Want to See a Butter Sculpture?

Saturday, January 15, 2005

It was the morning for Francis’ pine wood derby race and they were to meet at “the Boy Scout church” by eight. Grandma would be there with Krispy Kreme donuts and a lovely cottage teapot for Collette.

But that morning, Collette wondered why she hadn’t heard anything back from Diana. She had sent her second email early that morning after she had never replied to the first one on Monday. She only hoped that Diana was not so upset with the way things were going, that she didn’t have time or the heart to write her back. She knew things would settle out well in the end, but she still wanted to know what was going on, and whether she had been snowed out that much further north than they were.

The previous afternoon Collette had enjoyed a little quiet at the office and the frozen sunshine through the windows. As she sat there taking notes at the table, she saw her ring reflected on the page – silver reflection of a star-spun nebulous on the paper tablet before her. She sighed a bit, shifting her hand back and forth to change the light as it mesmerized her.

On the way back to the apartment, Carrie-Bri was driving, and told Mom, Linnea, and herself, all of her latest discovery on the Internet.

“OK, guys, I’ve just found the hottest cartoon ever,” she swirled the tires in the snow as she squealed out onto the road.

There was a generous chuckle throughout the car.

“It’s on Barbie dot com. Don’t even laugh,” her eyes twinkled. “Seriously; his name is River. I’m going to be on Barbie dot com every day.”

Collette wondered how such a statement might look on her resume to the Secret Service.

That night, OLeif, Carrie-Bri, Peter, Rose, two scuffling rowdy kittens, and herself gathered at home for a viewing of “The Village”, as it was just released on DVD that Tuesday, and Rose had never seen it. She and Carrie were unable to attend Hidden Valley with the Scouts as their payment had accidentally never been submitted, and so Joe went solo with his pals that bitter winter night.

But before, there had been a trip to Steak ‘n Shake where important matters such as Shirley Temple and salt-water bodies had been discussed over burgers and shakes. And as they talked, OLeif and Francis made mad scrambles at one another, jabs, tickles, and punches, across Collette as she sipped her soda and nibbled on the hot shoestring fries.

Finally, as the jabbing and giggles (from both boys) increased in ferocity, Collette turned to Francis calmly, saying:

“Well, you wouldn’t want to go down a dark alley alone where he is, would you?”

She jerked her thumb back to where OLeif was laughing maniacally at Francis. Collette purposely avoided eye contact with the other restaurant people at booths and behind the soda fountain.

“I won’t go in a dark alley,” Francis giggled once again as OLeif lunged once more. “I’ll just bring my M16.”

“You don’t even have one,” OLeif laughed absurdly at him.

“Then I’ll bring my cork gun.” Francis decided with another roar of laughter.

On the way out of the restaurant, OLeif promptly tore open the sleeve of his work shirt at the elbow.

“Oh well,” he said, as the bitter cold curled past his open shirt. “That should have happened a long time ago. This shirt is old.”

And then he rambled on with the others about other things on the way back home. Upon arriving, Peter was scheduled to arrive within two hours. This gave Collette plenty of time to walk another two miles between the kitchen and living room while OLeif worked on his portfolio and Carrie-Bri read of tales of unearthly phenomenon.

While she walked, of course, the family went about its business with conversations and happenings. There was always something going on, and as usual, Linnea trailed behind her, sometimes running ahead, as Collette herself tried to answer all her questions on life while furiously scribbling in her notebook and watching for traffic blocks along the way. Linnea would take a break from time to time as her heart was “beeping very fast”, but she would soon once again take up the crazy walk and the questions would continue.

“Collette,” she had to know, “can we fry green bananas?”

“Um… sure.” Collette wondered where she had thought of such a thing. “But who told you about that?”

“Oh, I heard it in Channel 9, and I know just how they do it,” she scuttled past her in a quick light step involving many rapid intervals of feet and stiff hand movements, known as the “Chinese Walk”.

She began to explain. “First we take some green bananas, like the ones on the table here.” She pointed as they went past the kitchen table. “Then we fry ’em and smash ’em and fry ’em again.” She pounded her fist into her hand for emphasis.

Meanwhile Carrie-Bri came storming through the kitchen in exasperation.

“Who ate my slipper? The one from Aunt Petunia?”

Everyone pointed to the dog, as Carrie yanked the slipper away from the guilty-eyed Trooper lying on the living room carpet. Then as she sat down on the couch with the chewed slipper, she placed it back on her foot with an angry look to the dog.

“He’s a big fat stinky,” she scolded him.

Then spying her new literature course sitting on the nearby bookshelf, she picked it up slyly and set the edge near a candle flame. Collette noticed as she went past.

“Carrie-Bri,” she spun on her heel in a turn, “what are you doing?”

“Making this look old,” she stuck her tongue out the side of her mouth a little, in anticipation, as the bright white edge of the papers slowly roasted a crispy brown.

Meanwhile, Rose was intrigued with just-released pictures of the tsunami and of a fresh avalanche in Utah. Most of the family soon gathered in behind her to see the damaging pictures on the computer screen. She also explored the trailer from Weta Workshops on the upcoming “Chronicles of Narnia” series.

“Hey, Collette, do you want to see a butter sculpture?” Rose had found more new and interesting photos on line.

“Yeah – soon as I’m done her. Seventy-four more laps,” Collette called to her as she swept past.

Then Carrie-Bri pushed her aside saying, “So do you want to see the hot guy on Barbie dot com?”

She grinned impishly as she and Rose soon involved themselves in shopping for and making over fashionable cartoons.

Linnea soon called from the refrigerator. “Collette? What’s more healthy – Gatorade or milk?”