The Firefly Field Theory

|12| Don't You Dare Laugh: Part I

PART I:

“So how did it go?” The toned down sunshine inside the garage lights Bravo’s washed up face, she edges towards me as I pull open the side door to the minivan, that Colonel Oreo let us park in our garage.

I don’t make eye contact with her as she hands me the cooler full of ice, I duck and reach into the way back of the minivan. Placing it on the seat I say, “I don’t wanna talk about it. How did it go with you guys?” I step out of the minivan.

“Yeah, same here.” She looks away; she for some reason has the candy cane bandanna tightened around the top of her head. She hands me the other bags full of the clothing we’ve packed.

Now that I think about it, last night was a classical Parent maneuver. Divide and conquer. I have a vague feeling, this was planned out. If it was mom’s intention to get me in one very crowded corner and spill the lifetime supply of beans we had because of lack of communication. I am slightly happy. Happy to be drowning in the beans. Happy that I was wrong. That she does know how to handle situations and it was me who had locked myself from the safety a mother is designed to offer.

I felt a little giddy. No, that’s an understatement; I was overflowing with giddiness as I walked alongside her through the street, back to the house last night. We we’re holding hands, had it been an ordinary scenario, it would be downright embarrassing, an eighteen year old, who’s taller than her mom, holding her hand as she walks down the street. But it was no ordinary scenario, heck, I was on the verge of being the eighteen year old who’s taller than her mom and is holding her hand skipping down the street.

When I say, it wasn’t an ordinary scenario and I wasn’t embarrassed in the slightest way last night. That does not essentially mean that I’m not embarrassed now. I refuse to talk about it, partly because it’s one of those memories I want to take to my grave untarnished and partly because right now I’m tired. Mom and I after our unexplained and unexpected reunion stayed up pretty late just talking, and she only told me that these guys were planning to head to the stream when she shook me awake this morning.

There we’re highlights to the morning though, A stack of golden brown pancakes, dripping in maple sauce and a chunk of butter lying on top, mimicking the cherry on top that makes a teenage heart flutter. Seemed like forever had gone by since I had a good breakfast, I ate with astonishing vigor.

Z gets in the front seat, starts the minivan, “I knew it was too good to be true, the commando never drives this thing, there’s barely enough gas and we’ll have to make a stop early.” He calls out to all of us. Wall-e sits down in the passenger seat next to Z and Bravo and I sit next to each other on the middle bench. Sliding the door shut, Bravo says, “You’d think he’d show up on time, since we invited him.”

“Who’d show up on time?” Z, because he’s Z, and because he’s excited (as usual) tends to detach himself from painfully obvious facts and figures.

“The bald idiot.” Bravo mumbles, as she adjusts her sunglasses over her eyes.

“Bravo, throughout this little adventure please refrain from commenting on our best friend’s baldness.” Z says as he adjusts the side view mirrors. Wall-e twists his head back to take a look and then adds, “Did you get the sunscreen?” the boy has got the black goggles strapped around his forehead as usual, he’s wearing a loose white T-shirt, much like Z’s only his dangly arms poke out of the sleeves like broom sticks.

“Yeah.”

“And the cooler?”

“Yeah.”

“And money?”

“Yeah.”

“And your cell phones?”