"They're here, Dad."
A foreboding figure stood alongside the boy and peered through the glass,
"That they are." He putting the curtain back in place, "Got everything ready?"
A couple pieces of luggage on the bed, all sealed up and neat. The kid stuttered, "Y-yes."
A twinge of pain made him grimace as he picked up the bags on his own. Any normal boy would ask for help from his father. Maybe he wanted to prove his own strength.
"Bradley."
Stopping at the entrance to the room, he dared not say a word.
"Remember to behave."
A nod to the wood and carpet of the floor signaled that he understood.
Another kid plopped next to his nervous wreck of a friend, grinning excitedly, "It's so cool you're coming with us!"
Said friend smiled in return, however soft it was, before looking out the car window, the world tinted gray and blue, halfway wishing…
"Is Mr. Uppercrust going to see you off, Bradley?"
To avoid being rude, the boy answered the older Goof, "He's busy. It's okay; we can go now." Buckling his seat belt now eager to leave. To be as far as possible from this estate.
The black pup was psyched to have a friend accompany him after being told that his closest friend, P.J., would be unavailable during the summer break. Pete deciding to drag the whole family to a barrage of otherwise enjoyable locations and events. It was the foul businessman's chance to get away from the "germ-ridden" Goofy and his delinquent son. Surely this would affect the other boy negatively.
Max prodded at the younger Uppercrust's shoulder and got a quick yelp in response.
"Whoa there!" having to jump back to the other side of the car. Goofy was humming a tune, oddly too focused to notice his son's outburst.
"You okay, Brad?"
"Uh—Uhm.." Bradley rubbed at his arm to come up with a good excuse, "I was sleeping. At least, about to."
The boys were more than halfway there, to the campsite recommended to them by a friend of Alphonse's. 'Alphonse' being the name of Bradley Uppercrust's father. Goofy was assured that it was a beautiful place. By the sight of looming mountains, babbling creeks, lush green forest, and fresh morning air surrounding them and the road, the man's word was true.
Bradley rolled up the window to not catch a cold; he wasn't used to being outside for that long. Outside home and school… He still wondered if he could take being in the city where his dad worked or even in the taken-for-granted comforts of suburbia.
The young canine turned his neck to see that Max had given up on getting his attention, gazing out his own window. He felt.. weird. He was the older one by two years, yet he felt like the baby for being so inexperienced in childhood fun and interaction. He lacked the fearlessness and spirit of most kids their age and, needless to say, it isolated him.
On that note, the way he communicated appreciation and concern was absent at worst and awkward at best.
".. Max?" His hand reaching out to the middle seat cushion between them, "Was there something you wanted to tell me?"
Knowing that Max didn't like having his dad involved, he kept his voice low.
The other gave a shrug, still facing away, "I forgot."
Bradley went into a slump before the other dog turned around and laughed, "I'm kidding!"
"Heh, oh." He perked himself up and was all ears.
"What's the first thing ya wanna do there? Swimming hiking bike riding?"
Giggling nervously out of embarrassment, "Whatever you want first, Max. But don't you think we should set up the tent before all that?"
"Oh yeah," the other looking bored for a split second, "that."
The older Goof looked behind him, "Do you boys want to make a pit stop? There's a store coming up ahead and I need to fill up the car with gas-il-leen."
"Yeah Dad, but could you keep your eyes on the road before you get us killed?"
Brad cringed at his friend's behavior towards his father. He wouldn't try "correcting" his own for anything.
"Okie Dokie." Back to driving as if nothing said was an insult.
"Bradley, we gotta stock up on s'more material." As if Goofy never interrupted.
"Uh, yeah."
What was a s'more?
Max Goof kept on tapping his shoe, ready to run around like a certain blue hedgehog,
"You almost done?"
Bradley poked his face out of the tent, "Yeah."
"Well come on then!" Pulling at his arms through the opening and to a stand. Both had a change of clothes for the upcoming hike. Tents took long enough to set up; Goofy so happened to be wrestling with his for quite some time until they detangled him out of that mess. Being a novice, Brad could only observe father and son working on the smaller contraption.
A rather light breeze ruffled their hair. Right now the temperature was at a low 70˚ F. It was ideal that it stay this way.
"Max; your tennis shoes are untied." The boy that said it got down on his knees to try and do his friend a favor. The other was quizzical, easing him aside, "Don't bother, Brad. I got it." Getting down himself, his friend scooted further on his bare knees, bruising up a little from the pressure.
The older observed the knots being formed and pulled for a few seconds. "There we go.. Brad?"
"Oh. Yeah.." Refusing Max's hand to push himself up.
"Now. Now can we go?"
"Alright, we can." Holding onto the straps of a heavy load. Sooner or later it would be digging into his shoulders. Max had so much vitality in comparison. He carried his own like it was nothing but a knapsack. Bradley gave a small sigh at making these observations, not wanting to get himself down on a special weekend. The sun was just above the forest, the sky now showing orange for a new day. Goofy was supposed to go with them, but then realized sooner or later that it would be lunch, so he stayed behind and got himself ready at the grill with spices and fresh veggies. He found out pretty quick that Bradley was not as picky as his kid was. Heck, little Bradley was fond of watching the Goof cook. Since it always turned out delicious he had to know how the magic in an otherwise chaotic kitchen was done.
Max started on the trail through a small clearing within their local flora, his friend idling behind. Said boy saw a foot tapping and he picked up the pace. The air was wonderful. Still a bit cold but not like how it was on their car ride over here. The clouds parted and after about a half hour of trekking or so the sky went baby blue.
The older boy was at peace as wind rustled the leaves and through his chestnut hair. So much at ease that his eyelids began to droop listening to the sound—
"Brad come on!"
"Coming." The illusion interrupted.
Minutes turned to an hour, two hours. Atmosphere thinning with each step on the elevating path. Every time Uppercrust wanted to just enjoy the moment, the Goof would zip by him as if it were a race, "Really?"
"Don't want to be caught by the animals right?" As if instilling worry into the guy would have him pick up his feet to keep in sync, "Heh heh; they gotta eat too."
Several minutes followed before stepping onto stone; cragged rocks were a small obstacle for the little Goof. The other struggled running out of air, "I—uh—need to," the last couple words a faint whisper. Sweat trickling down his forehead, Bradley took a seat on the flat top of a boulder, setting his pack down with gratitude. Max saw his sorry state and smiled at him in good will, following suit. The platform was wide enough for both. Max took a swig of water with zeal, "ah!"
Droplets rolling off his chin onto his shirt made Bradley's need for cleanliness spike, "Egh."
He looked away from the sight and took out his own canteen. The boy took his drink in sips and peered downward. Patches of slate, tan—having to squint his eyes—sea green, lavender.. "So glad that I'm not afraid of heights." Their feet suspended just a little over a cliff but luckily secured by the slab which served as a solid step.
Max followed his gaze and spied on a hawk going off into the distant hills. "Hm. You wanna find the biggest n' baddest roller coaster sometime then?"
"Nooo." Hoping the very idea wouldn't give him vertigo, "That, later. Maybe someday."
"Pfft." Capping his container methodically.
By the end of their hike, near the campsite, Bradley was falling short of breath, "Ah!" As if he would collapse. "Aw come on Brad it's not that bad!"
"I'm gonna die!" Being pricked by mosquitoes wasn't helping. The once benevolent sun glared down onto them and streams of sweat were a sure result of it. The weight of the pack threatened to topple him over, knees shaking. Max laughed at a face which exaggerated the ailment—mouth gaping open and eyes buggy, brows up at the forehead.
"How, come, you're still alive?"
"I'm used to camping, Bradley—duh." Allowing his friend's arm over his shoulder, "Hold on, almost done. And food's about ready." The agreeable scent reached their nostrils, but what Brad really needed was a drink. He had finished whatever was in the canteen about an hour ago.
Down the trail a ways off Goofy was waging war with a black bear smarter than average. He was up a white pine tree with a foil tray of just cooked hot dogs with bacon wrapping. Poking the animal's nose with a stick got it to bellow violently—"Yow!" Legs lifted Goofy to the top where he began swaying in the air, "Sorry but these are for the boys!" Another roar could be heard but it was feeble in comparison and sounded of one of absolute exhaustion, which got the bear's attention. Bradley fell face down into the dirt.
Still groaning in frustration at himself for being a total wuss, and too tired to realize that a giant furry thing was sniffing his hair. With little movement Max had snatched a medium-sized, raw silver fish from his dad's morning catch and dangled it in front of its nose. The bear grunted in question and lifted its eyes up to the shimmering treat, "rwr."
"Follow me." Keeping a distance of at least ten steps, "That's it mister." Eager, it clamped its jaw around the specimen right before it was dropped and hobbled off with it. For good measure Max followed the beast carefully with two others and positioned them on a fallen log that was in its path, "Bon appétit."
Goofy had clambered down, shaky in setting the tray on the fold-out table. He noticed a turtle—No; Brad was still stuck there. "This sucks." The overall stringiness of his frame and lack of developed muscle made using his arms to lift himself off the ground futile, "Help." The older Goof got next to him and flipped the oversized thing over so that Uppercrust could slip out. "Oww..! Th-Thanks, Mr. Goof. I mean, Goofy."
"No problemo, Charlie." Brad giggled but coughed halfway. Max came back with a bunch of edible berries cradled in the fold of his shirt, "Figured to take some before he did." Confused, Bradley had to ask, "who?" Getting a massive gulp of water from their reserve. "A bear."
Brad spat out, "B-Bear? There are bears here?!" The adult peered over his food counter realizing fish had been taken, "Well I'll be darned. Guess we gotta go fishin' again."
"Later, Dad—Bradley! Seriously get out of that tent!"
Spying on a bag of marshmallows, a thin pale hand reached inside only to have it slapped, "Hey!"
"Those are for the s'mores!"
"But it was already open!" Rubbing hand lightly almost pouting. "How else are we gonna get them out? Magic?"
Bradley folded his arms, "Warn me next time." The camping novice was having all kinds of bad luck from falling into the freezing lake at getting perhaps their biggest catch of the day that got away to being stalked by bees and other such insects after being coated with free-falling syrup. There was a close encounter with that same bear that developed a fondness for Maxie's generosity. Goofy would have something to say about it but stopped dead in his tracks at a look the creature gave him, 'I'm keeping my eye on you.' Standing up high and giving the gesture with its paw. At that point Brad about fainted.
The day was finally winding down and Bradley was glad to have had a chance to bathe alone to get the stink off. Truth to tell after that oddball dinner of steak spaghetti, chickpea salad and half of a peanut butter sandwich, he was still hungry. Rather than piss Max off he picked up a handful of the washed berries in anticipation of the s'mores he kept on blabbing about, popping said berries in one by one. Tangy sweet juice could easily stain his shirt but Brad figured out that staying neat and tidy outdoors was a lost cause.
"Soon, Bradley." Giving a smile that seemed as if Max was hiding something of an esoteric nature. The other boy rolled his eyes, "Okaaaayy."
The buddy was literally treating the preparation like a ritual. An offering of graham crackers to the fire gods in a crumpled section of foil. The small slabs of chocolate and marshmallows in their own makeshift bowl. Spindling branches at the ready. Blue orbs doused with warm light saw an acoustic guitar leaning on the stump where Goofy was sitting, "Are you just going to play it, or will you sing too?"
"That's up to you." Grinning toothily. Bradley hummed already finding nighttime to be much more manageable, "Tomorrow night; I'm sure you sound great but I want to save it for later." Overall the young teen preferred instrumental anyway.
"Okay, strumming only."
The black pup clapped his gloved hands together, "We are ready!"
To add to the atmosphere Bradley started a mock chant; baby blue squinted over and Goofy glanced over, "Huh?"
".. Yama Oyama..? What I'm helping." A little smirk.
"Weirdo." Sticking on a marshmallow to one of the fanned out ends of the stick to roast over the fire, "Put the rest on, brother." Uppercrust did just that and was given the branch to hold over the heat, "but not too close or you'll char the wood!" Max kept Brad's arm and flimsy wrist steady. It took both hands and the genius method of standing up on a chair to not have the fire pit consume the puffy things, caramelizing slowly until they got close to brown then approaching black.
"They're done, Bradley!" The older boy got down gingerly and saw another pair of hands with crackers and chocolate clasp onto the sticky goodness before pulling it out, "This," holding it out to the initiate, "Is a s'more!" Ah. Looked like a crunchy sweet sandwich. Max gave it to him and took the branch to get the rest out, "Enjoy!" By then Goofy had finally settled on a tune after much deep pondering with hand to chin and glancing upward. A chord and a bit of fine tuning with dexterity showcased the potential of his talents; before they knew it he had started and the soothing melody satisfied Bradley the most. Violins of a faint memory of his mother, father and a theatre were replaced by something rustic, bold and optimistic.
Teeth took hold of the s'more, napkin ready to catch the crumbs, and a bit of an ooey gooey piece, "Mm!" Okay maybe too sweet and maybe really bad for him but it was a "commoner's" quirk like this that made him feel more connected with the so-called lower crowd. "Thank you, Max." The black pup downing his second, "No prob! Take another one." Bradley did but gazed off a little into the flames before looking upward. The tops of the trees managed to escape illumination and the tufts stood black to blue. Head back down to bob a little in appreciating the music until before Goofy took a well-deserved break for dessert.
"You play great." At this point beaming.
"Thank ye kindly." Lowering the brim of his fishing hat studded with a nerd's lures of various colors; a curiosity to that of the kind man that wore it.
In place of acoustic were the little hoots and tiny screech that resembled that of bats; they couldn't be too sure as not a single animal was in sight. Thinking a ways ahead, Bradley expected to hear the howl of a great wolf—a pack of wolves, later late evening. Instead of letting fear show he munched on the second without breathing until it was finished. A bit of contemplative silence for a while.
"Hey—want me to tell a scary story?"
"Sure, M—
"No!" Covering his ears. He knew that the stories that Max told without censorship such as his dad could be borderline disturbing. Perhaps way too many video games and movies.
Another disadvantage of camping over staying at home. Sleeping on the uneven and hard ground was terrible! The makeshift cushion seemed to help some. The younger kid was confused as to why Bradley wouldn't change along with him—It was a boy thing to do, right? He didn't smell that bad or anything. In respecting his request they got ready at separate times.
As far as the imagination could reach, at least Brad was impartial to the tales of zombies, vampires, and werewolves. But talk about murderers and other real life evils, now that put him on edge. Maxie was kind enough not to go too much into detail this time around. Still, it was hard to settle down into sleep, both thinking too much of disparate things and the little Goof thought it was the best time to get the flashlight and shine it right in the face of the unsuspecting boy—
"Ah! What the hell's your problem?!"
Max flinched thinking his comrade would strike him for interrupting much needed rest. "Whoa there. Language."
".. Sorry." The other mumbled before flopping back down, "ow. Forgot that this wasn't my bed." Sighing. Goof flicked off the light and shifted his weight away, "Wanted to have fun that's all. Still kinda early in my book so.." Brad growled before pulling the flap over his head being a sourpuss.
"You're usually not like this when you've slept over."
"I said, I'm sorry." Reaching an arm out fumbling in the dark, fingers reaching his friend's hand, or rather his thumb, "I got freaked a little that's why."
…..
In slumber, breathing was off and faint and rushed dialogue was heard. Brad talked in sleep sometimes but the words were usually too jumbled—or they seemed to be—to get the meaning.
"I…. no… wait." Polyester shuddering along with him, repeating the last word. Legs under the cover shifted over and over as if running, "D—" Eyes opened. Before getting up he took note of the unfamiliar setting. Eyes dry and stinging, Bradley sniffed and stood up; Max buried himself in time to not be caught spying on him. To make the illusion complete he faked a snore which nearly alleviated the mood. Not even five minutes afterward the other was outside the tent. Assuming bathroom break, Max's eyelids began to droop.
By now Uppercrust was forgetting how frightening the woods were supposed to be. Shoes on his feet, he wandered a long way underneath a blanket of many stars. Given where he lived he could get out of the house any night once the estate's lights were off to take in the beauty of space, but the thought usually never crossed his mind. So glad his pajamas proved enough insulation for the mild cold. Mind trying to be still in favor for this love of the moon, currently at its crescent.
If he decided to stop walking his thoughts would catch up to him. Instead of sitting down at a river's bank to ruminate, he went back and crawled back inside the tent and into his down feather sleeping bag. "Good night." To no one before exhaling deeply and weighing himself down both physically and in consciousness.