eye. There was something moving behind the TV!
"There's something back there!" I said to my mom, beginning to panic.
She ignored me, and was saying "come on out" to something in a sweet voice.
The stand had shelves in it, and the shelves didn't have backs. There were books
neatly stacked on the shelves, but the shelves didn't have backs so something
might be able to go around the side and into a little corner. I wondered what
could possibly be back there. I didn't have to wait long to find out.
2. Suddenly, a small, furry, and cute head with green eyes and pointy ears poked
its way around the side of the shelves from a small, cozy nook - a great hiding
place for a small creature.
"A cat!" I exclaimed, the panic in my voice changing to excitement.
"Yep," Mom said. "She's your birthday present."
"But it's only January 24th," I said. "My birthday isn't for eleven more days!"
"She's your early birthday present," she replied, but I had lost interest. My new
cat had crawled over and was sniffing me all over, checking me out. I stroked her
soft fur, which was a mix of brownish colors. She purred happily. Then, she licked
the hand I was petting her with with a rough, scratchy tongue. I smiled. She
seemed to like me.
"What's her name?" I asked.
"Snowie, but she doesn't look like snow," was the reply.
"Yeah. Pretty dirty snow," I said. So we decided on Zoey. It rhymed, so she
wouldn't be as confused at first, even though Mom said she wouldn't care. I
thought it suited her anyway.
We petted Zoey for a few more minutes. Then, she got up and headed back to
the safety of her nook.
"She's still getting used to us," Mom said. " She's pretty shy." I could see that,
but she was only six months old. I liked her anyway, and I was pretty sure she
liked me, too.
And that is how I got a cat.
