Chapter 9: Ducks Don't Shed

Both of us hopped into the car with smiles on our faces. Slushies and Hot Cheetos were the best combo. I sipped happily on my drink while Juda opened the bag and started snacking with one hand and turning up the music on the radio with the other. I had no idea what song was playing. All I knew was it was one of those road trip songs that you never quite forget, and road trip it was. Or, at least, a mini road trip. Juda drove us to an empty parking lot of an abandoned movie theater about five minutes away. The road trip music didn't stop though, even as we were parked with the windows rolled down, staring at the cloudy, starless Ohio sky through his dusty windshield.

“So, Elodie Bugs James,” Juda said in a sing-songy voice, turning to face me.

“That’s not my-”

“What’s your deepest darkest secret?” What was this, a slumber party? I laughed, shaking my head. I took another long drink of my slushie to avoid answering the impossible question. “Okay, fine,” Juda finally conceded. “What’s your most boring, mediocre secret?” Now, that was something I had never been asked before..

“Um…” I stalled, desperate to come up with any random fact about myself. “I’ve always wanted a pet duck.” Juda threw his head back and laughed at the sudden confession.

“A duck? Oh wow, I love that!” He was still laughing as he ate a few more Cheetos.

“Hey, a duck would be a great pet! They’re cute and they don't shed and-”

“Of course they don’t fucking shed, they’re ducks!” Juda teased. Now it was his turn to roll his eyes.

“What about you, huh? What's your boring secret?” I shot his question back at him.

“Easy,” he said, without hesitation. “I know how to sail.”

“Like, a boat?” I replied, amazed.

“Yes, like, a boat,” Juda joked.

“But you live in Ohio.”

“We used to live in Maine, on the coast. That’s where I learned. My dad taught me, actually.”

“Wow, two facts in one. I guess I got lucky,” I smiled, causing him to chuckle.

“I guess so,” Juda agreed. We both snacked more on our Hot Cheetos and slushies in relative silence, listening to the radio blasting chill, folksy music. The night sky may have been devoid of stars, but the light reflecting against the clouds made a beautiful contrast against the pitch black void above us, reminding me of my smallness. For some reason, tonight, I didn't feel small. I didn't exactly feel big either, but it was a start.

“Okay, I have a question for you,” I said, pulling one leg up against my chest and turning to face him completely. I thought back to the stairwell, how there were virtually no pictures of him.

“Shoot,” he smiled, talking another long drink of his slushie.

“On the wall going up the stairs in your house, there’s pictures of both of your siblings from when they were young.”

“You really are a genius, Bugs. Harvard would be happy to have you.”

“Stop, I'm serious,” I laughed. He laughed right along with me.

“You wanna know why there aren’t any pictures of me when I was a kid,” Juda guessed. I nodded, waiting impatiently for the answer. “When we moved from Maine, a few boxes went missing. One of those boxes was filled with pictures from not just my childhood but Maggie’s and Connor’s, too. Only, almost all of mine were in there, so we lost them. No bad blood between me and the movers though.” That answer, while practical and seemingly truthful, was immensely unsatisfying to me. I only nodded in response. To be honest, I was hoping for something a little more than that. It was whatever, though. We sat in silence once again. The only sounds were the radio, now playing softer music, and us eating and drinking our late night snack.

“Why Harvard?” Juda broke the silence. “And don't give me any of that ‘it’s a great school with great job opportunities’ bullshit.” I scrambled to find an acceptable answer in my head. Somehow, I could only manage to think of one answer: the truth.

“I don't wanna end up like my mom.” After that answer, I played with my straw in my mostly-empty cup, shoveling around the remaining green slush.

“Okay,” was all Juda said in response. Somehow, he knew not to push the issue. After all, that seemed to be my motivation for pretty much all of my decisions in my life. If I ended up like my mother, I don't think I could ever live with myself.

More space between our conversations ensued. You could feel his curiosity through the thick, summer air, but he knew better than to ask for more details, and I knew better than to let him.

“We should get going before my Mom has a fit,” Juda said once his cup was drained and only crumbs remained in the bag.

“Yeah, we probably should,” I eventually agreed. I had almost forgotten about our agreement to come back right after Juda performed. My chest lurched at the thought of making a bad impression my first night here. I didn't want to start any fights either, and I was nervous that that was exactly what was going to happen. After only a few hours of being with Juda, I could already tell his independence was very important to him, so when that was at stake, who knows what could happen?

“Or…” Juda said.”

“Or…?” I echoed.

“Or...we could drive around for a while until the music gets bad.” I weighed my options. Either way, at this rate, we knew we were getting in trouble. It wasn't a matter of “if” but “how much.” As much as I wanted to avoid punishment, I missed having a friend. I never really had a best friend before, and I know I just met Juda and we’re nowhere near best friends, but he’s a good guy, and he’s fun to hang out around. I feel like when I’m with him, I can chill out a little. I don't feel that much anymore.

“Fine. But only for a few more songs,” I compromised, smiling.

“Yes, ma’am.”