by Liane Shaw
“So basically never, because you never know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re so funny I might actually laugh.”
“Yeah, well, you’d be the only one then. That guy looks like he’s going to a funeral.” Cody points over toward where Jack is standing at the end of his driveway.
He’s holding his backpack in front of him like a shield and is staring down the road at us. Cody’s right. He does look like someone just died.
Not the right thought for the beginning of our trip.
We pull up in front of him and I roll down my window as Cody stops the car.
“Hey!” Cody barely smothers a laugh as Jack looks at me like a deer about to be run over by an SUV.
“Hi,” he says.
“So, hop in!” Hop in? First he’s a deer, now he’s a rabbit.
Jack gets into the back seat. He does not hop. It’s more like inching his way across the seat, as if he can’t believe he’s actually doing this.
“Hi Jack,” Cody says, looking at him in the rearview mirror.
“Hi.” The word is barely audible. I glance at Jack over my shoulder. He’s staring out the side window, obviously not interested in a chat, so I turn back.
Cody rolls his eyes as he puts the car in gear.
I can pretty much hear his thought. It’s the same as mine. This is going to be so much fun.
The car is freakishly quiet for the first while. Even Cody seems to have forgotten how to talk, although that’s probably a good thing because it hopefully means he’s concentrating on remembering how to get there. It’s only about a three hour drive so we’ll be there by noon. We’re registered for the afternoon sessions today and the full day tomorrow. We’re heading straight for the festival, which is good because it delays the time when I have to tell Jack our plans for the night have “changed.”
He’s still staring out the side window, probably wondering how I persuaded him to come on this super fun trip in the first place.
“So, Jack, are you actually gay or what?” Cody asks suddenly, smashing the silence into a thousand pieces.
“Cody!” I punch him on the arm, just enough for him to feel it but hopefully not hard enough to make him swerve into the other lane. I look over my shoulder. Jack has pulled his eyes away from the passing wheat fields and is staring at Cody’s back.
“Ow. Don’t hit me. I’m driving here,” Cody says, trying to sound wounded but obviously enjoying himself. Jack is still quietly staring.
I’m searching my mind, trying to find something remotely intelligent to say that might diffuse the situation but there’s nothing in there that’ll help. Better to just shut up.
The silence fills the car until it takes the air away and I have to open the window so that I can breathe. The lovely smell of cow shit in the summer wafts in.
“That stinks. Close the window. I’ll put the AC on,” Cody says, wrinkling up his nose.
“You live on a farm.”
“Yeah, exactly. I literally have to deal with that shit every day. I’m trying to get away from all that.”
“Me too.” The voice comes quietly from the back seat, shutting both of us up for a second.
“What?” asks Cody.
“I’m trying to get away from the shit I deal with every day too.” Jack’s voice is soft, but I can hear the anger vibrating through it.
“You mean, like cow shit?” Cody says as I shake my head at him.
“No, I mean like your shit. And everyone else who won’t stop asking me if I’m gay or on drugs or trying to kill myself or anything else they can come up with to make it impossible for me to walk down the hall at school without wanting to hide in a locker.”
Cody looks at him in the rearview mirror for a second. I’d rather he looked at the road.
“I wasn’t trying to give you any shit, man. I was just asking. Trying to get to know you or whatever.”
“Really? You couldn’t think of anything more interesting to ask me about?”
I should be interrupting here, trying to start a better conversation so that the trip doesn’t end before we even get there.
“I don’t think Cody meant anything…” I start, but Cody interrupts my interruption.
“Thanks, but I don’t need help talking. It’s cool. I wasn’t trying to piss you off, Jack. I was just…I don’t know…curious.”
“Well, think of something else to be curious about. I don’t want to talk about that.”
Cody obviously can’t think of anything else to be curious about because the car gets quiet again. The AC is blowing nice cool air in my face and Jack has gone back to staring out the window. Cody is focusing on the road.
“It should be just up here,” Cody says after what feels like at least six hours instead of three. We left the wheat fields behind a while back and have been passing strip malls and fast food restaurants as we enter the city limits. The golden arches are making my stomach complain, and I’m wondering if I should suggest we stop and grab lunch.
“Good. We’re almost there,” I tell Jack redundantly. He’s only three feet away so he probably heard Cody.
“Okay,” he answers, looking at me for the first time since we left home. I try a nice encouraging smile. He just shrugs his shoulders. He doesn’t look hungry. Maybe I’ll just forget about lunch for now.
Cody navigates us through a few streets and then we pull up to a large arena. There are cars and people everywhere. Cody sits for a minute, trying to figure out where we’re supposed to go. The car behind us honks impatiently, and Cody offers the driver a polite suggestion with his middle finger. He pulls forward, looping around in front of the building and back out onto the main road.
“There has to be a sign or something telling us where the hell to park.”
“Over there to the left,” Jack says from the back, pointing toward a giant sign that we somehow missed on the first pass. Cody heads toward it slowly, trying to figure out exactly where he’s supposed to be.
We get into a lineup of other cars doing the same thing. There are people floating around with neon orange vests on, presumably directing traffic but mostly just walking around trying to look important. I keep waiting for Cody to make some comment about my hair and how I wouldn’t even need a vest or whatever, but he’s concentrating too hard on trying to follow the crowd to remember to bug me. Everything that seems like a regular parking space looks full, and we just keep driving farther and farther away from the arena.
Finally, one of the pseudo traffic cops waves at us dramatically, pointing to a spot on the grass that doesn’t look big enough for a motorcycle, let alone our car. Cody swears to himself as he carefully squeezes in and stops.
“Did it,” he says proudly, looking over at me. I nod.
“Yeah, except for one thing.”
“What?”
“I can’t get out of the car.” I point to the car beside us, which is about half an arm’s length away.
“You can just squeeze…oh, shit. Right. Your wheelchair.” He looks behind him. “I’ll have to wait until there’s a big enough gap so I can back up and get you out. Could be a while.”
We sit for a few minutes until the stream of cars has been redirected to the next lot and then Cody backs the car out far enough that we can get my door fully open. He stops again and heads back to get my chair. Jack gets out of the back and comes over to me.
“Can I help?” he asks.
“No, that’s okay. Cody’s used to it,” I tell him as Cody wheels the chair over and parks it beside the open door.
“Brakes,” I say to him.
“Right. Forgot.” He puts the brakes on and holds the handles on the back to give a bit of extra stability on the grass. I brace one hand on the chair as I slide my butt across the car seat, easing myself toward the door. Cody’s car seat is higher than my dad’s so i
t’s not a straight across transfer. I have to go across and then get down without falling or destroying my shoulder again.
It takes longer than usual, but I get myself down and in. Cody pulls me clear of the door and slams it shut, then pulls my chair back so I can get turned around.
“Okay. Let’s go.” I start trying to wheel across the grass and manage to get stuck in about ten seconds.
“Here. I’ll push you until we get onto the pavement,” Cody says, stepping toward the back of my chair. Jack moves forward, getting there before him.
“No, I’ll do it,” he says. Cody rolls his eyes and grins at me, heading off across the grass without waiting to see if Jack can manage to move me.
“Thanks,” I say to Jack.
“No problem,” he says, grunting a little as he struggles to get both of us moving so that we can get in there and start having that great time I promised everyone.
Although I can’t imagine the trip can get any better than it’s been so far.
Nineteen
Cody’s waiting at the front door when we finally get caught up, which is a good thing because he has all the tickets. We decided to do the first day without costumes because we figured that would give us more time, which now seems like a good call because it’s already almost one and we’ve missed nearly an hour of the afternoon sessions.
We miss another half hour waiting in line before we finally get in.
And then we all just stop and stare.
I’ve seen comic festivals on TV and the Internet. Much bigger ones than a small city like Bainesville could ever possibly imagine having. I figured that this one would be a mere microcosm of any of those.
If this is small, I can’t imagine how crazy the normal-sized festivals are. This is complete chaos! If I was claustrophobic, I’d be out of here by now, looking for some air because every tiny piece of space in this room is filled by a body. Everyday people hanging out with superheroes and supervillains who are wandering around with characters from virtually every science-fiction movie or show I’ve ever heard of, and quite a few I obviously haven’t. There are also vampires and hobbits, witches and wizards, and all kinds of weird-looking creatures jumping around trying to scare people. Costumes that range from obvious DIY to some that look like they come straight off a movie set. People talking, yelling, laughing. Occasional screams, which I guess mean some creature managed to be more scary than weird. Loud speakers blare unintelligible things that try to compete with all the talking, yelling, laughing, and screaming.
“Oops, sorry man,” Darth Vader growls at me as he tries to pass, catching his black robes on the handle of my chair.
“No problem,” I say to his back as it disappears into the mass of bodies.
“Holy shit!” Cody is just standing there, like the townie that he is, eyes bugging and mouth actually hanging open. Jack is standing slightly behind him, trying to see everything at once and bouncing around like a bobblehead of himself.
“Seriously! Do you know where you want to go first?” I poke Cody in the side, trying to get him to focus on me and close his mouth. People are starting to notice us, which is less than cool, since there is a whole hell of a lot to see here that’s more interesting than three small-town losers looking like lost puppies at a dog show.
“Ow! That hurt! Stop poking me!” Cody rubs his side as I grab the map and schedule out of his hand and start trying to figure out what’s happening where and when.
“There’s a panel discussion starting in about half an hour. Um, there’s a video game demo going on somewhere. I’d like to see that. Oh, and a costume competition later that could be cool. I guess you want to do photos tomorrow with your own costume on, right?”
Cody grabs the schedule back and stares at it. Jack is still just standing there staring with big eyes. I reach over and tap him on the hand.
“It’s cool, isn’t it?”
“It’s totally crazy. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this,” he says.
“Me neither. I figured little Bainesville wouldn’t attract this many people. I guess the die-hard nerds will go anywhere.”
“Nerds nothing. Have you seen some of the girls wandering around?” Cody takes a deep breath and then grins. “This is awesome. Let’s go!”
He heads off into the crowd, as I try to navigate behind him without wheeling over any capes or cloaks. Jack walks beside me, neck twisting, as he tries to see in all directions at once.
“Where exactly are we going?” I ask Cody, who just keeps walking without answering. I’m guessing my voice disappeared into the endless mass of torsos that stream by my eye level.
“Ryan asked you where we’re going!” Jack says loudly. Cody stares back at him, surprised as if he forgot Jack was with us.
“I think the video game demo is right up there, if we can get close enough to see anything. We can check it out while we wait for the panel discussion.”
“Panel discussion?” Jack asks.
“It’s when the cast of a movie or TV show sit and talk about their characters or story lines. They usually take questions from the audience, too,” I tell him because Cody doesn’t.
“Oh.” He sounds thrilled.
“It’s right up there. Here, Ryan, let me help you,” Cody says, grabbing the handles of my chair and starting to push me through. People look down, annoyed, as they feel me brush up against them, but then most of them kind of step aside when they see the wheelchair.
Cody’s taking full advantage of my being in a chair. Shocking.
“Handicapped parking.” Cody grins widely. Jack looks annoyed. I feel annoyed, but it’s not worth getting into it with Cody right now.
Besides, he does have a point because now we can all see what’s going on.
We sit and watch as some guy in full costume demonstrates the levels and graphics of a game on the giant 3D screen. I bet it wouldn’t look nearly as cool on my fifteen-inch desktop screen at home. But the game still looks amazing.
“Okay, enough of that. Let’s go.”
We aren’t even halfway through the demo, and I was just starting to figure it out and get curious about the next level, when Cody turns away, pushing himself through the crowd. He’s apparently forgotten about the benefits of using me as a battering ram, so I’m left to try to navigate my way through on my own if I want to stick with him.
“Here.” Jack steps behind me and helps me through, trying to keep up with Cody, who is now hopping through the crowd like he’s been doing it his whole life.
“Man, that guy is hyper!” Jack says, weaving me around a couple of old-school Trekkies who have to jump out of the way.
“Yup. He should have worn a Tigger suit.”
“I don’t see too many Winnie the Pooh characters here. It would have been funny though.” Jack laughs.
“What did you decide on for tomorrow?” I ask him, raising my voice so that he can hear.
“Oh, just something boring and lame. Not sure I’ll even wear it. I’ll show you later at your friend’s house.”
My friend’s house. Right. I haven’t told him about the plan change yet.
I don’t think now is the time. I’d rather not have to scream it at him.
We keep weaving and wobbling through, trying to keep Cody’s back in our sights. He’s tall enough, but it’s hard to keep track of him with so much to look at between us and him.
“I can’t see him, but I can see the sign for the panel thing,” Jack says, turning me to the left and just missing a giant 3D cardboard cutout of the next big movie coming to a theater near you.
It looks like a cool movie, except that there aren’t any theaters near us. The nearest actual movie theater to our town is almost an hour away, so we don’t watch a lot of movies until we can download them. We’re always behind the rest of the world.
We make it to the panel di
scussion room, which of course is packed with people in front of us because we stopped to watch the demo instead of coming straight here. Cody is waiting at the door.
“I’ll take him,” he says to Jack. I shake my head.
“No way. Once is enough for the whole crippled guy to the front routine, Cody. I’m fine back here. You can do what you want.”
“Fine. Whatever. I can get to the front on my own.” He doesn’t invite Jack to come with him. Jack doesn’t look like he cares.
Cody takes off, slaloming his way through the bodies like they’re moguls on a ski hill. Jack leans back against the wall with his arms folded, and I just sit and listen because all I can see is a bunch of multi-colored butts.
It’s a show I watch regularly, and it’s interesting for a while to hear the actors talking about their roles and giving hints about what might be coming next in the various story lines.
Jack seems bored. I don’t think he watches the show.
The question and answer part starts and I’m pretty sure Cody’s voice is the first one I hear. I can’t make out the question but everyone laughs. Now I’m sure it was Cody.
The whole thing lasts about twenty minutes. Jack looks like he’s actually starting to fall asleep standing up.
“I’m back. That was awesome! There’s a food court thing in the main room, and it’s right next to all the display tables with shit you can buy. I’m totally starved.” Cody is basically vibrating with the need to move on to the next activity.
“I could eat. What about you, Jack?”
He blinks at me a couple of times. Probably waking up.
“Sure, whatever.” He shrugs. Cody stands with his back to Jack and makes a face at me.
“All right. I have the map so follow me,” he says, taking off again. It would be so much easier to track him if he did come in a Tigger costume. He’d be the only one. It’s going to be even harder finding him tomorrow because every second guy here is dressed as Captain America. A few girls, too.
I’ve noticed several people dressed in a costume opposite to what you would expect them to be in, gender-wise. I wasn’t expecting that. I saw a female Harry Potter hanging out with a male Hermione, and even a guy dressed as Wonder Woman.