Date: Sun, 22 Aug 2004 18:57:56 -0600 From: Karla Schulz Subject: Carrots and Celery Part Three Chapter 22 I meant to be more snappy with the posting, but there were some complications with the protuguese mob and I'm sure you all understand. Also, in a moment of shameless self promotion, if you're looking for something to brighten up your sad pathetic lives and you haven't ALREADY discovered the joys of The Preppie and the Punk (a ridiculous story I wrote in the 11th grade which is now complete and living at nifty) you could like, go discover those joys and read it. When not sending me adoring fan mail and watching the Princess Bride that is. Kill your brother. It'll make you feel better. --- I wake up on the seventh day, after I've spent a week in my room, having made it my own little universe of misery and emotional wreckage, and it's that first moment that I'm fully conscious again, that I finally know. I know what I feel and I know what I have to do about it. In that spirit, I get up and march into Kyle's room. He's asleep in his bed and I cough loudly. No response. I cough again. He stirs, but then just turns onto his side. I sigh, and then shout, "KYLE!" He jerks awake, wide eyed and mildly bewildered. "Carrots?" He forces himself into a sitting position, still half asleep but trying to be supportive big brother guy, assuming I'm here because I'm having some kind of crisis. "Kyle?" "What?" He answers gently. "We gotta go on a road trip." "What?" More awake and confusion pushing away most of the gentleness. "Seriously. There's nothing else for it. Start packing while I go to go buy some food for the road." "What?!" "Calgary. We have to go to Calgary and beat some sense into Celery." It's the longest most confused pause in the history of long confused pauses. Then Kyle nods. "Alright." I pause a moment in his doorway, thinking. "Do you think the Le Baron will make it all the way to Calgary?" He shrugs. "It's never failed me in the past." I nod. "That's what I thought. I'm going to HARRY's. Anything specific you want me to get?" Kyle stares for awhile, but I'm guessing it's just taking him a little while to get his mind around the idea that all this is actually happening. I can relate. "It'll take us like 20 hours." I shrug. "Can't think of anyone I'd rather spend the time with." Which is sort of a quote from Boy Meets World I inform you helpfully. He laughs soundlessly. "Jonas will kill us if we don't take him along of course." I shrug again. "Of course." "I'll call him." "You do that." I can only assume he did indeed do just that, because when I come back with bags of chips and granola bars and bottled juice, Jonas is sitting on Kyle's living room floor with his eyes closed and legs crossed muttering about Vasskez insanity as my beloved older brother wanders around snatching articles of clothing from here there and everywhere and rolling them up before shoving them into his duffle bag. "Hey." I say, putting the bags down and pausing to toss Kyle the pair of socks I notice lying on the floor at my feet. "Thanks," He mutters, his brow knitted. "Jo, do you know where my grey sweater is? The ribbed one with the V-neck?" Jonas looks mildly insulted. "I'm not your mother -- what do I know about where your clothes are?" Kyle forces a look of infinite patience onto his face. "Cause every time you come over you steal it?" Jonas gives this a moments consideration, and then nods. "Right you are. It's on your record player." Kyle disappears into his bedroom and returns with the sweater in question. "I have no time to come up with a snappy comment about your resemblance to anyone's mother, but consider it heavily implied eh Jo?" Jonas rolls his eyes and rises to his feet. "Yes. In fact, let's all take a moment to remember our mothers, shall we? As in, our mothers who in no way are going to allow us to suddenly up and go to Calgary in the middle of May, with our graduation and final exams rapidly approaching?" "You don't think we'll be able to talk mom around?" I consult Kyle, the only one this doesn't actually apply to. He shrugs. "I think we should ask dad first. You come up with some logic so we can appeal to him with it. And then mom will agree just cause of like, you being her beloved son and with the not wanting you to be miserable." I feel he's broken down the situation exceptionally well. "That's brilliant Kyle, but what about those of us who don't happen to have such reasonable parents?" Kyle is all about the shrugging. "I want you to come along, I think we need you for this one, but you're right. In no way are your parents going to be down for this escapade. I'd happily see you say `fuck you mom and dad' and come anyway, but I'm trying very hard to understand that that's not an overly attractive option for you. But basically, it's a choice you need to make." "I hate everything." Jonas mutters petulantly and kicks the couch. Kyle smiles kinda worriedly and pulls him into a make shift hug. "C'mon goldie... it's a rescue mission. Giving a big `shove off' to the idea of all of us being fragmented. I want you to come back too. I need you back." "I haven't been anywhere," Jonas protests, burrowing a little deeper into Kyle's hold. He says it like he knows it isn't true. "Come back to me," Kyle whispers into his neck, obviously forgetting about his plan to let Jonas decide things on his own. Jonas makes a sad sound and Kyle kisses the top of his head. I'm about to make a stealthy exit when they break reluctantly apart. Jonas kicks Kyle sharply in the shin. "That was a rotten trick you big lumberjack." "Are you coming?" Jonas rolls his shoulders a couple times to relieve some tension. "Course I am, berk." Kyle flashes the ceiling a grin, and then returns his face to Jonas, mock innocent. Like we all didn't just see him do that. "Good." He takes a breath and gets into action-guy mode. "Now here's what I think we should do. We should just pack up and get everything ready, Jonas, there's no way your parents are going to say yes, so don't ask, just leave them a note or phone message or something telling you where you've gone, and that you're safe. The `fuck you' part is totally up to your discretion. Care, mom and dad are both at work yeah? So we just stop by the bakery before we go. That way they see we're serious and everything, plus, quick get away." "The twins are home right?" "Somewhere I think, sure." "We should tell them before we go." I've incurred enough of their wrath lately, I'm not looking to add to that. Kyle considers this. "Yeah, we should. Even though they'll instantly want to come and may very well stow away somehow. Which they absolutely cannot do -- mom would stand in front of the car if we even attempted it with Jon and Dave along for the ride." "Right." "So we should go find them?" "Indeed." Jonas, who has been watching these interactions with mild disbelief, follows us silently. We find the twins, not surprisingly, in their room. They're lying on Dave's bed, foreheads pressed together, talking in low voices. They both look pretty upset. "Hey bros." I say, a touch awkwardly. They look up. "You guys okay?" Cause they're looking like they're not in a big way. "We're fine," Jon answers shortly as they start sitting up. I can't help notice how close they're continuing to sit, the way Dave is leaning into Jon slightly. I share a look with Kyle. Definitely not fine. "I know I'm not the poster child for sharing with the family lately, but if you guys are in trouble or something, I want to help." I wish my credibility wasn't quite so non-existent. Not that I have anyone but myself to blame. "It's nothing you need to worry about. We're just trying to figure something out and it's got us a little spun." Jon again. Dave has closed his eyes, and his head has fallen onto Jon's shoulder. "Dave?" Kyle is approaching the bed, looking at him anxiously. "What? He's telling the truth." Dave defends, snapping out of his lassitude. "No one's dying, no one's impregnated. It's just something with Braden, nothing any of you need to know about." Jon makes their `no comment' position infinitely clear. Jonas, who hasn't said anything or really even made a change in facial expression since we came in here just sniffs and crosses his arms. "Do you know something?" Kyle demands. Jonas flutters his eye lashes innocently. "What would I know?" The twins reveal nothing. "Look, there had to be a reason you all came in here other than to interrogate us. What's wrong now?" Jon asks darkly. Dave kicks him, causing Jon to smile slightly. They're bizarre behavior renders me lost for words. "We're going to Calgary. To... `see' Celery." Kyle supplies. That gets their attention. "We're coming." "You can't. Look, seriously. We want to do it right, but you know mom and dad will never go for it." I say earnestly. "They won't let us go either probably, if we suggest it even." Kyle adds. "Please don't try to hide in the trunk." Jonas has the last word. "Okay?" When they don't respond. They look at each other, and sigh in tandem. Then, in unison, "Hoosha." "What?" "We're twins! We can't use words to communicate no one else understands every once in awhile?" Dave grumbles. "By all means. Does hoosha in anyway mean -- we promise to not stow away and will hold down the fort while you dudes are away?" "In this case, yes." "Okay then." We actually somehow manage to merit hugs good bye. Grudgingly given, but given none the less. And Jonas even gets a smile. I'm beginning to suspect my brothers don't really like me, but tell myself I'll have to worry about that later. Which, come to think of it, may be the reason. We stop by Jonas's house so he can leave the short note he dashed off and need to be hugged rather bracingly following it's completion, and I've worked up a good sense of dread by the time we pull into the employees only spot behind the bakery. However, as soon as we step through the door I know they know, which leads to shock, which is distracting. Mom clucks at me as she wipes her hands on her apron, ridding herself of excess flour. "What -- am I not your mother? I've been around kiddo." She hugs me then, and it's more comforting that things you can't have every second of your life should be allowed to be. "You I suppose knew even before her?" Retreating as always into feeble joking once I've been released for the hug and am facing my dad. He raises his eye brows and `hmms' innocuously. I forgo smart ass remarks and just hug him instead. This is something I've done it so rarely in my life it really should feel awkward, but somehow it doesn't. Kyle is drawn aside briefly to receive the standard lecture about safety and looking out for us and calling regularly, and then miraculously we're back out the doors. Jonas, who stayed in the car for a multitude of reasons, is unable or disinclined to hide the look of disbelief marred with jealously upon seeing us emerge with `parentally endorsed road trip' smiles. We feel he's entitled to these emotions, so we don't say anything, although our smiles slip from our faces and Kyle momentarily squeezes his hand once back in the drivers seat. On the road once we've reached the city limits and still nothing has been said, Jonas takes it upon himself to say, "So, this is like -- crazy. We all know that right?" "Sure." Kyle. "And everybody's cool with that?" "Pretty much, yeah." Me. "There is no plan, there is no acknowledged purpose -- no IDEA even, of WHY exactly we're even going." "You've nailed it Jonas, bravo." Kyle. "Ga! One of you has to snap out of this and explain how the hell that can be possible! Carrots you can't just... I mean you must know--" "No, Jonas, I don't. And I can't. If I start thinking about why I need to do this and all the reasons why I should and shouldn't I'll never actually do it. And I HAVE to do it." "You're just not going to let yourself think about why." "That's right." "Terrific." "I think you'll find that it is."