Chapter Sixty-Two
Puck was giving me Shirley Temple faces by the patio door. I’m not really sure why, but they were dead ringers. Crackers licked his yogurt cup…
“Crackers! You’re under arrest.”
He sent her down into the basement.
After Puck did his usual rounds with Francis at church – adjusting microphones and cords, hunting up paperclips under the risers with Mrs. McCrae, etc., we got home for a light lunch. Rose had not yet seen Linnea’s braces…
“Aw, we should have just let her teeth not come in. Hey, whenever we needed a toothless prospector in a play, we could have used you!”
Because that happens a lot.
“I dreamed a dream when I had teeth!” Joe wailed. Puck tugged on a new St. Patrick’s green-striped Polo from the Puck and Grandma box. Very handsome, and just in time for my tied-for-favorite holiday. There were more gifts. Joe and Rose were already laughing. I don’t know who comes up with this stuff, but a nylon Cardinals car roof shark fin was probably the last thing I pictured when Joe told me Friday that he had a surprise waiting for me. Indeed. The Bear fixed it to the Mazda roof with accompanying suction cups. Nice. Now I’ll really be the maniac baseball fan… Carrie produced two pots of fondue, loaves of bread, and veg. There were a few discriminatory sniffs. Dad was not one of them. He ladled a plateful for himself and took a seat at the table. Carrie watched him, grinning…
“I’m proud of you, Dad. No complaints about the wine. Or the garlic.”
Dad just grinned himself. Girl Scout Cookies. I tried to comfort myself with the fact that I had just ingested 12% of the iron I should consume for the day… Puck was being held captive in the living room, and surprisingly didn’t seem to mind. His eyes grew huge in delight as Carrie conjured up a sneeze…
“She’s having a magic sneeze!” he announced.
“Ah-ah-ah… CHOOOO!… Oh, I see a something behind that plant over there.”
Puck eagerly retrieved a small black box with tag affixed – Magic Sneeze. Pennies and candy…
“Dad, could I have the strawberry candy now? You know, it’s magic candy. And the thing it was addressed to was – Magic Sneeeeeeze…”
We discussed amongst ourselves other important issues in the living room – which ones of us look older than our ages, which ones look younger. Vital statistics to analyze. Rose brought up Spain again, and something about trip funds, maybe. Or lack thereof…
“Ha ha!” Puck announced. “Now you’re trapped in St. Louis!”
“Ha ha ha!” Rose retorted. “I’ll just take your college fund and run!”
“Puck,” The Bear laughed, “you should just say, ‘Ha ha ha! What college fund?’”
We’re responsible. Then again, I’m not usually so confident in the collegiate program in general anyway, but again, another time… Anyway, Mom’s snooze was over fast. We had plans. As long as we got back in time for Joe, who had two birthday parties – 21 year-old Charlie and 25 year-old Brett Grill, and a sleepover at Yaotl’s before driving him to the airport the next morning at 5AM.
“Wanna see what I got with my Boeing points from the fan store?” Rose pushed her iPhone to me across Carrie in the big green.
Airplane bookends. What else would they sell in a Boeing “fan store”? Puck threw The Bear’s jacket over his head. He was sitting right in front of Carrie…
“No kisses, Sun,” he informed her.
“Oh, but as soon as you get out of the car…” Carrie hinted, while Rose told me about the chicken beaks and chicken feet they grind and stuff into standard cat food.
Elsa. A tiny Alaska-fisherman sort of tiny town.
“I just picture a mudslide taking out this place,” said Carrie.
Dad flew over a couple of bumps in the road, right past the house with an unusual door knocker.
“Dad! The one house I wanted to see, and you gun it?” Carrie protested.
“I love it! I love it!” Puck squealed.
Then everyone started talking about sinkholes.
“I want a house with a creek that runs through it,” said Joe.
“Too late. That stuff’s all over Pinterest,” Carrie snorted.
“I know. They stole it from me,” Joe insisted.
“No, Dad! Not that bridge!”
The “3 Ton” weight limited halted Dad right beside the Methodist church with whispy brown and white stained glass. We breathed a collective sigh of relief.
“It would just break the bridge, fall into the creek, and become the new bridge,” Carrie reasoned.
And she made a joke about a “Bald Eagle” driving the van, which was too obvious a pun to explain.
Pere Marquette. We didn’t even walk around the lodge; too crowded. But Joe took Puck up to the heights and scenic outlook at the meeting of the two rivers, while Francis and The Bear rolled snowballs down the ridge, which partially worked. Or pretended to swing Francis off the edge, by the seat of his pants. I imagined Indians hunting in the bluffs. Discarded arrowheads. Puck thundered back down from the wooded bluffs beside his dad, both digging walking sticks into the mud as they walked…
“That was my first hike!” Puck bellowed. “It made me stronger! I threw a penny into the pond and wished for a soda box!”
[Vending machine.]
Four boxes of Cecil Whittaker’s. Snuggles eating pizza on the counter… Francis kicked off the table discussion with…
“You know, they’re making new Star Warses…”
We probably discussed that way too long. Everybody has an opinion. Including myself. From worst to best…
- Episode Two: Attack of the Clones
- Episode One: The Phantom Menace
- Episode Three: Revenge of the Sith
- Episode Five: The Empire Strikes Back
- Episode Four: A New Hope
- Episode Six: The Return of the Jedi
I don’t even know why I bother with those first three, but there it is.