Sandbox
Contest Entry
Forum: Dragon Squad
I find myself staring at the small sandbox in the centre of the market square. It really was a smart idea to put a sandpit there, why didn't I think of that? Whilst mommy and daddy do business the kids are occupied yet within eyeshot. Maybe we should get something like that in Capsule Corporations headquarters. Now that Trunks and Marron are expecting their first child we may need something to that effect. But then, the sand would just be a mess. Maybe some sort of complex system of play equipment that just borders on passing OHS standards. You got to make it interesting for a quarter Saiyan I suppose. Here I go again, my mind adrift. What was I thinking about again? Oh yeah, the sand box.
There are two young children who I would estimate are about 5 years of age. I'm not great at determining the age of anything that is half my height or below. I suppose I'll get better at making such assumptions over the next few years when I become 'Aunty Bulla.'
Regardless, there is a '5 or so' year old boy and girl playing together in the sand. He is filling a quarter litre bucket, using a plastic red spade and she is levelling the surrounding sand and organising the little plastic dinosaur figurines to the side to prepare for the upcoming erection of a top notch castle. …Because dinosaurs totally hung out with their pals around castles and all. I mean maybe if they dug a moat around the castle and then got some shark figurines and… okay, getting off topic, now is not the time to be arguing medieval ancient-reptile semantics with myself… again.
I have a feeling I will soon be known as 'weird Aunt Bulla' or 'bat crap crazy Aunt Bulla.' Luckily there are no other Aunt's to draw a comparison, so I may gain some normal-points by default. Although, I'm sure Pan will try squeeze her way into some sort or honorary 'Aunt' status. This I can't accept, she's too normal… and by normal, I mean mentally stable. And by mentally stable, I mean she probably wouldn't wonder off in her thoughts and talk to herself like this when she is supposed to be concentrating on… hang on, what am I doing again?
"Yo Bulla! Could you ring up four jars of Blueberry Bombshell," Uub asked as he packaged four 400ml jam jars into a brown paper bag.
'Blueberry Bombshell', hah, I'm just a genius. No seriously, sometimes I just need to reflect on my masterstrokes. Like, I just need to find a mirror, look myself dead in those crystal blue eyes of mine and say; 'hey Bulla! It doesn't matter if you are a nut-job, you are god-damn gifted! Keep doing what you're doing girl.'
I smile to myself and Uub knows better than to ask me why.
That's right, now I remember. I'm at the car-boot market. I key into my makeshift register, aka my calculator app on my smartphone, 4 jars of the aptly named Blueberry Bombshell and accept 50 zeni cash from a grumpy old man. I return him his 14.50z change and wish him a good-day. He looks like he needs it.
Uub grins as he checks his watch. We were doing very well today. Only noon and we had already made around 30 sales.
"I told you that renaming the jars would work wonders," I chuckle.
Of course he agrees I'm right. I'm always right. I'm not one to brag… Okay that's not true, I brag a little… Fine, I'm a queen… But what is important this time is that I'm not right because I have some legendary upper class status as a member of the illustrious and super rich Briefs family. Nor am I right because my boyfriend Goten always allows me to be, by default ('the girlfriend phenomenon' as Trunks calls it.) Nope this time I am right, because I am actually right.
"You're right, we are completely sold out of Mango Miracle and Strawberry Serenity," he laughs as he says it, an element of sarcasm in his tone. Obviously he can't believe my simple name tweaks would change customer interest to this extent. But the proof is in the pudding… or more literally, in the jam.
If perhaps I were to run into a paparazzo (trust me, not that uncommon) he or she may ask,
'What on Earth is a rich, beautiful powerhouse female such as yourself doing out in a small country town, selling homemade jam from the boot of a four wheel drive, with an exotic stranger who may or may not be your side boyfriend?'
And my response would of course be something along the lines of:
'HEY PAL, WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, I'LL BIG BANG ATTACK YOU INTO NEXT WEEK?!...'
…Okay I suppose at some stage after my long exaggerated adult-tantrum I would eventually succumb to the addressing of those reasonable questions.
Firstly, Uub is not my boyfriend, nor my side boyfriend. I'm not attracted to him in the slightest. I mean don't get me wrong, I can appreciate the fact that he is attractive. He has that fighter physique. And yeah he basically lives in his training clothes, but he cleans up well, damn you should have seen him at Trunks and Marrons' wedding. I hold the notion that just because someone is attractive doesn't mean you are attracted to them. I mean I think Marron is attractive, heck I think Trunks is a handsome man too… let's not analyse that too much shall we Freud.
Anyway, with Uub there's just nothing there. On my part and as hard as it is for me to admit, on his part too.
Yes that is right, there is a male in existence that doesn't keel over at the presence that is Bulla Briefs. Man, If only I had a middle name. That statement could be so much more dramatic. You know what, since I've been kicking major goals today by way of jam flavour naming, maybe I'll just invent my own middle name.
Bulla Beatrice Briefs… nah too much alliteration, I have enough of that already.
Bulla Rose Briefs… yeah the flower thing is cute, but it kinda makes me seem too innocent. That's not really me.
Bulla Tahlia Briefs… I like Tahlia, maybe I'll conspicuously name drop that bad boy around Marron. Tahlia Briefs is cute. And let's face it, Trunks is pathetic at coming up with names.
Still, Tahlia is not for me. Hmmm… Oh screw it! I'll marry Goten, become Bulla Son-Briefs and be done with it! Surely he plans on asking me any day now, Right? Yeah, let's not open that door shall we.
Oh yeah, so another reason why Uub and I aren't anything close to an item. We each have a significant other. I have my dorkalishious, foolish, cutie-pie of a better half, Mr Goten Son. And Uub of course is dating my very good friend Pan. I suppose if marriages were to occur with both parties, Uub and I would technically become related. Maybe if a paparazzo asks I'll just say he's kinda sorta my twice removed brother-in-law-ish… yeah. That'll get them off my case. Those little leeches, always looking to invent a scandal!
I'm counting the earnings from the morning session. By tradition, there is an expected lull in the sales over the lunch break. Most of the customers and vendors are heading to hot food stalls to replenish their energy. I'm actually feeling quite hungry myself. Fortunately Uub has brought sandwiches. Yeah he can be such a domestic goddess. I suppose he has to be since Pan couldn't accomplish a boiled egg in the kitchen. It would be nice if he could teach Goten these cooking skills.
Oh right, I nearly forgot, the jam! Hypothetical Sergeant Paparazzi asked me what the shit a woman like me is doing out in the sticks.
Well, the reason I'm here, is twofold:
1. In my teen years I was a spoiled little brat
2. In my early 20s I've become a decent and compassionate member of society
When I was 17 and acting up (I can't remember the specifics but I'm pretty sure I utilised my super strength upside a disgruntled employee's head) my mother sought to punish me.
I was made to participate in 40 hours charity service else have my line of credit severed. My goodness I was such a rotten young girl.
Anyway, it soon came to my mother's attention that the young man (who I hadn't bothered to learn his name) that was frequently seen training alongside Pan as Goku's apprentice was selling his village's produce on a fortnightly basis to make a small amount of money. It's pretty disgraceful that I attempted just to pay him out in lieu of actually lifting my pretty little (and well-manicured) fingers. God forbid I would portray the image of a person who actually gave a damn. Fortunately he didn't accept, and my mother reminded me of my 40 hour sentence.
To be honest I have no idea why I never properly 'met' Uub before that point. Of course I'd seen him, but I had never spoken to him or even acted as if he existed.
I mean, he was of a very very exclusive group of humans who were on the 'in' of what intergalactic dead race I am half descendent from. Say what you want, but that's important to me. I should have at least acknowledged his existence. I suppose at the time I saw people for their socio-economic status, net-wealth, fame and nothing else. By those standards, Uub was a complete and utter loser. A poor, unattractive, weak, good for nothing loser.
Did I mention how much of a brat I was?
I remember the first market we went to. I remember complaining. There was no way in hell a delicate flower such as myself was going to get in Uub's disturbing four wheel drive. It was like 7 years old, dirty, and the suspension was not smooth. Cars were important to me, and I would not be caught dead in such a disgusting excuse for a vehicle. I complained enough that Uub just agreed to go in my car. He laughed at me when I realised how stupid and impractical it was to sell jam jars out of the boot of a fancy sports convertible. I was not impressed.
His music choice was an aberration. It still is honestly. I remember complaining that the jars looked stupid and the jam was unappetising. I remember pretending to be utterly indifferent when the 'commoners' (as I liked to call them) did not recognise me as an important celebrity. They thanked me genuinely for the most menial tasks such as carrying a tray of jars to their car. They treated me like a standard human being. I didn't know why, but that made me feel all strange inside. I remember Uub smiling at me after uncovering my false pretences. He was perceptive, and never bitter. He still is.
I remember talking. Talking to someone who didn't see me as a superior being, even though I thought myself as one. I was both enraged and refreshed at such conversation. We talked often. And about everything. Goten and Pan, Capsule Corporation, his village, our families, our friends, Trunks and Marron. I stand by the fact that it was Uub and I who implemented operation get Trunks and Marron back together after their short and ill-conceived breakup 2 years ago. You'd think we were two people who would have nothing to talk about. And I'll admit for the first few markets it was really awkward. But somehow, there was a light bulb moment and we realised we had more things in common than we had differences.
When Capsule Corporations was in a shamble after the death of my grandfather Dr Briefs, Uub didn't speak to me about it. I was getting enough 'support' from everywhere else. Goten and Marron constantly asking me if I was 'okay.' Co-workers crying on the job. My mother a bitter mess and my father actually trying to cheer us all up (boy that was weird.)
But Uub… he said nothing. And that was what I needed. Someone who would just be normal when everything else was array. Someone to remind me that life was still just as good and would go on.
The 40 hours were finished sooner than I thought and I was free to return to my self-absorbed shell of a life. But here we are, 4 year later, and I'm making executive business decisions about jam titles and watching what was originally a small side-line business turn into our own bizarre (slightly creepy) little empire.
Here I am, spending a good part of my Saturday trialling new jam recipes and welcoming my boyfriend home from his training sessions in my apron, with jam all over my upperlip. (Trust me, to him that's a turn on.)
Here we are every first and third Sunday of the month, trading jams jellies and marmalades for small change that helps a village in need. Fortunately, I have found a way to more substantially help Uub's home land out financially. Under a new scheme I have implemented as the new Foreign Relations manager for Capsule Corp. Uub never wanted a handout, but this scheme involved offering education scholarships to the children of the village and sending research teams out to build Capsule brand irrigation, sanitation and agricultural systems. Our team got to learn the ins and outs of Capsule technology and the village was heavily benefitted. It was a win-win.
We really don't need to continue this jam-trade. It is probably losing us money if you consider the time and petrol involved. Yet neither of us can bear to part ways with our Jam escapades… Jamcapades? Yeah… Jamcapades. Hey, new business name idea! I better write that down.
Anyway, the whole thing just got me thinking. If you ask anyone else, they would tell you that two people of opposite genders can't be platonically 'friends.' They might also add that two people of opposite socio-economic status may be in the exact same boat.
It's taken me 21 years of existence but I've come to the conclusion they are wrong.
Uub and I are like two kids in a sandbox.
Children are a purity of a rare variety. They are perceptive enough to notice differences in people. They know the difference between boy and girl, between black and white, and between rich and poor. Yet, at the same time, they are smart enough not to invoke such differences as a reason not to play dinosaurs and sand castles with another human being.
There is a 5 'or so' year old boy and girl playing together in the sand. He is filling a quarter litre bucket, using a plastic red spade and she is levelling the surrounding sand and organising the little plastic figurine dinosaurs to the side to prepare for the upcoming erection of a top notch castle. I look a little closer and I can see that the girl is wearing expensive brand shoes. Her skin is alabaster and her cream coloured hair is tied up ever so neatly. The boy is wearing rugged looking hand-me-downs. There are tears in his pants revealing his caramel coloured skin. I didn't notice any of this the first time I looked.
Uub and I have this platonic relationship of a strange kind. He is one of the few who doesn't see me as a superior being. I suppose I do like a little of that. I like the way Goten treats me like a princess. What is important is that he has enough self-confidence to know the difference between being chivalrous and being a pushover. I love my life. I love being rich, I even love the fame. I love being a Saiyan. I love being a Briefs. I love being Goten's girlfriend. I love being Trunks and Marron's sister. I love being Bulma and Vegeta's daughter. There is nothing wrong with loving who you are. As long as you don't use it as an excuse for bigotry.
As much as I love it all, sometimes when I start to feel like I am lost in a world of business and appearances and red carpet events and attempting to get my head together, It's nice to have an outside party be there for you. To level your bucket full of sand so to speak.
I suppose we never should have been friends. We are far too different. From different worlds (more literally than a standard person would know.) But you know what, the little girl seems happy.
Despite the way the boy practically shoves all 5 dinosaurs into the sand castle base making it crumble at the foundation. All that hard work and he just goes and does a stupid thing like that. I'm frustrated just thinking about it… But, she's still happy.
The thing about sand is that it can be found anywhere in the world. Despite the way in which it gets built up and broken down, it's always there.
That's what I think anyway.
This is my entry for Dragon Squad's Contest 1: Unlikely Friendship. You are all welcome (and encouraged) to participate in the Dragon Squad forum activity and chat!
So Bulla/Uub is actually my closet ship. But I kinda like them in this regard just as much; unexpectedly good friends.
Reviews are appreciated! Cheers
