I stepped off the plane into the land that my mom said was home. I hardly remembered what it was like in Oklahoma. I'd lived here until I was four. Then Daddy got relocated to the coolest city on Earth, New York, and so we moved. The best thing happened there. I became a member of the cast of Les Miserables, my very favorite musical ever. Mom and Dad got divorced when I was five. Mom and I moved to New Jersey when I was in the eighth grade. Unhappy there, Mom decided we should go back to our home state. So, we moved back here. I was sixteen now, and I only remembered a few things about Tulsa. Rex's Chicken (Daddy used to take me there after school sometimes) and the Quik-Chek on the corner where my freinds and I used to spend all our money on baseball cards were just about all I could recall. I'd been friends with two girls and a boy from my pre-school, and my mother often baby-sat for three boys who lived a few blocks away.
So here I was, back in Oklahoma, a few feet taller, a whole lot more street-wise, and complete with a New York accent. Mom helped me gather my belongings from the baggage carousel and led us to a taxi. We rode in it for a while, and finally we pulled up to a house I didn't recognize, not that I recognized anything around. "This is it," Mom said, unbuckling her seat belt and paying the cab driver. He helped us gather our luggage from the trunk and drive away as my mother and I stood on the sidewalk in front of the house surveying the place. The house was an okay size, good enough for two people, of course. There was a nice tree in front, and it looked to have a backyard that bordered the woods. Cool.
We went inside. Some of our furniture was there becuase Mom had it sent ahead or something. The rest, including my bed, would be arriving the next day. That would mean that we would have to eat out, for lack of a refrigerator, and sleep on the floor.
We spent the whole day cleaning, polishing, painting, and touching up the place. We ate dinner at a Chinese restaurant not far from "home." I slept on a pile of blankets on the floor in my room, which was the first left at the top of the stairs, with a window at the back of the house. It was a pretty nice house and all, but I wasn't used to the great lack of people and sounds at night. Mom said I'd adjust. Right.
I woke up the next morning with a pain in my back. I hobbled down the satirs to find my mother already awake and painting the living room. I rubbed my eyes sleepily, "What are you doing?"
"Painting," she said, dipping the roller into the pan of white paint.
"Mom," I said, squinting at the clock in the kitchen, "it's only seven o'clock, can't that wait?"
Not if you want to sleep in the house tonight. The palce has to air out after I'm done. Grab a roller," she said, motioning to a roller on the floor next to her.
"Umm... okay," I said, I picked up the roller and began to paint. I was thinking about how much I hated paint, the smell of paint, the look of paint, and the stains paint left on my favorite pair of sweats when Mom announced that we were done. Thank God. I took a shower and got dressed and stuff, and then went to find my mom, who was furiously scrubbing the bathroom.
"Mom, I'm bored. What do kids do for kicks around here?"
She moved a hopeful eye to the scrub brush in the bucket next to her.
"That's not quite what I had in mind. I mean, like, where's all the people?"
"Why don't you go explore the woods or something? If you're not going to help, then get out," she wiped a strand of hair from her forehead.
I shrugged and went out the back door. The garden was all bare in spots, and overgrown with weeds. Mom would probably be planting something there the next day. I decided to save her some work, and I got the spade and rake from the garage. It was funny how Mom brought the spade and rake but not beds or food. Anyway, I ripped out the weeds and turned the soil. After a while, I began to get blisters from the spade, and my knees hurt. I got fed up and chucked the spade at the ground. Paint, blisters, weeds, I'd had enough. I figured that the only thing I could do was to go out and hang for a while in the woods. I found a neat little creek halfway into the woods. I sat by it for a while, humming. After a few minutes, I commenced throwing rocks into the water. I stopped when I noticed a cute little frog near the edge of the water. I picked it up and began to play with it. It hopped from one hand to another. I laughed to myself at how it tried to outwit me.
All of a sudden, right over my shoulder, someone yelled, "Oh my God!"
I jumped, spun around, and saw a boy with long blond hair. He was pretty scary. He wore torn and faded jeans with a not-so-clean-looking black shirt. Obviously a hick. "Uh..." I stammered, trying to decipher what he was spazzing about.
"What is that in your hand?" he asked exitedly.
"A frog," I said slowly, trying to figure out why he didn't know that.
"But, you're holding it!"
"Yes..."
"Why?"
"What would you like me to do with it?" I said slowly so that he could understand.
"But, but, you're a girl!" he exclaimed.
"What tipped you off?"
"Girls are supposed to be afraid of frogs!"
"We are?" I asked, not really wanting to hear this hick's philosophy.
"My sisters are," he shrugged.
"Well, I'm not your sister, and I happen to like frogs."
"They're kind of green and squishy and icky... Are you sure you're not afraid of it?" he was using lots of hand motions in his attempt to make me afraid.
"I'm positive."
"Kiss it, then," he challenged.
I shrugged, and kissed the frog on the head.
"I can't believe you did it!" he screamed in disgust.
"You told me to," I stated.
"If I told you to jump off a bridge, then would you?" he said, using that stupid cliche.
"Depends," I paused to place the frog back in the creek, "How high is the bridge?"
"About five feet," he said, approximating.
"Then, yea, I would," I nodded.
"Oh yea?"
"Yea."
"Follow me," he waved his hand for me to follow.
Having nothing better to do, I followed him. He led me to an actual bridge above the creek, which had swelled to form a small swimming hole.
"Go ahead, do it," he ordered.
"If I brake a leg, I can't very well blame it on 'the hick.' I'd need to tell them your name as they wheel my gurney into the emergency room."
"I'm Zac, Zac Hanson. I'm not a hick," he said with emphasis.
"My name is Tayler Robinson," I stated, "and you are too a hick."
"Your name is Tayler? That's weird... My brother's name is Taylor," he said with surprise.
"That is weird," I agreed.
"So, did you just move here or something?" Zac asked, leaning on the railing of the bridge.
"Yea. Actually, I lived here when I was little, like until I was four," I explained.
"You're pretty brave, for a girl," Zac emphasized the word 'girl' to make it sound like an infectious disease. "Frogs scare the crap out of my sisters."
Ignoring that comment, I stepped up to the railing and asked, "Still want me to jump?"
He pretended to shake with fear, "No! It's scary!"
I looked at him, stepped up onto the second rung of the railing, and leaned over.
"Don't do it!" he screamed, pretending I was about to kill myself.
He began to sing the song "Jumper" by Third Eye Blind. "I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend..."
But I didn't. I leapt, fully clad, from the bridge into the cold pool below. I hit the water with a splash, and kicked for the surface. I didn't go up too fast, maybe to make Zac nervous that I'd hurt myself or something. As I began to feel the need for breath, I pushed toward the surface of the water, where I came out with a flourish.
"You're crazy!" he laughed.
"I know... I get that a lot," I responded, swimming nearer to the shore and removing my shoes because they were really heavy. I stuck my socks in them, and threw them onto the bank. "The water's great!" I laughed.
"I'll bet it is," Zac said, shaking his head.
Another boy, who also had long hair, but his wasn't as light, appeared on the bridge. "Hi, Ike," Zac said.
"Ike?" I wondered to myself. Definitely a hick. Actually, this guy looked semi-familiar.
"Hi," Ike said to Zac.
"This is Tayler," Zac introduced, "She's cool. She likes frogs, she jumped from the bridge, and she's swimming with her clothes on!"
"Would you prefer I swam without my clothes on?" I asked.
"Yea!" Zac yelled. Typical.
I rolled my eyes and waved to this Ike, "Hi!"
"Her name is Tayler?" Ike asked surprisedly, waving at me.
"Yea," I answered, "Tayler Robinson. I just moved here from New York. Actually, I used to live somewhere around here when I was little," I explained, treading water in the swimming hole. "Oh, and you live in this neighborhood now?" Ike asked. "Somewhere over there," I waved my hand in the direction of my house. I decided to change the subject. "So there's one more of you, right? The one with my name?" "Well, there's him, but there's also Jessie, Avie, Mackie, and Zoe," Zac said. "That was a mouthful," I laughed. In my head I sang the word "inbred" a few times. "Ike is the oldest, and Zoe is the youngest," Zac noted. "Oh," I mumbled. I care, too. "Ike is eighteen, Tay is sixteen, and I'm thirteen," Zac added. "Oh," I repeated, utterly thrilled to learn these facts. Bored, I swam all the way to the bottom of the little creek, which was about five and a half feet at most, and held my breath there as long as I could. When I surfaced, Ike and Zac were having a conversation. " -my drums to their house," Zac finished. "Yea, I know," Ike said thoughtfully. "You play the drums?" I asked, butting in on the conversation. "Yea, we're in a group. You know, Hanson? Mmmbop ba du ba dop ba du bop..." Zac sang. "I thought you looked familiar," I said, hitting my forehead with my hand. They were all the rage that previous summer with a few girls in my class. Personally, I never really heard much of their music because it wasn't quite my scene, but I wasn't about to tell them that. "Not knowing me is better than attacking me and trying to rip off my shirt or something," Zac laughed. "Yea, I'll bet," I smirked. He was bragging. "Girls love you that much?" I knew he was about to gloat more. "Yea," he replied, smiling. "I don't see why," I said rudely. "Oh! She dissed you, Zac!" Ike laughed. I smiled and laughed, too. Zac had a flabbergasted look on his face. "Well, I used to think you were cool," Zac said indignantly. "Anyway, Zac," Ike broke in,"it's almost dinnertime, and Mom sent me to bring you home." "Hey, Tayler, do you want to come?"Zac invited. "Sure, but I'm a little wet..." I said, splashing around. "Well then, go get dressed," Zac shook his head at me like I was an idiot. "Good idea!" I said, climbing out of the water. I slipped my sodden shoes on my feet. "Oh, Zac, how am I supposed to find your house after I finish changing?" "Duh, we'll show you," he rolled his eyes. "You're cruisin' for a bruisin'," I quoted from the movie Grease and sloshed toward my new house. Ike and Zac followed me. "Be careful of my mother," I warned as we walked, "she'll probably recruit you as painters or something." When we reached my house, I led Ike and Zac into the living room where Mom was sorting paper clips and rubber bands. "Mom, this is Ike and Zac," I introduced, "They invited me over to dinner. Try not to scare them while I get dressed." My mother laughed. I jogged up to my room, threw on whatever clothes were on top on the box (it happened to be a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved blue shirt), and came jogging down the stairs. "Mom," I said, as I tugged a comb through my hair, "how is it that you managed to bring paper clips and rubber bands, but not like, food or beds?" That made Ike and Zac laugh. "Well, they were little enough to fit in my suitcase, and so I brought them," Mom explained, laughing at her own absurdity. I shook out my hair and chucked the comb into the bathroom sink. "Boys, is your mother, by any chance, named Diana?" Mom asked Ike and Zac. "Yes, she is," Ike said, not sure how my mother knew that. "I was hoping so," my mother smiled. "Your parents and I used to go to school to gether. Do you kids remember playing with each other?" Mom asked, waving her hand in between Ike, Zac, and I. We shook our heads in unison. "You used to play together, even before Zac was born," she explained. "I have some cute little pictures of you guys in the sandbox," Mom laughed. "Anyway, I've been meaning to call your mom, but I haven't gotten around to it, and I also figured it wouldn't be worth it because you wouldn't be at home." "Nice work, Mom," I said, rolling my eyes. "We'd better go, our mother is expecting us," Ike explained, "in fact she expected us home about twenty minutes ago." We left my house in a hurry and cut across the woods onto another street. We walked about three houses down to the house that I assumed was theirs. A friendly looking woman let us in and informed us that dinner was ready. I introduced myself as we sat down. Dinner was some type of chickeny-rice thing. It was good. Mrs. Hanson asked me all kinds of questions, especially about my mother. I spilled my life's story for a while, and then she and Mr. Hanson told some funny stories about their adventures with my mother. I learned some things I didn't really want to know. Anyway, after dinner, I was formally introduced to everyone. Jessie and Avie were on their way out to a ballet lesson with Mr. Hanson, and so I didn't get to talk to them much. Mrs. Hanson was cleaning up, and so she sent the rest of us outside. Mackie was really hyper, kind of like Zac. Taylor seemed nice, but he didn't talk much. "We met in the woods, and she was holding a frog. She jumped off the bridge..." Zac was recounting the day. "It's like she did whatever I said." "I wonder if she'd do whatever I said," Ike thought out loud. Pervert... "No, I won't, and stop talking about me like I'm not here," I said indignantly. There was a silence. "So what do you want to do?" I asked. "I know what Ike wants to do," Zac said. I raised my eyebrows, "Should I leave you three alone then?" I teased. "He meant rollerblading," Taylor spoke up. "I knew that," I mumbled, trying to cover up my perverted mind. "Well, I can't rollerblade because my rollerblades are flying somewhere over East Jabib right now, for all I know," I sighed. "Moving halfway across the country sucks." "I'll bet," Ike agreed. "I think we have an extra pair someplace," Taylor was trying to be nice. "Okay, whatever," I said. Zac picked up Zoe and her blanket and put them both down on the front lawn (in New York, not only did we not have a front lawn, but we also would never just put a baby there and leave it). Tay and Ike strapped on some skates and sped away. Mackie strapped on his own pair of pint-sized skates. Zac came out from behind the house with a pair of old, stinky, stained pair of blades. "I found them under the deck," he dropped them at my feet. The wheels fell off and rolled halfway across the lawn. I couldn't help but laugh, "You go skate, nad I'll hang here with Zoe," I said. "Okay," Zac said as he sped down the street. I turned to Zoe, who was kicking her feet in the air. "Looks like it's just you and me, kid." After about five minutes, Ike, Tay, Zac, and Mackie returned. Zac leapt onto Ike's back and began yelling something I couldn't understand. Okay... whatever. Zac looked at his watch and let go of Ike. He unstrapped his skates and ran inside like something was on fire. "What's his problem?" I asked Taylor. "Tiny Toons is on," Taylor said, leaning over to unstrap his skates. "Stop the presses!" I yelled, "Tiny Toons is on!" "Tiny Toons rock!" Ike yelled as he ran inside after Zac. "Tiny Toons is sort if a role model for them. They try to live up to Bugs Bunny's standards... becuase of them, my life is a cartoon," Taylor said more to himself than to me. He reluctantly started to follow the two nerds inside. "So... um... don't worry about me and Zoe..." I shouted after him, feeling extremely weird that they would leave me outside with their little sister when they hardly even knew me. "Zoe and I are getting to be pretty good friends." "Oh, Zoe, right.. I'd better take her... she gets upset when she misses Tiny Toons." "All right then, I... I'm, um, going home..." I said after Tay. "Come around tomorrow or something and we can hang out," he called over his shoulder and went inside his house. I felt a little more than weird standing on their front yard with their rollerblades surrounding my feet, all alone. I shrugged and started the walk home, contemplating how people like that got to be so famous.
