Soda in the trees
Who? "fairy godmother" What? "soda" Where? "the great outdoors"
Tim was pressed up against the passenger side window of his fathers Geo Tracker.  He watched the raindrops land on this miserable car far from their majestic home in the Ocean.  Quickly joining up with each other, they worked cooperatively to form streams and escape their fate.  Soon enough they would stream off of the car and land on the road joining even more of their friends.  And then these groups would flow into an even larger group and form the rivers where they would work their ways home.  But Tim's friends weren't here to help him.  He was one of the unlucky ones who's fate was to sit on the window, with no other raindrops to help him escape.  How could he get back to Beverly Hills when he was stuck in Oregon with his father.  His father.  A strange old man whom he hardly knew, and had not desire for this to change.  His parents had never really been together in the first place.  Just a single college date that had ended as soon as the alcohol had worn off.
  Tim was sent up to be with his father for a few weeks every couple of years.  This usually meant his Mother had a new prospective boyfriend and didn't want Tim around making things more complicated.  As it was, if things worked out as well as she hoped, Tim would fly down in a few weeks and the husband to be would get a nice surprise.  And then he would run- they always did.  Tim smiled at that.  And he figured that was probably why his mother was so bitter about him.  His friends were his true family- and he missed the latest movies, cars, fashions, warm beaches and high tech gadgets that defined their life.  Now here he was stuck in a junker that shook violently as it attempted to do the speed limit on his way to go camping.  A miserable activity.  Nothing but cold, bugs and mud Tim thought.  his face was pressed firmly against the window in a futile attempt to escape his father- turning his cheek into some sort of pancake.  Slowly turned and looked over at his father.  He had a scraggly full beard and dirty knitted pink hat.  It was hard to tell where the hair ended and his face began- and somewhere in the mix was a pair of square glasses.  Underneath his denim vest was a bright orange shirt depicting some band that the world was better off without.  And his pants were most definitely made for a girl.  Portlanders certainly dressed weird.  Time couldn't even fathom how the people could live when the official state designer store was Goodwill.  Past his father was the Mighty Columbia- basically one giant moving lake.  At least that isn't so bad, except that it's freezing!  The small car entered a tunnel, veering to the side now that his father didn't have to compensate for the extreme wind that defined the Columbia River Gorge.  Staring at the wall of the man made cave, Tim thought of the cruelty of childhood fairy-tales.  How he wished that a Fairy Godmother would come and sweep him away back home.  Certainly his need was greater than Cinderellas- he lived with the equivalent of an evil step mom and certainly that was better than this hell.  But of course there would be no Fairy Godmother, and the idea of a miraculous savior just tormented him further.  Suddenly the tunnel ended, and immediately his father swerved the little car off  exit.  There was a concrete structure immediately on the right that looked like some ancient relic.  The road wound up through the trees and they arrived at the parking lot.  His father hopped out of the car and opened up the trunk, all without saying a word.  The raining had mostly stopped since they exited the highway, but Tim could hardly tell with all the drops falling off of the trees.  The water was still forming rivers making it's way back home.  Tim imagined himself in a raft... no a yacht with tv, video games and warm food... sailing down the little streams toward his home.  And his friends.  Plop!  Tim looked down to see a heavy old backpack in his lap.  He hadn't even seen his father put it there- let alone open the car door.  "lets go" said his father- the only words he had spoken the entire trip.
     Tim pulled the black poncho off the top of his archaic backpack and put it on.  To his dismay, Tim discovered that the poncho was nothing more than a heavy duty garbage bag with holes cut in it.  The backpack also had a garbage bag over it, exposing only the metal frame.  Tim got out of the car and threw the beast over his shoulder, nearly falling over as he did so.  As it was he took a few steps backward in the slippery mud.  Without even a chuckle his father marched up the trail.  Tim followed begrudgingly- wishing he hadn't forgotten his I-pod at home.  A need for it was pulsing out of him, drawing him toward home even more.  The idea of a long boring hike without it made his stomach knot up.  With no other option he struggled to catch up with his father.
    Too be continued...

Elton4562   Elton4562 wrote
on 5/30/2010 5:01:46 PM
A great start. The description of the father was particularly well-written. Don't make us wait too long for the rest of it, please. Elton

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Tim's mother once again has a new boyfriend- meaning Tim must go stay with his weird father in Oregon.