The Firefly Field Theory

|3| You're Going To Hurt Yourself: Part I

Why it's you again! Great to see you!

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PART I:

 If she keeps thinking so much I worry she might actually figure it out. Mom what are you going to do?

 Go on take the bait.

 Fall for it already.

 She keeps staring at the iPad screen, which at present is a chess board.

Then she finally moves her fair queen diagonally down four dark boxes and takes the knight I had set up as bait for her.

Perfect. Now my rook can get her queen with just a single clean beeline because she is standing were my murdered knight was. Just as planned.

Then as my master move I capture her queen and she gasps in surprise, it is a fake gasp of course but it inflates my ego, she honestly did not reason before she made that move. Now all she has is a fair little pawn and a fairly weak king, a pitifully helpless pairing.

 She lets out a sigh that I can comically interlink with two situations and the situations happen to be very different in terms of sentiment, one of them when you wear your favourite summer dress to go out and it starts to rain (I picked this up from chick flick I accidentally saw due to boredom) or when you bump into Harry Styles at Starbucks (I picked this up when a girl kept babbling about bumping into Harry Styles at Starbucks).

Needless to say I being a normal girl living a normal life with my normal looks and clothing (mostly  sweat pants and T shirts) can't relate to the two situations.

"Check Mate."

This will be the third time. I assume the silence speaks for itself; she is on the losing end again.

 “Now what? Should I forfeit? There isn’t one reasonable move that I can do now.” she says.

 “Fine then you win again, I didn't know you were so good, why didn’t you join a school chess club or something?”

 Because 1. Your being this terrible is what makes me look so good, sorry mom. 2. To join a chess club you have to be an absolute virtuoso to ever fit in and since being exceptionally good is not a specialty. 3. I had the reputation of a certified misfit and socially awkward weirdo and I like to believe that sucks marginally less than the reputation of a certified misfit and socially awkward weirdo who plays chess.

 “No reason.” I finally answer.

 “Sam we should start getting ready the flight leaves at five twenty five,” she turns to look at the wall clock

Why hasn't her neck snapped yet? Honestly, half the reason she sucked so bad, had to be her turning to stare at the clock before every stupid move. It was some sort of lucky sight piece except it wasn't she still lost to me. In class I used to do that, check the freakin time all the freakin time but I did that just to encourage time to move it's ass. That did'nt happen.

 Mom is nervous so I suppose her reasons are all different together .

She gets up and while she walks into her bedroom she says, “The airport is half an hour drive away.”

 I have heard this more than once today, when I woke up this morning, a Friday, only a  day after the great prom incident. I found mom in the kitchen and as soon as she saw me she ushered me back to bed and said I should sleep a little more so I can stay up longer after midnight. It was already ten thirty, but I stayed in bed for another two hours, when I got out of my room mom was nowhere to be seen, I got something to eat and went back to bed. Around two I got out again and still no sign of mom, so I checked her room, and she was dead to the world. I couldn’t believe she is actually sleeping so much, unlike me someone has had a great start to a much awaited vacation. I made my way back to my room, and went to sleep again.

  I dreamt the strangest dream after that.  In my dream it was completely dark, so I couldn’t see a thing but I somehow new that I was in a field, as I began to look around I spotted a little shinning light a few feet away, so I paced to it but once I reach it , it just stops shinning, I looked around again and then spotted another light, and then another, I kept staring into the darkness. Looking for the little glowing bulbs, and then suddenly there is no more shinning, no more bulbs. And then I heard myself say,

 ”Until all the fireflies lose their light.”

 At first I didn’t know what to make of it, but while I brushed my teeth, I thought maybe the firefly light could be a beacon of hope, because, well isn’t hope always expressed by the ray of light. Anyway I am a big believer that dreams indicate something important so I wasn’t about to let it go. I had to preoccupy my mind with thoughts of other lame things so I could stop myself from thinking about the Lord of lame things, the-stupid-drunk-ex-friend-explosion-at-my-doorstep. 

  I went to the kitchen and had lunch with mom at three. I told her I couldn’t sleep any more than I had, she got me a NyQuil and that pretty much solved the problem, before I dozed off I thought about my dream again, was I actually thinking that this trip could help me fix myself, and all I could do was hope until all the fireflies lose their light? Was that what it meant? I woke up at seven thirty only to experience what is called a bed rash, terrible breath and it felt like one half of my head had accumulated deposits of marbles in it.

 There was only one solution, I got out of bed, grabbed my comforter and headed for the living room sofa, mom was awake and switching channels. We watched Master chef together. By nine, I got really bored and asked for a game of chess, and since there is an app for everything in this world, we downloaded a chess game for moms’ iPad. She prepped me for the whole plan for tonight multiple times during the first and second games, by the third she stopped because she had lost the first two, and it was starting to set in that she had to do something and fast.

 Mom’s best friend Zoe Vittachi was the all time hero in the whole thing. Since she was the only one mom could trust with keys to the apartment, the keys to the car, the drive to the Airport and off course with the most important post departure job, watering mom’s plants. Aunty Zoe could set fire to the apartment, smash the car into a streetlamp, throw an amnesia act and forget the way to Orlando International Airport but if she fails to take excellent care of mom’s plants I can’t guarantee her safety. No one who knows of my mom’s absolute obsession with greenery can.

 Mom said she’ll be here by four fifteen a.m, and that was the dead line, before that time, we both had to be absolutely ready to go. The things we had to get done included, checking our carry-ons, charging my laptop and our cell phones, getting showered and dressed, getting something to eat, tidying up the place, double checking our stuff again and again until it’s actually time to leave. Although I carried out the furry nocturnal routine and didn’t leave bed almost all day, I'm still tired and I don't want to exert so much, but mom keeps checking and double checking the passports every time she goes to the bathroom that I begin to think that being any less enthusiastic may not prove to be the best strategy.

 If we leave by four fifteen as planned we should be there fifteen minutes before five. We get up and head to our rooms after my final win, I do all the things mom told me to do and get into the shower, after that I check everything I packed hours ago, when I get out of my room, I head for the kitchen to make myself some coffee.

  I hear a thud followed by an ouch.

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