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C11 - Friday /

{Shit! It's Friday?} (The Swap)

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A thousand years from now, and in some ways even now, when you get right down to the root of it all, we will find, we are all nothing but space-dust bunnies, hopping, on the wind.

Friday's to do list had just four items.

Miss Emily/Fuzznuts:

1: 'Mabel went to swap. I need to pick some stuff up from the stables. Can you pick her up with the shuttle if she needs a hand? If you can, let me or spark plug know.'

2: 'Dark Shadow called - Be at the pond around nine tonight.'

3: 'Don't do anything I wouldn't do.'

4:

We went to the kitchen and found Marisol fidgeting around. We made breakfast and told her our plans so she'd know where to find us, if Mabel needed those extra hands. Darren was out, buying work clothes and tools at the tractor supply, then he had a few stops for William, he was gonna be back late. We talked Marisol into joining us for lunch while we did some laundry.

Then me and Em settled in for a nice hot bath. It was around a quarter passed three when Marisol knocked on the bunkhouse door. We hailed her it was open.

She popped into the bathroom and leaned up against the door jamb. Have you ever noticed how many people like to put themselves in a frame as they look across a room?

"Hey."

"How's you?"

"Relaxed. Not as relaxed as you two look right now. But it was a nice, mellow day. Thanks for helping with the laundry."

"Mm-hmMM."

"Notta problem."

"I love this tub." Emily exclaimed.

"Me too. I miss The Beast. When we were little, all us kids would be piled up in there, laughing and making a mess."

"Are you just here to reminisce, you gonna join us, or are we going for a ride?"

"I wish. I'd love to jump in there with you guys and just chill, maybe next time. But not today, Auntie needs a pick up."

"You coming for the ride?"

"Hell yeah! I love the Swap. Haven't been to it in a couple of years. I ain't missin this one."

She grabbed two towels off the rack. Emily stepped out of the bath and Marisol spun her around, dried her back and then wrapped her tight in it. I stepped out and she offered me the same. I turned, she pat my back dry then tucked the towel around my waist.

We got dressed while exchanging our plans for the night.

"We're going to the pond later, to meet up with my friend and the Crazy Cot Lady, you and D wanna join us."

"Hah, I've been calling her Squeaky Cot Lady for a week now. That's funny."

"Yeah it is."

"Sorry though, as much fun as that sounds, I have a four-d date night. Dinner, Demo Derby and Dancing. One of the cooks is driving this year. And D already got the tickets or we totally would."

We got to the shuttle and pulled the back two rows of seats out. I asked her if she wanted to drive. She declined, seems her legs were to short to push the clutch pedal down. So I found myself behind Edith's steering wheel again. She only had one real quirk. When going into second, You had to push the stick in and hold it, until you totally engaged the clutch. Other than that she was a steady ole girl. My two road partners shared the passenger seat.

I was given step by step directions via Spark'Nav. After a long slow descent through the trees, the two lane street forked into one way roads. An entrance and an exit.

We bore right, to the parking area.

"Holy shit. I've seen county fairs smaller than this."

"Me too."

"Not ours."

The Swap, as they called it, was a giant flea market, slash, estate sale, slash, swap meet, slash, alfresco museum. There was everything thing you could want or need, even some things you never knew anyone would need. Just think of the weirdest shit you could think was ever invented, or to your knowledge not yet invented. If it was, it was here. Somewhere. Good luck with finding it.

From old muzzle loaders and hand cranked washers to canned fruit and handmade clothes, furniture and farming implements, old machinery, even some old Flathead v8 tractors, that you'd swear were assembled by Henry himself. There were booths and displays and tractor rides, food and drink, amusements for the kids. And people for miles.

We stopped by Sam's booth on the way to the load up. She thanked us so tightly the three of us practically merged.

Then she caught eye of our company, "Marigold?"

"Heya cuz, been a spell."

"A spell? Last time I saw you you were knee high."

"I'm still knee high to you, Samarella."

We left those two to hug and catch each other up and made our way to get a ticket for the load. Yes, there was a line to pick up the big stuff. And our wait was just over an hour and a half.

We made our way back, with Mabel, to Sam's tent. Granny Hicks stayed behind with Sam. Marisol dragged us to her favorite booths. Then we all went our separate ways. Promising to meet at the pick-up area when the fun was done.

The girls seemed to have a purpose. The boy, just mindlessly wandering.

I stumbled across a smoker stand and bought five one-pound bags of jerky. Bison, venison, moose, gator and bear. Listed in order of my preference.

(I don't know why I like gator better than bear. to be honest, I don't dwell on it much. it would just give me a headache)

If I had a million dollars, I could see myself spending half of it here, in a day. I bought a vest, black, real leather, heavy. Thick enough to be a flack jacket. I got a nice suede brown jacket and some tank tops for Em. They had more of a feminine cut. And I even managed to bag a case of William's and Mabel's favourite wine. I met Emily and Sparkie at the Tack table. Buying saddle soaps, brushes and other necessities. The three of us made it to the load out and started packing away Mabel's finds. She met us just as we were tying down an old roll top desk. It was probably as old as the lodge itself. One more strap buckled and we were ready for the road.

Mabel rode up front with me. Emily and Marisol squeezed in the back, the latter on the former's lap. Sitting on a crate of canning supplies with a couple of horse blankets for a cushion. Showing each other their finds, swapping stories of auctions or raffles that got away.

Granny Hicks, was unusually quiet.

"You chat with Sam?"

"Yes."

"She okay?"

"I'm sure she'll be fine."

"Are you okay?"

"Me? Oh don't mind me, I’m just waxing nostalgic."

She looked out the window with a smile on her face. I just had to ask.

"She's pregnant isn't she?"

She just gave me a discerning look, not like I was wrong, more like, odd child.

"Her shoulders. They've displayed a bit. A lot of women I've known, not all mind you, but a few, that's the first thing I sense, before I hear the words. And hers are getting a little rounder, fuller. More motherly."

"Mine did too. Let's keep that between us."

"No worries. So I'm not far off."

"I hope not. You did put another stitch in the quilt though. I noticed a little, softer sparkle. A radiance. Beyond her typical… Sam."

"Mmmm. We call it The Boom."

"The Boom. I might start using that."

"Good for them. If any humans could raise a Thor, it would be those two."

"Hmmmmm… Francis is going to shit himself."

We laughed all the way up the drive. William looked at us with a conspiratorial eye. He was opening the door for Mabel when she grabbed his sleeve and gave it a tug. He just followed her right back from where he came. Not like he had much choice, it was that or ruin a perfectly good shirt.

Marisol caught an itch.

"Uh oh. I hope Gruncle is in Monday mode," then I became the target of her curiosity, "What were you and Maybelle talking bout up there?"

"Nothing. We were just shooting the shit."

"Then why does Auntie M have her feisty eyes?"

"Maybe she found the dirty picture booth or sampled some exotic spices."

"Oh, is that how it is?"

"Yep. You'll find out soon enough. It's not my place to say."

"She made you do the silent promise didn't she?"

"Nope. She just asked me nicely."

"That's even worse."

"I feel like I got off lucky."

"I'll find out soon, huh?"

"Yep."

"Since it's a surprise. I'll let you off the hook."

"Thanks."

Em looked over and smiled, she figured it out half way through the conversation. I was getting pretty good at her Silent Speak, and she was getting really good at reading mine.

As we unloaded the truck, Darren found us and gave us a hand. Getting the roll top on to the back porch was a bit of a feat. Then we helped the ladies restocking the pantry, with some down home goodness in bell jars and masking tape labeled cans. I wrapped the box of wine up with a bow and slipped it next to their last bottle.

Marisol put up some coffee and strawberry cheesecake and we sat, four abreast, on the porch swing. In complete delicious silence.

They took off for their date and we hopped on the Bonnie, with brand new helmets, and headed on out for the pond.

We had stories to catch. And others to give life to.

There was a fire with our names on it, after all.