“Here.” Aaron gave me a tiny twig that he found during his rock search. I broke it in half with my two fingers and dropped it. His mouth fell open and then his face crumbled into a fake cry that made me laugh.
“Shut up.” I knocked his shoulder with mine.
I grabbed dirt from the dusty ground and repositioned away from the group.
I noticed critter crawling on the log, and I imagined them entering my pants. I refocused my attention to the sand trickling out of my hands and between my fingers. The texture was cold, dry, and lifeless, glistening in the moonlight. To relax my thoughts from insects, I followed the dirt as it flew out of my hand and into the night’s breeze. The breeze mixed its nightly potion with the smoke from the bonfire, burning hot dogs, marshmallows, and the smell of salt from the Dead Sea. However, all of this soothed my senses.
The bonfire’s orange and yellow flames danced in the wind as if they praised the stars above. The Big Dipper and David’s Belt beautified the campsite above. The stars grew brighter and very noticeable by the minutes and the moon dominated the night.
Usually, I would nudge Aaron to stop staring up at the sky, but now, I understood why. The solar system and the universe created a sense of a whole new world that needed to be explored.
Suddenly, I heard nothing. The chatter among the group stopped. I lowered my head forward, and everyone stared at me. I used my senses to figure out what happened and nothing but giggles were directed at me. Dad, who stood on the other side of the bonfire, caught my eyes with his. His face shined with embarrassment. I smiled back, unaware of the situation. Was he talking to me?
My mind entertains the thought of plants, especially when there’s nature all around me, and how precious plants and now, stars are. Did you know that plants could live up to—See! I did it again. I slowly turned my bright smile to Aaron and Wheatly sitting next to me so they could fill me in on what I missed, but their guilty giggles turned my smile sour. I knew exactly why their grin stretched from ear to ear and why their tummies burst with laughter. The joke was on me.
Dad’s famous campfire story had begun. Stories that he wouldn’t let twiddle away but told as a tradition each year. The time when he bought two parakeet birds named Chat and Rabbit for our home garden.
“Come on, son, we don’t have all night,” He urged me as twelve youth kids chuckled at him and me. He fidgeted with the script in his hand, and everyone probably thought that his own sons had enough of his imagination, and I questioned if they were wrong.
“But my hand. Remember?” I translated the same message that he sent to me.
“Ah, this will do you some good. Get up here now.” Everyone sat silently, and the mood became tense.
I struggled with disobedience and quickly relented, “Wheatly gets jealous when you pick me for stuff.” I grabbed Wheatly by his left arm, purposefully squeezed Aaron in the middle, and I whispered, “If you want to go on the adventure with Aaron and me, then you’ll do the stupid show.” Wheatly’s head lifted with joy.
“You promise?” He held up his pinky.
“Pinky swear.” Risking the pain from my hand, I hooked mine around his.
“Dad, please!” Wheatly begged.
“Well, if it’s okay with Wellington, then get up here and lets begin the show.” The kids cheered on Wheatly as he pumped his arms up into the air, getting them hyped for another Chat and Rabbit tale. Pastor Patrick and Chris clapped, relieved.
He told the story of how he bought me my first pet birds at age five and how I named them Chat and Rabbit. Apparently, I was terrible at naming things back then. He would tell Aaron and I that Chat and Rabbit would escape during the night to solve mysteries. Aaron and I used to believe these stories until we realized that animals do not talk, but Dad insisted Chat and Rabbit did. He claimed that he heard them one night discussing their next adventure and when he poked his head into my bedroom, they started chirping again.
As a thirteen-year-old kid, I attended these camping trips and acted out the scenes from my Dad’s Chat and Rabbit scripts. Now, as an aspiring eighteen-year-old scientist, I was too old for make believe, so passing on the torch only seemed right. Plus, Wheatly seemed perfect for the role. Wheatly followed five years behind me, and he enjoyed every moment of it. He gracefully hopped from one side of the fire pit to the next as Dad read from the script.
“Adventure?” Aaron whispered to me. “What about your hand?”
“It’s not broken.”
“What about Uncle Robert?”
“He didn't say we couldn’t go.”
“Where are we going? Is it safe?” He glimpsed over his shoulder at the darkness that surrounded us, and he stuttered, “I hardly can see anything.”
“I’m sure they’ll be plenty of rocks for you to collect if you go.” I showed him a pebble in the palm of my hand and watched Aaron’s scary thoughts vanish into thin air. He picked up the pebble and analyzed. He stared at rocks for hours and wondered how each type of rocks had been formed. Aaron lifted the pebble up to the sky to measure it against the moon. “Do you think the moon is composed of the same minerals that this rock has?” he marveled, and I squinted and thought how Aaron's overwhelming rock collection didn't compare to my small plant garden back home.
Aaron’s dad, my uncle, would have enjoyed Aaron’s appreciation for nature. He died in a car crash a week after Aaron graced this earth. Ever since then, Aaron’s eyes have been glued to the sky, gazing up into the heavens. Thankfully, Dad stepped up and practically raised Aaron within our family. In fact, the story of Chat and Rabbit becoming natural scientists to save the farm from producing bad crops established Aaron’s and my love for science. I guess that story molded my and Aaron’s life.
Our whole life we dreamt of solving diseases, determined to discover rare things in the world and to make a name for ourselves. We both wanted to make it in the World Book Encyclopedia and most of all, receive a Nobel Peace Prize before we reached the age of thirty. Suddenly, I remembered that Aaron ignored my purpose question, so I asked again, “What is your purpose in life?”
“Oh, jeez, I don't know.”
“Come on, Aaron. Don't you want to be a scientist too? You like rocks, and you love the moon. Those are big goals there.” Aaron twitched from side to side as he tapped his heel against the log. Finally, his mouth opened, and I waited for something amazing, creative, or challenging to fall out, but he said, “To survive, I guess.” And he shrugged.
I grumbled, “That isn't a purpose.”
“Chill. I see my mom struggle to provide for her and me every day, so I just want to survive through life. It’s hard you know.”
I rested my arm on Aaron's shoulder and said, “To survive and to be my partner in science.”
We both smirked at each other when Wheatly sat next to Aaron and leaned over to me. “Mission Completed.”
“Okay, boys.” Pastor Patrick stood up and smacked off the dirt from his pants. “We will wake up bright and early tomorrow, eat breakfast, and visit Jerusalem for shopping. Then we will head home.”
I stretched my arms to the sky and then swung them from side to side to loosen up my back. Curiosity filled my mind as darkness completely covered the land, mountains, and caves. Everyone helped clean up before running towards the tents.
“Come on, boys.” Dad motioned for us to get inside; one adult supervising four kids in a tent. We shared a tent with my father and Gary; they slept like logs and snored every night, and I hoped they would do the same again tonight.
Dad stopped me before entering the tent. “Welly, I know I promised that we would explore more this trip.” He grinned, feeling guilty for breaking his promise. “But, look at it this way. We can always try again next year.”
“I'm going to be in the Elite Scientific Program and wouldn't have time to come back next year.”
“Well, just maybe.” He patted my shoulder and went inside of the tent.
I grabbed Aaron and Wheatly by the arms before they entered and whispered, “Bright and early we explore.”
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