3. Kevin seemed to ignore you as he got in the car, while the
youngest smiled at your hesitance to get the car dirty. “Don’t worry about the
car, mud can be cleaned.”
You return the smile before climbing in the car. Kevin turns
the car around and starts across town. Scarf-boy, for lack of better name to
call him, was trying to find a radio station that worked with the radio remote.
You look back and open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you
off. “Yeah I know, it’s an electrical storm, don’t bother.”
You crinkly your nose and nod. “Sorry.”
In the heavy winds, Kevin managed to keep the car from
swerving too much, and you made it across the bridge in almost total silence.
The youngest caught your arm before you reached the door. “You’re sure she
won’t mind?”
You laughed. “Just watch.” You open the door and call inside
and you wipe your feet on the mat. “Aunt Allison, I brought some strays home
with me.”
“Oh good,” She answers from the kitchen. “I need someone to
set the table, and the tomatoes need to be sliced. Also…” You hear her stop
mid-sentence from the hallway where you are rummaging through the closet. You
smile, knowing she just found the boys standing drenched in her front room. “Dear
Lord, you are all soaked, _____ can you get them…”
“Towels?” You finish for her, walking in with an armful. The
boys thank you as you hand them each one. You point to your aunt. “My Aunt
Allison, and these are Kevin, Scarf-boy, and the younger one.” ‘Scarf-boy’
cocked an eyebrow and you shrug. “I had to call you something.”
He shook his head and laughed. “It’s Joe, and he’s Nick.”
“I like Scarf-boy better,” Kevin muttered so only you and
Joe heard.
Your aunt had already started talking again, though she is
headed back to the kitchen. “When I saw how quickly the storm picked up I was
so worried you wouldn’t make it. Your Uncle will have your head for bringing
his boat back here in this.”
You follow her, motioning the boys to follow. “I didn’t,
they have a car so we took the bridge.”
She glanced back at you. “The bridge will be washed out if
it starts to rain too hard.” She hands you a bag of onions. “Boys! Wash your
hands!”
They all hurried to comply while you flashed them an
I-told-you-so smile. “Chopped or sliced?” You ask, starting at the onions.
Kevin and Nick headed to the dining room, while Joe stayed to slice the
tomatoes. Now that his sweater was off, you could see his long hair hanging wet
in his face. He pushed it away every few moments. You felt kind of bad for not
letting him and the others change before putting them to work. Your aunt
disappeared somewhere, and the two of you continued to work in silence. You
wipe a few tears away as you continue to chop the onion in your hand.
Joe lifts himself up on the counter and starts talking
nonsense. “You may not know this, but I’m really quite a sentimental dog.”
“What?” You ask.
“I cry easily,” He says ignoring you. “Onions for instance,
always make me cry.” You laugh slightly, which he takes as encouragement. The
speaking changes to singing, catching you off guard. “I'll admit I split
bananas, take Easter eggs and make them dye. But I never harmed an onion so why
should they make me cry?” You were fully laughing now. He grinned broadly and
hopped off the counter, taking a onion to dance with as he did. “Once I saw a
salad dressing. My face got radish, my oh my.” You shook you head at the way he
said ‘my oh my,’ with his hand on his cheek. “But I never harmed an onion so
why should they make me cry?”
“Would you stop?” You ask, trying to snatch the onion from
him.
As if to answer, his song became a little more intense as he
stomped around the kitchen. “Potatoes I've mashed, and berries I've crushed,”
He jumped angrily as if to illustrate the crushing and mashing. “I've made an
arti-choke, and that's not all. I've also whipped cream, and beaten an egg.
Yes, I've even made a melon ball.” He got down on his knees and held up the
onion to implore its forgiveness. “Of all the things above, I'm guilty.
If punished I would know just why. But I never harmed an onion so why should
they make me cry?” He pretended to sob uncontrollably. “Oh why should they make
me cry?” He wiped his eyes and spoke passionately. “This has been a Muppets
moment, courtesy of Rowlf the dog.” He then stood and started to slice tomatoes
as if nothing happened. You couldn’t help but just stand there with your hand
over your mouth.
After a long time of stillness you finally start to continue
your task, turning to the carrots, now with a very interesting song stuck in
your head.