The Open Gates (IV)

It was then when Micael went awoke, loosely lying above the floor of their house. He budged a little bit, twisted his torso as stretched, as one would do right after opening their eyelids. It was also then he realized they had a party yesterday, altogether with his friends.

"Where are they, mother?" he said as he saw her walking outside, with a basket full of grilled cheese and peanut butter on it, which gave him they very intuition that they were outside with her. "They are here, honey. Should you come outside, better be rinsing your face because you look so wasted," her mother replied with a quite sweet shouting. It took Micael a moment and got himself to stand up to the nearby bathroom, next to the hallway. He quickly noticed that the boxes were neatly organized and were named with 'Mr. and Mrs. Pratt's' decently.

"Quite nicely," he whispered while still feeling the tipsiness ensued ere sleeping. He had reached the spiral staircase to the mezzanine where the bathroom was just beside it when he subconsciously remembered the antique pendulum clock that him, Anna, and Cate had talked about the night before. He was surprised on how clean was it and got the chance to cover it neatly, where he took the very moment to do so.

"Let me help you with that, Mic," said his father who was taking his daily dosage of coffee above. They together covered the bulky timekeeper and Micael continued his arrears in the bathroom. As usual, he just took his very vanity kit and rinsed his face with what's inside: A very superficial soap, toothbrush, and of course the exfoliator that Anna gave her as a gift. He then walked outside their house, where he saw his friends eating and enjoying the grilled cheese his mother had prepared them, which was indeed very indulgent.

He could also remember the first time they went to their house around their sophomore year, where they were all just acquainted and were just getting along with each other. "You should try this, a little different, right, Micael?" said Anna in a quite energetic way. She seems way too surprised that Micael's mother was a great cook as well and the fact that Anna was very fond of any food with cheese on it.

"It is." Micael replied as his mother used a different, yet similar kind of cheese, a brie and caramelized apples to compliment with everything else. "What's your whereabouts later, dear?" His mother said to everyone circled around the table.

"I think we can call this a day," Keith uttered. Seemed worried, Cate also replied: "Yeah. I thought of mother awhile and I thought we better get going, going to watch an Opera performance in Sydney, too."

It was then that everyone was packed up, prepared and ready to leave the house. It gave Micael the unusual look to everyone else, as that could be their last minute this year. "So, see you on the other side then, mate?" said Jake in quite the saddest manner possible, though smiling to at least sugar coat. "See you, guys," Micael replied, who followed a weep. They have had their last hugs and kisses among each other, and before Micael's, they left their house from the front porch of their house.

"They're good guys, dear. So, Shall we?"

her Mother said. Micael was never really able, or capable, or even uttering one good reply, but he hugged his mother and went to rummage around the house. The moving company had arrived as well, just after his friends departed and suited their own meaningful ways, and should one say, there were a lot of things to transport such as paintings, Micael's instruments which were a ton load, and those of paramount importance.

Micael quickly went outside and called his father upstairs: "Dad! The guys are here. We better be going, or we might miss the ship." "Said by whom?" His father replied, who took another sip of flat white and fold the paper crosswise. "Said mother. There's also someone who's coming along with us." "Fair enough," his father replied, which seemed so sarcastic and uneven that made Micael cracked a laugh.

"Enough dilly-dally," her mother followed and uttered: "We should get started cleaning the hallway and living room as well as the mezzanine, dear, is already dingy-not."

Micael and his father quickly moved to the hallway and living room to help the called men transport some of their things, let alone some odds-and-ends, to the omnibuses. Micael was quickly minded of his instruments, of which he cared of it the most, because he does not want for those men to carelessly and single-handedly carry those for him, with the grand piano exempted as one couldn't even make the littlest budge. He was obviously brisk walking, though not really constricted by time itself, while carrying his instruments one by one to the omnibuses and told every man a g'day.

"You becoming a brit, mate?" said one of the men.

"Not really, sir. Much more of an outcast, I must presume."

"I mean, London is quite the hard cheese, as some brits would utter."

They quickly minded their own ways and minded their very businesses as they were only given a much littler time to pack themselves up, in order for the Pratt family to catch the ship. Micael had taken a ten-trip worth from their living room to their front porch to hand the instruments to the men, as one became easily tired and fully flexed. One could definitely see the exhaustion ensued as well as there were dripping sweat all over his face, crawling down to his very torso. He took the quickest break and started lifting some boxes, again, at least the smaller and lighter ones.

As he lifted the boxes one by one and headed to the omnibuses, he took a mere glimpse unto all of the boxes, as they were not completely sealed, and surprised to find out that even his mother wanted to keep some withered flowers father gave when they were still young and enjoying a quite average Australian life. When he reached the omnibuses outside, her mother called him to go back:

"Honey! Fetch the last box and we will better be on our way to the port," she uttered.

"Yes, mother. I am coming," Micael replied while walking briskly back to their house. Sooner he arrived quite earlier than his mother expected. As one would not want to be late on their fleet, he quickly lifted the last box and walked with his mother to the last omnibus, which was waiting for the two of the, not to mention that his father was getting to be pissed off as his mother was so clumsy and walking so dearest, as he could recall, a sloth, perhaps.

"What's inside the box, mother?" asked Micael, looking perplexed by of how light the box was. "It isn't that greatly sealed, honey, and I know you wouldn't mind taking a glimpse, or even looking at it." Upon his mother's quite superficial approval, he slowly and carefully dropped the box and opened it, then was greatly surprised of what was inside. There were a lot of blank papers, some straightedges, inks, feathers of a bird which Micael couldn't make name of, and a drawing of their house as well as Pratt Family's portrait, drawn by one of his father's accomplice in Sydney.

"What's with these, mother?"

"Look, our ship will take months or might even a year to get to British shores, and one mustn't be bored while slowly adrift, right?"

"Oh, mother, you know me so well," Micael finally replied and hugged his mother. He closed the box and lifted it once again, as one does not want to angry his father, and both of them continued walking straight to the omnibus. "Shall we give it a go?" His father shouted. "Sure, father. Let me do the gates for you first," Micael replied. He handed the box to his father and closed the gate, and went back to the omnibus, where they immediately went off to the port.

...