"Whazzit?" I muttered, still mostly asleep.
"Get ready to leave in a few hours, Daria. We're going camping."
"Camping? Zzz...what?" I nearly nodded off in the middle of the sentence, under the belief I was actually still asleep and it didn't matter.
"We're going camping," my father repeated.
"Huh? Why?" I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. This was the longest conversation I could recall having with my father in the past several years.
"Take a shower and get dressed." He left without answering my question.
I yawned and put on my glasses, still a little unsure if I was dreaming. Midway through my morning ablutions, I finally woke up and realized I was supposed to help Jane dodge going to her family reunion today. She was going to go with Trent (which was bad, naturally), but she confessed that she dreaded to see her Uncle Max. "He likes to pinch me," she told me, shame in her tone of voice. Given Jane's tight-lipped nature on the abuses she took, that astonished (and horrified) me.
Spitting out the toothpaste in my mouth, I went downstairs, where dad was eating plain oatmeal for breakfast. "Can my friend Jane come too?"
He looked at me for a moment, then nodded. "You'll have to share a tent," he informed me."
"That'll be fine." I slunk back upstairs, relieved.
XXXX
"Daria, wake up. We're here."
"Mm?" I realized I had fallen asleep and had the mortifying realization I had been using Jane as a pillow. "Oh God, I'm sorry, Jane," I apologized. She looked more amused than annoyed, but I was no less embarrassed.
"Come on, sleepyhead, let's stretch our legs." We got out of the car and found that my father had already taken the backpacks out of the trunk. Once we had all shouldered one, we got out on the trail and began the long hike to the camp site.
It was a mostly quiet hike. Jane tried to make conversation with my dad a few times, asking him what he did for a living ("Consulting,") or what he thought of Lawndale ("It's nice.") She gave up after a few more one-word replies, giving me a questioning look.
We set up our tent, and dad set up his. After trading a look, Jane and I approached him. "So now what do we do?" I asked.
He shrugged slightly. "Let's gather some firewood." Together, the three of us did minor chores around the campsite for a few hours. Finally, dad grunted and said we could go off exploring a little. "Stay in sight," he warned. Jane and I nodded, and wandered off a bit into the forest. After just a short walk, we found a nice tall rock and climbed up on top of it. It afforded a nice view, and was in sight of camp, so we loitered there for a while. Jane pulled a six-pack of Ultra Cola from her backpack, and both of us took a can and opened it.
"I wish I had a sketch pad," Jane said as we admired the view.
"I didn't know you drew," I said.
Jane looked a little surprised and shook her head. "Oh...I don't."
"Then why do you want a sketchpad?"
"No...no reason. Nevermind." Jane avoided my eyes, then changed the subject. "What's with your dad?"
I shrugged. "He's been that way as long as I can remember. Actually, except for this camping trip. When I was younger, I had to practically beg him to have him take me anywhere; after a while, I stopped bothering. This is the first time he's taken me any place at all since I was twelve."
Jane nodded. "And your mom?"
I shook my head. "I don't know. I...think she's alive, but he never talks about her."
Jane frowned while handing me another Ultra Cola. She popped a second one open herself. "Don't you even know what she looks like?"
"Yeah. I snuck into dad's stuff one day while he was at work, and found a picture of her holding a baby. I'm pretty sure it's her...at least, she looks a little like me. I suppose that would make the baby me. I asked him if my hair was really red when I was that young, and he stiffened up and wouldn't talk to me for a month after. So I guess he was upset I took the picture, but he didn't ask for it back."
"He didn't talk to you for a month?"
I nodded my head. "He bottles up whenever I ask him about anything before I came along, like when I asked him about his time in the military, or anything about my grandparents."
Jane thought about this for a minute. "Still better than my family." I could only nod in agreement.
The sun was starting to set, and Jane handed me my third Ultra Cola, while she held the third. On impulse, I clinked my can against hers. "A toast," I proposed.
"A toast to what?" Jane asked.
"Turning eighteen and putting as much space between ourselves and our fucked-up families as possible."
"I'll drink to that." With that, we both popped our tops and began to drink.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"
The furious roar shook us both, and the cans slipped out of our hands. We whipped around, and there stood my dad, eyes wide, face red, nostrils flaring.
"D-d-drinking some coke," Jane stuttered out. I nodded in concurrance.
He stared unblinking at us for a moment longer, then closed his eyes and rubbed the side of his face. "Just...just be sure to clean up afterward. Dinner soon." He had gone from furious to placid in an instant, and I couldn't help but watch him until he had retreated all the way back to camp.
"What the fuck was THAT about?" Jane hissed, the look of terror still etched on her face.
"I don't have a fucking idea," I said, my voice still shaking a little. My arm also shook as I bent down to retrieve the now-empty can (its contents having spilled when I dropped it). Jane picked up her empties too, and took mine and put them into her backpack.
Dinner was a can of franks and beans. Dad's go-to no-effort dinner was always franks and beans. I ate only enough to stave off starvation, as they had a terrible effect on my digestion. Jane ate two large bowlfuls.
We went to sleep shortly afterward, but I woke up a few hours later to find out that the beans had the same effect on Jane as they did on me. Fleeing the chemical weapon that was her ass, I found dad sitting outside, still awake. The time on my watch said it was nearly two in the morning. "What are you doing up, dad?" I asked.
"Thinking about my father."
"My grandfather?"
He nodded. "He took me camping once. Spent the night downing most of a brewery, and screamed himself hoarse at me when I asked when we were going home."
I noticed that he was surrounded by empty beer bottles first, way more than he usually drank at one sitting. The second thing I noticed was that his eyes were puffy and red. I turned away, embarrassed to realize he was emotionally naked.
"He drank beer out of cans, and when I heard you and your friend opening those cans, I...I was ten again, and terrified to leave the tent to go potty 'cause an animal would eat my peepee. That's what Mad Dog told me."
It took me a moment to realize that Mad Dog was what he called his father. I wondered at the genesis of the nickname, but I didn't want to say anything more than absolutely necessary.
"I...I overheard you telling Jane what a shitty father I am."
"Dad, you're not-"
"I've...I've been trying, Daria, God knows I have. I took you camping, and I do the same damned thing the Old Man did. I wouldn't blame you if you hated me."
"I...I don't hate you, dad. I...l-love you." I stumbled over the word, but I managed to say it.
He started to cry again. "You deserve better!" he quietly moaned. "You deserve better!"
I thought of Jane. "Dad, I could do a lot worse than you. I'm...I'm glad I have you."
He only cried harder after that, and couldn't talk anymore. I sat up with him until he finally passed out, exhausted. I took a blanked out of his tent and tucked him in, then made sure the fire was well extinguished before I got back into my own tent (which had thankfully aired out by that point).
XXXX
"Breakfast, Daria!" Jane announced, as she dropped something into my open mouth.
"Blaggxkh!" I almost gagged on the object, spitting it out. It was some sort of berry. "Where did you get those?"
"I found them on the other side of that big rock we sat on. They're really good!" She popped a few into her mouth and chewed them slowly, moaning to emphasize how delicious she thought they were. She held her hand out.
I reluctantly took a few and nibbled on one. It wasn't bad. I bit into it. My mouth began to tingle pleasantly. "Mmm, not bad," I judged. "They should put these on the pizzas at Pizza King."
Jane smiled and opened her mouth to respond. Then, her eyes became unfocused and she became slack-jawed. She whipped her head around, looking for something unseen.
She dashed out of the tent, stopped in the middle of the camp, and began screaming at the top of her lungs. I clambered out of the tent just as dad jerked up from his slumber. He saw Jane still screaming (and now also flailing about) and rushed over. She tried to batter him away, but his superior strength managed to restrain her arms. "Daria!" he called. "Help me hold Jane down!" His voice lacked none of the emptiness it usually held; this was a Command. I moved to Jane's side without a second's hesitation and grabbed her arm; dad let that one go and used his new freedom to push Jane down onto the ground.
"Do you know what happened?" he asked me.
I shook my head. "No, she was just eating some berries, and she started screaming."
"Berries? Show me."
I left Jane and ran back to the tent, where the handful of berries Jane had dropped still lay. I scooped some up and rushed back.
Dad was staring at Jane's stomach, a look of astonishment on his face. In her flailing, her shirt must have gotten pulled up, and my name - now written in scar tissue instead of fresh gashes - was plainly displayed. He looked up at me and, instead of demanding an explanation, asked for the berries. I handed them over, and he examined them quickly.
"Daria, these are highly toxic and hallucinogenic. If we don't get Jane to a hospital soon, she might die."
"Die?" I said in a tiny voice. Then, I realized I had eaten them too. "Dad, Jane gave me some, and I ate them."
"Daria?" His voice was suddenly very far away, and the world started to melt.