December
2006
Amalgam
Disclaimer: For those of you who don’t know what an amalgam is (or forgot), an amalgam is created when you take certain characteristics from people you know, and create one fictional charater with those quirks. Then you place the character in a place you know well and write a couple of pharagraphs in which you subtly say what all those quirks are. See if you can spot what they are in my piece. Enjoy!
“I was told to sit and wait but I can’t. One, because I have WAY to much energy and two, because I hate my grandma and am not going to do anything she says IF I can help it. Gretchen, my grandmother is always ordering me around. With her German upbringing she insists on proper manners at all times. By “proper” manners she means no slouching, no chewing with your mouth open, no getting up without being excused, answering her questions promptly, always calling her Ma’am, and other mannerisms typical of her time (though not generally practiced anymore).Even though I do that whenever I slip slightly I hear booming in my direction, “CHEW ZE FOOD PROPERLY,” or “SIT LIKE A LADY AT ZE TABLE.” That’s what I hate .I look down at the white cushioned chairs and see that they are dirty; being the neat-freak I am I go into the kitchen to get a sponge. As I walk into the kitchen, grab a sponge and start running water over it I stare at the shiny mirror over the sink and see staring back at me a pair of bright green eyes under the bangs of dirty-blond hair. My skin has a gentle tan with the time being late summer so the freckles on my nose are barely visible. I glance down at the sponge and see that the sponge is soaked. I wring it out and run back to the dining room. As I am wiping down the chairs I hear my brother yelling,” ELLEN, ELLEN, ELLEN!”
“COMING!” I yell back, reluctantly I put down my sponge and stride down the step into the living room determined to get whatever he wants over with. I see an orange tabby kitten shoot out from under the piano in the corner and zoom into the guest bedroom, startled by my sudden movement. Instantly my impatience vanished, the narrow tunnel of thought focused on being mad at my brother lifted and I hated my lack of compassion toward the animal, my actions, and everything I had done that had scared a poor helpless kitten. Forgetting about my brother I wandered into the bedroom and found Tigger on the bed, I went over and started petting him to apologize. Just as he relaxes my brother’s loud voice comes from the other room.
“ELLEN!” Once again poor Tigger went bounding away
“Sorry Tiggy,” I called after him. I went into my brother’s room and promptly ran into the door.
“You do that a lot,” said Matt.“Remind me again what your I.Q. was.”
“198,” ,” I said rubbing my bruised head.
“You sure don’t act like it.”
“Thanks; what did you want me for?” ?” I asked surveying my older brother (He’s 16, I’m 13).
His dark brown features looked questioning and he asked “Can you still make your eyebrows do the wave?”
“Sure, why?”
“I made a bet” he said simply “let me take a picture”
I demonstrated and let him photograph. “Well I better go back out and wait for grandma, bye.”
