The text message I received was from my Great Aunt Maggie, the Supreme Mother of the Genome clan. She instructed me to ferry my god-niece Lupe from the old metrop of Durham, where she attends the School of Science and Math, to Shady Grove Village, my ancestral home and the domain of my mother's family.
Well, we can't allow aunts to order us around like they're our mothers. We'd never hear the last of it. One day it would be this and another day--well, I'm sure you get my meaning and, if I know anything about you after all the years, you agree with me in toto.
As I considered my next move, I received a text from Lupe, the 11-year-old geezer mentioned in Aunt Maggie's text. Her text read, On my way up. Don't make me wait!!! Did I mention that she's 11?
The very next moment, my doorbell tootled, and when I opened the door, there on the threshold, was a half-pint version of the maximum recommended adult dose of young Twee.
She wore spider-crushing combat boots in a sort of silvery-black color with red socks. A plaid shirt in red and black was tied around denim shorts and a long-sleeved black t-shirt. A wide-brimmed black hat with a red band was pushed back from her face. It was a big morning for red and black.
"Don't make me wait?" I said in a light rebuff.
"I know how you can be," she said as she walked into the room.
"How I can be..." I said with more than a little topspin. "Is this the beginning of a beautiful conversation?"
"Ha!" she said. "You big jamoke!" She gave me a punch in the arm and asked, "How are you?" She threw her arms around my waist, and my mood was instantly elevated. She has that power with me. You see, this Lucy Lupe Mankiller and I go way back. Well, we go back 11 years.
"Jamoke?" I said. "I'm not familiar with the term."
She ignored the remark. Her attention seemed to have been arrested if that's the word. She was scrutinizing my face. She stepped back to get a better view.
"What happened to your caterpillar?"
"Oh, that little thing," I said. "I shaved it this morning. I thought it was time for a new look. You don't see many upper lips these days or chins for that matter. Adds a bit of the debonair to your old God-uncle, don't you think?"
"No," she said.
"No? That's disappointing. I was hoping for your approval. Why don't you like it?"
"Well," she said, "you don't have an upper lip."
"Oh, that does hurt," I said. "It may be thin, Miss Mankiller, but it's there. And we may still be looking for my chin, but I do have an upper lip, and right now, I'm struggling to keep it stiff."
She let that one slide and changed the subject. "I'm happy that you're going to the village with me."
"Don't get your hopes up, I don't plan to be there for long."
"How long will you be staying then? You'll be there through the Solstice?"
"Absolutely not," I said. "The last thing I want is to get stuck playing the part of the Fool in the Winter Festival."
"Too bad," she said. "Nothing exciting ever happens in the village," she said and then added the footnote, "unless you're there, of course. You have a special knack for adding interest."
"I know why you say that with that silly grin, young Lupe," I said. "And for the millionth time, it was not my fault."
"Burning down the outdoor guides' dormitory?" she said. "How's that not your fault?"
"I've explained repeatedly," I said, "that I had no choice in the matter. I was forced to make a decision on the spur of the moment. Do you know how difficult it can be to choose one course of action over another in a flash? I did my best. I considered this and that, and the best course of action seemed to be burn the place down to hide the evidence."
"Hmmm," she said with a meditative nod. She seemed to be assessing the logic behind my reasoning. Or should I say, the reasoning behind my logic? I'm never sure which way it should go. Leave a comment below with your suggestions.
"Don't make me wait?" I said in a light rebuff.
"I know how you can be," she said as she walked into the room.
"How I can be..." I said with more than a little topspin. "Is this the beginning of a beautiful conversation?"
"Ha!" she said. "You big jamoke!" She gave me a punch in the arm and asked, "How are you?" She threw her arms around my waist, and my mood was instantly elevated. She has that power with me. You see, this Lucy Lupe Mankiller and I go way back. Well, we go back 11 years.
"Jamoke?" I said. "I'm not familiar with the term."
She ignored the remark. Her attention seemed to have been arrested if that's the word. She was scrutinizing my face. She stepped back to get a better view.
"What happened to your caterpillar?"
"Oh, that little thing," I said. "I shaved it this morning. I thought it was time for a new look. You don't see many upper lips these days or chins for that matter. Adds a bit of the debonair to your old God-uncle, don't you think?"
"No," she said.
"No? That's disappointing. I was hoping for your approval. Why don't you like it?"
"Well," she said, "you don't have an upper lip."
"Oh, that does hurt," I said. "It may be thin, Miss Mankiller, but it's there. And we may still be looking for my chin, but I do have an upper lip, and right now, I'm struggling to keep it stiff."
She let that one slide and changed the subject. "I'm happy that you're going to the village with me."
"Don't get your hopes up, I don't plan to be there for long."
"How long will you be staying then? You'll be there through the Solstice?"
"Absolutely not," I said. "The last thing I want is to get stuck playing the part of the Fool in the Winter Festival."
"Too bad," she said. "Nothing exciting ever happens in the village," she said and then added the footnote, "unless you're there, of course. You have a special knack for adding interest."
"I know why you say that with that silly grin, young Lupe," I said. "And for the millionth time, it was not my fault."
"Burning down the outdoor guides' dormitory?" she said. "How's that not your fault?"
"I've explained repeatedly," I said, "that I had no choice in the matter. I was forced to make a decision on the spur of the moment. Do you know how difficult it can be to choose one course of action over another in a flash? I did my best. I considered this and that, and the best course of action seemed to be burn the place down to hide the evidence."
"Hmmm," she said with a meditative nod. She seemed to be assessing the logic behind my reasoning. Or should I say, the reasoning behind my logic? I'm never sure which way it should go. Leave a comment below with your suggestions.
"Stick with that story if it suits you," she said. Then, with a big grin, she added, "You're like the snake that slithered into Eden and caused all the trouble for Adam and Eve, aren't you? I can't wait to see what you do for an encore."
"Oh? I don't know," I said in a meditative state of my own, "so you think slithered is the right verb do you?"
"Oh? I don't know," I said in a meditative state of my own, "so you think slithered is the right verb do you?"