Conrad’s Party…Kinda



My birthday was a less-peopled affair. They figured they’d already had a family reunion at Electra’s… Also my one and only gift from my parents was a car. They figured that if I had guests, I’d spend most of my time with them wishing they’d go so I could take off in my new ride.

"So,” Dad asked as he handed me the keys. “Where’s dinner?”

“The, uh… Do you have the usual reservations at the steakhouse?” I asked. He nodded. “Then, there, at… Whenever.”

“Okay,” he said, patting my shoulder. “We’ll see you two at seven.”

“Be careful,” Mom said, hugging me.

“Seven?” I asked. “It’s nine in the morning.”

“And you have a car with a full tank of gas,” Dad said. “You guys go out and be independently mobile.”

“I, uh, okay… Thanks!”

The front passenger seat even had a shelf that swung out to mount a sylph carrier on. Dad watched me attach the carrier and checked to see it was secure. Then I drove off. “Where are we going?” I asked.

“You’re driving!” Electra said.

“Yes. I’m driving. I’m driving my own car. I don’t care WHERE we go, I’ll enjoy getting there. Where do you want to go?”

“The bookstore in the mall in Twin?” she asked.

“And maybe stop at the scenic outlook on the bridge?” I asked back.

“Please?”

And off we went. The car was second hand, but it ran and handled like a dream. The radio was in excellent condition and the speakers, too. I let her pick the station and just cruised.

At the outlook, we went to stand on the downriver side, away from Knievel’s jump. I held her on the edge of the stone railing and we gazed over the canyon. I stood so as to be a wind-break for her.

After a while, I said, “You know, I could make that harness, and tie you off. You could stand on the rock, here, instead of being gripped-“

“This is fine, “she said. “It’s just what I need.” She stroked the edge of my hand with hers.

“Doesn’t my grip distract from the view?”

“Conrad, don’t you know the view hasn’t been important for six months.”

“It hasn’t?”

Electra folded herself along my hand, head down to my skin. She hugged as much of me as she could reach. “You indulge me,” she purred. I barely heard her over the wind.

“Well, yeah, and you put up with me. It's an even trade.”

“You’re a good person, Conrad.” We stood there for a bit longer. “Bookstore,” she said.

I carried her back to the car. To MY car. Woo HOO!

Once inside, I put her in the carrier. She held up a hand before I shut the door. “I… I just can’t believe I never talked to you, Conrad.”

“What? That’s silly,” I replied. “You’ve been talking to me for years.”

“No,” she shook her head. “I’ve known of you since sixth grade and it took sylphing for me to talk to you. I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” I objected. “First off, we’ve known each other since fifth grade. And I remember every single time you’ve ever spoken to me.”

“Fifth?”

“Remember? Mrs. Mooney got sick and her replacement wasn’t qualified to teach science, so you guys crossed the hall during fourth period to sit in Mr. Shall’s class.”

“You.. You were in that class?”

“You borrowed a pencil from me.”

“I don’t remember you,” she said. “I’m sorry, but I don’t.”

“Buffalo-shit,” I said. “No one will ever forget my death scene in Mr. Shall’s class.”

“That was you?!?” she astounded. “That WAS you!” she realized. “You asked Sheila Jones to marry you and she turned you down and you staggered around like someone had stabbed you with a spear!”

“Yes. My first public performance before an entire classroom.” I shrugged. “I discovered it doesn’t hurt as much if they’re laughing with you.”

“That’s a load of buffalo-shit,” she said with a smile and a sad shake of her head.

“Hey, we all have our coping mechanisms. I clown, you swear. And by the way, they’re bison, not buffalo.”

“It’s YOUR SWEAR WORD!” she said.

“Don’t blame your potty mouth on me,” I said.

“You are SUCH an asshole!” She reached out to grab the door and slam it herself. I stopped it with a finger.

“Seriously, try to contain yourself at dinner tonight, okay? Mom can handle it, but Dad’s a delicate flower and-“

She’d heard Dad’s command of profanity when he set himself on fire at her barbeque. The idea of him being delicate set her to laughing. I laughed with her. Finally, I started the car and headed for the bookstore.



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Index

56. Interesting Conflicts

58. Electra’s Swearing Habit