Free Flyers (9781481414449) by Daniel Hayes Page B

decent-sized breasts, courtesy of a padded bra. Ethan, making his film debut, would round out the family as their son Greenie. As long as it wasn’t a speaking part, Ethan was glad to do it, but we knew we’d have to handle Jeremy a little more carefully. We figured if we told him about it right away, that’d leave him enough time to rant and rave and swear up and down that he wasn’t getting into any stupid costume and making a fool of himself, especially if it meant being married to “that stupid tub,” and by Friday night his resistance would be low and we’d have him.
    When I saw Jeremy heading our way along with Rosasharn, I poked Bo. Sudie knew what was up and smiled.
    â€œAh,” Rosasharn said, plunking his tray down next to Sudie’s, “the love of my life and my dear friends.”
    â€œI wish you wouldn’t call me the love of your life,” I said. “People will talk.”
    â€œHe didn’t mean you,” Jeremy said, all indignant, as he slid onto the bench next to Rosasharn.
    I mouthed the words “It’s too easy” to Bo and he smiled. Rosasharn leaned across the table and tried to kiss me.
    â€œYou wanna take that for me, Jeremy?” I said. “You’re closer.”
    Jeremy picked up his fork, all set to fend off Rosasharn’s lips, which had already switcheddirections and were heading his way. “Don’t, ya stupid tub,” he said, “unless you want a fork stuck in your head.”
    Rosasharn gave him the Curly wave-off.
    â€œUnrequited love makes me sad,” I said, and then realized I was only half joking.
    â€œYou oughta know,” Jeremy told me, and was so surprised by this burst of wit that his face almost broke into a smile.
    â€œSpeaking of affairs of the heart,” Bo said, spotting the perfect segue, “Friday night we start filming the scenes with Green Guy’s loving, dedicated, and stunningly green wife.”
    â€œWho’d many that tub?” Jeremy said from behind his hamburger.
    â€œLove’s a funny thing,” I said. “Sometimes it’s the ones you least expect who end up getting together.”
    â€œYou know, I’ve noticed that,” Bo said. “Did you ever notice that, Jeremy?”
    At first Jeremy looked disgusted that we’d waste our breath talking about something so stupid, but then all of a sudden he stopped chewing and got a funny look on his face. When he looked over at us, we smiled at him and nodded.
    â€œUh-uh,” he said, his whole body squaring off in opposition to the idea. “Uh-uh. Forget it. I ain’t doin’ it.” He went back to eating and tried to act as if he’d given the final word on the subject. Only every few minutes he’d have to look our way and announce it all over again. “I ain’t doin’ it. No way.”
    We kept smiling and nodding our heads at him. Jeremy didn’t know it yet, of course, but he was already as good as in that green wig and falsies.

Seven
    Chow time at Blood Red Pond was a fairly predictable affair. Rosasharn and Jeremy would get a rip-roaring fire going and then proceed to cook up and finish off an almost lethal number of hot dogs and hamburgers, and then top those off with a ton or two of s’mores, which in case you don’t know, are marshmallows and chocolate melted between graham crackers over an open fire. Sudie, in what she believed to be a sensible regard for balanced nutrition, would insist they eat at least some of her macaroni or potato salad, depending on what she had made earlier that day, either of which contained enough mayo to constrict whatever small openings may have been left in their poor crud-clogged arteries. Bo was the flip side—always bringing all kinds of fresh fruit and maybe a green salad with slivered almonds or something like a fresh avocado salad, which Jeremy would always examine with exaggerated disgust, demanding to