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Colorado With The Moodys

 

“We should have brought a first aid kit,” Mitch offered.

“That would have been really smart. I wonder why Aunt

Olga didn’t tell us to.”

Three hikers rounded the bend and approached them.

“Hello!” one lady greeted them cheerfully.

 

Trail Troubles

165

 

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Mitch quickly stuffed his feet back into his shoes and stepped

forward, holding his sock. “Good morning! My name is

Mitch, and this is my dad, sister, and brother. One of us ran

into a bit of a mishap on the bridge and they were wondering

if you have an extra pair of socks. They would be very grateful

if you did.”

The lady laughed. “So you got your foot wet?”

“How did you know?”

“You’re holding your sock."

 

 

 

“We should have brought a first aid kit,” Mitch offered.

 

“That would have been really smart. I wonder why Aunt

Olga didn’t tell us to.”

 

The truth was that Aunt Olga simply hadn't thought of it. She'd thought, like most people who hiked regularly, that a first aid kit was just an obvious thing one should bring, much as how one always brings a map (or GPS) on a road trip. Aunt Olga was the type of woman who assumed that most people generally had enough brain cells that they could figure out the obvious things for themselves.

 

And so it had completely slipped her mind that the Moody family would need to be told to bring a first aid kit, along with extra socks, and whatever other basic necessities you might need out in the woods.

 

Unfortunately, Mr. Moody had possibly a few less brain cells than Aunt Olga had anticipated, and so here they were, by the stream, with a lot of blisters and Mitch with a wet foot.

 

Three hikers rounded the bend and approached them.

 

“Hello!” Grandma Maude greeted them cheerfully.

 

Mitch quickly stuffed his feet back into his shoes and stepped

forward, holding his sock. “Good morning, Miss Marple! I didn't know you enjoyed hiking! One of us ran

into a bit of a mishap on the bridge and they were wondering

if you have an extra pair of socks. They would be very grateful

if you did.”

 

 

 

Oh my.... Grandma Maude laughed, “So you got your foot wet?”

 

“How did you know?”

 

Seriously, you said you had a mishap on the bridge... I notice you are all among the living, so it's not hard to deduce what else could have possibly happened. “You’re holding your sock.”

 

Alexa giggled. Jane gave Alexa the “shut the fuck up” look. Alexa quickly turned her laughter into a hacking cough.

 

Mitch swallowed hard. He had given it away with that. “Yes,

ma’am. And my sister has a blister.”

 

“Let me guess: You’re flatlanders. Am I right?” Alexa asked, her

blonde ponytail bobbing back and forth

 

Grandma Maude shot Alexa a glare, but Alexa blinked back innocently. Grandma Maude stifled a smile. It wasn't like the Moodys would even be aware the term was a thinly veiled insult. In fact, Maude Bagwell could tell that Mitch had no clue what she was talking about because he had that dopey grin frozen on his face that all the Moody children wore when they weren't entirely sure of what was happening.

 

Finally, Mitch replied. “We are.”

 

There was an awkward silence, and then Jane spoke up. “We have a blister kit, but no extra socks.”

 

This wasn't entirely true. As former boy scouts, Jane, Alexa, and Grandma Maude knew to be prepared for just about anything. However, they'd only brought one extra pair of socks each, and, in addition to being unsure if their socks would even fit Mitch's big foot....

 

Seriously, Alexa fumed privately, who has the utter nerve, the GALL to ask strangers for extra socks?! Do the Moodys think these things grow on trees?

 

Jane shot Alexa a look that meant she was thinking the same thing. It's one thing to ask for first aid supplies. She thought, as she searched through her bag. People run out of those all the time, and they're relatively cheap. But socks?

 

Grandma Maude caught Jane and Alexa's gaze and rolled her eyes before quickly turning back to the Moodys. “Did you already use your blister pads and bandaids?”

 

“No,” Max shook his head. “Aunt Olga didn't tell us to bring a first aid kit, so we just didn't think of it.”

 

Flatlanders indeed! Thought Maude as she pressed her lips into a thin line. Out loud all she said was, “hmm.”

 

Jane turned to Alexa. “Alexa, is the first aid kit in your bag?”

 

“Who knows what all you stuck in mine when you thought I wasn't looking.” Alexa said as she shrugged off her backpack and unzipped it. “It's like you think I want to carry all your extra weight for you.”

 

“Sorry Cuz, just wanted to make sure you were prepared, that's all.”

 

“I am always prepared, Jane.”

 

“Yeah, so prepared in fact that you decided to bring half your library with you?”

 

“I thought I'd get bored!”

 

“Books are weight, Alexa.”

 

“But...”

 

“Your Kindle's in the side pocket.”

 

Alexa blinked. She and Jane burst out laughing. “What would I do without you.” Alexa asked as she took out the blister kit. “I didn't even know these things existed.... here you go, Mr. Moody.” She handed the blister kit to Dad.

 

“Thank you so much,” Dad said. He found a thick pad and applied it to Mollie's blister. Jane vaguely wondered why the 13 year old girl couldn't apply her own damn blister pad, but wasn't sure she wanted a confrontation, so she said nothing.

 

Alexa began to take pity on the poor dumb flatlanders. “I've been in your shoes before,” she said. “Blisters are no fun. Anyone else got one?”

 

Jane, asked Mitch, “What happened?”

 

“I was trying to beat my time crossing the stream,” Mitch

admitted. “So on my second crossing, I was in such a hurry

that I slipped and fell part way in.”

 

Jane glanced at the “bridge,” if you could even call it that. Someone had come along and laid some logs across the stream, side by side. The logs weren't even tied together, and it looked precarious.

 

I knew the Moodys were dumb, but I didn't know they were this dumb..... holy cow.

 

Grandma Maude suppressed a smile. “How..... tragic,” she said. “You all can keep

several blister pads, because with a wet sock, you'll probably need them.” She watched as Mr. Moody took out some blister pads, then handed the kit back to her. “Are you going to the lake?” She asked, trying to be polite.

 

“Yes, we are; thank you for your generosity.”

 

Mitch handed a million-dollar-bill tract to Grandma Maude. “This

isn’t real, but if it was, that’d be incredible. It has the million-

dollar question on the back.”

 

“If it was real, I'd wonder what bank you robbed,” Grandma Maude said. She was well familiar with the tracts. Alexa had come home from her job at Insert Name of Popular Restaurant Here ranting about the idiot who'd left her one instead of a tip.

 

“The million Dollar question....” Jane started to say.

 

“Is, 'Will Bernie Sanders win the 2016 election?'” Alexa finished.

 

“No, no, Alexa,” Jane corrected, “It's, 'will Alexa show up to Joshua's party in an appropriate outfit, or will she be wearing something weird?'”

 

“Well I think the real million dollar question is, 'will I ever find a date for Joshua's party or am I going to have to show up alone?'”

 

“Girls!” Grandma Maude stopped them before they could get into a more serious argument. She turned back to the Moodys. “Thanks,” She said, with all the enthusiasm she could muster. “That's.... neat.”

 

Grandma Maude jerked her head in Alexa and Jane's direction. Jane caught on first. “Oh yes, I would like one too please.” She held out her hand to Mr. Moody, who gave her a tract.

 

“I would also like to read what the, er, real million dollar question is, Mr. Moody,” Alexa said humbly, wondering what the fuck this was about.

 

“Oh, and I'd like one for my husband,” Grandma Maude asked, with a twinkle in her eye. “I know he is minimally interested in such things.”

 

“And I'd like one for my little niece, Jessica.” Alexa asked.

 

“And I'd--”

 

“That's enough, girls,” Grandma Maude said firmly. “We don't want to exhaust the poor Moodys's supply.”

 

The Moodys crossed the stream without saying goodbye. Alexa turned to her grandmother. “What the every loving fuck--” she wanted to know.

 

Maude sighed. “Alexa, have I taught you nothing?”

 

“Well, you taught me that when a man and a woman--”

 

“No no, not that. What have I taught you about fires?”

 

“How to start one with one match,” Jane said. “I'm guessing you're thinking kindling?”

 

“That's correct,” Maude said. “the paper this is made out of is perfect for making fire starters.” She turned over the tract. “The million dollar question,” she read out loud, “is, 'Do you know where you are going when you die?'”

 

Jane and Alexa started to hike on ahead of Maude. “Hey, come back!” Maude exclaimed, “we have to snark on this!” But Jane and Alexa were already too far up the path.