The Day Anne Parker Lost Her Voice

Chapter Two

Chapter Two



For a long time, I’ve always wanted to win the high jump championships. It was my all-time biggest dream. That’s why I’ve dedicated most of my time into hardcore trainings. No pain, no gain, they say.

I’ve been into sports for as long as I could remember. It’s just been my thing. I guess you could say it’s because of my dad. He used to be this all-time back-to-back champion on the high jump competition back in his days. That was back then. Now he was just an old fart with the occasional back ache with a teenage son as his baggage.

“Well, would you look at that,” my dad was saying one morning while he dedicatedly polished a picture frame.

It was one of the old newspaper clippings my mother framed and lined up our wall. He never gets rid of them even if all they do is remind him of her every single day. But then I think it’s mostly because most of it was his face printed on the front page of the local paper and he likes looking at them.

“Looking good in here.” He chuckles. “Look at all those medals!”

I snort and I grab the milk carton from the fridge. The old man did always love to brag.

He laughed and gave me a thump on the shoulder. “Just motivating my boy. You’re going to be like me, eh? You’re gonna follow your old man’s steps, eh? Well, we’ll see about that. See if you can compete with this!”

“Sure,” I told him. “Your golden days are way behind you. Don’t steal my thunder.”

“Heh.” He smirked. “You’ll be better, I’m counting on that.”

It’s only been me and my dad since the woman of the house left years ago. And despite not showing it, I did want to make the old man proud. That’s why I work hard and train hard.

But the pressure of being the son of a former celebrity athlete was quite bugging. Everybody’s eyes are on you – always and expectantly.

“Nice work, Jesse!” Coach Porter hollers, giving me a thumbs-up right after I landed on the mattress.

I grinned at him and got up to my feet.

Dale tossed me a bottle of cold water and I nodded gratefully to him. I wiped off the dampness from my forehead and chugged. The sun was scorching hot as it shone above the skies, making my skin glisten with sweat. State championship’s only three weeks away from now. Man, it is going to be hectic these following days for me.

“You’re doing really great, man!” Dale whooped, hopping down the bleachers towards me. “As always.”

His tiny frame of a body made him looked like an asthmatic walking stick. I was afraid the wind might blow him away.

“I know.” I smile smugly. “Thanks.”

“I mean – I don’t know what to say, I really don’t – I’m speechless!” he babbles. “You’re really good at this, man. The only thing I’m good at is beating you at video games and that’s all.”

“At least you have something good at.” I shrugged. “No need to feel bad about yourself.”

With a quick glance, I spot the gaggle of cheerleaders arriving at the field. Ah, the pièce de résistance of every after-school training. “You could always go try out for the cheering squad though,” I joked.

“How do I that?” he asks, also observing the chicks and enjoying the view.

“Try wearing a b*a and see if you’ll get in,” I suggested.

“Man, look at those legs,” Dale sighs, engrossed at the majestic vision. “Wow.”

I whacked him on the head. “Dale, my man, do not drool at the ladies. Let the ladies drool at you.”

“Now, how do I do that?” he asks, looking very serious all of a sudden. “How do you even do that? I mean, it’s like every chick in this high school literally drool every time you pass them by!”

I smirked. Dale being utterly loyal to me was simply overstating. “It’s easy, man,” I tell him as we face the girls who were getting ready on their positions to do their usual stretches. “You just got to be cool and act like you’re not interested. Ladies always desire what they cannot have, trust me.”

“What the hell, man?” Dale sniggered. “You sound so weird.”

“I’m speaking with my macho accent.” I grinned with a wink.

“Dude, you just sound high!”

I snorted, giving him a shove as I sat down on one of the bleachers. Coach was nowhere to be found so I assumed I could maybe take a break. I sat and watched the dudes from the rugby team drift around the girls like unwanted fruit flies, attempting to tease and flirt with the girls. Try as they might, only thing they got was a pompom thrown into their faces.

I knew the girls liked it. They’re just pretending not to. They sure do have fun teasing the guys back and making fun of them. And I just liked sitting back and watching all the episodes around me.

My eyes involuntarily did a swivel towards this one girl sitting alone on the benches, clearly not interested with what was going on around her. She was wearing sweatpants underneath her skirt, which I found funny and weird, and was buried nose deep on a book. I mean, why would you bring a book that thick when you’re going to practice for cheer? Books and pompoms never go along.

Her attention was so absorbed into the book, only glancing up once to watch one of her fellow cheerleaders kick a guy on the shin.

I knew I could be a bit short sighted at times that’s why it took me quite some time to recognize the dark-haired girl until I realized why she looked too familiar.

“What is she doing in there?” I blurted out.

“Who?” Dale asks with a start, mid-chew on a sugared turon he was busily making out with.

“Weird girl in the sweatpants!” I gestured.

“Where?” Dale asked, scratching his head. “Oh. Anne Parker?”

“How is she on the cheering squad?!”

I shook my head in disbelief. Anne Parker? Cheerleading? What’s next? Ravens turning white?

“God,” I said, throwing my hands up in the air in disbelief. “It’s like wherever I go she’s there. Why is that? I go to school, she’s there. I go to class; she’s there sat right behind me. I go to my training – and she’s there part of the damn cheering squad? And that doesn’t even stop at school. Every time I go home, she takes the same damn street, as well!”

Dale pulls a tight lip and shrugs. “That’s because your neighbors, dude.”

“Exactly!”

Did I mention already that Anne Parker was also actually my next-door neighbor?

“How do I get rid of her?”

I didn’t know it at first. I had no idea. It was Dale who found out and broke the news one Saturday afternoon when he dropped by my place.

“What?” I barked as soon as I yanked the front door open.

His wide-eyed face greeted me. “Dude, you’re neighbors with Anne Parker?”

“What?!”

I thought he was pulling my leg. But when I stepped out of the house and saw the moving trucks – from that day on, I realized that my life had become a living nightmare.

We sat on the floor of my bedroom staring into blank space.

“Anne Parker? That same Anne Parker from school is my neighbor?” My voice had gone an octave high.

Dale nodded solemnly at me. “She is.”

“What?!”

Dale winced and rubbed his ear.

“How come I didn’t have any idea?”

Apparently, it’s already been a week since Parker’s family moved in and the moving trucks outside were just delivering the last of their stuffs a week late. And I never even noticed anything.

“I don’t know,” Dale says to me. “Maybe because you were too busy wallowing on some corner of your house? Or maybe you were just too busy filling yourself up with some protein diet your dad arranged for you – I mean, look at your arms! They’re twice thicker than mine. You’re, like, man of steel!”

He punched me on my arm to test his theory and winced.

“Man of steel,” he whispers with saucer-wide eyes.

I groaned and ran my hands through my greasy hair. “God, I never knew she was my neighbor!”

Just some two months ago, our previous neighbor from before moved out and put the house up on sale. He was this old geezer who lived alone and mostly kept to himself. I never really bothered knowing him. Old people are fine. They’re fine to me. But this guy, this old neighbor of ours whom my dad calls Mr. Heathers, he was definitely not fine.

For one thing: He was loud.

Every night he would play this huge, old cello of his as if he was holding a private concert on his house. It was excruciatingly loud and unpleasant. I’ve had lots of sleepless nights tortured by the horrid noise that sounded like claws scratching against metal.

I mean, he was a nice old guy but it was a blessing when one day he decided to retire to some new place I don’t know but I’m pretty sure was miles and miles away and I was glad. Heard it was a nice little cottage near a lake by the country side. Less pollution. Less neighbors to torment. Good for him.

When Mr. Heathers left, I thought I was finally going to have peace. Turns out, I was wrong.

Leaning all the way back on the bench, I lied flat on my back and mopped my face with my hands in misery.

“Why do you hate her so much?” Dale queries.

“She’s a real pain the a*s,” I complained. “I hate her guts.”

I really did hate her. I hate that she’s so loud. I hate that she’s all over everywhere.

“Why do you hate her?”

“I don’t know, I just do!” I wailed, squinting at the sun. I began to do some crunches while on the bench.

“For no reason?”

Dale raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Dude, you can’t just hate anybody with no reason at all. What if you don’t actually hate her?

What if, you actually really like her but you got it all wrong in your head so that’s why you think you hate her but in reality, you actually don’t?”

I stopped mid-crunch to give him a weird look. “What on earth are you even talking about?”

“Okay!” He shrugs, tossing his hands in the air in defeat. “Don’t believe me. But, hey, you never know…”

I scoffed, eyeing Anne Parker across the field. Merely a sight of her gives me one hell of a headache enough to last a lifetime.

If there’s one thing I know, I know that I would perpetually hate Anne Parker’s guts for as long as I breathe.