Away From it All
By: Stitch
Part 2 - 'Davy Crockett with a frozen hat.'
Lunch should have been a simple enough affair. But like a lot of things about today, it didn't turn out the way I planned.
When we got back to the campsite, Dale immediately launched himself facefirst into the ice chest (another of Gadget's creations, made from an extra-large aspirin bottle that we sawed in half lengthwise and put hinges on). "Now, hold on," I chastised as I pulled him back. He already had a bit of dill pickle stuck to his whiskers, which he tried to dislodge with his tongue. "This stuff has to last us another full day. Besides, we should be making an effort to eat balanced, healthy meals."
"Aw," was all Dale said as I marched him to the fold-out table we brought.
"Too right," nodded Monty as he prepared to dig into a jar of spreadable swiss cheese with a plastic spoon. "You don't wanna turn into a porker, do ya, Dale?"
"That goes for everybody," I said as I grabbed Monty's spoon away from him. Fortunately he hadn't already started eating the cheese, or I never would have been able to clap the lid back on the jar. He gave me a flabbergasted look while I rolled it back into the supply bag. "I'm fixing lunch today," I announced.
"Golly, what are we having?" asked Gadget as she sat down at the table next to Dale. Monty joined them, grumbling something under his breath about no meal being complete without spreadable cheese. Zipper perched on his shoulder... I noticed him trying to brush crumbs off his face when he thought I wasn't looking. He must have some crackers or cookies stashed somewhere.
"Something nutritious, yet satisfying," I replied, digging through the plates and bowls to get the things I needed. I caught the four of them giving each other worried little glances when I turned around holding the wire wisk. 'That's gratitude for you,' I thought. Left to their own devices, Dale would eat nothing but pickles, candy and chocolate covered nuts, Monty nothing but curdled dairy products, Zipper nothing but apple cores and Gadget... well, sometimes she gets so wrapped up in her workshop she forgets to eat at all. Sometimes I don't think they appreciate how lucky they are to have somebody responsible looking out for them.
"Everybody just sit tight," I told them. "I'll have something whipped up in a jiffy."
"Don't forget the caramel sauce," called Dale as I started to mix the ingredients together. It didn't take long to make lunch - it's an old recipe I found in the back of a health food magazine at the city dump. Fortunately I had everything I needed to do it right; raw mushroom, rice, chopped carrot, celery, a bit of radish, and a pinch of pepper. You just sort of mash everything into a paste, then serve it on a slice of bread.
Okay, I'll admit it doesn't really look that appetizing, but the looks on their faces when I brought the plates out and set them down... you'd have thought I'd presented them with gobs of mud or something.
They all stared down at the table for a few seconds, then up at me. "No caramel sauce?" Dale asked in that sad puppy-dog way he has when he's disappointed.
"No, this is better. One serving has a full day's worth of vitamins and minerals," I tried to explain, but Dale was poking at his like it was some kind of alien creature.
"Yeah, but it doesn't have a full second's worth of flavor," complained Monty after he took a little nibble. Zipper just stayed on his shoulder and stared down at the plate, eyes wide.
"Oh, come on, guys," I pleaded. "It won't kill you to start eating right. Gadget, you like it, don't you?"
She noticed me staring at her and grinned, then took a hefty bite of her lunch. I was hoping she at least would appreciate the importance of a balanced meal, but as she chewed her grin got kind of lopsided and weird. I could see she was only trying to make me happy, which somehow made me feel worse.
"You know, if you mash a whole bunch of potato chips into it, it tastes kinda salty," said Dale. He'd poured taco sauce onto his as well.
I sighed and turned back to the pile of dirty dishes. As I started to stack them I overheard Monty whisper to Dale: "I'll give you a full wedge of brie '86 for a shot o' that taco sauce, mate."
We all ate quietly. I caught a glimpse of Dale flicking a bit of his lunch off into the bushes with his fork when he thought I wasn't looking, but I didn't say anything. 'Well, fine,' I thought, 'tonight they can all just eat a bunch of Twinkies for dinner.'
Once everybody was finished, I started giving out cleanup assignments again. I figured we'd rotate, so that everybody had a different job this time... no need for things to get boring, after all. But even though I gave Dale the job of putting plates away instead of washing, he got all huffy and crossed his arms.
"Oh, not that again," he grumbled.
"What do you mean? It's time for cleanup."
"It's time for you to lighten up," he snapped. "We're on vacation, remember?" he asked, poking his finger at my chest.
"So what?" I replied, feeling my temper start to rise.
"So we're supposed to be having fun!"
"We are having fun!" By this point we'd leaned in so close to each other that our noses were bumping together. I could see that firey gleam Dale always gets in his eyes when he's getting ready to pounce on me, so I started to brace myself for a tussle when to my surprise Gadget appeared beside us and slipped her paws around our shoulders.
"Now guys, let's not fight," she said with a smile. Ordinarily I'm kind of disarmed by her presence, but right then my hackles were really up, and apparently so were Dale's because we kept glowering at each other and bumping noses.
"Then tell Dale not to be such a slob!" I growled.
"While you're at it, tell Chip not to be such a big ol' stick in the mud!"
"Grrr!"
"Growf!"
We were just about to leap onto each other when Gadget somehow managed to wedge her paws between us and push us apart - I'm always a little surprised by how much stronger she is than she looks. "No fighting!" she yelled, holding us at arm's length. I guess both Dale and I were rather taken aback, because we both turned to stare at her instead of at each other. "Guys, this is ridiculous. Besides, you're both right. Dale," she said, turning to face him, "we are here to relax and have fun, but we still have to clean up after ourselves. And Chip," she continued, looking at me, "it's okay if we all loosen up a little. Everything that needs to get done will get done, even if it's not totally by the book. Okay?" She beamed at us as though she'd just presented the solution to world peace.
For a long moment there was complete silence in the campground. Dale and I stared back at each other. From somewhere far off I heard the wind whispering through the branches. Then he and I let out simultaneous yells and jumped on each other. I flopped backwards onto the ground with a thump in a tangle of brown furry limbs that were either mine or his, I don't know. For a brief moment I thought I saw Gadget standing above us, slapping her paw against her forehead. Then we started to roll, flailing at each other, biting and snarling and hollering rude things that I don't think anybody else understood (unless the others have learned to speak Chipmunk without telling us).
"Slob, am I? Take that!"
"Who's a stick in the mud? I'll stick you in the mud!"
Somehow we ended up crashing into the table. All I can really remember is a loud smashing sound, a whirl of brown fur with white and black stripes, some plates crashing down around my head, and a sudden heavy weight pressing on my chest. Then a single cup pinged off an overturned chair leg, bounced into the air, and landed perfectly on my upturned foot.
It took a little while, but once my head stopped spinning and things swam into focus, I realized that I was flat on my back, the tablecloth tangled halfway around me like a toga, and that Dale was draped unceremoniously over me, facedown with a small pot over his head.
"Now look what you did," I said.
"Oog," he replied.
Suddenly Monty was looming over us, his big paws reaching down to clasp us by the scruffs of our necks. "'Ere, that's enough of that," he said as he hoisted us up and set us down on our feet. He kept his paws on us so we couldn't go at it again, though truthfully I think the storm had passed by that point anyway... I could only see the lower half of Dale's face from underneath the pot, but I could tell he was trying hard not to smile.
"Honestly, it's like camping with a couple o' wild dingoes," griped Monty as he finally let us go.
Dale peered up at me from beneath his pot. I looked back at him, my tablecloth toga still wrapped around me and that little cup stuck to my toes. There was another long silence. Then we both burst out laughing.
"Oh, I give up," said Gadget as she walked past us, her arms outspread in one of those 'why me?' gestures.
Dale and I laughed so hard we had to clap our paws against each other's shoulders to keep from falling back over. We kept going until my sides hurt and little tears were beaded up at the corners of my eyes. I'm not sure why, but for some reason I just can't stay mad at him for very long, no matter what he's done.
Finally our laughter petered out, save the occasional little hiccuping sound from Dale as he struggled not to start giggling again. "Hey, guess who?" he asked me. Reaching up, he swiveled the pot around so that the handle was in back and struck a heroic pose.
"Who are you supposed to be, the Tin Man?" I asked, wiping a tear from the corner of my eye.
"No, you goober, I'm Davy Crockett with a frozen hat."
I plucked the tin cup from my foot. "I guess I'd have to be a furry Julius Caesar, then," I replied, bundling my impromptu toga up around my shoulders.
"Julius who?" Zipper buzzed as he hovered beside Dale.
"Oh, you know," Dale replied. "He's the guy who invented salad."
After we'd finally cleaned everything up I retreated to our tent and put together a bunch of stuff that I thought we'd need on our hike - a water bottle, a telescope made from a pen cap, a compass (much smaller and easier to use than that huge cookie-sized one Dale brought), a little spool of rope, and of course my nature guide. These I shuffled into my backpack, which I slung over my shoulder as I stepped back outside, fully expecting that we'd be on our way in another minute.
As it turned out, I was in for another disappointment.
When I walked back to the center of our campsite, Dale was propped back in a fold-out chair with a comic book open in his lap, Monty was playing catch with Zipper, and Gadget was tinkering with the stove.
"Hey, guys, don't you want to get ready?" I asked.
"Hmm?" Dale mumbled without looking up from what looked like a new issue of 'Space Hamsters'.
"Wot's that, Chipper?" asked Monty as he caught the acorn he and Zipper were throwing.
"We were going on a hike, remember?"
"Oh, no," said Gadget as she marched past me, a socket wrench clutched in her paw. "There's no way I'm going out on a trail with the two of you." She waved her wrench at Dale and me as she spoke. "The way you guys fight, we'd be lucky to make it back in one piece."
"But - !"
"I'm staying right here where at least it's a controlled environment." And with that, she spun on her heels and disappeared into her tent. A moment later I heard the sound of a ratchet being furiously spun.
"B-but..."
"Gadget's too right," muttered Monty as he tossed the acorn back to Zipper. "I came out here to relax, not play referee."
"I, er..." Try as I might, I couldn't think of anything to say. Clearly Gadget, Monty and Zipper had made up their minds not to come. That just left Dale. I walked over to his chair. "Dale?"
He glanced up at me with an awkward little frown on his face. "Aw, maybe they're right," he said. He was embarrassed, I realized, either because of our scuffle or because he was backing out of going on our hike. "Maybe we ought to just take it easy and cool our jets for now." My disappointment must have shown, because he got a sad look in his eyes and folded his comic book up onto his chest. "Hey, why don'tcha read one of your 'Sureluck Jones' books or somethin'? Or you could borrow one of my comics..."
"Doesn't anybody want to come hiking with me?" I asked to nobody in particular.
"It's just, I think we'd all rather spend the afternoon relaxing, is all," he said. "Maybe we could do it tomorrow... hey, where're you going?"
I'd already started marching out of the campsite toward the bushes. "I'll
go by myself, then," I said without turning around.