Fry Daddy
I don't make the rules
My family lives in Vermont so I drive up to see them.
“Be there for dinner” I text everyone.
“Right on” my brother says.
I arrive with my bag of clothes, bag of provisions, and bag of six books for a one to two night stay.
After dinner my brother suggests a quick Electric bike ride through the corn field.
“I only packed sundresses.” I tell my mom. She gives me her leggings and my dad’s long sleeve hoodie to protect from bugs. I slap on her purple crocs and I I am ready to e-bike. Who is she?
My brother grabs my old bike helmet from an unmarked under the staircase cubby.
“Never thought I’d go biking again?” I ask.
It’s actually MY E-bike. We each have one. So we can be a fleet. A few years ago I declared it: two e-bikes is a fleet.
We take off down the freshly mowed field at sunset. He zips off some peaks and gets some air. I grip the breaks and try not to die when he has me follow him through the woods on a trail with rocks and sticks at dark. We end our spin with a quick stint to go visit the lady slippers. We race home down the dirt road and try not to accidentally inhale a lightening bug.
They are everywhere.
He takes go pro footage of me riding the bike but when I ask him about it later he says, “it’s at large.”
I love my brother. I love Vermont. There’s nothing better than activities that make you just feel really alive.
The next day we go fishing in his canoe. He picks me up on his ATV and I get on because I think we are taking the road but he darts it trough the woods on a shortcut.
“Stop screaming.” he says.
I get my fishing license online (easy peasy mac and cheesy) checking “no” for their non optional question about if I am delinquent on child support. (I thought we were going fishing, HUH?)
We drive an hour to a resevoir surrounded by mountains. I use the porta potty at the parking lot. Inside someone wrote with sharpie:
I LIKE MY WOMEN THIQUE LIKE MY SOUP
I tell my brother.
It takes us about three hours to get our first bite but we each catch a fish and we also rescue a cool moth that was drowning.
“That hat suits you.” My brother says. It’s his hat. I don’t know if he’s joking because I feel like a goober.
We drive home and sing along to his favorite bluegrass song.
We fry up the fish in his new kitchen appliance, THE FRY DADDY.
“You should get one.” he says.
“I want a fry mommy.” I say, and take a bite of fried fish. He throws in some potatoes and we munch on fries.
We have a bonfire and when the flames die down around midnight, he pops on a venison steak.
“Venison steaks at midnight?” My crush texts this morning.
“I don’t make the rules.” I say.
I don’t.