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LEFTOVER STEW by Patrick Barnes 1 Jason Brennan knew exactly what was for dinner the second he opened the large wooden front door to his two story tract house at 4:23 that early October evening. 2 He had walked just a mile and a half from his high school (where he bore the dreaded title of Freshman) and was trying to figure out how to break some very bad news to his parents the whole way. As he trudged up the familiar sidewalk path that was his daily journey home, he noticed that the asphalt streets and concrete sidewalks had been repaved with red and orange leaves. They were blanketing the earth, as they always did this time of year, laying forth a plush carpet of crimson and gold. He was thinking how beautiful it all looked and how beautiful the world was, and how trivial the failed Biology test was in the whole scheme of the world, and how someday he would probably laugh at this whole thing- AND HOW HIS FATHER WOULD REACT WHEN HE TOLD HIM THAT HE HAD FAILED A BIOLOGY EXAM THEY HAD BOTH STUDIED FOR TOGETHER FOR OVER A MONTH. When he turned the corner onto his street, he saw that his father was not yet home from work because the green Volvo station wagon wasn't parked outside in the driveway. He was relieved but he knew that he was just delaying the inevitable. Besides, his mom would be home. Jason looked beyond his house to the neighbors'. There were two young children, a boy and a girl, jumping and playing wildly in a giant pile of raked leaves. They were giggling hysterically, and Jason realized that the girl was his sister, Jenny. Jenny, the girl he always picked on, teased and made fun of. As he looked at her, innocently throwing leaves, a giant smile across her young, smooth face, he thought of how much he loved his little sister, and how he really would do anything for her. Jason had reached his driveway now, and Jenny's head poked up from out of the pile, fragments of leaves in her tangled brown hair. "Hi, Jason!" she called out. "Hi, Jason!" her young friend echoed. Jason smiled and waved to both of them, but they had already returned to frolicking in their autumn fortress. He trudged up the three brick steps that led to the front door and watched himself put one foot in front of the other. He checked to see if the door was unlocked and indeed it was. As he pushed it open slowly, so as to not call attention to himself, two of his senses were instantly greeted at the door like some terrible welcoming commitee. First, his nose caught the odor of something that only took his brain an instant to identify. And then, screaming to project her voice over what sounded like Donahue on television, was Jason's mother. "THAT YOU JASON ?!" she called out. "Yeah, I'll be in my romm," he said as he walked up the stairs. "It's Friday, we're having leftover stew!" Jason didn't hear her and he didn't need to, smelling the effluvium emanating from the kitchen was like reading tonight's menu. He walked into his room(kept neat for a fourteen year old boy) and flicked on the light. He threw his backpack on the floor and it landed with a THUD. He was going to take off his shoes, but before he could, he was lying on his bed, already feeling the tension releasing from his body. And before the second hand on his 1950's replica Coca-Cola clock turned 360 degrees, he had fallen asleep. Two hours later, he woke to the sound of Jenny's voice. "Jason? Jason, it's time for dinner. Jason, it's-" Jason opened his eyes and was staring straight at her. When she saw that he had awaken, she turned around and exited his room, humming some grade-school tune. He got up, looked at himself in the mirror, and fluffed out his hair. He could hear the clatter of dishes and silverware downstairs and the faint voices of his mother, and father, who apparently had arrived while Jason slept. 3 He had began to walk downstairs, hoping, (praying) that his father wouldn't ask him about the test. MAYBE HE'S FORGOTTEN, he thought as he walked into the kitchen. MAYBE HE HAD A BAD DAY AT WORK AND HE ISN'T EVEN THINKING ABOUT THE TEST. MAYBE HE'LL TALK ABOUT SOMETHING ELSE, MAYBE HE'LL- "How did you do on your test, son?" he heard his dad say. He looked up and saw both of his parents staring at him. Or was it THROUGH him? It looked as though they were looking beyond his face, directly into his brain, trying to come up with the answer before he decided to tell it. Even Jenny who had been going full speeed on her dinner, (or had perfected the art of faking it) stopped and looked at him. The repulsive smell of the stew was penetrating his nostils and he would have grimaced, had he not been the subject of his family's excruciating stares. "What test?" "Your biology test, of course." I FAILED GODDAMIT, I FAILED THE TEST, I GOT AN 'F,' YOU SONOFABITCH - IT HAPPENS YOU KNOW ! he almost said - but he didn't. An instead he heard himself say, "Welll . . . I got an 'A'" and then he added, "an A minus, actually," just to make himslf sound more truthful. Everyone sighed out of relief and smiles appeared on their faces. The tension was gone immediately. And for a second there, Jason thought he really did get an 'A' on the test. "Great, son! We're very proud of you," they said almost in harmony. His mother slapped some stew on his plate and that was that. "Thanks," he said. That night, Jason Brennan had nightmares, and he woke the next morning with a bad aftertaste in his mouth.