“We’re not clueless kids anymore,” Lola said. “We’ve got issues.”
We all sat there for a minute, eating cookies and chomping on worms—like clueless kids.
Then an idea hit me.
“Hey—what if we went on strike?”
My cousins looked at me funny, and Hunter scratched his head. “What does that mean?” he asked.
“I was studying about it in history. When employees are unhappy, they all stop working at once, which causes a bunch of chaos, and then the bosses have to listen to them.”
“Does it work?” Ruby asked.
“It did for the postal workers in 1970.”
“Well, then,” Kendall stood up and dug her fists into her hips. “I think we should go on strike.”
“I agree,” Lola stood and linked arms with Kendall. “How do we do it?”
“I’m not sure on all the details,” I said. “But I know you have to make some signs. Then you march around and don’t work until something happens.”
“Like we get grounded?” Ruby said.
“Yeah,” Hunter added. “I don’t want to get in trouble.”
“I don’t think we’ll get in trouble,” I said. “As long as we stick together. That’s the most important part of a strike. They need us. I mean, who’s gonna rake all those leaves over the next few weeks?”
“I hate raking,” Kendall said.
I looked around at our Lickety Split construction site. “We’ve got a bunch of scrap wood in that pile over there. Wanna make some signs?”
“Ruby and I’ll go home and get some paint,” Lola said.
“I have a hammer and nails in my bucket.” Hunter reached in. “And duct tape.”
“Perfect. We’ve got all afternoon, so we should be ready to strike before the meal scene we’re filming tonight out at Mamaw and Papaw’s.”
“Oh, boy,” Ruby cracked a couple of knuckles. “I’m getting a little nervous.”
“Don’t worry, Ruby,” Hunter said. “Allie knows what she’s doing.”
Hearing Hunter say that made me nervous. After all, I only got a C on that history test about all the striking. I do remember that the strike went well for the postal carriers, but not for the railroad workers . . . or was it steel or coal workers? Hmmm. I was sure that a Carroway had never tried to go on strike, or I would have heard that story.
This was going to be an interesting night. And the cameras would be rolling.
This could turn out to be fan favorite moment number one.
CHAPTER 6
On Strike
My heart raced as we drove up the road toward my grandparents’ house near the Ouachita River. My cousins and I had wrapped our newly painted “strike signs” in a black tarp and stashed them in the back of our SUV. We’d decided where to march—outside, right in front of my grandparents’ kitchen window. We just didn’t know exactly when we should do it.
“We’ll play it by ear,” Lola had said.
Right now, as we drove up and parked, I wasn’t feeling it at all.
“Allie, you’ve been quiet this whole drive. Are you okay?” Mom unbuckled her seatbelt and turned back to check on me in the second seat.
“I’m fine,” I said, and I gathered my jacket and wrist pack, and headed out the door, up the steps to my grandparents’ porch. Judging by the absence of vehicles, I figured we were the first ones here.
Mamaw’s two dogs, Barney with the black spots, and his white poofball-sidekick, Andi, ran up and jumped on the screen door to greet us.
“Get down, you two!” Mamaw came to the door. “Barn-dog, you’re teachin’ Andi bad tricks.”
Andi came to the Carroway family from the animal shelter just a few weeks earlier, right after a bad storm ripped through Louisiana, trapping me, Hunter, Lola, Ruby, and Kendall outside in a flood with a gator. If it hadn’t been for Hunter and his silly duct tape, we might not have survived to meet the little rascal.
Mamaw threw the screen open, and wrapped me up in a big hug.
“How’s my sweet Allie doin’ today? You gave us a real scare last night.”
Poor Mamaw. I’m about to give you a little more grief tonight.
“I guess I gotta stop sneaking snacks under the table.”
Mamaw pulled away, looked me in the eyes, and winked.
“Now, if you’re ever hungry and need a snack, you just come and ask me. You know I always have somethin’ in my purse. That caterin’ food is awful.”
A delicious aroma filled the air.
“Mamaw, are you cooking dinner tonight?”
“You better believe it, honey. I made gumbo! We’ll be able to act like the food’s delicious if it really is, don’t ya think?
I love Mamaw’s gumbo. How were we supposed to go on strike now?
I heard engine rumbles, so I poked my head out the screen door to see Lola and Ruby’s family drive in, followed by Kassie and Wayne’s. They pulled their trucks in next to each other, and my cousins piled out and ran up to the porch.
“Meet at the swing!” Kendall yelled out, and they ran past the door toward the side porch—our favorite place where we’ve had lots of sleepovers with Mamaw.
“Now y’all be careful out there!” Mamaw yelled. “Some things are still messed up from the storm.”
“I’ll be right back,” I said, and I escaped out the door with Barney and Andi on my heels.
“Are you ready for this?” Kendall leaned over the railing looking out at the river in front of Mamaw and Papaw’s house. “When do we get the signs?”
“Mamaw made gumbo for the meal scene,” I said, and everyone gasped.
“I love gumbo.” Hunter breathed in deep and rubbed his belly.
“If we go on strike, do we get to eat?” Ruby asked from her comfortable seat on the covered canvas swing.
“Depends on how it all goes down,” Lola said.
Right then, Papaw Ray came out to meet us.
“It’s a lot drier than the last time you rascals were here. You shoulda seen the junk that washed down the hills onto the riverbanks.”
I wanted to ask Papaw if he had seen a gator with his mouth closed with duct tape. Hunter had done it. He didn’t want to, and it was the scariest moment of our entire lives, but the ugly reptile had pinned Ruby up against a tree, and duct tape was the only weapon he had on him at the time. We didn’t tell the adults all about our frightening adventure, since it was part of an initiation to welcome Hunter into the family and earn him access to our new Lickety Split clubhouse.
“Caught any crawdads lately?” Hunter pointed down to the steel nets that lay on the ground just in front of Mamaw’s prayer bench in the front of the house.
“Naw—too busy gettin’ ready for duck season. The fun all starts in three days, you know.”
“Oh, yeah, we know.” Hunter looked back at us and winked.
“We’ve got the chore list to prove it,” Kendall said.
Papaw laughed. “A little extra work’ll toughen you city-kids up. Make y’all appreciate what your dads do around the house.”
A large black truck pulling a cargo trailer rumbled up the road, causing dirt to fly behind the mud tires.
“Film crew’s here,” Papaw said. “Time to get to work. At least we got some good food tonight. Your Mamaw made gumbo and homemade biscuits. And mac and cheese for you, Allie-girl, since you had such a bad time last night.”
“Yum,” I said.
Papaw pointed toward our group. “So, don’t y’all be late, you hear?”
Another SUV pulled up the road which held Kendall and Hunter’s older siblings, and a few of our little kid cousins. This scene was gonna be big—one way or another.
“Hey, Hunter! Wanna play Frisbee?” Lola and Ruby’s little brother Chase ran up the walk waving at us.
“Yes, but later!” Hunter turned back to look at us girls. “What are we gonna do?”
“It’s now or never,” I said. “As soon as they all go in the house, let’s get the signs.”
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My hands turned clammy and I grew short of breath as I ran down the steps with my cousins and threw open the tailgate of our SUV.
No time for inhalers now.
“Where’s my sign?” Kendall wrestled with the black plastic, and grabbed her sign that said “Raking” with a big circle around it and a slash through it.
“Here’s yours, Lola.” Hunter handed Lola hers, that read “Ducks = No Fun.”
Ruby’s just said “Carroways on Strike.”
And I had two. One said “Privacy, Please!” and the other said “Run from Reality.”
Hunter’s said “Cousin Power.”
“Okay, people,” I said, “let’s proceed to the marching area. When we hear the dinner bell, ignore it. Make them come out and find us.”
“I’m scared,” Ruby’s sign shook a little as she tried to hold it up.
“Just think,” Kendall said. “This is gonna keep my first kiss off the TV.”
Ruby shook her head. “Gross.”
The November sun seemed extra hot, or maybe it was nerves causing me to sweat. We ran to the marching area and formed a circle. Then we started marching. For a few minutes, it was quiet, like no one was even home in the house. And then the dinner bell rang.
Hunter groaned. “I’m getting hungry.”
“Me too,” I said. “But we gotta stay strong.”
Why did Mamaw have to make mac and cheese?
“Keep marchin’, Hunter,” Kendall said. “Or I’ll make you rake my half of the leaves.”
A few minutes later, we heard the squeak of the screen door. Mom and Dad came walking down the steps, both with their arms crossed. Following close behind were Kassie and Wayne—Hunter and Kendall’s parents, then Josiah and Janie—Lola and Ruby’s parents. And right behind them were Mamaw and Papaw. Papaw chewed on a steaming, buttered biscuit. When they all got down to us, they formed a circle around our marching circle. They didn’t say a thing—just stared us down.
I looked up toward the house and saw the older and younger cousins’ faces crowded in the window, staring out at us too.
“Keep marching,’” I whispered, though everyone heard me.
Ruby tripped over a stick and dropped her sign, so we had to stop marching for a second. Hunter helped her pick it up.
“Didn’t y’all hear the dinner bell?” Papaw grinned when he wasn’t gnawing on his biscuit.
I cleared my throat, stood up a little straighter, and threw my shoulders back.
“Yes, we did,” I said. “But, Papaw, we’re on strike.”
“On strike from what?” Dad asked.
“The show,” I said. “That’s why we’re not coming in to eat.”
“You’re not gonna eat my gumbo?” Mamaw wiped her hands on her apron. “I made it with love for all of my children and grandchildren.”
“I want to eat the gumbo,” Hunter said.
“That’s my boy.” Uncle Wayne reached for Hunter’s sign, but he pulled it back.
“But we can’t eat it right now. Not till the strike’s over.”
“And will that be over in the next couple of minutes?” Aunt Kassie glanced down at her watch.
“We should get the film crew out here for this,” Uncle Wayne said.
“No!” Kendall yelled. “That’s what we’re striking against! We’re not kids anymore, and we’re tired of being filmed all the time.”
“Ducks = No Fun?” Uncle Josiah gasped and pointed to Lola’s sign. “Whose child are you?”
“Sorry, Dad.” Lola looked down at the ground. “It’s how I feel.”
“Here’s the issue,” I said. “We can’t go anywhere without people snapping pictures of us, and now we’re supposed to film, do homework, and do extra chores because of duck season. Plus, my family has to move in thirty days.”
I started a chant.
“We need a break! We need a break! We need a break!”
Eventually all the cousins joined in.
And all the adults went back in the house for dinner.
CHAPTER 7
Demands and Deals
We need a break! We need a break! We need a break!”
I continued the chant, but louder, since everyone we wanted to hear this was inside now.
“Hey, Allie, can we take a break right now? My feet are tired.” Ruby set her sign on the ground and went to sit down on Mamaw’s prayer bench. “I don’t think the strike’s working.”
Kendall did the same. “Yeah, I guess I expected a little more reaction from the adults.”
“At least we didn’t get grounded,” Lola said.
“Yet,” added Ruby.
“I think they’re in there eating, and that might be a good thing. Food puts people in a good mood.” Hunter set his sign down, and leaned against the back of the bench, looking up at the house. “I hope they leave some food for us.”
“How long should we stay out here?” Ruby asked.
“Till they come out and meet our demands,” Kendall said.
“I don’t think that’s gonna happen,” Lola hung her head.
“Our parents are as stubborn as us.” Ruby closed her eyes and rested her head on Lola’s shoulder.
We waited in silence for another five minutes or so, and then Papaw Ray came out of the screen door, with a pad of paper and pen in his hand. He was still grinning.
He walked down to us at the prayer bench.
“Can one of you move so this old man can sit?”
Ruby slid off.
“Okay, then.” Papaw Ray sat down and gave us each a long look. “You’re on strike. What are your demands?”
“We don’t want to wear camo anymore,” Lola said.
Papaw didn’t even uncap his pen.
“Request denied. Next?”
“No more raking leaves,” Kendall stomped her foot.
Papaw narrowed his eyes.
“Request denied. Next?”
“We don’t want to be on the show anymore.” I ventured in big with that one.
Papaw raised his eyebrows and stared right at me.
“Allie-girl, are you sure about that? What if God has called you to be in the show to bless folks and shine your light in the world?”
“Uh . . . I haven’t given that much thought.”
“I know you haven’t, so for now I’m gonna deny that request too. You kids got anything else? This is weak sauce.”
“Umm . . .” Hunter waded in. “Can we maybe just take a break? We’ve got homework and now we have a bunch of extra chores. And Allie has to move in with us pretty soon. We’re kinda stressed.”
Papaw leaned back on the bench. One side of his mouth turned up.
“Okay, now there’s a reasonable request.”
A butterfly woke up somewhere in my stomach and flew around.
“Really? You think we could take a break from the show? I’m so tired of people knowing everything and taking pictures and videos of everything. I just want to be anonymous for a change.”
Papaw stroked his beard. “I think that can be arranged. We’ve got some holidays comin’ up, don’t we? Aren’t you kids outta school sometime near Thanksgivin’?”
“Yeah,” Kendall said. “But we always have to film that traditional ‘live’ show where we do the pilgrim play and chase wild turkeys around. We’re growin’ up, Papaw. Can’t we do somethin’ else?”
We watched as Papaw scribbled some notes on his paper. Then he finally looked up.
“How about we scrap the turkey show, and I send y’all on a vacation instead?”
I was pretty sure my ears were full of wax, because I thought I heard Papaw say he was going to send us on a vacation.
“A Vay. . . . cay . . . shun?” Lola looked like she might faint right there on the bench.
“Yep. I’ll send you wherever you want to go for a week.”
“Disneyland?” Ruby jumped up and down.
“Except Disneyland, because we just went to Disney World a few months ago, and you got lost, young
lady. But I could send y’all to California to visit Ryan and Brittany.”
“Can we go to Malibu?” Lola’s always talked about living there and doing nothing but painting and playing beach volleyball.
“I want to go to the La Brea Tar Pits!” Hunter’s eyes bulged out of his head. “I need to see dinosaur bones.”
I held my hand out. “It’s a deal, Papaw.”
Papaw shook his head. “Not yet, Allie-gator. I’m not done negotiatin’ just yet.”
“What are you talkin’ about?” Kendall asked.
“Well,” Papaw leaned back again. “During a strike, people make deals. You give some things and you get some things. I’m willin’ to give you a vacation, but you gotta give me somethin’.”
“What?” I realized I was still holding my “Run from Reality” sign, so I lowered it to the ground.
“You give me your promise that you won’t take any video or photos while you’re on your trip, and that you won’t tell a single livin’ soul about anything that happens while you’re gone. It’ll be just like you say you want things to be—totally private. It’s time you feel what that’s like.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Kendall huffed and puffed. “What if I meet one of my favorite singers in Hollywood? Are you sayin’ I can’t take a selfie?”
“That’s what I’m sayin.’ Take it or leave it, but those are my demands.”
We were all silent for a moment. No pictures or video. No bringing back stories. No one would know where we’d been or what we’d been up to.
It sounded perfect to me.
“Deal!” I yelled, which made Ruby jump.
I looked at the other cousins.
“Well, if it’s okay with all of you.”
Lola smiled.
“I can’t wait to see a Malibu sunset.”
I held up an index finger. “But no pictures, right?”
She cocked her head and looked at Papaw. “Could I paint it?”
Papaw stroked his beard and thought a minute.
“I wouldn’t be against that. It will give you time for quiet reflection.”
“Then I’m in,” Lola said.
“Me too. I’ve always wanted to eat at In-N-Out Burger.” It doesn’t take too much to make Ruby happy.
Running from Reality Page 4