Shunned

“Peter! Get ready or you’ll be late for school!” Shouted Peter’s mom from the kitchen downstairs. The teenaged boy got dressed quickly, for fear of inciting his mother’s wraith and exited his room, casting a slight glance at the room down the hall. He always wondered what could be inside. It had been locked ever since he was a child, and no one every went in or out. Shrugging off his curiosity, he dashed downstairs where breakfast was just being served. Peter’s dad was reading the local newspaper, as usual, while Mom prepared a breakfast fit for a king.

“Now remember, you have piano lessons right after school and don’t forget to do your Chinese homework.”

Peter ate his food slowly, chewing ten times before swallowing, just as his mother had taught him. He sipped orange juice from his glass slowly, ignoring his instinct to just gulp it all down, and wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin.

“Put your paper down Dear, the food’s ready.”

“Huh, it says here that the Wang’s youngest son, William got a near perfect score on his SATs. Now that’s one impressive boy.”

“If only Ni-“

“Hush Dear, don’t go on saying something that’s not necessary,” warned Dad, signalling with his eyes that Peter was still within earshot.

After excusing himself from the table, Peter grabbed his backpack and hurried outside to catch the bus. As he entered the vehicle, he walked past the Dorazio twins, brothers that had been born at the same time.

Peter watched as they played game together, laughing and joking with one another. He wondered what it would be like to have a brother. Someone to share his burden of pleasing his parents with. It seemed that no matter how hard he tried, there was always someone else better than him. Charlie was a prodigy on the piano, while Ben could speak fluent Mandarin and Cantonese. Fung got entered into a prestigious college and now there was this William who crushed the SATs. Peter sighed, wondering if there was anything more to life than pleasing his parents.

He got off the bus with all the other kids and rushed to class, hopefully to get a spot in the front of the room. His eyesight was not the best and sometimes it was hard to see the board from the back row of seats.

Thankfully, when he got there, there was one last seat up front, while the more carefree students occupied the back rows.

As the teacher entered the room, the class quieted down and watched as he handed out the marked quizzes that they had completed yesterday. When Peter received his quiz, he winced at the mediocre score he had gotten. An A minus stood out in bright red ink, as if mocking his meagre attempt to get a high enough score to please his parents. He knew when his mother found out she would make him practice the same problems he got wrong dozens of times over.

“Now class, we’re going to move on to trigonometry. Does anyone know the theorem we use primarily in trig off the top of their head?” asked the teacher, doubtful any of his students would know.

“Is it Pythagoras’ Theorem?” asked Peter quietly, almost whispering in politeness.

“That’s correct Peter! Well done!”

Peter heard the snickers in the back overhearing comments like “teacher’s pet” or “smart aleck.” His ears grew bright red in embarrassment, resulting in even more laughter from the back rows before the teacher glared at them to be silent.

The next class was one of Peter’s favourites, computer studies. He relished the rush he got from typing as fast as he could, while maintaining as few errors and typos as possible. He was always racing this girl called Martha, and the two of them had a healthy competition each class. One day Peter would be faster, then the next day, Martha would be on top. Today, Martha won the speed race and Peter conceded defeat, shaking her hand and congratulating her on a battle well won. “Looks like you got me today. But I’ll be bringing it tomorrow!”

“I hope so, it’s boring if I crush you every time you know, ha ha!” said Martha as they both chuckled.

As the bell rang signalling the start of lunch, Peter sat alone, eating his fried rice and drinking his tiny carton of apple juice. His mom had always said juice had too much sugar and only allowed him to drink modest amounts every day. Peter looked over at the food being served at the cafeteria, wonderful smelling French fries, pizzas and burgers. There were also Caesar salads, chicken wings and all sorts of candy for sale.

Peter pushed around his soggy rice inside his Thermos, his appetite lost many years ago after eating the almost same meal day after day. He longed for the junk food the other kids indulged in, but he knew his mother would never approve.

At the end of the school day, Peter was far from done learning. There were still Piano lessons and Chinese homework to catch up on. As his mom drove back home, Peter handed her the underperformed quiz and a frown immediately crossed her face.

“Peter, you know better than to make mistakes like that. You know what? After Chinese homework I’ll help you go over the questions you got wrong tonight, okay?”

Peter snorted to himself, Knew it. It’s going to be a long night.

As they arrived home, Peter unpacked his bag and put his lunch utensils in the sink. He then sat at the grand piano, practicing some scales and intervals before the teacher arrived. Every week, a teacher would come to teach him piano, and he had successfully completed five grades of the Royal Conservatory of Music with honours each time. While he was not a genius like Charlie, with enough practice, he was fairly comfortable playing difficult pieces on the piano.

The ringing of the doorbell signalled his teacher’s arrival, and Peter smiled as he saw the young man coming in. His hair was short, but long enough to stick up awkwardly, as if telling the world it would not be tamable. He wore a homey ugly sweater and smelled of the curry one would find at an Indian restaurant.

“Alright Peter, let’s start with some major scales. Can you play me an A major scale?”

Peter played the simple notes heading right with both hands then heading back down the same way, remembering the sharps in the notes.

“Well done, now how about a G major scale? Remember this one only has one sharp, F”

Again, Peter played the scale perfectly, not surprisingly as his mother had instructed him on practicing the piano for at least an hour a day.

“Good job, now, let’s review your Studies now. Remember to keep the beat with the metronome and use the right fingering so you don’t get tangled up.”

Part of Peter thought as he played the piece, wondering if he’ll ever be as good as Charlie.

“Good. Good. Now remember Fortissimo needs to be nice and loud, and make sure to play with the crescendo this time.”

After nearly an hour of practice, Mom paid the teacher and Peter got ready for his daily Chinese homework. He would practice writing out the characters over and over, till they were etched into his brain and impossible to forget. With over three thousand characters needed to understand Mandarin, there was a lot of characters Peter needed to learn.

By dinner time, Peter was exhausted and felt rather sleepy as he sat at the dining table. The promise of good food somewhat kept him awake, but he couldn’t wait to get into bed and rest his weary brain. Dinner was a simple affair, steamed fish with scallions and roasted garlic, pork with vegetables, fried eggs and a bowl of rice.

Dad was busy checking the reports from his job on his phone, while Mom piled up pieces of meat and vegetables onto both their bowls, urging them to eat up.

With dinner finished, Peter waited for Mom to finish cleaning up before they would go over the incorrectly answered questions on his quiz. Peter stifled a yawn and looked hopefully at the clock, knowing after this he would be free to get ready for bed.

“Now let’s see what questions you got wrong Dear. Hmm, looks like you switched the wrong variable in this section. Here, let me show you how to properly do it.”

By nine o’clock, everyone was ready for bed, and as Peter was about to enter his room, he noticed a shiny object reflecting the light from the lamppost outside. Curious, he walked over to the potted plant and reached behind it, finding a single key cleverly hidden behind the pot. Wondering where the key might lead to, he had one possibility in his mind. The locked room.

He waited a while to make sure his parents were asleep, then walked quietly to the room down the hall that had been locked for years. He inserted the key, and twisted it, surprised as the clink sound signaled the door was unlocked. He gently pushed in the door and immediately smelled a musty odour as if the room was a little damp and stale. The room had a small bed tucked away in the corner, with boxes strewn throughout the place.

He picked up a photograph, thinking initially it was himself, but upon closer inspection, he realized it couldn’t have been him! Sure, the boy in the picture had the same eyes, same nose, and same ears, but there was a noticeable birthmark under his right eye, something Peter didn’t have. It was then it hit him, he had a long-lost brother somewhere out there.

Picking up a letter that was addressed to his parents, Peter realized why his brother had left and never returned.

Mom and Dad,

I’ve decided to go out and live on my own, so please don’t come looking for me. I’m sorry for not being good enough for you both; that I failed to meet your expectations. I’m sorry I failed grade eight piano twice, that I almost flunked Math twelve, and barely made it passing chemistry. I’m sorry I like candy, chocolate and chips. I’m sorry for yelling at you both for cutting my internet off. I’m sorry for looking up things on the internet that I shouldn’t have. That is why, I think it is better if we go our separate ways and end the fighting. If we don’t, I’m afraid we all will somehow get hurt, and I want to avoid that. I’m not the son you wanted me to be, and you’re not the parents that I needed. I just hope you don’t make the same mistake with Peter. Exasperation can lead to undesirable consequences in the end and there’s more to life than money and good health. I pray you will understand.

Nic

Peter gasped as he realized he had a brother all this time and that it was hidden from him years ago. It seemed Mom and Dad had pressured Nic just as much or even more than the pressure they were putting on himself. Piano, Math, Chemistry. They had the same expectations for both himself and his brother.

He found a broken trophy on the desk, which had apparently been thrown somewhere with great force. He brushed aside the dust and the plaque read “Nic Lee, Most Improved in Piano.” Such a symbol of pride for both Nic and his parents was evidently broken just as the pressure to excel had broken his brother’s spirit.

Picking back up the photograph, he could see himself in the picture; that fake smile, fake contentment. But the question remained, would he be broken like his brother or would he keep striving to please his parents.

The End