Saucer in the Dunes

37 Saturday

"Ohhhhhh maaaaaaaannnn," Ronnie drawled quietly.

"I saw these in the Sears catalog. They're even cooler in person."

I had yet to tell him why I had them out and why he was getting one. Ronnie held the walkie-talkie like a piece of sophisticated, technical military equipment. Well, it was, to us anyway. That was also the perfect opportunity to tell him what I had promised my mom. So, while he gripped the walkie-talkie and reveled in the fact that it was to be practically his, I spilled what we were in for that day.

"Wait a minute," Ronnie said, trying hard to swallow his French toast without choking.

"You mean today? Is she coming with us today? It's Saturday, and everyone will be out."

It was sinking in and fast.

"I know, man," I whispered, waving my hands for him to keep it down.

"It's my fault, so you can just be mad at me. I'm pretty much able to do anything I want now, though, as long as I don't get into trouble. They told me last night."

Ronnie's eyes widened as he cut another piece of French toast and swirled it in his plate full of syrup.

"I'm not mad. It's just that I've never seen a mom anywhere we go and never seen one who even wanted to see where we go. Your mom's different. She's a lot younger than the other mom's around here, I guess. She's always been nice to me. We'll figure it out."

Ronnie punctuated his thoughts by punching me on the shoulder.

We ate the rest of our breakfast, and Ronnie helped me clean off the table and do the dishes. Mom was super happy about that when she returned from the laundry room.

"Oh, I've got two helpers today! Ronnie, are you going with us on the tour?"

"Yes, ma'am. I need to. I'm not sure Kurt remembers all the places; besides, I can tell you all the stories about the places."

"Well, guys, should we walk or take my car?"

Ronnie and I looked at each other. Neither of us thought about taking the car. I had imagined riding our bikes, but of course, Mom didn't have a bike.

"I guess we could take the car to the square and just walk everywhere from there," Ronnie offered.

"Good! You boys, give me a few minutes, and I'll be ready to go."

We finished and went outside to wait. Back in Atlanta, I always heard Dad say that a few minutes could mean anything up to an hour. I didn't bother Ronnie with that detail. We needed time to strategize anyway.

"We'll take her to the beach, to Ronson's, the ball field, town, even though that's no big deal to her, I'm sure, maybe the library too. We can take her and show her my house where we camp out. My mom's not home, but it's okay. We can take her to Jimmy's, David's, and even Mike's house. Those are the only guys I like to hang around with. David and Mike just got back from Summer camp too. I hope they can come. Try to get her not to say anything about the weenie roast to the rest of the guys if we see them. We don't want to have to deal with a bunch of dumbasses."

I couldn't have agreed more, but sometimes it was hard to ask Mom to shut her mouth. Dad even had a hard time. Mom was friendly, always was. Dad said she never met a stranger. It was going to be impossible for me. But if I didn't, Mom would ask everyone we saw.

"I'll see what I can do. Maybe you and I should just pass out the invitations."

Mom made me help her first thing with making the invitations the other night. She had paper measured out in lines already and cut to size. Dad and I wrote 'Powell Weenie Roast' across the top of each spaced line. Underneath that, we wrote our address, phone number, and date. She cut them up into squares, and we were supposed to hand them out as we went around.