“Richard, Robert?” Bryce said. “This is Maggie.”
“Hi, Maggie,” they said in unison, their voices sounding both robotic and forced, machine-generated. Then, also in unison, they both tilted their heads to the left and when they went on, I knew it was an act. “It is a pleasure to meet you and to have the honor of your company this evening.”
Playing along, I gave the Star Trek salute. “Live long and prosper.”
They both giggled, and even though they were standing close and it was daytime, I couldn’t detect the mole. But (blue jacket) Richard leaned into (red jacket) Robert, who pushed Richard, who then punched Robert, and after that, Robert was chasing Richard, finally vanishing behind the house.
From the corner of my eye, I saw movement to my right, at ground level beneath the house. When I turned, I saw a youngish-looking woman in a wheelchair emerge, followed by a tall man with a crew cut who I assumed was Bryce’s father.
I’d seen people in wheelchairs, of course. There was a girl named Audrey in my third and fourth grade classes who was in a wheelchair, and Mr. Petrie—like my dad, a deacon at the church—used one, too. But I hadn’t expected his mom to be in one, if only because Bryce hadn’t said anything about it. He could mention that she’d been a pregnant teen but forget to tell me this?
Somehow, I was able to keep my expression friendly but neutral. The two of them approached as his mom called out, “R and R…in the van! Or we’ll leave without you!”
Seconds later, the brothers came roaring around the opposite side of the house from where I’d last seen them. Now (blue jacket) Richard was chasing (red jacket) Robert…
Or were they messing with me?
There was no way to tell.
“In the van!” Bryce’s dad shouted, and circling it once, the twins opened the side door and jumped inside, the van bouncing slightly.
Smart or not, they definitely had energy.
By then, Bryce’s parents had drawn closer and I could see the welcome on their faces. His mom’s jacket was even puffier than mine, and her auburn hair was offset by green eyes. His father, I noticed, stood ramrod straight, his black hair threaded with silver near his ears. Bryce’s mom held out her hand.
“Hi, Maggie,” she said with an easy grin. “I’m Janet Trickett, and this is my husband, Porter. I’m so glad you can join us.”
“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Trickett,” I said. “Thanks for having me.”
I shook Porter’s hand as well. “Pleasure,” he added. “It’s nice to see a new face around here. I hear you’re staying with your aunt Linda.”
“For a few months,” I said. Then, “Bryce has really been helpful with my studies.”
“That’s good to know,” Porter said. “Are you both ready to go?”
“We are,” Bryce said. “Is there anything still in the house that I need to grab?”
“I’ve already loaded the bags. We should probably head out, since you never know how crowded the ferry will be.”
As I was about to head to the van, Bryce gently took hold of my arm, signaling for me to wait. I watched as his parents made their way to the side opposite the door his brothers had used. His father reached inside and I heard the hum of hydraulics and watched a small platform extend from the van, then lower to the ground.
“I helped my dad and grandfather modify the van,” he said, “so that my mom can drive it, too.”
“Why didn’t you just buy one?”
“They’re expensive,” he said. “And they didn’t have a model that would work for us. My parents wanted one where either of them could drive, so the front seat had to be easily interchangeable. It basically slides from one side to the other, then locks down.”
“The three of you figured that out?”
“My dad’s pretty smart about those kinds of things.”
“What did he do in the army?”
“Intelligence,” he answered. “But he’s also a genius with anything mechanical.”
Why was I not surprised?
By then, Bryce’s mom had vanished into the interior and the platform was rising again. Bryce took it as his cue to start walking. Opening the door on the opposite side, we got in, squeezing in beside the twins in the back seat.
After the van backed out, we started toward the ferry and I eyed the twin next to me. He was wearing a blue jacket, and peering closely, I thought I could see the mole. “You’re Richard, right?”
“And you’re Maggie.”
“Are you the one into computers or aeronautical engineering?”
“Computers. Engineering is for geeks.”
“Better than being a nerd,” Robert added quickly. He leaned forward in his seat, turning his head to peer at me.
“What?” I finally asked him.
“You don’t look sixteen,” he said. “You look older.”
I wasn’t sure whether it was a compliment or not. “Thanks?” I offered.
His expression was steady on mine. “Why did you move here?”
“Personal reasons.”
“Do you like ultralights?”
“Excuse me?”
“They’re small, slow, very light planes that only need a short runway to land. I’m building one in the backyard. Like the Wright brothers did.”
Richard cut in: “I make video games.”
I turned toward him. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“A video game uses electronically manipulated images on a computer or other display device that allow a user to engage in quests, missions, or journeys, perform duties, or perform other tasks, either alone or with others as part of a competition or as a team.”
“I know what a video game is. I didn’t know what you meant by make.”
“It means,” Bryce said, “that he conceives games, writes the code, and then designs them. And I’m sure she’ll want to hear all about it—and the plane—later, but how about the two of you let us ride to the ferry in peace?”
“Why?” Richard asked. “I’m just trying to talk to her.”
“Richard! Let it be!” I heard Mr. Trickett call out.
“Your father’s right,” Mrs. Trickett added, glaring at them over her shoulder as well. “And you need to apologize.”
“For what?”
“For being rude.”
“How am I being rude?”
“I’m not debating with you,” she said. “Apologize. Both of you.”
Robert piped up. “Why do I have to apologize?”
“Because,” his mom answered, “you were both showing off. And I’m not going to ask you again.”
From the corner of my eye, I noticed both of them sink lower in their seats. “Sorry,” they said in unison. Bryce leaned closer, his breath warm on my ear as he spoke. “I tried to warn you.”
I stifled a giggle, thinking, And I thought my family was weird.
* * *
We waited in a longish line of cars for the ferry, but there was plenty of room on the deck, and we departed on schedule. Richard and Robert scrambled out of the van almost immediately, and we followed, watching as they raced toward the railing. Behind us, as I put on my hat and gloves, I heard the hydraulic lift. I gestured toward the upper enclosed seating area.