Hunting the Fairy Tale

Chapter 7 - Some Mud and Water

Willow

Sounds of screaming and laughter burst into my room from outside, and Little-Piddle jumps from the bed and starts to bark at the low wall below the windows. It is almost time for dinner, and I'm hanging my school clothes in my closet. I remember seeing Uncle Ryan working in the flowerbeds in the front yard a few minutes ago. Aunt Beth said that he often likes to putter around in the garden for a short while after he arrives home from work. It relaxes him.

"Hunter, if you don't put down that hose at once, I'm going to put you over my knee, I swear!" It's Aunt Beth, and it sounds as if she means business.

"Wow, Ma! Sounds like a fun way to spend the evening. We should sell tickets; nobody would want to miss that show," Hunter's laughter is followed by another scream from his mother. "Hunter!"

Curious, I lift the wispy curtains filtering the light to look out at the front yard.

"Ryan! Corner him from the right and grab him; I'll block him on this end. I'm going to shove that hose up his bu... nose..."

"I'm trying to grab him! He's so blooming fast! Hunter! Seriously! Nooooooo!"

"I'm too scared to put the hose down now!" Hunter laughs. He catches sight of me at my window. "Missy! Call child services! I'm gonna be abused any minute now!"

Missy? As in Miss Priss?

I sigh, rolling my eyes.

"You're going to be abused? We are being abused by you!" Uncle Ryan points out.

All three of them are covered in mud, and Hunter is happily hosing down his parents, himself, the house, and everything in sight. I can imagine all kinds of scenarios that led to all of them being muddy, and they all involve Hunter being a nuisance.

"Willow, Sweetie, please bring us some towels," Aunt Beth asks, and Hunter makes sure that I do not want to by spraying water loudly against my window, making me jump with fright. Little-Piddle renews his attempts to pierce my eardrums, and I shush him with enough authority to make him obey for once.

"Hunter! She's not going to bring us towels if you do that!"

"I won't spray you, Missy, I promise," Hunter grins, but the threatening way in which he's holding the hose is promising something quite different. "Please bring us some towels."

"Please, Willow," Aunt Beth begs, and with a mischievous grin, Uncle Ryan chimes in to assure me that they have the situation under control and that there's no way that I would end up wet and muddy if I were to come out there with some towels. I am starting to believe that this entire family might be evil.

I shake my head, making it clear that I'm not falling for their tricks, and back away from the window, laughing at the sound of their continued begging, broken only by shrieks and threats hurled at Hunter.

The cabinets under the washbasins in the bathroom contain millions of towels of all shapes and sizes. I didn't initially understand the Drakes' need for so many towels, but I'm starting to get the picture now. I grab an armload of old, faded beach towels and march over to my bedroom window. Sliding it open, I toss them out into the yard, closing the window just in time to avoid another spray of water directed at me.

"Thank you, Honey! Hunter! Don't spray the towels! Ryan, speak to your son!"

"Hunter! Listen to your mother!"

"You guys are adorable," Hunter is laughing. "Fine, fine, I'll put the hose away. See, it's gone, it's not a danger anym- Hey! Hey!"

It is Hunter's turn to scream. I take another look into the yard and am surprised to see him lying on the lawn with Aunt Beth sitting on him. While he is squirming and trying to escape, Uncle Ryan is plastering him with mud from a flower bed. They finally let him go, and the war disappears around the corner of the house, with Hunter chasing his parents again.