1.
A Perfect Day
“You said it wouldn’t hurt.”
“I said it wouldn’t hurt bad enough to
kill you.”
“You lied to me— I'm telling mom.”
The story of my life, “tell mom I'm
out finding the perfect switch for her to beat me with.”
I could tell you that I had the
perfect life living in the middle of mountains and forests, but I would be
lying. My life is better than perfect.
Oh, the occasional whimpers from my
guinea pig, Brooklynn if you want to get technical. And a not so happy mother, because
of my little sister's over dramatization about her ever so cruel treatment. You
can't make an omelet without cracking a few eggs. How was I supposed to cure
the common paper cut without one to experiment on?
Except for my mom’s distraction of
finding a cure for leukemia, in the northern forests, she was really great at
taking care of my eight year old sister.
I kept telling my mom that all of the
cures were to be found in the southern jungles, where the warm humid air breads
biological creatures in over abundance.
I explained to her that; because, of the fierce competition for
survival, the plants there had developed stronger immunities than they did in
the cold north.
She told me that that was why they haven’t found the best cures yet. They need one that
can lay dormant, lie in wait if you will, and then spring out at the right
moment of attack. I think she believed that she needed to dumb it down for
my eleven year old mind to understand.
She could be on to something though—
she was the only researcher in the far northern state of Maine.
“Wait, Brooklynn!” I said just
thinking of something. “I found a hidden cave entrance this morning. I’m going
there now, if you’re interested[T1] .”
From
the fifth tree down Brooklyn popped her head out from behind a bush that she
had been hiding behind. Sounding excited Brooklyn shouted “Really, where?”
“OH, it’s just on the other side of
Fire Drop Ridge.” I tried keeping my voice casual.
“What!” Brooklynn exclaimed. “Mom said
to never go past the ridge top— are you crazy, she might really ground you, or
maybe send you to live with great aunt Vivian.”
Having been staring off in the
direction of the forbidden zone, I turned towards Brooklynn waving a hand
dismissively as if the dangers were nonexistent.
From the shrubs behind Brooklynn a
black shape skulked out from its shadowed hiding spot. Seeing its prey so
vulnerable, it crouched for a spring attack.
I gasped then reached for my strapped
on knife. With wide eyed terror I realized that I must have dropped it climbing
the cliff back to the top of Fire drop ridge.
Turning around to see what had gotten me
into such a panic Brooklynn inhaled suddenly. “Bob, there you are.”
“Bob?” Slowly coming to my senses I
began to notice little things— like, not only is this creature a little smaller
than a black panther, but there were no black panthers in the cold north.
“Do you like it— I painted Bob black this
morning. He must have been mad about it, because he ran off right after.”
“Asherton Thomas Kincaid! I cannot
believe what I just heard.” Mother said as she stepped into view behind Bob.
“You are indeed grounded and when we get back to the cabin, I want all of your
spelunking equipment.”
“But mom.”
“No way buddy; you have gone too far
this time. I have half a mind to…”
Maxx, excited about finding the party,
was so caught up in the hunt, that when he broke into the clearing he could not
stop himself before he bowled through mom’s legs.
“Maxx!” mom screamed, as she toppled
and landed in a mangled heap.
Maxx licked her in the face in a
pitiful attempt at an apology, wagging his tail so hard it looked as though he
may lift off the ground at any moment.
She is just lucky that Maxx was not a
bulldog or some other drool happy breed. Collie-wolf mixes are definitely
smart, only big dumb brutes slobber like they’re trying to extinguish a fire in
their mouth. However, neither of those two breeds was known for much tail wagging,
he must have some terrier mixed in there somewhere.
Drawn between making a timely escape
and staying to endure what was already looking to be some serious trouble even
before the anger, frustration, and humiliation of mom’s dirt sandwich.
If I was going to have any chance of
keeping my head from being chopped off at the guillotine, I had better make
this good.
“Mom, Are you alright?” I asked with
exaggerated concern. I am sure she was fine, but she was ancient— I hoped she
didn’t break a hip like grandma Stella did last year when she fell in the
grocery store parking lot.
“You don’t have to act so concerned.
This doesn’t make what you did any worse. Oh, look at my glasses. I can’t fix
this,” she said while she dusted off the forest debris from her clothes.
“Those are your spare glasses. You
broke your others last week when you left them on the floor where you stepped
on them,” I remind her, trying to be extra helpful.
“Oh thank you for reminding me— that
you knocked my glasses off onto the floor while skateboarding in the house,
when I had just walked back into the room from turning off the water in the
bathroom, that you left on.”
Oops, that was the wrong thing to
mention— grown-ups always put the worst spin on things.
A look of excitement bloomed across
Brooklyn’s face, “Are you going to town to get new glasses mom? I need new
headphones for my iPod— ash used them to see if Nancy liked country music or
rock better.”
“Asherton, did you use your sister’s
headphones to find out what kind of music the goat likes better?”
“She ate them.” Brook told mom, as
casually as though she were telling her it might rain sometime in the future.
“Mom, it was a valid experiment. Her
milk production was running a little low. I had a theory that her mood might
even make the milk taste better.” By the look on her face she wasn’t buying it.
“A happy goat is a productive goat,” I trid one last ditch effort.
“I do have to go to town to get my new
glasses. They have been ready for almost a week now. They will have to wait two
more days though. I don’t want to make a separate trip all the way to town to
pick up Uncle George and your cousin Quinn on Tuesday.”
“You didn’t tell us Quinn was coming
with Uncle George. He is into all that karate and swords and stuff, I can’t
compete with that,” I tried explaining to mom, in hopes that I could persuade
her to call and make an excuse why we couldn’t have visitors right then.
“You don’t need to compete with him.
He is four years older than you, you are not even in each other’s weight class,
you have nothing to worry about,” she tried minimizing the obvious threat.
“Mom, it’s a kid eat kid world out
there. You need to give me a chance before throwing me to the wolves,” I pled.
“It’s a dog eat dog world,” Brooklynn
put in cheerfully.
“No one is eating anyone. Now stop
this nonsense and let’s go get the house ready for company. You two are going
to have to do most of the work. Without my glasses I won’t be able to see to
wash the dishes.”
Today started out so perfect, what
went wrong?
2.
Going To Town
It turned out that mom could do dishes
without her glasses; she could also find more to clean as well. We spent the next
two days cleaning everything; from the window culverts to the shutter screens;
from the carpets to the ceiling fans.
“Why do we need such a big cabin since
we spend all of our time outside finding research material?” I asked mom, not really
caring that when winter was here I wouldn’t want to go outside in the freezing
cold after dark. The days are just too short and the nights too long in the
winter.
“Well I guess we could go and move
into a cave with the bats and other unclean animals. We could rut around in the
mud and even hibernate in the winter like some filthy animal,” mom responded
with sarcastic disgust.
“I just mean it’s a lot to clean,
don’t get all cavewoman on us. I wore my fingerprints off from scrubbing the
tile floors in the three bathrooms, two of which were only used when guests came.”
“Just go brush your teeth; your sister
is already in the truck waiting for us while you rant on about not wanting to
clean one more thing for the rest of the year.”
I guess she was right about cleaning
my teeth, I wouldn’t want them to rot away; I just couldn’t live without being
able to chew on a steak. We tried being vegetarians last summer when we let mom
talk us into it. It lasted three weeks and we were ready to start eating each
other.
Brooklyn wanted to sit in the front
seat so badly that she would go out an hour before we were going to go
anywhere. I like the front seat, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not worth an
extra hour in the truck to receive the privilege of riding in the honor seat.
Besides, I can enjoy the extra room of the back seat until the ride back, when
it would be a crammed full of kids and luggage.
I wouldn’t even go, but the electronics
store and the toy store were right next to each other. How could any kid resist
that combination?
“Mom, could I drive the first few
miles, I haven’t had very much practice since dad disappeared.” That was a
little underhanded, manipulating mom by her emotions, but she never let me
drive anymore.
“Oh, well, I guess, but only to
Raven-crest Canyon Bridge. That’s six miles and as far as my nerves will last,”
she said in a weak voice.
Let’s see how Brook likes the front
seat now, “bwahaha.”
“Did you say something Ash?”
“Why no mommy, I am just brushing my teeth.”
“Oh, okay. Come to the truck when
you’re ready,” she said in a somber tone.
I really felt guilty; I really was
going to have to make it up to her. She really loves it when the family sings
those silly little songs that the rest of us hate so much on road trips. I was
going to have to initiate some of those. As a perk, Brook would be stuck
through every last one.
Now excited about the trip, I hurried
after mom and passed through the door just in time to see the priceless look on
Brooklynn’s face when she saw mom getting into the back seat.
I couldn’t help but to beam as I
slowly walked around the truck and climbed into the driver’s seat.
“I bet you manage to strut when no one
is around to see,” jabbed Brooklynn, with the sourest look on her face.
“And I bet that;” I paused remembering
the promise that I made to myself to cheer up mom. “I bet that you are the
sharpest eight year old in the world; how do you even know what strutting is?”
That should do it; a compliment of such magnitude could only change brook’s
mood back to front seat happy.
I have found that moods are often
contagious, and I did’t want moms mood to go from mournful to irritated, just
because I couldn’t control my airs of superiority. I needed for gaiety to ooze
from the seat cushions. I knew that I could play my part; I was as cheerful
about the drive as I could possibly be.
“I read that chickens strut, and you
just reminded me of The Colonel just then, the way you were walking.” She said
as she turned away trying to hide the growing pink of a blush.
“At least you compared me to the Alfa
male of the roosters. I knew you were smart.” One last compliment to set the
mood and I started the truck to begin our journey.
“He's got the whole world, in his
hands; come on, everyone now.”
I would like to have told you that the
good times rolled the whole trip, but even mom got burned out about an hour and
a half into it. Her mood did improve, so much that she let me drive longer, and
she was soon completely involved in a novel she had so little time to enjoy at
home.
Brook and I were left to our own
devices and we prized it. We planned how to survive the end of the world event
of Quinn’s arrival.
The more we thought about Quinn and
all the torchers we used to endure at his hands the faster I started driving. I
was not in a hurry to meet up with them; thankfully my driving would not speed
up the airplane, but getting there sooner would leave us more time at our
favorite stores.
I had to relinquish control of the
vehicle to mom before we got too close to town, city cops didn’t like eleven
year olds driving through town.
Mom and Brook went straight to the
optometrist for the glasses and I walked down to the electronics store for a
new transmitter to my short wave hand held radio.
Mom wanted us to always have
communication with her, in case anything happened, but my radio has been out
for a weak and Brook lost hers in the woods.
I love to see all the new things that
came out between visits to town, this iPad looks really fun; I wonder if mom
could write off an eight hundred dollar toy for a research grant.
“Did you find what you need to fix the
radio?” mom asked as she came through the door wearing her new glasses.
“Wow mom! Those are some chic glasses;
I almost wouldn’t recognize you.”
“Oh stop Ash. No; really; stop. I
don’t need to be told that ordinarily I am as fashionable as disco,” mom said
with a quick glance at the store clerk who had been staring at her since she
walked in the door.
“Hi Mrs. Kincaid, you do look
stunning,” said a pimply faced, Steve Hokinson. “You would make the girls in my
home economics class jealous.”
“Thank you Steve; that was a very nice
complement.” She responded as she handed him the money for the radio parts. “We
will probably see you again, the next time we are in town. We will probably
need new communication devices by then. Bye now.”
“Good-bye,” Steve said cheerfully,
“Robin,” he said in a slow whisper, so that none could hear.
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