"Virgil… Virgil! Where are you?"
"I'm here, Ma! Look, I did a painting for you."
Lucille Tracy's initial reaction was to be angry that she'd been made to look for her son. Her next reaction was the pleasure of a parent who's been presented with a 'masterpiece' created with love by their child. Her final reaction was to laugh.
In creating his masterpiece, five-year-old Virgil had managed to get paint through his hair and on his face. He looked like a clown.
"Thank you, darling," She took the still-wet painting. It was of a big green blob with bits sticking out at all angles, against a background of blue.
"It's a airplane," he said proudly.
Now that it had been explained to her, Lucille could indeed see the shape of an aeroplane, although the wings were pointing forwards. "It's lovely." She gave him a hug, her brown ponytail falling forward and brushing against his short hair. The two were indistinguishable. "But we should be leaving now; if you want to go on your holiday."
His face lit up.
"But first," she continued, "we're going to have to get you cleaned up, young man. Let's have a look at your room."
She gazed with dismay at the chaos. It seemed that Virgil had not only managed to get paint on himself, but also much of the room's furnishings. Lucille sighed and said a phrase that she used at least once every day when dealing with her sons, "Where are you when I need you, Jeff Tracy?."
"Right behind you." The voice made her turn. She didn't usually get a reply. Jeff Tracy was standing there. He ran his hand over his dark, short hair. "What a mess!"
"Yes, and I was hoping that we could leave now. I take it you've got the boys in the car."
Jeff nodded. "Yeah, Ma's got Alan and Gordon settled and Pa's just putting the last things in your car."
"Well, we can't go until Virgil's cleaned up and I wanted to get well underway before Alan woke again."
"I know. Tell you what. Virgil can come with us. We'll transfer some of the gear over from my car to yours. Then you can go on ahead, and we'll follow as soon as we've got this young man…" He picked Virgil up and tossed him in the air as his son giggled, "…cleaned up." He placed Virgil back on the ground. "Start packing up your paints, son."
Lucille passed her fingers through her brown fringe before automatically putting it back into place. It was one of those little idiosyncratic habits of hers that Jeff found so appealing. He gathered her into his arms and hugged her affectionately. "I'm really looking forward to this vacation. Two weeks in our cabin; no deadlines, no press, no pressure, just family time."
She squeezed him back. "We'll have to wait until you get there though, and at this rate we won't see you for hours."
"Oh, well. Once I'm there I'll make it up to you. Maybe one day my parents can take the boys fishing and we can spend some time together…" He felt something wrap around his legs and looked down to see Virgil, little arms stretched around both parents' legs, looking up, a big grin on his face, "…alone."
"Aw no!" Scott moaned. "We're not taking him with us, are we, Dad! I thought he was going in the other car. He's a pest."
"He was going to, son, but now he's coming with us so your mother and grandfather can go on ahead. Here, take these blankets and put them into the other car. Thanks."
Scott took the blankets sullenly and said something under his breath.
His father heard what his eldest son had said. "Scott Tracy! Where did you learn that word? I don't ever want to hear you say it!" There was anger in his voice.
"What's wrong with it? It's only a word. Everyone uses it!" Scott stuck his jaw out aggressively, daring his father to make something of it.
"It's not a nice word, and not everyone uses it. Now, if you want to go on your vacation you apologise for saying it." Scott glared sullenly at the ground. "Scott!"
"What if I don't want to go?" The ten-year-old snapped.
"Keep that attitude up and you'll get your wish. You can stay with your Aunty Gertrude."
That was a fate worse than being stuck on holiday with four annoying younger brothers. "Sorry," Scott muttered almost inaudibly.
"Now go and put those blankets in the other car!" Jeff ordered.
Still grumbling about the unfairness of it all Scott complied.
Jeff's father brought Virgil's car seat over, along with John's telescope. "You realise you could be asking for trouble, having those two in the same car for four hours?" he said quietly. "Scott's just itching to make trouble, and Virgil's likely to pester him for most of that time."
"I know," Jeff replied equally as quietly, "but Lucille wants to get going and Virgil's been painting again. Ma's just cleaning him up. I'll go and make an attempt at his room."
"Ah!" A look of understanding passed over the older man's face as he lifted the battered old hat off his head and ran his arm over his hair.
Scott looked at his father and grandfather. They were busy packing the cars. Keeping the cars between himself and the adults, he headed over to the gate. "Hi, Lou," he morosely greeted the teenaged boy slouched against the gate post.
"You still have to go on vacation?"
"Yeah. Two weeks with four kid brothers. Virgil'll be bothering me all the time. 'Play with me, Scott.' I get so sick of his whining voice. It's not fair. They can't see I'm too old to be stuck with babies."
"We're gonna miss your talents."
"You still gonna do it?"
"Yep."
"Wish I was stayin'."
"Yeah, well. This one's just a test drive. When you're back we'll go for the real thing. Whaddya fancy? Merc.? Porsche?…"
"Nah!" said Scott with feeling. "Sean Matheson's T-bird!"
"The Thunderbird! That's a classic! Right Tracy, you're on. Soon as you're back from 'holiday' we swipe the T-bird."
John was standing by quietly fiddling with a present he'd received at his recent birthday. It was a four-piece two-way radio set. "Grandpa!" He suddenly said. "I've made it better! See?" He pushed a button on the handset and the radio burst into life with a crackle of static. "You can take this one with you and then your car can talk to our car."
His grandfather couldn't for the life of him see how the toy radio had been improved, but decided to go along with his eight-year-old Grandson. "Sure, John, you just show me what to do." That task completed he pocketed one of the handsets. "Tell you what, John. When we get there, we'll set up your telescope. The air's much clearer in the mountains. You'll be able to see lots more stars."
"Maybe we'll find some new ones." John was excited by the prospect.
"Maybe. You never know."
Lucille came out of the house followed by her mother-in-law and a still-painted Virgil. "Will you be okay with the three boys?" she was saying.
"Of course!" Grandma Tracy replied. "I've got a few tricks up my sleeve to keep them occupied. Will you be all right with that husband of mine? Mind he doesn't try to take one of his 'short-cuts'."
Lucille laughed. "He's promised to get these two there safely." She looked in through the still-open car door at her two youngest sons. Seven-month-old Alan was asleep in his car seat and Gordon, just one-and-a-half, was dozing in his car seat, his favourite toy, a yellow plastic fish, clasped firmly in his hand.
Her mother-in-law looked over her shoulder. "I still don't know where that boy gets his hair colour from. I don't know anyone on our side of the family with red hair."
"Virgil's was fairly red when he was born."
"Yes, but now Virgil's is the same colour as yours. Gordon's is copper!"
"I guess someone in my family must have been red-headed," Lucille mused. "Unfortunately I don't know."
Virgil ran over to his oldest brother. "Can I sit next to you, Scott? Please, please?" he said eagerly, jumping up and down in excitement.
"No!" Scott rolled his eyes "Ma! Does he have to come with us?"
"Yes he does, Scott."
"But he's just a baby. He should go with you."
"He's not a baby, and he is going with you. Honestly, Scott, I don't know what's got into you lately."
"Maybe I'm too old to be seen with babies! I could stay home by myself. I don't want to go with this runt!"
A hurt look appeared in Virgil's face. His lower lip quivered. He knew his brother was talking about him, even if he didn't know what a runt was.
"Scott!" Jeff's bellow told Scott that he'd overstepped the mark. "Go to your room until we're ready to leave." The boy, grumbling all the way, complied.
"Shush!" Lucille said to Jeff as Alan stirred. "No, it's okay, he's still asleep."
He came and looked in the car to check for himself. "If you want to get going, you'd better get going now." He gave his wife an affectionate smile. "You can fill me in with what's going on with Scott when we get there."
"I think it's his friends at school." Lucille nodded over towards the teenager loitering by the front gate. "I'm not sure but I don't think they are a good influence."
"So maybe two weeks up at my folks cabin will be just what he needs. And if we want to get there you'd better make a start." He gave her a peck on the cheek.
Throughout their married lives Jeff and Lucille had a ritual. As an astronaut, Jeff had seen too many people leave home 'for a day at the office', never to return, leaving bereft loved ones. He and Lucille had vowed that, if nothing else, the last thing they'd say to each other was, "I love you." What had started out as a habit for whenever he'd gone to work had spread into their daily lives and had been inherited by their sons.
"Goodbye, Virgil." Lucille gave him a big hug. "I'll see you up at the cabin. Be a good boy for your father and Grandma. I love you."
She repeated the sentiment to John. "I love you, son. When we're at the cabin we'll really be able to see what your radio can do."
"Love you, Ma."
Then she went back into the house and made her way to Scott's room. He was sitting on the bed sulking. "Scott," his mother said gently, "I'm off. I know that you'd rather not travel with Virgil and John, but it can't be helped. Please try to be patient with them. Show them how they should behave on a long journey."
"John's all right. But Virgil's a pain."
"It's only because he admires you. He's a fan of his big brother and wants to be like you."
"Well, I wish he wouldn't."
"I know." Lucille held out her arms. "Do I get a hug?"
Scott hesitated and then threw his arms around his mother. "I love you, Ma," he mumbled into the folds of her dress.
"And I love you too, Scott Tracy, though sometimes I despair of you. See up at the cabin." She kissed him on top of his head and left the room.