CHAPTER TWO
"NEW YEAR'S DAY"

It was 2:00 and time for sixth period science at Middleton High School. The door opened; there was a collective groan from the 25 seniors seated in five parallel rows as Mr. Barkin walked in, rolling an ancient projector into the room. "Listen up, people. Ms. Turnstile dropped her engagement ring in the piranha tank and ignored the warning label to not thrash about when she started looking for it. That's all you need to know. So today, you'll watch one of the classic scientific audio-visual extravaganzas: 'The Life Cycle of the Venus' Flytrap.' You have a question, Stoppable?"

"Mr. Barkin, what is that thing?" Ron asked.

"This is a vintage 1959 film strip projector. They just don't make 'em like these babies anymore, built like a Sherman tank. What now, Stoppable?"

"Uh, we're supposed to study astronomy."

"What's your point? Now unless there are any more questions—hands on the top of the desk, Stoppable."

A Ben Steinish narrator began the exposition of the Venus' Flytrap: "There are approximately 600 different species of carnivorous plants." Beep. Barkin hand-turned the filmstrip to the next image.

"KP," Ron whispered, "are you still awake?"

"Shush, I'm doing my calculus homework."

"The Dionaea Muscipula, more popularly known as the Venus' Flytrap, is indigenous to the swampy bogs along the coasts of North and South Carolina." Beep.

Ron scribbled a note, Hey GF, got any plans this Friday night?, scrunched it into a wadded ball, and thumb-flicked it over his shoulder.

"The leaves of the Venus' Flytrap are surrounded by small, stiff protrusions that look like fangs." Beep.

A few moments later, he felt a tug on the back of his hockey jersey and a wad of paper stuffed down his back. He whispered out the side of his mouth, "feeling frisky, are we?" He nonchalantly reached down the back of his jersey and heard a snort.

"Stoppable, you got a problem?" snarled Barkin from the front of the room.

"Uh, no, Mr. Barkin. Just an itch." Ron quietly unfolded the note and read, How about a little tongue wrestling during the slow parts of the Ninja Princess Journals opening at the Mall? Over. That wasn't quite what he had in mind, but he liked how his girlfriend was thinking. He turned the paper over. Of course, Kim will dismember you first, leaving me with no date. XXX & OOO, Monique. PS: with your aim, it's a good thing you're not the quarterback anymore. Ron's cheeks blended with his dark red hockey shirt.

"These protrusions are very sensitive, and when disturbed by an unwary insect, they signal the leaves to snap together, trapping the unfortunate victim." Beep.

He turned around and looked at Kim and Monique in the two desks directly behind him, studiously scribbling in their notebooks. Monique slowly and seductively licked her lips, while Kim, with a perfect poker face, stared at the filmstrip with only the slightest trace of a smirk. A minute later, he felt another wadded note down his back: Can I come along, too? Want to see NPJ. Will save dismemberment for later—unless you have alternative plans, minus Monique. Love, KP.

"Digestive juices from the plant dissolve the soft, inner parts of the insect, leaving the exoskeleton behind." Beep. Several students uttered "ewww" and "gross."

"Sick and wrong," Ron thought, and not just about the poor fly, for which he suddenly felt sympathy. He was saved by the familiar deet deet DE deet emitted from Kim's wrist communicator. The dazed heads of several students suddenly jerked out of their near stupor. Barkin rolled his eyes and snapped, "Possible, haven't I told you to put that thing on vibrate during school hours? Take it outside. You, too, Stoppable."

"Sorry, Mr. Barkin." They jogged down the hallway back to Kim's locker. The smiling chubby face of Wade Load sipping a grape soda greeted them. "Go Wade."

"Hey Kim, hey Ron. Hope I didn't interrupt something important."

"Only a potential homicide," said Ron.

"Ron's just afraid of a little digestive juice," said Kim. She scanned the hall for any sign of teachers or hall monitors, and surprised her BFBF with a quick kiss. Wade averted his eyes—he still wasn't used to witnessing snog attacks, even between his two close friends. "What's the sitch?" Kim asked.

"It's your old friend, Dr. Cyrus Bortel. You received an odd, anonymous hit on your website. Seems Bortel has been working on something called a Fear Incapacitator. I'm not sure what it does yet, but apparently Dementor wants it. You've been requested to remove it from Bortel's lab and take it to Buster's Odds & Ends Gift Shop for safe keeping." Buster's was located at the far end of a strip mall lined by shops selling things like kitchen cutlery, luggage, and ski paraphernalia. Buster's Odds n' Ends specialized in unusual items such as frozen haggis treats, rattlesnake bobble-heads, spare Yugo carburetor parts, etc.

"My weirder alert is going off, like déjà vu weird. Can you find Drakken's whereabouts, Wade? He made fools out of us before in a sitch like this," said Kim. "Where's Bortel now, and why can't he handle this?"

"Good questions, Kim. Bortel is supposedly at a time distorter convention. If Dementor wants this Fear Incapacitator, it must be something dangerous. As you know, Bortel's something of a mercenary mad scientist. But if you don't think the mission is critical, you can go back to class while I track down Drakken," said Wade.

Kim and Ron looked at each other—anything's worth a break from Barkin's Venus' Flytrap filmstrip. "We'll take the mission," they said together. "Transport?" Kim asked.

"I've got a bush pilot landing on the track field in five minutes. Good luck."

"Thanks for dropping us off, Mr. Cidermeister," yelled Kim.

"My pleasure, Ms. Possible. It's the least I can do after you saved our family farm."

"Herding a flock of angora goats into hot air balloons moments before a volcanic mudslide, no big. Ready to jump, Ron?"

"Parachute, check. Naked mole rat in right pocket, check. Vocal chords warmed up for loud scream, check. Yep, I'm ready."

"Wade, we're in. What's this Fear Incapacitator thing look like?" asked Kim.

"According to the website hit, the internal hardware is housed in something that looks like an old filmstrip projector, whatever that is. I had to ask my mom."

"We're on top of that one," said Ron. "Though I don't know why anyone needs to modify those things. They're already pretty good at inflicting permanent brain damage. Rufus, can you climb up and check those top shelves for us?" "Up, up and away," chattered Rufus.

They started inspecting the lower shelves and tables full of electronic gadgets. As they searched, Kim asked, "So are we still on for our triple date to see 'Ninja Princess Journals'?"

"Ha, good one, KP. Actually, Mom and Dad wanted me to invite you to our Rosh Hashanah service and to dinner afterwards." Ron had a you-don't-have-to-but-it'd-mean-a-lot-to-me look on his face.

"Oh," said Kim, "I'd love to." Ron smiled. Get-togethers with the Stoppables had become, somehow, more important lately. Of course, she had occasionally visited Temple Shalom with Ron since they were young kids. Now, though, it felt as if they were drawing her in, as if his parents believed their relationship had become permanent and they wanted to introduce her to what being part of Ron's family meant.

"Come over around 6:00. We'll ride with the 'rents."

"Found it!" they heard Rufus squeak excitedly from the topmost shelf. "Way to go, little buddy," said Ron.

"Now it's my turn," said Kim. She executed a series of cheerleader jumps and flips up to the metallic shelf with Rufus. There it was, with a carefully typed label attached, "Fear Incapacitator version 1.1." She pulled out several feet of wire extension from her utility belt and lowered the machine and Rufus down to Ron. She reversed her leaps down to the floor and contacted Wade. "Got it. Let's get out of here."

Minutes after Team Possible had left, Cyrus Bortel emerged from the shadowy recesses of his lab. He dialed a number on his cell phone. "It's done," he said. "You have the audio and visual tape of them breaking into your lab and removing the Fear Incapacitator?" asked the voice, masked by an obvious and pointless voice distorter, Bortel observed. "Yes, I am transmitting the video now." "Thank you, Dr. Bortel. Your cooperation is greatly appreciated." He thought without saying, "you're not welcome." True to his Swiss origins, he prided himself on remaining neutral among the community of eccentric scientists. But this situation was very distasteful. He was no hero, but he did have a sentimental streak in him, and his coerced participation in harming this nice young couple displeased him considerably.

Kim arrived wearing her dark blue dress. Ron met her at the door and had just enough time for a quick kiss before a mini ninja hurricane jumped in her arms. "Kimmy, Kimmy! You pwetty!"

"And so are you! What a pretty pink dress." She hooked her arm into Ron's and walked into the living room to meet Ron's parents.

"Kim, aren't you and Ronald the elegant couple," said Mrs. Stoppable as she gave Kim a hug. Mr. Stoppable came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dishrag: "Ah, our guest of honor is here! Shall we go?" They piled into the Stoppable's Buick, Ron and Kim in the backseat and Hannah buckled in her car seat between them.

Kim thought about her own experiences in church. Her family was admittedly not as religiously devout as the Stoppable family. Partly that was a result from her experiences as a child. Her parents had visited a particular church in Middleton and put Kim in the pre-Kindergarten class. Kim drove the poor ladies teaching the five-year olds crazy with her questions about cavemen and dinosaurs during the lesson about Adam and Eve. When she started drawing an anatomically correct picture of Adam and Eve (she had seen her mother's medical books), her teachers escorted her to her mother and requested that Kim not return to the children's class. Dr. Anne Possible was livid.

They left and started attending, infrequently, the formal service of a local Methodist church, led by the Reverends Brent and his wife, Norma. Ron would sometimes go with her and ask questions she felt she should know how to answer, but couldn't.

The only mishap with Ron happened one Sunday after they had watched some old John Wayne westerns. On this particular Sunday, there was a communion service, and Rufus became very excited at the sight and smell of communion crackers. When he saw the small cups of grape juice, he squeaked loudly, "Drinks on the house, boys!" Pandemonium broke out. One of the ladies in the pew behind Ron saw Rufus and shrieked, "Rats!" Another lady fainted. Rufus scampered under the pews, looking for his rat cousins, spreading the panic further. Kim choked as she swallowed; grape juice started running out her nose. Jim and Tim yelled, "Gross, Kim's snorting juice." Pastor Norma tried to maintain some decorum and dignity while her husband started a contagious laugh that quickly spread over pews. After the congregation calmed down, Pastor Brent delivered an impromptu communion sermon titled, "Drinks On the House." Sunday dinner at the Possibles was tense for several minutes. Anne didn't say anything to Ron, just looked at him sternly. Rufus couldn't understand why everyone was upset at him, but he felt very apologetic, holding his little paws together. He said "Mybad," which launched an avalanche of giggles around the table. Rufus was convinced more than ever that with the exception of Ron, humans were very strange creatures. But he knew all had been forgiven when Mrs. Possible gave him an extra helping of mashed potatoes and gravy.

As they drove to Temple Shalom, Mr. Stoppable taught Kim how to say the traditional Rosh Hashanah greeting, "L'Shanah Tovah Tikatevu (May you be inscribed for a good year)," and the proper response"Garn Lekha (Same to you)."

Kim held Ron's hand during the service while Rabbi Katz explained some of the symbols, such as the blowing of the ram's horn, the Shofar ("that's G-d's way of waking us up"). He said that Rosh Hashanah means the beginning of the Jewish New Year, that it was a celebration of creation and an opportunity for everyone to start anew. She started thinking of important decisions she would be facing in the coming months, unconsciously squeezing Ron's hand at times. She also understood now why Ron's parents asked her to participate; it was an important "first" for their son and his best friend-girlfriend.

After the service, they returned to the Stoppable's home, where Kim was treated to the Stoppable's traditional Rosh Hashanah meal of a honey wheat Challah loaf, apple kugel, carrots au gratin, grilled salmon, and carrot cake with ice cream for dessert. "That was wonderful. Thank you both so much for inviting me over," said Kim.

"It was our pleasure, dear," said Mrs. Stoppable. Hannah's head was wobbling to the side of her high chair, eyes half closed, and cheek encrusted with a glaze of cake and melted ice cream. Rufus was already snoozing on top of Hannah's shoulder, sporadically picking and munching clumps of crumbs out of her hair between snores. "We need to give Hannah a bath and put her to bed. I'm sure you and Ronald would like some time alone."

Kim and Ron sat down on the living room couch. "So, what did you think, KP?" Ron asked.

"Wait. You're forgetting something that your little sister interrupted, and I want it passionate and gentlemanly," Kim said. Ron drew her into a long embrace and a made-to-order kiss. He pulled away when he felt a wet eyelash brush his cheek. "Kim, what's wrong?"

"You know, if I can have one of those anytime I wanted, I might just keep you around." She smiled, wiping a tear from her face. "Nothing's wrong. It was a beautiful evening—I just wasn't expecting it. I'm a little sad and happy, all mixed together." She settled back into Ron's arms. "Ron, what would we do if we get married and have children someday? Part of me says to be like my parents—stand back and let our kids make up their own minds about religious matters when they're older. But I think you feel it's important for you to pass along your family's faith and traditions. So that's why I feel all mixed up, happy and sad. What do you think?"

Ron said nothing for a few moments. He was still processing words like married and our kids—she's obviously been thinking a lot about this. "Hmm. I think that when you drink orange juice with milk, it tastes totally gross, but when you figure out how to mix them the right way, you get one bondiggity smoothie."

"OK, even though I find you oddly romantic when you say such weird things, could you explain what that means, Sensei Boy?" said Kim.

"It means that you and I are very different. When people look at us, we don't make any sense to them, like orange juice and milk. But somehow we make things work; we always have. I think we can be true to ourselves and still figure out how to blend together and make something unique and wonderful. But you already know that, right? What's really bothering you, KP?"

"Rabbi Katz said that Rosh Hashanah is a beginning, a time when we can choose a course for ourselves that's good or bad. I feel like we have such important decisions facing us in the next several months that will affect the rest of our lives. And this sitch with Dr. Bortel, something about it feels very strange. I feel pulled in different directions by things I don't understand. Nothing's nice and simple anymore, Ron, and I don't know what to do, or what's going to happen to us."

"Yeah, I know what you mean, Kim. Especially when you start using words like our kids."

"Is that something you want, Ron?"

"I don't know, Kim. But I agree—we need to start things right, especially if marriage and children are down the road. Just remember this." Ron took her hand and placed it over his heart. Kim stared into Ron's brown eyes like they were telescopes into her future. "No matter what happens out there, you will always be in here."

"I love you, too, Ron Stoppable."