Charlie looked away from the picture and Butterfield Bear and headed to the kitchen, where he got out a box of Captain Crunch with crunch berries and a can of Ovaltine from the cupboard below the bar and set them on the table, grabbing the can of corn and sticking it in the cupboard on top of a can of refried beans. Then he grabbed the half-full gallon of milk from the fridge, straining a little as he carried it over to the table. He dragged his chair over to the counter and stood on it, then climbed onto the counter to get a white bowl with yellow flowers and set it on the counter. Next, he grabbed the green plastic cup with the silly face on it. It had been his favorite cup at his Grandma Margaret and Grandpa Charlie's house, so his Grandma Margaret let him take it home. He climbed back onto his chair, then down to the floor.
He climbed back onto his chair, then down to the floor. He scooted his chair back to the table, and brought his bowl and glass to the table too. Next, Charlie went to the silverware drawer, grabbed the Tommee Tippee bear spoon, and returned to the table.
Charlie opened the box of Captain Crunch to the tune of "Chopsticks" coming from the living room and poured the cereal mostly into his bowl. The little golden squares and red and blue "berries" clinked and clattered in his bowl and onto the table until the bowl was full. He opened the milk and started pouring, his little arm trembling a little with the weight. The milk splattered into and over the edge of his bowl until he had what he wanted. He tipped the milk into his green cup next, missing a little, sending milk cascading down the side of his glass and into a puddle on the table.
When the cup was full enough, he scooped generous heaps of Ovaltine into it until it was full to the very top. He stirred vigorously, splashing a little over the edge and onto the table.
Charlie scarfed down the cereal with his bear spoon. When the cereal was gone, he tipped the bowl up and slurped the milk, dribbling some down his chin and onto his already filthy underwear. He chugged the chocolate milk as a little trickle flowed down his chin, neck, and chest into his underpants, smacking his lips as he finished, the chocolate milk leaving a milk mustache. He let out a little burp, then looked around to see if Amy had noticed, sticking out his lip when he saw that she hadn't. He set the glass down, then headed over to the counter and yanked a banana free from a bunch, holding it like a ray gun.
"Awite, Winston! We'we weady to expwoh this new pwanet!"
Charlie cautiously crept around the door to the kitchen and stalked carefully through the mudroom to the back door. He peeked through the bottom of the window in the door.
"It wooks safe. Whet's go."
He cautiously opened the main door and slipped through the screen door, which clanged closed behind him. He stepped outside into the eerie haze that had settled into their valley for weeks. He sniffed a little at the sharp smell of smoke and glanced up at the sun, which was a deep orange. The mountains weren't visible.
"Wow, Winston. We awe on a diffewent pwanet!"
Pausing a bit, he enjoyed what little sunlight he could feel on his skin, cheering up as he took in the cheerful melody of the windchimes and watched bright green hummingbirds dip and dive as they buzzed and chirped, fighting over the hummingbird feeder hanging from the edge of the roof.
Tuffy, Amy's orange and white striped cat, started rubbing on his legs. Charlie glared at him and tried to shoo him away with his foot.
"Charlie!" His mom called out.
He froze.
"Oh, oh, Winston! We've been spotted!"
He pushed past the cat and raced around the corner of the house. He dashed around the swing set toward his tree house in the stand of cottonwoods at the edge of his yard, just inside the windrow of honeysuckles, Siberian pea shrubs, and willows.
****************
Laura wiped the sweat off her brow with a gloved hand as she surveyed the flower bed in front of her house. She clicked her tongue at the weedy mess. It hadn't been that long since she had weeded this spot, but she could never quite keep up.
The clank of the screen door caught her attention. The tornado had emerged from the house.
She shook her head and headed toward the back door, hoping that her wild little boy was at least wearing underwear.
She saw the crazy little thing running toward the stand of trees, where Wayne and Rich had built a treehouse. It was just a platform built in the trees, and it always made her nervous when Charlie got on it. She was sure Charlie was going to fall off it and break something. But Rich had insisted, and Charlie had begged, so she had given in, hoping they wouldn't regret it.
Charlie's wild long hair, which she could never tame, was bouncing as he ran. His underwear, which he was fortunately wearing today, was covered with smudges of something brown. She wasn't sure she wanted to know. His little back was tan, and she could just see the purple scrape on his side. His crazy rubber snake was draped around his neck, his worn and dirty pig clutched in his arm, and he was holding a banana like a laser gun. She chuckled. She thought she had parenting figured out with Amy. But this little animal had proved her wrong in so many ways. She thought about letting him go, but... He should at least put on some shorts.
**********
"Charlie! Get some shorts on!"
"Dwats! We almost made it, Winston!"
Charlie grumbled as he headed back toward his mom.
"Ok...."
Laura tried to hold a serious face until Charlie's back was turned toward her.
"And don't forget you need to weed your part of the garden before you can go play!"
"But mom!"
"You can't keep putting it off, Charlie!"
Charlie "humphed" as he, Fwankie, and Winston tromped back to the house.
"Remember your shoes, too."
"But mom!"
"Do you really want to step on another bumblebee?"
Charlie winced. That had hurt. Really bad. "Ok."
Charlie opened the screen door, then walked through the doorway toward the stairs.
"Charlie!"
Charlie pouted. "Sewiouswy? Whaddaya want?" He shouted toward the kitchen.
"Come in here and clean up your mess!" Amy hollered.
Charlie stamped his foot. "Make me!"
Amy sighed. "Mom!"
Charlie aimed his banana at Amy.
Amy planted her feet, crossed her arms, and stared him down. "Go ahead. Make. My. Day."
Charlie's angry face burst into a giggle as he lowered his banana gun. "Hey, no faiw!"
Amy smirked. "Come on. I'll help you."
Amy handed Charlie a dishrag and had him wipe up his mess of milk and soggy cereal as she put the milk, Captain Crunch, and Ovaltine away, then sent him downstairs to get his shorts on after he put his bowl, spoon, and cup in the sink.
Charlie headed downstairs and into his "teratorie" once more. He stuck his tongue out at the bat and mitt tucked away in a corner. He'd finally won the battle of t-ball by refusing to come out of the pine tree on the edge of their yard to go to practice. He'd gotten pretty scraped up climbing that tree, but it was worth it. He didn't care for t-ball. He could never hit the ball and was much more interested in watching the clouds than the game.
Charlie paused to admire the brown slab propped by more rocks on top of his bookshelf. It was full of fossils. They were mostly horn coral and crinoid stems, with a few others he wasn't sure about. He had found it while hunting with his dad last fall. He was hunting rocks. He couldn't remember what his dad had been impatiently trying to hurry him along to find. That was the second hunt with his dad. His dad had tried taking him pheasant hunting earlier, but Charlie had scared the beautiful birds away so his dad couldn't kill them.
He brushed through Lola and her bright hybiscut flowers and into his room, picking up his black and orange shorts from their spot on the floor and heading back through his basement, Winston on his shoulder, Fwankie around his neck, and armed with his bruised banana. He didn't slip the shorts on until after he had passed his door.
Charlie slipped on his smelly blue water shoes in the mudroom and headed out of the house again.
"Ok, Winston, we'we headed to the jungow."
Charlie started toward the vine-covered archway that led into his mom's herb garden. He could have walked right to his spot, but he always liked to walk through the herb garden first.
A noisy flock of red-winged and yellow-headed blackbirds mixed with brown-headed cowbirds and starlings was fluttering in and out of the trees of the windrow. Charlie paused, trying to make out the shrill calls of the blackbirds and the smooth song of the cowbirds, which sounded almost like water dripping into a pond.
He passed the little flower bed at the front of the arch with the funny little gnomes and the road runner with the legs that spin. Rocks that he had helped his mom pick out were scattered among the purple and white alyssums, the towering hollyhocks, the bright little white, yellow, and purple Johnny Jump-Ups, the cheerful orange and yellow marigolds, and the colorful, spindly columbine. He smiled as he took a deep breath of the fragrance of flowers and soil.
Charlie watched a yellow-and-black Western Tiger Swallowtail butterfly flutter around the flowers, then followed it through the archway, past fragrant thyme and onion-scented chives, and delicate blue flax, to a patch of hyssop, its purple blooms gracing the spikes that rose over the rest of the plant. He watched the butterfly flutter back to the flowers and continued along, stopping at a yarrow with its fern-like leaves and tall stems topped by little white flowers. He paused to look at the plant, remembering what his mommy had told him. "Yawoh foh cuts."
He walked a little farther down the path and paused at a broadleaf plantain, a short plant with broad green leaves and small spikes. "Pwantain foh stings."
Charlie turned his attention to the bees buzzing among the flowers as they made honey "just for him" and started singing along to the "Bear Necessities." He started looking under the rocks and plants for ants. He found a little ant hill in the thyme and put his finger down among the little black ants. One crawled onto his finger, and he licked it. It tasted a little like lemon. He yelped as the ant bit his tongue. He yelped again as he bit his own tongue, trying to dislodge the ant. Unsuccessful, he stuck his finger in his mouth and swiped the ant off his tongue.
He bounded back from the ant hill, frantically brushing the ants off of his legs and shorts as he fled from the angry ants to the strawberries and raspberries on the edge of the herb garden.
There were a few ripe strawberries hidden under the bright green and red leaves, and some plump raspberries among the canes. He relished the tart sweetness of each of them as he popped them into his little mouth, juice dribbling down his chin.
Having scoured the berries of all he could find, he began to wind his way through the rows of the garden as the towering sunflowers, craning their bright yellow heads towards the sun, stood guard. A chubby little robin hopped along their base, chirping cheerily.
The peas were brittle and dry, and the beans were just a little greener. He looked up at the corn stalks rustling in the breeze, anticipating the ears of corn that were just starting to fill out, their golden tassels fluttering in the wind.
The lettuce and spinach were sending up flowers. He grinned. They wouldn't be showing up on the table anymore.
He made his way to the tomatoes and popped a few slightly sour red cherry tomatoes in his mouth, dribbling more juice down his chin as he eyed the abundant zucchini warily, wondering how many would be hidden in supper that night.
He wondered how long it would be before everyone was digging up the onions, carrots, and potatoes, and when the green pumpkins would turn orange and be ready to pick. He hoped it wouldn't be for a long time because that would mean that the warm days of summer had ended once more.
Then his eyes wandered to the circle of sunflowers in the corner, wondering what had become of his own peas and beans, flax and Johnny Jump-Ups that he had planted inside the ring.
"Oh oh!"
There was no sign of his beans, his peas, the flax, or the little Johnny jump-ups. Just a forest of pigweed, kochia, and lambsquarters– some of which were almost as tall as him.
"We'we doomed, Winston!"
Charlie split his banana open and started mashing it into his mouth as he stepped his way through the rest of the garden to the overgrown jungle. He was going to need fuel more than a gun.
When the banana was done, he tossed the peel aside.
"Ok, Winston. You take the pig weed oveh thewe, and I'ww take this kochia oveh hewe, ok?"
Winston nodded hesitantly.
Charlie propped Winston against the stem of a massive pigweed plant and wrapped his arms around the trunk. Then he headed over to the bushy kochia and grabbed it at the base. He tugged with all his might, groaning and grunting as his little muscles strained until sweat poured down his forehead. He wiped it away and tried again. But he couldn't get it to budge. He collapsed to the dirt in defeat, then looked at his comrade, who didn't seem to have better luck.
He gazed mournfully at Fwankie and set him down as a tear trickled down his dirty cheek. "We twied Fwankie. It wooks wike we'ww be hewe fowevuh. Go teww evewyone we wove them and miss them, ok?"
Charlie noticed movement on one of the nearby leaves. It was a plump, green and yellow striped caterpillar with bright orange spots on every other black band, crawling on one of the lambsquarters.
Charlie reached over and put his finger next to it.
"Hey, wittuw buddy. You gonna eat these weeds for me?"
The caterpillar climbed on his finger, and Charlie put it on his shoulder, squirming and giggling as it tickled his skin.
"Hey, that tickuws!" He giggled as it crawled across his collarbone.
He looked at the caterpillar. It reminded him of another one he had caught and put in a bottle with a cotton ball drenched in rubbing alcohol to start his bug collection. It made him feel bad to pin the little thing in his shoe box next to the dead flies. It was kind of pretty. And it stunk up his room bad after a few days. That was the end of the bug collection.
He grabbed a handful of purslane from a clump sprawling at the base of the other weeds and crammed it in his mouth, puckering his lips a little at the slight lemon flavor, then handed some to Winston.
"Weww, we'd bettuh settow in. It's gonna be a wong day!" He gave a little halfhearted jerk at the kochia and sat back down, gazing up at a hawk gliding high above in the hazy sky, dipping below the angry red disk of the sun.
"I wonduh what it wooks wike fwom up thewe, Winston?"
He jumped as footsteps startled him out of his daydream.