Written by Dave, as told by Corrin. Dave took artistic license to add details that probably did not happen. The story is true.
The trunk of our parent’s Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme slammed shut on the second attempt. Summer time had come around and our parents decided that it was time to take our annual family vacation. This year our destination was Disney World in Orlando, Florida.
The realization that we were going to stick six people (five of them female) in a car for a half-continent drive flashed through our thoughts. Insights like this one were forced to flash through our thoughts. If they were allowed to wait for some peace and quiet before occurring we would never have them. Did I mention I grew up in a house with five females?
Due to the large amount of clamor and confusion involved in loading up the car, I felt it was important to keep my parents up to date on recent events. “Mom! April squished my bag when she closed the trunk!”
“No I didn’t you little tattle-tell!”
“You flicked me!”
“You’re lucky that’s all I did…”
Our oldest sister April had just moved back home and wasn’t happy about it in the slightest. Typically she didn’t take out the last dregs of her teen angst on Christa and I. Car trunks were another matter altogether…
April and I eyed each other warily and slowly walked to opposite sides of the car…
Michelle doused her hair with hairspray. “Twin, move to the middle, I’m getting a window seat.” Michelle doused her hair with hairspray.
Hairspray was “in” in the late 80’s and our middle sister Michelle didn’t think it was “in” to conserve it for any reason. Michelle doused her hair with hairspray.
I quickly opened the door and sat down in the back seat before Christa (previously referred to as “twin”) could scoot the rest of the way over to the window on the other side of the car. Michelle then took her seat (back window) and then doused her hair with hairspray.
Our dad shut the garage and lit a cigarette. Our mom locked the front door and lit a cigarette. They then squeezed April into the front-middle seat, buckled up, and started the ignition.
With the trip under whey, I pulled out a book and immediately dozed off…
Dad was in the grocery business, which was an industry that could provide perks. Free tickets to Disney World for six people for a week would be considered a perk. Anything that got us out of Pineville (a suburb of Alexandria, Louisianaif you can believe it…) would be considered a perk.
The first few hours of the trip were uneventful at least as far as I could tell. Of course that’s not really saying much since I was sleeping.
Dad was a quiet man; he had no choice but to be. Our voices are very shrill and it would take a lot of energy to be heard over them. That being said, he must have been bored enough to risk the effort, because he decided to ask mom to check where she had placed the Disney World tickets.
Michelle doused her hair with hairspray.
“Hmmm… I hid them. Let me see if I can remember where they are…? Hmmm… Hmmm… They’re not in the glove compartment. Let’s check the….”
Michelle doused her hair with hairspray.
“SHIT! I think I left them at home!”
“What?!?!? SHIT! Are you sure?”
It must have been about then that I woke up because we took an exit abruptly enough to confirm my assumption that medians were really more of a suggestion than a barrier if you tried hard enough…
We then stopped at a bar where they were kind enough to let my mom make use of their phone. This act of kindness may really have been reciprocation for the fact that my dad had just become the best customer they’d seen that day.
Mom had managed to get a hold of one of our neighbors and they were able to check the house and confirm that fact that mom had either thrown the tickets out or they had been stolen by Martians.
“What?!?!? SHIT! Are you sure?” Dad was a quiet man, and also a man of few words.
Our parents must have been curious as to the rides for which a Martian would choose to wait in line because they decided that we were going to continue the trip irregardless of the ticket situation. They lit their cigarettes and we must have continued on our trip.
About thirty minutes past the bar I woke up again, this time to the sound of Christa exclaiming “I smell burning.”
Our mom peered into the back seat. “Which one are you again?”
“I’m Christa and I smell burning!”
Michelle had noticed that hair was on fire.
Christa, April, and I had noticed that hairspray is flammable.
My dad had noticed that an open front and back window (at the same time on the same side of the car) could sometimes result in cigarette ash igniting hair.
Hair burns prettily. Much like a fuse minus the dynamite… Unless screaming counts as dynamite…
My assumption about medians was proved true again. Our car screeched to a halt.
We threw Michelle to the ground and begin to vigorously pat her down with our hands and a blanket.
Some of Michelle’s “fire hair” must have landed on my shoes because I felt a bit of a sting on my feet. Christa must have felt the same thing because she jumped at the same time I did.
I then noticed we were both barefoot.
I then noticed the ants on my feet. Christa then noticed the ants on her feet.
We got back in the car.
My dad fumed. I cried. Christa cried. Michelle cried. April decided it would be a good time to get her beauty rest. Mom lit a cigarette.