have to make an acronym out of everything, so my friends took GAB and decided I was to be Gabby from then on. Well, Twiggy did that. I can’t say I have a lot of friends.
Twiggy’s real name is Tony, not Anthony. It really is Tony. He is named after Tony Hawke, the snowboarder. So, let’s see if I remember this right. Tony Van Yancy. The name Van came from Van Morrison. So you can see Twiggy’s background is a little different from mine. His parents got divorced when he was four and his dad tried making a living racing cars but he sunk more money into cars than he ever won. Next he tried being a golf pro but ended up running the shop at the local golf course. He wore Bermuda shorts and polo shirts. He had tried going to college just like Twiggy but he majored in booze and drugs, so he strongly discouraged Twiggy from following in his footsteps.
My parents are proper. That’s about the best description I can think of, which is really strange because in Creative Writing 101 I was the one who liked making up fictional, fanciful creatures and filling my stories with things the reader couldn’t even imagine. So I only got a C. Luckily this story only contains real creatures. Or maybe that isn’t lucky. Maybe what’s lucky is that we survived.
I had been geocaching a few times with Twiggy. I thought it was fun and somewhat adventurous. To think there are containers hidden all around us and normal people walk by them all the time without knowing they are there is kind of mysterious. I felt like I was part of a secret society because I knew that the knot in the tree outside the Biology classroom concealed a little box hidden in it and if you reach up and in a little bit you can find it, but only if you know it’s there. Geocachers carry a mystery with them everywhere they go!
“I want a large Super Charged Caffeine Torpedo,” I said to the barista. The barista at the campus coffee shop was used to working nights during finals week. The Super Charged Caffeine Torpedo was so named because it would explode in your brain and cause massive damage, or at least keep you awake long enough to study. University students have a way of over naming just about anything.
“One shot or two?” she asked. She looked just like my sister would if she did what Twiggy said and cut her hair like a rock star and dyed it blue, except my sister was a little pudgy. My mom wasn’t sure what to do with Meredith.
“One… no make it two,” I said.
“Are you sure?” Twiggy asked. “You still need to sleep, you know.”
“I’ll sleep on Thursday,” I said.
“Whipped cream?” she asked.
I looked down at my muffin top.
“No, just the caffeine please.”
Twiggy didn’t order coffee. He ordered a huge cookie. Sugar might help, too, I thought but then remembered my muffin top.
“So what’s this contest?” I asked. “Are you seriously going to do it?”
“Yeah! My dad’s got a fishing trip lined up and he said he’d leave the key under the eaves. He’ll never know if I’m there or not. I don’t really care about a cruise, but just think… geocaching an island overseas! Dang! I’ve never been on an island except when Dopey dared me to swim the lake at the park. All I found over there was tons of goose droppings. It made me glad the only way back was another swim.”
“Geocaching in the Bahamas does sound adventurous,” I admitted. “What makes you think you can win?”
“Because,” he said, “I have the best geocaching partner.”
“Oh cool! Who’s going with you?”
“Uh… you?” he said hopefully.
“There’s no way my mom would let me do that. Where is it? Where will we stay? What time will I get to sleep at night? Is there drinking, drugs, speeding, kissing or anything beyond holding hands involved? Those are all questions I have to have an answer for to get permission to go with you.”
“Gabby, you’re over eighteen. You’re over twenty-one. You are old enough to do whatever you want.”
“But I am not old enough to be disrespectful and do something that would send my parents into a worried, heart wrenching wait for their precious child to return from a wild fling with an irresponsible boy. My mom makes out with my dad on dates. She knows what cars are for.”
“It’s a wonder they had four kids.”
“Twig! What a thing to say!”
“Well, it’s true isn’t it?”
“No! Well… I admit they are a little strict.”
“A little? You’re the only student I know who has to keep a chart proving they brushed their teeth every night. You don’t even lie on it! You could just as easily sign the little box even if you don’t brush your teeth.”
“That would be lying.”
Twiggy and I had this conversation often. It wasn’t that he was a chronic liar or anything, it’s just that his parents didn’t keep track of him as carefully, and to be honest he could really use somebody to keep him from doing things he’d be sorry for later, which gave me an idea.
Chapter 2
I got a B on my final. In the classes I liked better I got A’s just barely. I was a good student, but I wasn’t destined for greatness.
“Hello?” my mom said when she answered the land line. I sure wish my parents would come up to speed with technology.
“Hi, Mom!” I said. “I did pretty good on my grades.”
“That’s wonderful, honey. Your dad and I are so proud of you.”
Akk! She could sure pour it on thick.
“Thanks, Mom. Hey, I need some advice.”
“Of course, honey, that’s what mothers are for.”
“I have this friend. We do this fun hobby together. And well, Twiggy has this bright idea to enter a contest. It involves this hobby, but it also involves some travel. I worry that Twiggy will fall asleep at the wheel or something and we’re really the best of friends. We study together and hang out at the coffee shop. If you had a friend who just wanted to do something a tiny bit adventurous don’t you think you should go along to, like, make sure they didn’t fall off a cliff or get a speeding ticket or fall asleep and run off the road? We have so many similar interests. I can crank up the car stereo and do impromptu karaoke to keep us awake. I’ll even teach Twiggy some hymns if I can go. It would just mean being a little late coming home from college, but I’d be there for Meredith’s birthday.” There, I thought that covered most of her questions.
“What is this hobby?” she asked.
“It’s called geocaching!” I said brightly. “We look for hidden treasures.”
“Like time capsules?” she asked.
“Yeah!” I said only lying a little, teensy bit. They were time capsules of a sort. They just represented a time very recent.
“Where
