This is really just an introduction. The fun will begin in the next chapter.
Chris and Christine
“Seriously, Christopher! We go through this every year.” Chris’s mom said with a sigh.
“I’m not going!” Chris insisted, knowing that he was treading on thin ice. “She treats me like a little kid!” Chris’s mom had to hide a smile. Despite having graduated from high school less than a week before, Chris looked considerably more like a middle schooler. It was to the point where the school had had to special order a graduation gown in a small enough size for him, a fact that his mom kept secret. He took after his father, who had always had more bravado than his slender body could handle. She tried to tell herself that she was not overprotective of her son due to her husband’s fatal accident, but she sometimes wondered.
“She’s your only aunt.” She said diplomatically. “Besides, it’s only for two weeks.”
“She always buys me little kid clothes to wear.”
“She let you bring your own clothes last year, but you refused. Part of the great fit of last year, as I recall.” His mom replied. “All of the clothes fit, right?”
“She made me wear Thomas the Tank Engine pajamas last year!”
“Those were so nice. What happened to those?” She teased. Chris groaned.
“C’mon, mom! I’m not going.”
“You are, young man, and that’s final.”
“But”
“No buts, Chris. Christine is paying for your college. The least you can do is spend two weeks with her before you go to Marcelton.” She sighed. “Since you consider it to be such a punishment,” she rolled her eyes at the thought of that. “If I don’t hear another word about how miserable you are going to visit your only aunt, I won’t punish you for your unsatisfactory report card when you come back.” Chris’s eyes widened. It seemed like a decent deal, even if it meant spending a couple weeks being treated like a little boy.
His aunt Christine, who Chris had always suspected he had been named after, had no kids of her own. Chris had a suspicion that that was why she had no idea how to treat him. Last year, she had insisted on laying out his clothes for him, which had proved to be terribly embarrassing once he saw the tighty whities and other little boy clothes she had bought him, and even tried to help him get dressed until he put his foot down and told her that he was seventeen and needed no such help. Regardless, she had firmly enforced a strict 7:30 bedtime, as well as a forty-five minute nap every afternoon. It had been the longest two weeks of his life.
Last year, he had been so bored once that he had wandered into the backyard of his aunt’s neighbor, an old woman named Mrs. Grantham. He did not mean to break the cherub statue. In fact, he barely even brushed it, but when the neighbor brought it over, Christine made him apologize and then, much to his horror, yanked down his shorts and spanked his tighty whities clad bottom right in front of the smirking neighbor, who made quite a few comments about ‘little boys needing a firm hand’. With his shorts down around his ankles, his aunt had forced him to apologize again before he could pull them up.
Growling as he thought back to that traumatic day, Chris quickly stuffed a few shirts and some boxer briefs into a bag. He knew that the trip was inevitable, but that did not mean that he was any more willing than he had been when he woke up that morning.
He headed downstairs, the bag slung over his shoulder. He paused at the foot of the stairs to check his hair. His mom patiently waited as he brushed a few blond strands to one side, smiling at her son’s apparent vanity. He really was a teenager, even if his body was running a little bit behind. She had reassured him time and again that his dad had a late growth spurt his first year of college that had made him look at least somewhat more mature.
“What’s in the bag, Chris?” She asked curiously.
“Some clothes.” Chris replied with a shrug.
“We went over this last night, Chris. Your aunt is providing your wardrobe, the same as every year.”
“But”
“I sent her more than enough tips about what you normally wear, so it should be a lot more” she paused to look for the right word. “Age appropriate.” She left out the fact that Christine had had to search the boys section of multiple stores to find enough clothes that an eighteen year old the size of a ten year old could wear. “I know you don’t believe it, but she really does feel terrible about the mix-up last year.”
“And every year before.” Chris muttered.
“Drop the bag, mister.” She said sternly. “I swear, sometimes I consider taking your aunt’s advice and spanking you.” Chris sullenly dropped the bag.
“She doesn’t have any campers, right?” Chris was eager to find any excuse to avoid going.
“No, Chris.” His mom said with forced patience. She grew more exasperated by the minute. “Just like every year, she schedules two weeks of free time for her nephew to visit.” Chris nodded. “Into the car. I’m going to miss my flight if you keep dilly-dallying.” Chris sighed, but followed his mom out of the house. He had a very bad feeling about this.
“She’s not even my real aunt.” Chris muttered as they backed out of the driveway.
“One more outburst, Chris, and I will spank you.” His mom said. “Or I’ll have your aunt do it when we arrive.” Chris shut his mouth and pulled out his phone.
He had already texted his friends to let them know he would be out of town for two weeks. Christine’s town had terrible cell reception, even in this day and age, so Chris felt like he was going off the grid. Thankfully, none of his friends knew what he endured at his aunt’s, year after year.
“Oh! Your aunt said that a new family moved next door. I know you had a bad experience with Mrs. Grantham, so hopefully that cheers you up. I think they have some kids around your age.”
“Ah.” Chris said noncommittedly. It would be an hour before they reached Greendale, but he hoped that the trip would take even longer.
By some cruel twist of fate, Chris dozed off and it seemed only five minutes before he woke up to find his aunt’s enormous house in front of him. He groaned as he stretched, hoping that his mom would think it was just a stretching groan and not one of annoyance at already being at his aunt’s.
“I’m going to be late. Can I trust you to find your way inside?” His mom asked, quickly giving him an awkward side hug.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll call your aunt to make sure you’re inside.” She teased. Chris rolled his eyes.
“Bye.” He said before closing the door and treading up to the front door. He took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.