Teefr - A New Adventure by Edward Summer, Chapter Seven

Teefr
a new classic
by
Edward Summer

Chapter Seven
F r i s b e e s

red walked sleepily down the stairs, dragging Teddy behind him. As usual, Teddy was upside down, and his head thumped from step to step.

Everyone else was already in the kitchen eating breakfast.

"Where's your beard, Rip Van Winkle? You slept long enough." Tony spoke between crunches of buttered toast.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," his mother reminded him.

"Sorry," Fred yawned. "It was Teddy's fault. He wiggled all night and kept me up."

"Teddy. Yeah, right." Tony's mouth was even fuller than before. He looked at Ginger and pushed the mass of soggy toast part way out of his mouth pretending to throw up. Ginger smirked knowingly.

Douglas Calder sent his son a discouraging frown. "I'm sure it was just the earth tremors that got you excited," he said to Fred. "They happen a lot in this part of the country, but they come and go so quickly. Nothing to worry about, really."

Fred stared into the steaming oatmeal. Fred was staring into the huge bowl of steaming oatmeal that Tony's mother had just set in front of him.

"Milk, Fred?" she asked.

"I guess." He watched the wisps of steam rise from the oatmeal.

"Why can't I go?" Tony suddenly demanded of his father.

"I think you'd find a seminar on Etruscan history pretty boring." Douglas sipped his coffee.

"You say that every time! I'd love it, really!"

"Maybe next time, honey," said his mother, "if your Dad and I have more free time."

"Next time, shmext time. I wanna go with you guys. You're always busy with something that doesn't include me."

"You'll get to fly to Ginger and Fred's house tomorrow. You like flying there." She sipped her coffee and stared down into the cup. She was trying to think of a genuinely good reason. Julia Calder stared into her coffee cup.

Fred wasn't listening. He busily propped Teddy up between the orange juice pitcher, the sugar bowl and the oatmeal.

I know what's coming now, Teddy thought. He doesn't like the oatmeal, so he's going to feed it to me. Without honey, too!

A large globby spoon of oatmeal was heading directly for Teddy's mouth.

"Eat up, Teddy" Fred held the spoon next to Teddy's nose for nearly a minute. A blop of oatmeal dribbled onto Teddy's chin.

"Teddy's not hungry," Fred announced, "so we're not going to eat breakfast." He dropped the spoon into the bowl with a splash.

"But Teddy is hungry," Julia countered. She picked up the spoon.

Not more, please! Teddy thought.

The spoon floated toward Teddy's face once gain. Teddy 's eyes crossed as the oatmeal approached his nose. Thankfully the spoon stopped just short of his face.

"See? Teddy likes it!"

Fred scowled as she handed the spoon back to him. Fred put a spoonful into his mouth and squished it back and forth with his tongue trying to get all the sugar out of it.

"Let's go out!" Tony stood up.

"Finish your breakfast!" His father looked stern. Tony sat down.

"I like coming here to visit." Fred absentmindedly slapped the milk in his bowl with the bottom of his spoon. "Except Teddy doesn't like the plane ride."

"Oh?" Julia gently stopped him from splashing her.

"It's the bumps. Teddy wants a napkin, please."

First considerate thing he's done all morning, Teddy thought, and about time, too. This stuff is clogging up my nostrils.

Fred dabbed at Teddy's mouth with the tip of the napkin, then tied it around Teddy's neck. Fred continued picking at his oatmeal, feeding some to himself and dribbling the rest down Teddy's face.

Yummy, yum, Teddy said to himself. Just great. Just what I needed. This stuff is going to harden in my fur.

"Finnusssht!" Tony yelled, nearly choking on a mouthful of cereal and half chewed toast. He washed the whole thing down with half a glass of orange juice. He jumped up, gave his mother a wet kiss, and was out the back door before anyone could object.

"Bye, Mom! Bye, Dad! Bring the frisbee, Ginger!"

"May I be excused? Ginger asked.

Julia sighed and nodded.

"Finished," Fred said. He grabbed Teddy and rushed after Ginger.

The day-glo orange frisbee flashed through the air with the three children in breathless pursuit. At first the air was still, but the breeze began to pick up allowing the frisbee to float across the sky.

Tony showed off shamelessly with back-handed flips, one finger catches, whirling tosses that arched around lampposts and returned. Ginger kept up with Tony. She caught all his throws and returned them; they were well matched.

The frisbee flashed through the air with the children following. Fred wanted to play, but couldn't do more than wobble the frisbee about five feet through the air before it crashed to the pavement. Tony refused to let Teddy try, a fact that secretly relieved Teddy very much.

Tony's neighborhood spread gently over the hills that led to the sea cliffs. The children left the sound of the crashing ocean behind them as they ran and played farther and farther down the streets. The houses were far apart, each landscaped into it's own little niche.

Tony only knew a few of the neighbors. He hadn't been to the local school yet, and the kids he had already met wouldn't be back from vacation for a few weeks. The family moved often. His father went from one university to another as a guest lecturer. His mother kept trying to find a new job that was more exciting than the last. It seemed to Tony that his parents never made up their minds about where they wanted to be.

Ginger caught the frisbee with her left hand, shifted it to her right, and tossed it snappily down the street. Tony ran full tilt to catch it. Her parents had known Tony's for a long time. They met at university a long time ago and had stayed friends. Ginger and Fred's parents went away, too. The two families took turns baby-sitting the three children, though the commuting distance seemed to increase depending on who was lecturing where.

Ginger didn't like moving around either, but she did enjoy coming to visit Tony. Too bad her little vampire geek brother had to be there. He cried all the time when they left home and kept sucking on his bear when she didn't play with him.

"Throw it to me!" Fred yelled.

Yeah, over a cliff, Tony thought.

Frowning, Ginger flipped the frisbee ferociously at Fred, right toward his head. He ducked and the frisbee sailed past his ear.

"Hey!" Fred cried.

The breeze grabbed the frisbee and tossed it up, changing the arc of its flight. Fooled you! The frisbee seemed to call. It soared up, sailing farther and farther down the street.

"Good shot!" Tony said, despite himself. The frisbee gathered speed, soaring up to treetop level, higher and higher.

The children stared up at the orange disk. It had become a tiny spot of color against the gray clouds. Then it seemed to stop. The frisbee hung against the sky, motionless.

Lazily, the frisbee floated back down, skipping then turning at an impossible angle against the wind, cutting across the air perversely. It sailed through the treetops past a picket fence, past an ornately carved Victorian front porch, slipped through an open window, and disappeared inside a house.

"Wow!" Fred's eyes were open wider than saucers. "How'd you do that?"

"Not on purpose," Ginger scowled.

Even Tony was impressed. "Pret-ty" neat!"

"Are you gonna get it back?" Fred looked up at his sister.

The trio stood looking at a house wrapped in a fence concealed by an overgrown row of bushes. It was not a normal house. It was old, older than the other houses in the neighborhood. Tony's had been built about fifty years ago, but this one looked much older.

Every inch of the house was carved by hand. There were lacy filigrees and curlicues, hand-turned posts, round stained-glass windows, and decorated door-frames. The house was whiter than white from years of baking and bleaching from the sun. It was a color that doesn't come in any can of paint. The house had a moonstone glow that shone out from behind the vines and bushes and wildflowers clinging to it like affectionate cats asking for their dinners. Every inch of the house was carved by hand.

Yet there was a careful order to the tangle of growth around the house. Plants, trees, house grew together: organic. There was harmony that would be destroyed if a single bush or tree or plant or flower were removed.

"I guess…" Ginger answered uncertainly. "I guess we should get the frisbee back." She was unsure of what to do.

"C'mon." Tony announced. He marched toward the house.

"Who lives here?" Fred asked.

"Dunno."

"Maybe nobody's home," Ginger said.

"I'm not sure anybody lives here. I've never seen a car or anything." Then Tony noticed that there wasn't a garage, or even a driveway.

Tony opened the front gate. It creaked with age, but seemed remarkably well kept. They walked up the front walk toward the porch and the massive, oak front door beyond.

To be continued....