My Little Cricket
Posted: 22 May 2017, 01:12
Text: Get the **** out of town. Really?
Birdee sat crossed legged on her bed, in her bedroom, in Louvel’s farmhouse as she typed furiously at the keypad on her phone. She glanced at the time on her alarm clock as Birdee waited for the confirmation to what she thought the other person on the other side of the conversation was saying.
Text: Yeaaaaa, dead serious. After graduation. Mom said it was my graduation present. If that’s okay with you. Please say it is, because she already got the plane ticket and it’s non-refundable.
Birdee hopped on the bed and knew her answer before she even checked if it was okay with Louvel. He wouldn’t mind a guest for a few weeks would he? There was a big enough couch-plus her bed was big enough for two people. Probably even five. Birdee had managed to sleep a lot of people in the small space of her tiny apartment from parties that never really seemed to end on the weekends.
Text: ****, yes! Totally! It’ll be great to see you Cricket. Can’t wait!
A few seconds later a smiley face emoticon followed with a party one lit up the screen on her phone, before Birdee hopped off the bed, her bare feet pounding against the cool floor in her bedroom. “Oh, Looooou!” Birdee called out for her brother as she opened her bedroom door and went in search of him. He just had to say yes. But, if he didn’t, she still had her apartment until her lease was up in a few months. Either way, Cricket was coming and it would work out.
---
Birdee stood inside the airport near the luggage terminal with a sign made out of cardboard. Large letters spelled out C-R-I-C-K-E-T in bold, neon colors with all sorts of shapes and blotches around the letters on it. There was about a nine year age gap between her and her cousin, but they were thick as thieves. How could they not be, with two mom’s like theirs? Add in the fact that while Birdee was thirty, she refused to actually act thirty. Or act like most thirty year olds. The kind that wanted to settle down, do the kids thing and chain themselves to some dead end, meaningless job that, when on their deathbed, they’ll regret putting in thirty or forty years at a company who didn’t even call them or send a get well soon card when they were at their lowest points. **** that.
And yes. Her name really was Cricket. Hippy mom’s for you. And dad’s. It was actually Birdee’s uncle who named the girl. When she was born on a hot, sticky, summer morning, she had come early and was a tiny little thing. They had no names picked out, but that night as the sun was starting to set and he was outside smoking his favorite nicotine stick, the gentle chirping of crickets in the grassy woodlands outside the hospital caught his ear. And so, Cricket was so aptly named for the season she was born, and her size. And Birdee thought her soul was so ******* beautiful. Cricket was amazing. Bolder than Birdee, but more collected and stronger too. She wasn’t afraid or deterred by people, but then again, she wasn’t born with a single gift-that anyone knew of. Birdee wondered how different she would be if she didn’t have the burden of ‘seeing’ or ‘hearing’ the impending signs around her.
“CRICKET!” Birdee shouted once she saw that long, dishwater colored hair that almost mirrored her own. Cricket glanced around while Birdee danced and waved the sign around in the air, proudly displaying her art...or whatever it was. A fourth grader probably could have done something better, but **** it.
The thinner, younger girl squeezed between people as she tucked her hair behind her ears, while her pace picked up. “HOLA!” Cricket said as both her arms wrapped around Birdee, who did the same. Just before a hip check and then an arm around the girl’s shoulders. “Have a good flight? Get a meal? Cookies? You look skinny. Don’t they feed you in college?”
The sign dropped down next to Birdee as she looked at the moving bag claim. “Well, I’m going raw vegan, so I don’t eat a lot of crap anymore.” Birdee looked at her cousin mortified. If Glory Daddy had heard that, he could get her to change her mind with one of his weiners. Maybe later. “I don’t even know what that means. What do you eat? Grass?” Birdee dropped her voice as she looked around. “Or smoke it? I know where to get some good grass.” Cricket was tame compared to Birdee on her drug or alcohol using, but she did occasionally drink, and smoke. At least that was what Cricket had told her about a year ago.
“How’s my favorite aunt and uncle?” Birdee asked as Cricket looked at her thin paper copy of her flight details where she wrote down the baggage claim letter she would need. She pointed to ‘C’ and then answered Birdee. “No grass. Yet. And they’re good. Getting ready to do the cross country college trip with Binga. She could go to UCLA if she wants.” Binga was Cricket’s younger sister, who could probably go to college anywhere and they both knew it. “Cool. Let’s get your bag, get you some raw...whatever and get out of here.”
Cricket: https://s-media-cache-ak0.p i n i m g.com/73 ... 3d2459.jpg
Birdee sat crossed legged on her bed, in her bedroom, in Louvel’s farmhouse as she typed furiously at the keypad on her phone. She glanced at the time on her alarm clock as Birdee waited for the confirmation to what she thought the other person on the other side of the conversation was saying.
Text: Yeaaaaa, dead serious. After graduation. Mom said it was my graduation present. If that’s okay with you. Please say it is, because she already got the plane ticket and it’s non-refundable.
Birdee hopped on the bed and knew her answer before she even checked if it was okay with Louvel. He wouldn’t mind a guest for a few weeks would he? There was a big enough couch-plus her bed was big enough for two people. Probably even five. Birdee had managed to sleep a lot of people in the small space of her tiny apartment from parties that never really seemed to end on the weekends.
Text: ****, yes! Totally! It’ll be great to see you Cricket. Can’t wait!
A few seconds later a smiley face emoticon followed with a party one lit up the screen on her phone, before Birdee hopped off the bed, her bare feet pounding against the cool floor in her bedroom. “Oh, Looooou!” Birdee called out for her brother as she opened her bedroom door and went in search of him. He just had to say yes. But, if he didn’t, she still had her apartment until her lease was up in a few months. Either way, Cricket was coming and it would work out.
---
Birdee stood inside the airport near the luggage terminal with a sign made out of cardboard. Large letters spelled out C-R-I-C-K-E-T in bold, neon colors with all sorts of shapes and blotches around the letters on it. There was about a nine year age gap between her and her cousin, but they were thick as thieves. How could they not be, with two mom’s like theirs? Add in the fact that while Birdee was thirty, she refused to actually act thirty. Or act like most thirty year olds. The kind that wanted to settle down, do the kids thing and chain themselves to some dead end, meaningless job that, when on their deathbed, they’ll regret putting in thirty or forty years at a company who didn’t even call them or send a get well soon card when they were at their lowest points. **** that.
And yes. Her name really was Cricket. Hippy mom’s for you. And dad’s. It was actually Birdee’s uncle who named the girl. When she was born on a hot, sticky, summer morning, she had come early and was a tiny little thing. They had no names picked out, but that night as the sun was starting to set and he was outside smoking his favorite nicotine stick, the gentle chirping of crickets in the grassy woodlands outside the hospital caught his ear. And so, Cricket was so aptly named for the season she was born, and her size. And Birdee thought her soul was so ******* beautiful. Cricket was amazing. Bolder than Birdee, but more collected and stronger too. She wasn’t afraid or deterred by people, but then again, she wasn’t born with a single gift-that anyone knew of. Birdee wondered how different she would be if she didn’t have the burden of ‘seeing’ or ‘hearing’ the impending signs around her.
“CRICKET!” Birdee shouted once she saw that long, dishwater colored hair that almost mirrored her own. Cricket glanced around while Birdee danced and waved the sign around in the air, proudly displaying her art...or whatever it was. A fourth grader probably could have done something better, but **** it.
The thinner, younger girl squeezed between people as she tucked her hair behind her ears, while her pace picked up. “HOLA!” Cricket said as both her arms wrapped around Birdee, who did the same. Just before a hip check and then an arm around the girl’s shoulders. “Have a good flight? Get a meal? Cookies? You look skinny. Don’t they feed you in college?”
The sign dropped down next to Birdee as she looked at the moving bag claim. “Well, I’m going raw vegan, so I don’t eat a lot of crap anymore.” Birdee looked at her cousin mortified. If Glory Daddy had heard that, he could get her to change her mind with one of his weiners. Maybe later. “I don’t even know what that means. What do you eat? Grass?” Birdee dropped her voice as she looked around. “Or smoke it? I know where to get some good grass.” Cricket was tame compared to Birdee on her drug or alcohol using, but she did occasionally drink, and smoke. At least that was what Cricket had told her about a year ago.
“How’s my favorite aunt and uncle?” Birdee asked as Cricket looked at her thin paper copy of her flight details where she wrote down the baggage claim letter she would need. She pointed to ‘C’ and then answered Birdee. “No grass. Yet. And they’re good. Getting ready to do the cross country college trip with Binga. She could go to UCLA if she wants.” Binga was Cricket’s younger sister, who could probably go to college anywhere and they both knew it. “Cool. Let’s get your bag, get you some raw...whatever and get out of here.”
Cricket: https://s-media-cache-ak0.p i n i m g.com/73 ... 3d2459.jpg
