He Started It(7)

But if Felix wants to spend his time recording life, that’s his choice.

As soon as we’re on the highway, I curl up on my side of the seat and lean against the window. Sleep. It’s the only real way out of a hangover. Time and sleep and a lot of wishing I was Portia’s age.

I drift off with ease, and wake up to the sound of laughter. Above it all, I hear Felix.

“. . . and then they had a baby named Pop Tart,” he says.

“Strawberry Pop Tart!” Krista yells.

“And then they went back into space,” Eddie says. “To find their lost loves.”

“Wait,” Portia says from the back seat. “Did that hedgehog have sex with the alien?”

“And the mutant!” Felix yells.

The story game. We played it as kids, in the car, but not like this. I pretend to still be asleep as I listen to the sexual exploits of a hedgehog named Bonnie. She’s an equal opportunity fornicator, Portia says.

On the first trip, we had an ongoing story about another hedgehog. His name was Chester and he did not fornicate with anyone. Not once. He did, however, like a girl hedgehog named Paulina and he used to give her worms and crickets to eat. Mostly, he hung out with his friends and they went on quests like the kind in video games.

Grandpa loved the stories. He compared the adventures to the comics he used to read as a kid. I always knew when he was giggling because his whole body would shake. I used to watch from the back seat.

I listen to the Bonnie story until I can’t anymore, then I sit up.

“Well, if it isn’t Sleeping Beauty,” Eddie says.

“Are you guys seriously talking about hedgehog sex?” I say.

Krista wags her finger at me. “Not strictly hedgehog sex. Hedgehogs with other animals, too.”

“But not exactly animals,” Portia says.

Felix shakes his head at me. “More like creatures?”

“Alien creatures!”

“Mutant creatures!”

“Mythological creatures!”

“Gods, even. The Greek ones. And the Norse gods.”

“Bestiality,” I say. “This is bestiality of the worst kind.”

“Look out!”

Krista’s voice is drowned out by the squeal of tires, followed by a bang.





We are halfway off the two-lane road and facing the wrong direction.

“Is everyone okay? Is everyone okay?” Eddie keeps saying this the same way, like a recording.

“Yes,” Felix says.

“I’m alive,” Portia says.

I’m fine, too. No broken bones, just a pain in my arm where I slammed it against the door. Krista is crying. Well, she’s sniffling. She has a bright red spot on her forehead where she hit her head. Eddie grabs her and looks at the wound.

“It’s fine,” he says. “No broken skin.”

I take a look too, because you never can tell with head wounds, but he’s right. It doesn’t look bad at all, not even swollen.

Felix stares out the window. “What happened?” he says.

“A truck came right toward us. You didn’t see it?” Eddie says.

“Did we hit it?”

No one answers.

I open my door and get out. There are no other cars around, although down the road I see a pickup truck driving away from us. “It’s gone,” I say. “They just left us here.”

“Asshole,” Eddie says.

Felix gets out of the car as well, and he walks around the car. “We’ve got a flat,” he says.

“For the love of God,” Portia says, climbing out of the back. “Please tell me someone knows how to fix it.”

We all stare at the flat. The back tire looks like it went full speed into a rock that was sharp enough to cut glass.

Eddie maneuvers the car off the road, just in case another comes along. Not likely. The road is empty, lined with cornfields on both sides and farmhouses behind them. That’s it. Nowhere to go, nothing to see.

“I can change it,” Felix says.

Eddie gets out of the car. “So can I.”

I’m watching Portia, who’s leaning against the car and standing on one foot. “What’s wrong?” I say.

“It’s my ankle. I had my feet up when we crashed.”

“Let me look.”

She brushes me off. “I’m fine, Mom. It’s nothing.”

At the back of the car, Felix and Eddie unload the luggage to get to the spare tire. Felix is really good with cars. No one expects that, because he’s the kind of guy who’s always staring at his laptop, but he knows cars. He claims it’s because engines are interesting.

Lie.

It’s because he grew up poor and his family always had old run-down cars.

I overhear Felix say, “We’re going to need to stop and get a real tire. Can’t drive across the country on this.”

“Of course we can’t,” Eddie says.

Like he knows. My brother is a call-Triple-A kind of guy.

I take great pleasure in watching Felix tell Eddie what to do, essentially making him a helper. Felix likes it, Eddie doesn’t. Maybe it’s weird I’m enjoying this, or maybe everyone feels this way about their siblings. A little competitive. A little vindictive.

One day I might analyze these feelings instead of cleaning the house or something.