Flying High
Chapter 3
Blake stayed with Carl until it got dark, when Winston called the house to bring him back. Carl had cheered up considerably since then, especially when hearing Ginger's side of her telephone conversation.
He stared at the brown stain, wondering if it would change colours the longer it stayed there. Ginger could be heard talking to Dodie and Macie. The words, "irresponsible" and "could trust him" were heard. He winced as Ginger raised her voice and slammed the phone down. Obviously one or both of them had been less on Ginger's side than she might have liked.
The doorbell rang from downstairs and Carl grinned as he heard Hoodsey's voice, muffled from it seemed were crisps. Bounding out of his room, and nearly falling helter-skelter down the stairs, he saw him.
"Blake called me to tell the good news"
"Good news?" Carl looked bewildered at Hoodsey.
"Yeah, you getting expelled. Pretty cool, isn't it?"
Carl mumbled something under his breath. His mind slightly reeling. Blake had called Hoodsey to tell him that. Without considering if Carl wanted to tell anyone else. Besides Hoodsey and he had been friends for beyond forever. This was something he wanted to have told him.
"What's wrong? Anyway, my dad booked these really great tickets, to go on a helicopter over the Sheltered Shrubs valley district, you want to come? This is his part of the month to do the family activity," he held a hand up, "don't ask. Dodie will be coming too, so I need someone I can talk to." Carl ran a hand through his hair.
"I don't think Mom's going to let me go. The whole "your son is a barbaric monstrosity of life," is sort of off-putting, don't you think?" Hoodsey gave a snort of laughter which mutated to a full belly laugh.
"Did it really say that," he pouted slightly, "none of mine say that. Although, they always seem to mention you in some context. It's a sidekick curse; you're never quite in the limelight. No matter what you've done." Hoodsey masked it well, but Carl could clearly detect the bitterness underlying it. He didn't suppose people ever would stop considering him as just Carl's lackey or sidekick. This was a shame as over the years Hoodsey had even started to take control of what they did, and what schemes they pulled.
"Nah, I'm adlibbing. Even though it was about the gist of the letter. You
want to stay for dinner? Mom's making pickle and cheese dip."
Hoodsey considered this for a moment, before he shook his head, his own dinner of fried onions and kidney beans waiting at home.
"Well, have to go home. I still need to do that History essay. Hey, Blake's good at history. Maybe I can get to help me." Carl raised an eyebrow, knowing that Blake would never do the kind of "help" that Hoodsey wanted. Laughing Hoodsey strolled off. His hands in his pocket, and his mind on the American Red Scare.
Carl slumped himself on the couch, and idly fingered the ornate carvings of Lois and Dave's wedding picture. Recently his stepfather had taken the opportunity to study traditional medicine in Africa. Carl smiled as he thought of the man facing down snakes and tigers. HE turned on the TV, and idly flicked through the channels. He gave a mocking yawn at a gardening show, and curled his lip up at a tasteless chat show.
The next channel made him drop the controller in shock. **\\
End of chapter 3. It's shorter than usual, but I've got the plot working for me now. And some mild hints of what's to come relationship wise. You want to try to guess them. No? Oh well, next chapter appearing when I'm not busy, so see ya!
Chapter 3
Blake stayed with Carl until it got dark, when Winston called the house to bring him back. Carl had cheered up considerably since then, especially when hearing Ginger's side of her telephone conversation.
He stared at the brown stain, wondering if it would change colours the longer it stayed there. Ginger could be heard talking to Dodie and Macie. The words, "irresponsible" and "could trust him" were heard. He winced as Ginger raised her voice and slammed the phone down. Obviously one or both of them had been less on Ginger's side than she might have liked.
The doorbell rang from downstairs and Carl grinned as he heard Hoodsey's voice, muffled from it seemed were crisps. Bounding out of his room, and nearly falling helter-skelter down the stairs, he saw him.
"Blake called me to tell the good news"
"Good news?" Carl looked bewildered at Hoodsey.
"Yeah, you getting expelled. Pretty cool, isn't it?"
Carl mumbled something under his breath. His mind slightly reeling. Blake had called Hoodsey to tell him that. Without considering if Carl wanted to tell anyone else. Besides Hoodsey and he had been friends for beyond forever. This was something he wanted to have told him.
"What's wrong? Anyway, my dad booked these really great tickets, to go on a helicopter over the Sheltered Shrubs valley district, you want to come? This is his part of the month to do the family activity," he held a hand up, "don't ask. Dodie will be coming too, so I need someone I can talk to." Carl ran a hand through his hair.
"I don't think Mom's going to let me go. The whole "your son is a barbaric monstrosity of life," is sort of off-putting, don't you think?" Hoodsey gave a snort of laughter which mutated to a full belly laugh.
"Did it really say that," he pouted slightly, "none of mine say that. Although, they always seem to mention you in some context. It's a sidekick curse; you're never quite in the limelight. No matter what you've done." Hoodsey masked it well, but Carl could clearly detect the bitterness underlying it. He didn't suppose people ever would stop considering him as just Carl's lackey or sidekick. This was a shame as over the years Hoodsey had even started to take control of what they did, and what schemes they pulled.
"Nah, I'm adlibbing. Even though it was about the gist of the letter. You
want to stay for dinner? Mom's making pickle and cheese dip."
Hoodsey considered this for a moment, before he shook his head, his own dinner of fried onions and kidney beans waiting at home.
"Well, have to go home. I still need to do that History essay. Hey, Blake's good at history. Maybe I can get to help me." Carl raised an eyebrow, knowing that Blake would never do the kind of "help" that Hoodsey wanted. Laughing Hoodsey strolled off. His hands in his pocket, and his mind on the American Red Scare.
Carl slumped himself on the couch, and idly fingered the ornate carvings of Lois and Dave's wedding picture. Recently his stepfather had taken the opportunity to study traditional medicine in Africa. Carl smiled as he thought of the man facing down snakes and tigers. HE turned on the TV, and idly flicked through the channels. He gave a mocking yawn at a gardening show, and curled his lip up at a tasteless chat show.
The next channel made him drop the controller in shock. **\\
End of chapter 3. It's shorter than usual, but I've got the plot working for me now. And some mild hints of what's to come relationship wise. You want to try to guess them. No? Oh well, next chapter appearing when I'm not busy, so see ya!