Our house sat on the forest end of Windfall Drive. There were eleven and a half houses on our side of the street and twelve on the other. The "half" was because of a house on the corner of the block, owned by two elderly ladies who were both named Miss Trinket. They were identical twins and didn't seem to like anyone, most of all each other. Miss Trinket got her mail addressed to Windfall Drive and her sister, Miss Trinket, insisted on getting her mail addressed to Slope Street. According to my dad, it all started forty years ago with an argument over who should mow the lawn.
"Miss Trinket doesn't think she should do it because Miss Trinket has slightly longer legs than her, and it would take her less time. However, Miss Trinket thinks Miss Trinket should do it because she has a bad back and Miss Trinket doesn't. Ever since the argument started, they refuse to live at the same address, so Miss Trinket changed hers to Slope Street. Understand?" my dad asked. My answer was always no, no matter how matter times he explained it.
Sometimes their grass would get so long that Soy refused to walk by. "Who knows what's inside there?!" he would say. Most likely it was just bugs and maybe snakes, and Soy liked both of them. Still something about not being able to see inside rubbed Soy the wrong way, so we took the long way around or went through the woods instead. Besides that, there was always a Miss Trinket outside on the porch waiting to get mad about something. They yelled at the mailman every single day for scaring their dog, Marshall. He was a small border collie with white and black hair, and he was always laying down next to one of them. I sometimes wondered if he could tell them apart. If animals really could talk, that might have been my first question.
Once a summer, my dad sent me over to mow their lawn for them, secretly hoping to make our side of the street an even twelve again (he said that the other side of the street looked down on us). Mowing their lawn didn't make our street whole, but it did make me the only person who the Miss Trinkets liked.
They would each make me a lemonade if it was a hot day, and deliver it to me when the other one wasn't around. One of the Trinkets made hers too sweet and the other made hers too tart, but when I combined them the lemonade tasted perfect. The best part was that they always paid me separately, as well.
"Remember, I'm the nice one," a Miss Trinket would say as she handed me money.
Two minutes later the other Miss Trinket would say the same thing and hand me the same amount of money. I decided that they were both the nice one, partly because it was true, but mostly because I had no way of picking.
Flying on my bed, we rocketed down the middle of Windfall Drive, past twelve houses to our left, and eleven and a half to our right. Luckily for us, there was only one person outside that day, and it was a Miss Trinket, with Marshall by her side. She was sitting on her porch with a lemonade in hand, looking out over a foot of grass.
Marshall lifted his head and wagged his tail as he looked up. Miss Trinket gave me a friendly smile and wave as we zipped by her. I waved back as best as I could from the smushed bed. She put a finger over her mouth to tell me that she knew how to keep a secret, and gave a wink. Say what you will about a Miss Trinket, but they are pretty good people to have on your side when you're flying down the street on a magical bed and don't want it getting back to your mom.
Flying was like nothing I'd ever felt before. It was like being on a roller coaster that jumped its tracks and decided to explore. My excitement changed to worry when I spotted the bookstore getting closer and closer. I'd forgotten that my street ended abruptly at Finnegan's Books, and we were running out of road. It looked like a house, but it was one story taller than all the others.
"Press the button again!" shouted Deli from behind me.
I looked above me at the smartphone, but it was hard to see now. I stretched and shimmied until I could just reach it. The brown button now read: FLOPBACK.
