Free The Naked Mole-Rat Letters by Mary Amato Page B

asked.
    â€œNothing. I just saw her name. You deleted them faster than I could read them. Why areyou writing to her anyway? Why is this such a big deal?”
    â€œShe’s an enemy, Skip. She’s trying to get her claws into Dad. You have to know who your enemies are.” I slammed my door.
    A minute later Dad knocked. “Hey, Frankie. Why is this door closed again? You can’t stay angry.”
    â€œIt’s not because I’m angry,” I lied. “I have a report to do. I work better in privacy.”
    â€œWell, come out anyway. It’s Beth on the phone. She says she really wants to talk to you.”
    â€œI’m not in the mood for Beth,” I said.
    The last two things aren’t lies. I’m not in the mood to talk to Beth, and I do have a report to do.
    So am I writing my report? No, I am writing the saga of this evening. Although I’m feeling somewhat better now, I’m still mad at Skip. Perhaps I should sell him on eBay. I’m certainly never talking to him again. Now that Dad knows that I e-mailed Ratlady, he might find out what I’ve been e-mailing her about, and it will be all Skip’s fault.
    I’m starved, but I’m not coming out of thisroom . . . at least not until Dad is working on his stupid dulcimer in the basement. Then I’m going to sneak out and go on-line. I have one absolutely last lie, which will absolutely convince Ratlady. Since Ratlady doesn’t listen to me, I am going to write her a message and say it’s from Dad. It’s a dramatic, drastic idea, but these are dramatic, drastic times.
    Â 
To:
Ayanna Bayo
From:
Robert Wallop
Sent:
Tuesday, Oct. 21, 9:45 P.M .
Subject:
Confession
    Dear Ayanna:
    This is Robert. I have something to confess. I will be getting married soon. I should have told you this right away. But I’m taking some medicine that confuses my mind. I hope that you will understand. It would be best for me and my family if you would stop communicating with me. If I call or write, it is because I am confused. Please ignore me.
    Thank you,
    Robert
    Â 
To:
Robert Wallop
From:
Ayanna Bayo
Received:
Tuesday, Oct. 21, 10:00 P.M .
Subject:
Re: Confession
    Dear Frankie:
    I can tell that you wrote the message. I am worried about you. Signing someone else’s name to a message is serious. Here’s what I think is happening: I think you feel threatened by the idea of your dad becoming romantically involved with me. You probably miss your mom a lot and worry about someone taking her place. This is understandable. It’s called being “territorial.”
    Lots of animals are territorial for good reason: It helps them survive. Take naked mole-rats, for example. They live in very separate colonies, which are really big families. In the wild, if one mole-rat accidentally burrows into the tunnel system of another colony, the soldier mole-rats don’t bother getting acquainted with the new mole-rat. They attack immediately. This behavior is ingrained in them. Biologists call it a survival instinct. The idea is that in order to survive, a colony must defend itsterritory (that means its food supply) from others—even other mole-rats.
    You’re thinking of clever ways to try to dissuade me from having any further communication with your father. What you need to do is talk to him about all of this. Please, turn off the computer and tell your father how you feel.
    Honestly and hopefully yours,
    Ayanna
    Â 
To:
Ayanna Bayo
From:
Robert Wallop
Sent:
Tuesday, Oct. 21, 10:05 P.M .
Subject:
FYI
    Dear Ms. Bayo:
    I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t “sign” my dad’s name to an e-mail message. I have been in my room writing in my diary.
    I’ll tell you one thing, though. It makes a lot of sense to me that one colony of naked mole-rats wouldn’t