“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?”
“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?”