Gracie's Journal 7/21/29

What is the thing I want most on the world?

My heel was bugging me and since I leave for camp tomorrow I needed to straighten up, put my big girl panties on and deal with it.

Found myself at the batting cages whacking the tar out of poor innocent softballs.

And Uncle Nate showed up.

"Your skipping out on me," he called, as I shoved another token in the machine. It rattled and clicked and launched a ball me way.

"More important things I got to do," I called back, swinging my bat around.

"More important than me? I'm hurt," Uncle Nate fake-whined.

"What do you want?" I asked, taking my anger out on the ball that made contact with the bat.

"You don't want to talk about things. But you need to,"

"Excuse me, have you ever met my mother?" I shouted back. He glared.

When I went to put another token in the machine, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of the cage. I faught it, but not enough. I mean, to do otherwise would just make me look like a brat.

His question is coming. Everytime he comes he leaves everyone with a question. One that he doesn't stick around to help you answer, not one that anyone can help you with either. No, when he leaves, you spend the next 4 months trying to answer his damn question.

I don't want a question.

"There's the exact reason we have to have this talk, your parents aren't great examples of positive mental health."

"Nate. Stop. They aren't abusive towards me, they aren't neglecting me, they aren't starving me, you don't need to call CPS on me."

"That's not what I meant," he said.

Eye roll.

"Let's cut the attitude Grace Marie."

In a moment of weakness and annoyance... "Fine. I'm in love with my best friend, and I'm pretty sure he's in love with me
too. My parents are the happiest that I've ever seen them, and sure they still bicker but if they didn't I think the world would crash and burn. I'm pretty sure Nell and Eric are becoming a thing or are a thing or have a thing or whatever. We got a new dog and I mean she's cool. But I'm just... I'm overwhelmed and I'm just not happy."

"There we go," Nate said, smiling.

And the question.
"What is the thing that you want most in the world?"

"You know, for the longest time it was for Mom and Dad to get married. And then for a while it was Clayton. And now, I have no idea."

"You weren't supposed to answer that, you're supposed to answer it to yourself later on," Uncle Nate said and laughed, "I thought you knew how this worked?"

Nate leaned over and pressed a kiss into my temple. "Love you Gracie. I must report my findings to Hetty and I'm back to saving the world, one brain at a time."

He started to walk away.

But he turned and called back to me.

"Gracie?"

"Yeah?"

"When you find it, chase after it. Don't let it out of your sight."

"Okay Uncle Nate." I said. He smiled, he waved, and he was gone.

Back at home, my mind just ran over and over the question.

I couldn't keep it in. So I asked Dad.

"Dad, what's the thing I want most in the world?"

"You Blye women and the idea of wanting something most in the world!" he called out with a hearty laugh.

I gave him this glare.

There is always an elaborate back story. Knifes and racoons and boxes and apparently the frozen lake.

This lake has been referenced many a time before, but I've never been informed of its meaning until now.

So I could write out my conversation with Dad because its quite interesting really. But I think if I were to ask Mom she'd give a different run down, so I'm going to paraphrase what's least likely to be falsified.

So Mom and Dad hooked up.

Then fill in the story about not taking the shot. And it ended in the shooting range (that fancy room that Momma taught me to fire a SIG and a Bareta in) with Mom "standing on her frozen lake".

The frozen lake represents the thing you want most in the world. The thing that you'll do anything to get. You want it so bad. So you think you can go out and get it before the ice cracks, but you can't avoid it because the ice is already cracking around you.

So I guess I'm looking for what I'm willing to cross my frozen lake for. For Mom, it was Dad. For me, that's the question.

I can't decide if the question is more or less intimidating than the lake.

Dad scared me a little though.

There's something else they're holding on. He stated to say "And then Afghanistan and the tort..."

And then he bailed on that sentence.

I'm being lied to I'm being lied to I am being lied to.

Come on, there can't be that many words that start with tort. We got torch, which only kind of works, and then there is tortoise, which is completely illogical in that sentence.

Somebody got tortured and no one has told me about it.

Today sucks.

-Gracie