Tuesday, December 11, 2018

Dada: Chapter Eleven

   "I don't think that was much of a breakfast," Sam squeaked.
   "You sure ate enough of it," I respond.  When is his voice finally going to stop cracking?  I don't remember anyone I knew having this much of a problem, but then most of my friends got their spurts over the summer when I wasn't around.  Still.
    "All there was were donuts and cereal.  And not enough of them, either."
    "It's called a 'continental breakfast.' Supposedly, it is what people in Europe prefer to start the day.  Something light, maybe some eggs and dairy.  As compared to the 'full English' breakfast which has tons of meat.  More like what we have in America.  Oh, they also have things like tomatoes and beans at times.  Lots of fried food as well."
     "Beans?" he whined. "You've got to be kidding me."
     "Trust me.  It happens."
     We had been up since six, over an hour ago.  After a quick cleaning up, we ate the 'breakfast' the hotel provided.  Sam ate three donuts and some cereal with bananas and strawberries.  Fortunately, I was able to grab the blueberry jelly before Sam did.  It was more of a thick compote filling with real fruit, compared to the gooey blob you usually get.  Both have their perks, but I like the goo best.  It might not be a 'real,' but it eats better.  Softer.  I also had some scrambled eggs, orange juice, and coffee.  The hotel also had some bacon, but neither of us wanted it.  Apparently, neither of us wanted it, even the bottomless stomach who is my brother.
   The last few minutes had been quiet as we drove north to New York.  I knew what was 'coming' and I was dreading it.  Sam was too young to know the code.  He was definitely going to bring it up.  He probably talks to his friends about it, but it would be awkward if he brings it up with me.  But I was the one who spoke up about it last night, so he probably thinks we can talk about this.  We can't, but we're going to. I keep Hits 1 on to try and keep him still.
    "Why did you call me "Jack" last night?  Did you forget my name?"
     And there it is.  At least the cracking is appropriate.
    "Sam, I know your name.  It was kind of a joke.  Back in high school, guys would use that word for what you were doing last night.  It wasn't until college that I found out that it wasn't as common as another word that begins and ends with the same letters.  That's the word you would probably be more familiar with, the one you and your friends would use.  Say.  The word you would hear from older guys.  Of course, we shouldn't use either word, because no one does that.  Even if you do, even if most guys about your age do, you don't say you do.  It's just a 'guy code' thing.  I only did that last night to have some fun.  It's sort of a right of passage for a guy to get caught.  But don't ask me about what happened when I was your age about that.  Older guys, especially those who aren't your father, should not be talking too much about such things.  I don't know if it is right, or not.  There probably should be some talking, but I just don't know."
     I'm starting to sweat.  This was one of the things I was most nervous about.  I never got to have talk about this with an actual adult when I was his age.
     "Okay," Sam drawls out.  He turns his head back towards the window as he says it, making it last even longer.  "That was nice to know."

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