“I
can’t believe you shanghaied us to here.” Glaring out the car window, Star
twisted her long auburn hair nervously around her hands. Streaming sunlight illuminated
the red tint in her dark tresses with strands of gold gleaming sporadically
throughout her long locks. Trees flew past her window, causing a dizzying display
of brown and green. “Seriously mom, we could be headed straight into a den of
inbred serial killers. Haven’t you seen Wrong
Turn? There could be cannibalistic mountain men lurking everywhere!”
Star
switched her glare from the passing scenery to her mothers’ reflection in the
rear view mirror. Sarah, her mother, was the epitome of perfection, with long
strawberry blond hair cut to frame her fairy like face. Her large, slightly angled violet eyes were
her most capturing feature. Their jewel
like tone sparked with irritation, causing Star’s own eyes, the same jewel tone
but with gray flecks causing it to appear murky, to flare with rebellion.
Sighing,
Sarah met her daughters gaze. “Star, we’ve been over this a million times.
There are no mutant freaks, ‘cannibalistic
mountain men’, or deranged serial killers here. I wish you’d quit watching so
many scary movies.”
Slouching
down, Star replied, “Hey, I did my research. Ten horror movies are based in Virginia.”
“Let
me guess, Google?” Sarah looked to her husband, silently pleading for help.
Paul looked up as if seeking divine intervention.
“I
like being informed.”
“They’re
movies Star, not reality. And
besides, there’s as much of a chance of you being eaten or murdered in
California as there is here.” Her father added oh so helpfully.
Sitting
up straighter, Star turned her glare on him. Her father’s baby blue eyes
sparkled with mirth. “Gee, thanks dad. I feel so much better about my chances
of survival.”
Grinning,
Paul said “Glad to help keep you informed.”
“You’re
not helping.” Sarah whispered with an elegant eye roll.
“Well
it’s the truth. We could have moved to Florida and faced flesh eating bath salt
zombies instead. But, hey, I’d rather face the possibility of cannibalistic
mountain men over zombies any day. There’s more of a survival rate that way.”
Shrugging, he turned his full attention back to the twisting road ahead of
them.
Star
slumped back in her seat and turned up the music on her iPod, watching the
scenery of the Blue Ridge Mountains pass by.
Twenty
minutes later, they passed a redwood sign saying Welcome to Shiloh, Home of the Mighty Beavers. Incredulously, Star
twisted around in her seat, staring at the sign to see if it would actually
change. Whipping her head around, she stared out the windshield.
“I’m
going to a school of beavers,” she muttered.
“What
pumpkin?” Her father asked.
“Dad,
do you know the school mascot is?”
“Umm…”
“Beavers.”
“What?”
“Shiloh
is home of the Beavers!”
Her
father and mother turned silent. Then, one by one they started laughing.
“It’s
not funny.”
“Of
course it’s not dear,” Her mother replied between giggles, “Beavers are very
respectable woodland creatures.”
“I
cannot go to a school of beavers! Dad, let’s go to Florida, surely we’d be able
to withstand a zombie attack?”
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