"God knows how much I regret having you! God knows!"
A hoarse female voice, with a natural rap cadence, violently shattered Alex sweet dream. He sighed, sat up helplessly, and slowly pulled a sweater over his head from the bedside.
It had been more than ten days since he transmigrated. Regardless of whether he adapted or not, he could only endure it for now.
Of course, he wasn't called his previous name anymore, nor was an Indian. His full name was now Alexander Slade, a fifteen-year-old boy whose biological parents died in a car accident and who was living with his aunt in Chicago.
"M-F***ing seventeen! At seventeen, you M-F***ing learned to stay out all night like a b****! M-F***rrrr~"
The soundproofing was almost nonexistent, and a barrage of crude language shot straight into his ears from downstairs. Aunt Susie was "educating" her seventeen-year-old daughter, Alexander's cousin, Connie.
"Biological," Alex secretly sighed.
Compared to the Indians, African Americans expressed their emotions with such "intensity" and "passion." Calling her own daughter a b**** and saying "F her mom" was just Aunt Susie's usual routine.
"Yeah, yeah! Speaking of b****es, I wonder who had two kids when they were seventeen!"
After all these years, Connie was clearly used to being scolded and immediately retorted, showing no signs of weakness. Aunt Susie had given birth to her eldest son, Tony, when she was sixteen, and then Connie the following year. After that, the man responsible disappeared without a trace…
"SH**!"
Aunt Susie, hit where it hurt, became furious. "SH**! You heartless little b****, just like that heartless man, I curse you! I M-F***ing curse you… "
"Hey, hey, the point is staying out all night, right?" Alex complained internally again.
On this matter, if it were in India, parents' focus would absolutely not stray. But Aunt Susie, while arguing, completely forgot about Cousin Connie not coming home all night…
Dressed, Alex walked out and turned into the nearby bathroom, turning on the faucet to wash up.
The rushing water temporarily drowned out the quarrel downstairs. He looked into the mirror, examining his current self once more.
According to American aesthetic standards for Black people, he had a slightly youthful, good-looking face. Because he had half white blood, his skin tone was like Stephen Curry's. At fifteen, he was already over 1.7 meters tall, and his build was quite well-proportioned… Of course, as a transmigrator, his future success was a given, so the quality of this physical appearance didn't really matter. After all, this was America, a capitalist society where you could buy anything with money.
"But here's the problem. It's one thing to let me transmigrate without giving me any special abilities, but it's too much to not even let me bring over my memories from my previous life!"
For the past ten-plus days, no matter how hard Alex tried, his memories of his previous life remained a blur. Aside from his math scores improving by leaps and bounds, he couldn't recall any major historical events or any books he had read or games he had played in his past life. And that bit of math improvement didn't mean much; Chicago's South Side was mostly a Black-populated ghetto, community schools had very poor teaching quality, and exam difficulty was inherently low. If he didn't even bring over that bit of Indian racial talent, Alex really wouldn't be able to play the game.
"Is there still a lazy bum? Get down here for breakfast!"
With many children, and not enough energy to treat them differently, Aunt Susie treated everyone equally, never giving Alex any abuse or special treatment. Of course, this also applied to her words.
"Coming!"
Alex quickly finished up and hurried downstairs.
The creaking of the stairs indicated that the house was old. It was a standard ghetto small house, detached but with little space between it and the adjacent houses, mostly all wooden. The second floor originally had two bedrooms, one large and one small, and a bathroom. The larger bedroom was divided into two.
Alex and his cousin Tony shared one room, Connie and her ten-year-old sister Emily shared another, and Aunt Susie and her less-than-one-year-old brother Freddy lived in the original small bedroom.
The first floor had an open-plan living room, kitchen, and dining area, with only a small bathroom without a shower located under the stairs between the first and second floors.
Despite their loud arguments, everyone still went about their business. Aunt Susie held a spatula in one hand, tending to the golden scrambled eggs in the pan, and cradled little Freddy, who was looking at people with wide blue eyes, in the other. Aunt Susie's newest boyfriend was white, so little Freddy was biracial.
At the dining table, Connie and Emily were taking turns pouring milk and Cheerios from bulk containers into their bowls.
Tony, meanwhile, was tilting his head back, crudely squirting whipped cream from a can directly into his mouth.
"Open wide."
He swallowed a mouthful of whipped cream, then turned the can to face Alex .
"No, thanks."
Alex shook his head and refused. The soul in this body had changed. With Aunt Susie and Tony's bucket-like figures and Connie's visibly expanding horizontal trend as cautionary tales, obesity was definitely an enemy he needed to be constantly vigilant against in this life.
"You've changed a lot lately, Alex," Tony said.
"Have I?" Alex 's heart tightened. "In what way?"
"Hmm…"
Tony started eating his milk and cereal. "It's just… it's a feeling… you know."
"It's so simple! It's for a girl!"
Connie teased Alex, "Who are you hooking up with?" once again successfully derailing the conversation.
"I…"
Alex hadn't caught up with the thought yet when Aunt Susie evenly divided the soft Western-style scrambled eggs onto the plates in front of the four siblings. "Shut your f***ing mouth and finish eating quickly, don't miss the school bus!" She was very displeased with Connie now.
"Let me change my clothes! Be right there!" This time, Connie didn't talk back. She sprang up and quickly rushed upstairs.
In America, girls wearing yesterday's clothes usually meant they hadn't stayed home overnight, so Connie's main purpose in coming home that morning was to change clothes.
"Who brought her back this morning?" Aunt Susie quietly asked, seizing the opportunity. So she hadn't forgotten about it after all.
"How would I know? I only heard the engine," Tony replied, then secretly stomped on Alex's foot.
Alex shook his head; he really didn't know. Little Emily also shook her head.
Aunt Susie didn't press further and returned to washing the kitchen utensils. "Oh! Black woman…" she sighed softly.
Milk, Cheerios, scrambled eggs— Alex finished them all in just three minutes. It was 1990, and the American welfare system probably wasn't as good as it was before he transmigrated, but for a single-parent family with five children, meeting the most basic needs for food, clothing, housing, and education seemed to be no problem at all. In terms of food, it was even calorie-excessive.
When Connie had changed, the four siblings said goodbye to Aunt Susie and walked out of the house together.
Unlike alex's impression of America before transmigrating, the yards in this neighborhood had no lush green lawns, only withered weeds and randomly piled clutter, dilapidated wooden fences, and various models of old cars. Including Aunt Susie, several other households had a small Cameroonian flag hanging outside their doors, indicating that they still remembered their roots far away on the African continent.
"So cold!"
Chicago in February was not only cold but also very windy. Emily shivered and quickly hid her small body behind Tony.
Tony turned and hugged Emily, using his hand to shield her face. Everyone hunched their shoulders and walked quickly towards the school bus stop a few hundred meters away.