Free The Naked Mole-Rat Letters by Mary Amato

Nutter’s face scrunched up like he was about to vomit. “I hate chicken pie,” he complained.
    â€œWell it’s what we’re having for dinner. So dig in,” Dad said with a big smile. He clearly didn’t care.
    â€œWell I’m not eating.” Nutter crossed his arms.
    â€œFine.”
    Nutter started to cry. “You
want
me to starve?”
    Dad ignored him. “Skip, it’s your turn to wash the dishes tonight. After dinner I need to spend some time working in the basement. I’m making a masterpiece.”
    â€œSo who’s the new dulcimer for?” I asked very casually.
    He took a swig of water. “Nobody special. I’m just experimenting with a new design idea.”
    Liar, I wanted to say. I stuck my fork into a chunk of white meat.
    Dad asked Skip how school was. While Skip chattered on about what he saw in his teacher’s desk drawer, I stared at the square of chicken on my fork. Normally I would pop it into my mouth, but tonight I couldn’t. Every time I looked at the little piece, I kept seeing a live chicken staring back at me. How could somebody chop up a live chicken and bake it in a pie?
    I pushed my plate away.
    â€œFrankie—why aren’t you eating?”
    â€œI can’t eat it,” I said. “I’m a vegetarian.”
    Dad dropped his fork. “Since when?”
    â€œSince now.”
    He shook his head like he wanted to stick us in a box and ship us to China. “Two out of three not eating. You guys have no idea how annoying you can be.”
    â€œWhat’s wrong with being a vegetarian?” I asked. Your darling Ayanna Bayo is a vegetarian, I wanted to say, and I bet you don’t yell at her for it.
    Nutter wailed. “I’m not annoying. I’m starving. Nobody cares that I’m starving?”
    â€œYou can’t starve, Nutter,” Skip said. “Youate the rest of Frankie’s birthday cake right before dinner.”
    Instead of getting mad at Nutter for eating the cake, or at Skip for tattling, Dad turned his attention to me. “Frankie, why on earth did you let Nutter have cake before dinner?”
    â€œI didn’t give it to him.”
    â€œAren’t you supposed to be watching him after school?”
    Nutter sniffled and hugged his koala backpack to his chest. “She’s
supposed
to make me a koala costume, and all she did was e-mail.”
    â€œShe was e-mailing Ayanna Bayo,” Skip blurted out.
    The truth came flying at me like an ice ball in the face. “You skinny little creep!” I shrieked, and threw down my fork. It bounced off the table and almost hit Skip.
    My anger shut up everybody for a second. Then Dad’s voice became as tight and thin as a wire. “Frankie, that is way out of line.”
    â€œWhy don’t you tell Skip to mind his own business? Why don’t you tell Nutter to stop being such a baby?”
    Nutter ran from the table.
    I got up, and Dad grabbed my hand.
    â€œSit down,” he said.
    â€œForget it.” I pulled away.
    â€œDon’t talk to me like that, Frankie.”
    â€œWhat are you going to do? Nail me to the chair? You don’t care about me anyway.” I ran up to my room and locked the door.
    He pounded up the stairs and knocked. “Frankie, you can’t keep locking yourself in there.”
    â€œWhy should I talk when all you do is yell at me?”
    â€œWhat’s this about e-mailing the woman from the zoo?”
    â€œNothing. I had some questions about her stupid naked mole-rats. That’s all. She sent her e-mail address with that book and said if I had any questions, I should e-mail her. Is that a crime?”
    He was silent. With any luck, he’d believe me.
    Nutter’s voice came through. “Is that naked rat lady coming here?”
    â€œNutter, I’m talking to Frankie now. Okay? Frankie, will you please open the door? This is ridiculous.”
    Nutter wailed.