Family Portrait - Chapter 2

News Report

Mara was a good worker. She loved her new job and made friends quickly. There was Lily McGregor a redheaded, freckle-faced romantic, fun-loving girl, Maryanne Johnson a mixed girl also from Philadelphia, and. There was also Jacob Carter the busboy, a lively spirited young man. Toby’s sixteen-year-old sister, Jennifer, who came frequently for lunch, had a crush on him.

And there were those who weren’t really friends, like stuck-up Sarah Collins and her snob-for-a-friend Alice Simmons.

At first no one but the busboy really noticed Mara. She was kind of plain, she knew, so she wasn’t surprised.

“You new here?” Jacob asked one morning.

“Yeah.” Mara replied.

“What’s your name?”

Mara pointed to her nametag. “Mara. What’s yours?”

“Jacob but everyone calls me Jake. I’m the busboy.”

“Oh. I’m the new hostess. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you. Mara, huh? Your last name Jade?”

Mara chuckled. He was referring to Mara Jade from the Star Wars universe.

“No. It’s Clark.”

“Mara Clark. That’s nice.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Later.”

“Later.”

“Isn’t he cute?” It was Lily. “Well? Isn’t he?”

“Yeah. But I’ve got my eye on someone else.”

“Oh?”

“Jennifer’s brother Toby.”

“Ooh, I envy you.”

“I know you do.”

Lily laughed. “Come on let’s get to work.”

Mara took her position at the hostess’ table and greeted the first customers of the day with a radiant smile.



It happened that evening, when Mara, Jennifer, and Terry were all sitting around in the living room watching the local news.

“In breaking,” the news reporter said, “Police have identified the serial bomber as Timothy Clark.” They flashed a picture of the man. “Police officials are still looking for clues to where he might be hiding.”

Mara began to shiver inside herself. Her palms got sweaty and her heart started to palpitate violently. She swallowed. Timothy Clark was her father! Did her brother know? Did her aunt know?”

“Excuse me,” she said. This can’t be happening, Mara thought as she went to her room and got her coat. “I’m going out,” Mara said as she went out the front door.


Mara knocked firmly at the white oak door.

A little boy answered the door. Mara recognized him immediately. It was Kyle, her ten-year-old little brother.

“Is your Aunt Callie home?”

“Yeah.”

“May I see her.”

Kyle shrugged. “Sure.”

Mara stepped in. She hung up her leather jacket in the closet in the hallway then turned to look at the cream colored living room. The first thing she noticed was the rug spread out in the middle the floor. It was a scene of a buck deer standing beside a tree. At his feet was a brown rabbit and behind the buck’s long slender brown legs was a short green bush. In the distance there were green hills and white-capped mountains.

Mara went and sat down on the beige couch.

“Aunt Callie!” Kyle shouted, almost at the top of his voice.

A faint, “Yes? What is it, Kyle?” came from the bedroom.

“There’s some lady here who wants to see you.”

It’s a wonder that living with Aunt Callie didn’t teach the boy tact, Mara thought.

A full minute passed before Aunt Callie appeared. She was a tall, slender, woman about five feet six. She had dark brown skin and brown hair that she kept cut short.

“Mara!” she exclaimed. “Oh you’ve grown so much!”

“Hi Aunt Callie.”

“How’ve you been?

At that moment all the memories came flooding back, of how often and how many times Callie had tried to reach out to Mara, to help her, and how often, in her anger, Mara had cut her off. She regretted that now.

They hugged.

“I’ve been fine, Aunt Callie.”

Kyle started to slink from the room. Callie noticed and called him back.

“Kyle,” she said, “This is your sister, Mara.”

Kyle peered up at Mara and she smiled. “You’ve grown since I saw you last. You were only two then.”

Kyle looked slightly perplexed.

“You don’t remember me, do you, Kyle?”

Kyle shook his head. “No.”

Mara frowned and nodded.

Mara looked at the floor. “I wanted to talk to you about my father.”

Callie sighed. She sat down on the couch. Mara did the same.

“Kyle,” Callie said. “Excuse us.”

Kyle started to walk away.

“Wait!” Mara said. “Stay. You have the right to know too. If that’s all right with you, Aunt Callie.”

Callie sighed again. “All right. Sit down, Kyle.”

The boy obeyed.

Callie took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry for all of this, Mara. All the pain he’s caused you.”

“It’s all right, Aunt Callie. I’m gonna need your help with this, though. Do you know where he lives?”

Callie shook her head. “No. He’s too good at covering his tracks. I haven’t seen him since your mother died.”

Mara frowned.

“What’s going on?” Kyle asked.

“Dad’s a serial bomber, Kyle,” Mara said bluntly

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“What are you going to do, Mara?” the boy asked innocently.

“I don’t…”

The phone rang. Callie answered it. “Excuse me, Mara.” Callie went in the other room with the cordless phone.
Mara sat quietly, waiting. She looked at Kyle, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Kyle. Of course I could always just visit him. But who knows what he’ll do? I don’t if know he’s armed. I don’t even know if he still loves us, if he even cares.”

Shortly, Callie returned. “Where were we?”

“What do I do, Aunt Callie?”

Callie sighed. “I really don’t know, Mara.”

Mara nodded. “It’s okay, Aunt Callie.”

Mara smiled. She glanced down at the floor. “Nice rug.”

Callie looked up. “You like that?”

“Yeah. It’s pretty with the mountains and all. It looks peaceful. Makes me wish I was there.”

“I bought that a few months ago.”

“She spent weeks looking for the right one,” Kyle chimed in, rolling his eyes.

To their relief, Mara and Callie both chuckled.

“I’ll see you both later.”

“Wait,” Callie said. “Where are you staying?”

“I rented a room.”

“Well, why don’t you stay here?”

Mara wanted to stay, she really did, but her independent streak was screaming,
“No! You want to be on your own!”

Mara sighed. “No thanks, Aunt Callie.”

Callie sighed. “All right then. Be careful.”

Mara smiled, got her jacket and left.


You’re crazy Mara, she thought to herself. Your father’s a criminal. He blows things up. Mara wished she had let her aunt drive her home. They would be talking and, perhaps, laughing about something, and Mara wouldn’t have to be left alone with these reflections of her life. She felt sad and angry and frightened at the same time. The whole ordeal was making her sick to her stomach.