Stand Alones

Warm face wake ups were my favorite. The sun made the insides of my eyelids light up like a “Good Morning!”. And it was! This was just the beginning of what I knew would be a great day. I squinted to the sun with a “How do you do?” and got ready. Normally PJs are just fine for breakfast, but I didn’t want to make the day wait. Today I had to dress for anything. Tutu, leggings, and Star Wars t-shirt. The force was strong with me today. This wasn’t like school days or doctor days when I had to become a worker bee--single minded in my task and all adulty. I was a proper worker bee when Mom or Mum needed it. I buzzed as we walked to our destinations and hummed louder as we whipped around corners. Today, not only did I NOT have to be a bee, but this was patently my day. The Mamas had no problem letting me explore when we had our out-and-about Saturdays.

Fully dressed, I opened the bedroom door. Mr. Scruff McCat was there! I had been giving him dancing lessons recently and he’d been doing quite well for a cat. I reached out to pick him up and take him for a twirl with me, but he wriggled and wiggled and slipped out of my arms like jelly. Odd. Well, the day couldn’t very well stop here. 

Spinning in circles to make sure my tutu was warmed up, I made my way to the bathroom but this morning I bumped into the wall. Had the wall moved since yesterday? I got down on the floor and looked along the bottom edge for signs of relocation. 

“Reah.” called mom from the kitchen, no doubt alerting me to the appearance of frosted flakes waiting on the table. 

I hopped up and bounced into the bathroom to brush my teeth. Very neatly like Mom had showed me, I squeezed the toothpaste out onto the bristles of the toothbrush. Smelled funny. I plopped it into my mouth only to take it out again. “You are most certainly not bubblegum flavored.” I scolded the paste. “This is unacceptable.” 

That ought to have set things straight but the moment I put it back in my mouth it was still mint flavored. No time to argue with the toothpaste, the flakes could be getting soggy without me. They got sad when I left them alone there too long. Sad frosted flakes were not as yummy.

Brush, spit, brush, spit. That was two minutes right? I rinsed and flew into the kitchen. Just as I had suspected. Sad flakes, but with each spoonful I looked each flake in the flakeface and gave it its census number. One. Two-three-four-five. By the bottom of the bowl, I couldn’t believe it. I even picked up the bowl just to look inside to see if I had missed some. Nope. Only 175 flakes? Each Saturday Flake Census came up with AT LEAST 190. I slammed down my spoon and declared to the kitchen, “There is an oddity in the world, and I shall find it!” 

My mom, bemused, looked at my mum, “Well, I guess we need to put on her boots today. The world is a large place to go searching for an oddity.”

Once I had gotten the mamas properly briefed on the happening of the day so far, we stepped out of the house all bundled up in jackets, scarves and hats--my hat being a proper sleuthing hat I got on my last birthday. I set out to solve The Mystery of the Oddity. I said it in italics or bold or underline whenever I said it, because it was a novel. Maybe unwritten but not unlived.

Mom popped a Starburst into her mouth and offered Mum a red one. Mum only eats the reds and pinks. Then Mom had me close my eyes and open my mouth. Mmmmm. Yellow. 

“Where do we go?” asked Mum.

I pulled out my magnifying glass to pick up the trail. I didn’t have a real magnifying glass so I brought a metal nut that was extra from a piece of Ikea furniture. It had a hole in the middle that I could look through. I tied a piece of string around it so it would double as a pocket watch. 

On the ground just ahead I spotted a few ants marching along. Very normal. Perhaps too normal. I looked up gallantly with my magnifying glass still in front of my eye and pointed along the line of ants, “This way!” As I tracked my prey, the Mama’s walked behind holding hands and bantering, only interfering when I strayed too close to the road. 

We ended up at the park. As Mamas sat down on a nearby bench, I found the ant hill and watched the comings and goings of the little creatures. Strange. They had so many legs. They could easily cartwheel around. If I had even ONE more leg I could do a full cartwheel without losing my balance. They would be like tiny wheels zooming around. I pulled out my magnifying glass and lingered another moment. Odd.

In the background I heard Mom start choking. Loud. Mum was patting her on the back sturdily but Mom was growing red. I ran over. Just as I reached the park bench, a small orange rectangle launched out of Mom’s mouth and landed on the concrete, making a little dark circle around it where the drool was dripping off. 

As the moment exhaled, Mum started laughing, “I told you those things would be the death of you!”

I inspected the orange glob on the ground through my magnifying glass.

Mom shoved the rest of the package of Starbursts into her pocket and grinned sheepishly in between sputtering coughs. Mum looked over at me and said soothingly, “Sorry sweetie. We’ve got to go find your Mom some water. I hope this doesn’t hinder your investigation too much.”

I gave a robust and intentional laugh, “Not at all, my dear Mum-son.”

Mum hmmmed as she stood up and gathered her bag. Hmmmms were very promising. “How about we go by the taco shop down the block and grab a quick snack. I’m sure they have water there.”

Mom and I both grinned like jackals. Had Mom intentionally choked on a Starburst just for a taco? Odd.

 A block, three tacos, and a shared coke later, Mamas and I were just walking. Because they weren’t going anywhere, I didn’t have to stay close and buzz all the time. Instead I would run ahead a few feet and examine a weed here or a piece of gum on the sidewalk there. But as soon as Mamas caught up, I would run ahead again. We ebbed and flowed in dashes and driftings. I stopped at a chainlink fence and curled my fingers around the wires with my nose stuck through one of the holes. Face smooshed to the fence I watched a group of boys in blue shorts and knee high socks playing soccer. If you could call it playing. They were all so serious. A group of girls and boys sat on the sidelines in perfect rows, all watching the spectacle without so much as a cheer. One boy on the sidelines looked at me and stuck his tongue out playfully. Within moments a smack caught him in the head as a elderly woman in a long pleated skirt started berating him. Mamas had stopped walking and were standing behind me looking through the fence.

“Mamas, what’s wrong with them?”

Mom bounced back a, “what do you mean?”

“Well,” I racked my brain for a finite reason. “They all seem so sad.”

Mum smiled but it wasn’t a real smile. It didn’t touch her eyes. “This is a rather strict school, Reah. Good, but strict. And that can be a little smothering.”

I let go of the fence and waved at the boy, knowing he couldn’t wave back. “Did you go to a strict school Mum?”

“This very one.” She said simply. Then she scooped me up and started giving tons of tickle kisses. 

Mom planted a kiss on my head and said, “Let’s head home, guys. I don’t think one taco was quite enough.”

It had been a long but satisfying day. I shed my coat and boots, and ran to the table. Meanwhile, Mamas made a game out of gathering up and putting away the boots, coats, bags and supplies from the day trip, all with plenty of kisses and laughs. Normally I would go play with them, but I had some thinking to do. After cleanup, dinner was underway. As Mum chopped the vegetables, Mom readied the frying pan for stir fry. Mom was always the big cook and Mum was the tiny helper cook. Maybe one day Mum could also be a big cook, but right now she made noodles too squishy and everything tasted kind of funny. Not the exciting and new funny when you haven’t tried stuff before, but funky funny when normal stuff tasted kind of gross. I didn’t go and help peel or gather like I usually did. I kept my post at the table, hat pulled down low over my brow, mushing my fingers into any scratches or crevices on the wood table. My eyes followed specs of dust through the afternoon light and tried to trace them past that into the room. I wondered. And puzzled. And thought. And drifted. The honey colored light of the fading day made it an easy current of thought to float on. 

DING DING! Mom rang the dinner bell and I hoisted myself up from my chair. We grabbed bowls of food, forks and napkins and headed for the table. Mum brought over a pitcher of punch--yum! With everyone seated, we all said one thing they were thankful for today, 

“Starburst.” Mom would.

“Adventures,” was Mums.

I thought for a moment. “Questions.”

Then the eating started. Mamas were chatting about adult things, so I allowed my mind more time to wind through the day’s findings. 

Then Mom turned to me, “So, Nancy Drew, what did you find?” 

As if! “Sherlock Holmes, if you don’t mind.” 

Mamas giggled before putting on very serious faces. Mum said, “Our apologies, Master of Deduction. So, did you find the inconsistency?”

“The Oddity,” I corrected, as I stood on my chair and held my fork up to my mouth like a pipe. “Well, it was hard to find. It wasn’t the ants or the sad kids. Nor was it the Starburst. See, these were merely symphonies”

Mum’s eyebrows crunched, “Symptoms?”

My eyes and body clicked to attention at the interruption, “And might you know!? Was it you!? The Oddity!?” My accusing fork stood stalk still pointing at the accused. Mum’s face filled with melodramatic shock, “Ms. Holmes, was it I?”

I retracted the fork to slink back into a posture of brooding thought. It was the same posture I used when I stood on the end table trying to be a gargoyle. My tone was deep, “At first I thought so. For it’s you who buys the toilets,” Mum winced for want of correcting but maintained silence, “and my toothpaste has changed. But I then realized, you buy what we need, so it couldn’t have been you if the needs were at fault! No, it was not you, Mum.” Mum gave a histrionic sigh of relief.

I turned towards Mom sharply, and pointed with my fork, “Was it you!” Mom’s hands shot up in a show of innocence, and a face that matched. I brought the pipe back to my mouth, “At first I thought so, because you were the one choking today, and who better to mastermind than someone who looks like a victim. You the very Mama who sent me looking for The Oddity!? What a twist!” I twirled in my chair along with the word. Mom reached out instinctively as Mum laughed out loud. But my balance was as impeccable as my dinner-time inquisition. I stopped on a dime, eyes looking off into the distance as I announced. “But nay! It twas not you. You are tooooo,” the extended vowels were accentuated by a fork twirling the air like loose spaghetti, “momly to cause such havoc.” 

I turned to the unsuspecting Mr. Scruff, who was diligently purring at my legs in hopes of a scrap of food, “Was it YOU!” Mr. Scruff’s purr evaporated and his ears flattened. Reah was relentless, “Refusal to dance is mighty fishy! But no, it wasn’t you either! Someone caused you to not want to dance. So who caused the dance frustration? Who needed the mint toothpaste? Who spun into the wall? Who counted the flakes thereby making them an odd number?” 

The Mama’s caught the rift of the climax and fed the fatal question, “Who?” 

I put one foot on the table, a mirror reflection of George Washington. Mom discreetly scooted any nearby plates away. “IT WAS ME!” 

Surprised gasps filled the air. I contemplated doing another twist, but decided looking triumphant was more important.  

Mom kept her awestruck tone, “What is the penalty for such things sleuth?” 

George Washington’s chest deflated and the foot came down off of the table. I reflected on this momentarily, letting the fork dangle in my mouth, “Nothing. The world needs oddities. Who else is going to tell the ants they can cartwheel? And remember how to have fun properly? And who will make every cornflake count? Who would teach the cat how to ramba?” 

Mom nodded understandingly. But Mum was not satisfied, “Hmmmm, well, you may be the sleuth, but I’m the law around here. And there is quite a penalty for being an oddity.” 

Uh oh. “mmmm?”

“Ice cream.”