Another long wait, which I must apologize for. I've been getting really, REALLY into Chinese dramas and have been spending most of my free time watching them instead of writing.
Do bear in mind that this story is still taking place in that faraway time when Covid-19 had yet to be seen as a major concern. Also, a little shorter than I hoped, but the next one will be longer.
Spuds
Idaho had to hold the cellphone several inches from his ear to avoid being deafened by Washington's furious ranting.
Normally, he wouldn't talk on the phone while on the road, but Washington had managed to hack his cellphone in order to scream at him about how 'hunting Bigfoot is inhumane' and 'completely reprehensible' and 'it needs to stop, you potato-sucking chunkhead.' Idaho didn't know what Washington was on (well, actually, he did – he was convinced Washington was bathing in marijuana from the way it clung to his mismatched clothes); after all, Bigfoot was clearly a danger to the public and needed to be caught, especially considering the government was doing everything it could to keep the truth of Bigfoot from the public. Besides, it wasn't like Idaho was the only one hunting the big, hairy cryptid; Maine was the one who first warned them all about the dangers of Bigfoot. Heck, Maine had made it something of a contest among the states to see who could bag Bigfoot first.
A contest Idaho was determined to win. Then, maybe, people might remember him for something other than potatoes. Even if they were pretty darn good potatoes.
"Look, Wash, can we talk later?" he said. "I'm picking up Dad and Uncle Matt from some sort of lunch meeting with their weird friends."
"I don't fucking care about that," Washington snapped. "I'm warning you, Huck. Stay away from Bigfoot."
"Whoops, sorry, I'm going through a tunnel. Can't talk any-" He made a static sound before ending the call.
Maybe his dad and uncle would help him out. America was always up for poking around in the woods in search of cryptids and Canada was an even better tracker and outdoorsman than him. They might even wrap the whole thing up in time for him to make it to that cultural festival the Basque community was hosting in Boise – he just had to remember to pace himself when it came to the food so he didn't eat all the pintxos.
He pulled to a stop outside the restaurant and waved at the group of nations standing outside. The only ones who noticed him were America and Canada. That was fine, most people didn't look twice at Idaho, he was used to it.
"Hey, Dad," he called out. "Uncle Matt. Your ride's here."
"Hey, kiddo," said America. "Sorry, dudes, gotta dip."
"Where did those horses come from?" said England, gesturing towards the Appaloosas that Idaho had steered over.
"Idaho brought them."
"Who-da-what?" said Prussia.
Canada gave Idaho a sympathetic look.
"My son Idaho," the United States said firmly. "My forty-third state. Elias Huckleberry Jones."
The nations stared another minute or so before they realized there was a lanky teen in rubber waders, a camo t-shirt, and an "I Heart Potatoes" baseball cap riding the lead Appaloosa in front of them. It was normal for him to be hard to notice. People tended to get confused when they even thought about him. He looked a bit like his brother Wisconsin and his sister Iowa, only his hair was a plain brown rather than sunny blonde – his eyes were brown, too, maybe a touch lighter in color than the average shade, but still.
"It is nice to meet you all," he said. "Dad and Uncle Matt have told me a lot about you."
They continued to just look at him as if trying to understand what they were seeing and hearing. His speech and tone were unremarkable; so even and mild with no particular accent to speak of.
"Yes, well," England replied, still not truly seeing him. "Alfred, we'll be seeing you again, soon."
"Sure, dude," said Dad. "I have a lot more to tell you guys. Safe travels."
America and Canada swung themselves up onto the horses Idaho had brought for them and the three of them set off. They didn't talk for a long while. It was all right, though. Idaho knew things must still be a little awkward. Everyone in the family knew America was finally telling his friends his life story. Talking about the past was tough in the Jones household. Idaho, himself, had little history of particular note in the grand scheme of things (the most notable things he could recall off the top of his head being those miners' strikes and the building of the first ski resort and ski lift – and the unpleasant results of living so close to Nevada and her science experiments). Still, he knew it couldn't be easy for his father to share such personal things.
"Uh, Huck," said America. "Why is your shirt moving?"
"Huh? Oh." Idaho reached down the front of his waders and under his shirt to grab something fluffy. "Come on, Barzilla, get out of there." He yanked firmly and pulled out a large raccoon. "I told you not to crawl around under my shirt."
The raccoon chirruped at him.
"Now stop that," said Idaho. "If you do that again, you're not getting any beer tonight."
Idaho didn't drink, personally, but that raccoon was enough of a booze-hound that Idaho's alcohol expenses could just about match those of any of his siblings.
"I mean it, Barzilla," he continued. "Don't think that puppy-eyes act will work on me."
"I seem to recall someone else giving me puppy-eyes as a kid when he wanted potatoes with every meal," said America.
"I am sure I don't know what you mean, Dad."
"Manitoba does the same thing whenever she wants to make me buy her slurpies," said Canada.
Idaho tried to picture his stiff, sour-faced cousin attempting to make puppy-eyes and the mental strain started to give him a headache. Shaking himself out of that disturbing thought train, he turned the subject to camping and cryptid-hunting. His father, as expected, was immediately pumped and eager to start planning. Canada was more subdued in his response, but he was still happy to spend time in the great outdoors.
"Huh, that actually gives me an idea," said America.
"Al, I think I know what's going on in your head, eh," said Canada. "And you can just stop it, right now."
"Everyone's bosses are always looking for ways to help us all bond and make nice with each other."
"Alfred, no. Just…just no."
"And corporate retreats do wonders for building team cooperation."
"Uncle Matt," Idaho said, looking uncertainly at Canada. "Has Dad gotten into your pot supply, again?"
America rattled off his new and terrible idea all the way to Idaho's place. He chattered as they got the camping supplies. He brainstormed as they rode out and set up camp. He scribbled in his "America's Big Book of Brilliant Ideas" as Idaho and Canada scouted for Bigfoot through their night vision goggles. And he was still talking about it after they got bored looking for Bigfoot on the third day and just started digging for star garnets. By the time America and Canada saw Idaho back to his home, America had the entire thing planned out.
Idaho and Canada just gave him tired smiles and nodded as they knew America had gotten set on his latest scheme and no amount of reasoning would dissuade him from his course.
With that said and done, Elias Huckleberry Jones, the state of Idaho, shut the door of the trailer he'd called home for over two decades after bidding his farewells to his father and uncle. He shoved a couple of old papers and a pizza box off the fold-out bed and plopped himself down to watch some TV. Most of the states liked to live large, from penthouses to plantations, but there were a few states who deliberately chose more rugged lifestyles. Idaho had his trailer, Tennessee had some shack with a tin roof, Colorado spent so much time outdoors she had likely forgotten what a house even was, and Idaho was pretty sure Maine was living either in a fishing boat or an abandoned lighthouse. America had offered many times to build or buy more upscale houses for them, but they all turned him down. Personally, Idaho wouldn't trade his little trailer in the middle of nowhere for the swankiest mansion in Boise.
Plus, it had taken ages to build that fully-functioning, top-secret doomsday bunker underneath his current residence and he had no intention of going through the hassle of decommissioning it and trying to rebuild somewhere else.
At the next state meeting, Idaho felt unusually noticed by his siblings.
Normally, the only one who really ever paid him much mind was Montana. And Utah, as well, he supposed, though those conversations mostly ended up boiling down to religious discussions about why Idaho wouldn't admit to being LDS. Just because the Latter-Day Saints made up a large part of his religious demographics didn't mean he was required to identify himself as one. Heck, he sometimes went to Lutheran or Baptist services on Sundays, so it wasn't as though he'd committed to anything.
But this wasn't one of those uncomfortable moments. No, this moment was uncomfortable in an entirely different way.
"Elias," Pennsylvania said to him evenly, unnerving in how much she could still intimidate even in her 'Penny' persona. "Kindly explain to us why Father is hosting an all-nations corporate camping retreat? And perhaps you can explain how he convinced every nation's boss to go along with this stupidity n'at?"
"It wasn't my fault, Penny," Idaho said nervously. "I just asked Dad and Uncle Matt to go on a search for Bigfoot with me and-"
"You douchebag!" screamed Washington. "I've told you a thousand times to leave Bigfoot alone."
"Shut your pie-hole, David," said South Carolina. "Elias was talkin'. And we are gonna let him continue to talk. But he ain't gonna talk too much or do that thing he does where he ties everythin' back to how much he loves Aaron Paul."
"What's wrong with Aaron Paul?" Idaho said defensively.
"Have you seen the size of that fella's forehead?"
Before Idaho could respond to that, he was cut off by Arkansas firing several rounds into the ceiling.
"Enough!" Arkansas shouted. "Just let Huck answer the dang-flabbit question."
"All right, fine," said Idaho. "Look, it's not like I went and suggested the idea to Dad. Uncle Matt and I tried to talk him out of it, but you know what Dad gets like when he thinks he's on to something."
"He did once try to fix the hole in the ozone by shooting a missile filled with sunblock into the sky," said Virginia.
"Not to mention the Star Wars program," Maryland added. "You guys remember that, right? When he tried to build that nationwide anti-nuke shield."
"I thought that was a darn good idea," said Arkansas. "And it was Reagan who suggested it. Dad just tried to make it happen."
"Noah, you do know Reagan's been dead for years," said Louisiana. "Ain't no reason for you to still be kissin' his ass."
"Everyone, shut up!" New York yelled. "We keep gettin' off-track. The fact is that Dad is still gonna be draggin' those nation pals of his out into the wilderness for team bondin' and shit. Now, what are we gonna do about it?"
Everyone exchanged looks.
"You do realize this could lead to another world war, right?"
"I wouldn't go as far as to say that, Mark," said Idaho.
"Fuck! Who the hell are you?! How'd you get in here?!"
"…I'm Elias. Your brother."
"You're gonna have to be more specific, pal. I got, like, what is it, twelve brothers by now?"
Several of the states gave him disgusted looks while the rest were either struck dumb by his response or laughing into their hands.
"Hey, it's hard to keep track of you morons at this point," New York replied heatedly. "And half the time I can't be sure if you're brothers or sisters 'cause you never tell me what fuckin' pronouns I should use for you."
Most of the states shared private looks that screamed to each other that it was very much a willful deception on their part. After all, if he was going to go around fining people for not addressing someone by the right pronoun, they were going to get their money's worth of amusement watching him struggle through it, as well.
"Look, this is getting us all nowhere," said Connecticut. "We need to, all of us, calm down and think this over."
"I don't see the problem, Thomas," said Iowa. "We literally just hosted a massive car-racing fundraiser that pretty much all the nations attended and that didn't cause any real trouble."
"That's a completely different situation, Sally," said Virginia. "The nations actually chose to attend that. Besides, who wouldn't want to spend several hours watching cars drive really fast?"
"Hey, speaking of that race," said Maryland. "What happened to all the money we raised?"
"That's not important right now," New York said, waving dismissively at her.
"The problem is," Connecticut interjected waspishly, "this is a required teamwork-building corporate retreat in which every nation will be prancing around in the woods with other nations they hate."
"I've got to grant this one to Thomas," said Massachusetts. "Most of us can't stand each othah on the best of days. Right, Cow Hampshire?"
New Hampshire responded by flipping her middle finger at him.
"See?" said Massachusetts. "Imagine that, but with ovah three times the people, in the woods, being made to pretend they can get along."
"Hey, where'd Daddy say he's hostin' dis?" said Mississippi. "Did he say which state it's gonna be at?"
Everyone looked at each other, trying to figure out which one of them would be playing host to the nations. For a while, each state just shrugged as they looked down their ranks. Finally, all gazes ended up landing on one serenely smiling teen girl who just sat there eating meat skewers and reading a book that appeared to be on homemade bomb designs. On realizing she was being stared at by her siblings, she just tilted her head.
"Yes…it's me," said Montana. "I'm hosting."
"…We're screwed," said Idaho.
Missouri slung a comforting arm around his little brother's shoulder.
"I don't know if this help, Elias," said Missouri. "But I've learned that life is just one pointless, tirin' struggle after another 'til you just wish Utah was dead."
"Love you, too, Missouri," said Utah with a smile.
"Well, I suppose we just have to prepare ourselves for the inevitable doomsday approaching," said Pennsylvania. "Idaho, you're our best prepper, so we may have need of…wait a moment. Are we missing anyone?"
"Yeah," said Michigan with a frown. "What happened to Florida and the Fuckeye?"
"They're outside," said Connecticut. "And…and…what the devil is going on?" He opened the window and peered out to try and figure out what he was seeing.
Florida and Ohio were clearly playing some sort of game. Though what the rules were was anyone's guess.
"G7!" Ohio called out.
"G7?!" shouted Florida. "King me! King me! I lose!"
"But it's not Tuesday, Florida."
"Maldita sea!"
"What are you blockheads doing?!" Connecticut yelled down at them.
Ohio and Florida exchanged puzzled looks.
"…We don't know," they said together.
Author's Note: Idaho is probably the most underrated state in the whole U.S. There's no real consensus on what Idahoans are in terms of identity. Idaho is also known for having the most unaccented accent in the whole country. And there's even a weird urban legend that Idaho doesn't actually exist and that it's just a conspiracy by the government designed to keep Canada away from Utah and to keep Washington away from Montana. So, I decided that Idaho has the same invisibility problem as his uncle.
I don't know where I got the idea of Idaho being a Bigfoot-hunter came from, but it just seemed like it would be a good running gag to have him hunting Bigfoot while remaining oblivious to the fact that Washington is BFFs with Bigfoot. Oregon, another major Bigfoot-sighting state, just tries to pretend not to notice. Also, I think Maine is the mastermind behind the Jones family's monster-hunting exploits, considering the International Cryptozoology Museum is located in Portland, Maine (yes, there is a Portland in Maine and a Portland in Oregon). I suppose it can tie in with the stereotype of Idahoans being conspiracy theorists.
Idaho has a huge Basque population that has become deeply tied to the social and cultural fabric of the state.
Idaho is known for being the Number One producer of potatoes in the U.S., but it is also one of the largest sources of gemstones. This includes the rare star garnet that is only otherwise found in India. It's also the main producer of trout in the U.S. and the home of the first ski resort in the country and the first ski lift in the world.
Barzilla the raccoon is named after Barzilla Clark, a former Idaho governor. Idaho is an animal guy. In addition to the raccoon and the Appaloosas, he has a peregrine falcon, a tiger salamander, and a mountain bluebird, and possibly many more creatures (all of those animals, except the raccoon, are Idaho state animals).
Idaho's middle name is "Huckleberry" after the state fruit.
"Star Wars" was the nickname for the Strategic Defense Initiative, which was a massive missile defense system proposed by President Reagan as a means of defending the U.S. from Soviet nuclear attacks.
I get the impression that Florida and Ohio team up to do weird stuff together because they both have a bit of a reputation as the oddball states. From what I've heard, Ohio has its own version of the "Florida man [insert weird thing here]".