surprised me, that’s all. Can we go inside now?”
Sure. Why not? It would be the last time he ever saw her, so he should try and make the best of it.
Gia paused at the gate as he headed toward the booth to buy tickets. She stood gazing at the banner that hung across the entrance. “Welcome to the 23rd Annual Blueberry Catfish Festival,” she read aloud and then glanced at Rocky. Her face almost disappeared in the glow of the setting sun. “What kind of weird little town combines a blueberry and a catfish festival? It makes no sense.”
“I looked it up,” he said and pulled his wallet from his pocket. “The blueberry people had their festival for years when the catfish people decided they wanted one, too. The Chamber of Commerce and city government refused to spend money on security, insurance, and all that on two festivals when there was no guarantee people would come and spend money here twice in one summer. Hence, the Blueberry Catfish Festival was born.”
“Hence?”
“Yes, hence. Do you want catfish for dinner?”
“Do you?”
“It’s kinda what they do here, but if you don’t want a plate we can try and find something else later.”
“No, I’m hungry. Is there blueberry pie for dessert? And don’t say it’s kinda what they do here.”
“I wasn’t going to say that.” He tossed a wad of cash on the counter. “Give me however many tickets we need for food, drinks, games, rides, whatever.” He shoved the tickets into the pocket on his chair and fished around for his sunglasses. Gia stood nearby looking confused. Extremely cute, but confused. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. But I heard you say rides. You want to ride rides?” She fell in step with him and noticeably bypassed the turnstile in order to stay with him as he passed through the accessible gate.
“Don’t you?”
“Absolutely not.”
He snaked through the crowd and stopped in the shade near a booth where he intended to exchange tickets for bottled water. “Don’t say that on my account, Gia. This chair doesn’t stop me from much.”
“I know that, Rocky.”
“I’m not trying to be weird here, but I don’t want you to think you need to do anything extra for me or not do something because of me.”
She sat on a wooden bench. “Now I’ve offended you.”
His high hopes began to fade. Why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut? “Of course not. Never mind.”
She pulled her hair to one side and fanned the back of her neck with a festival brochure. “No, tell me what you’re trying to say.”
“First of all, don’t ever listen to me. I’m an idiot. I was only thinking of that conversation we had at camp. You’re always in that counselor-protector-nurturer mode which comes naturally to you. Don’t feel like you have to be that way because I use this chair. I can take care of myself. I want you to have a good time here.”
“I appreciate that and I will. Despite my zeal to help you that first day, I know you’re a big boy. So let’s agree that I’ll respect your boundaries and you’ll accept my help when I decide you need it. Right?”
“Right. No, wait.”
She laughed. “No, you agreed. Can we get water now? And food? I’m literally counting the minutes until the sun goes down and the temperature drops off a bit.”
Lord help him he was crazy about this girl. “Sure. Let’s eat. I hear the food tent has A/C.”
Rocky sped forward. He avoided people who stepped in front of him, and popped over loose cords that were strewn across his path. Beads of perspiration formed at his neckline and soaked the collar of his white polo shirt. He, too, was counting down until sunset. Body odor and pit stains were no way to impress a girl. He was used to the humidity, but excessive heat in a poorly ventilated chair made for quick dehydration and sweat-soaked pants—even more unimpressive to the ladies.
Gia touched the handle of his chair. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yes, Gia, I’ll be happy to win you
Sure. Why not? It would be the last time he ever saw her, so he should try and make the best of it.
Gia paused at the gate as he headed toward the booth to buy tickets. She stood gazing at the banner that hung across the entrance. “Welcome to the 23rd Annual Blueberry Catfish Festival,” she read aloud and then glanced at Rocky. Her face almost disappeared in the glow of the setting sun. “What kind of weird little town combines a blueberry and a catfish festival? It makes no sense.”
“I looked it up,” he said and pulled his wallet from his pocket. “The blueberry people had their festival for years when the catfish people decided they wanted one, too. The Chamber of Commerce and city government refused to spend money on security, insurance, and all that on two festivals when there was no guarantee people would come and spend money here twice in one summer. Hence, the Blueberry Catfish Festival was born.”
“Hence?”
“Yes, hence. Do you want catfish for dinner?”
“Do you?”
“It’s kinda what they do here, but if you don’t want a plate we can try and find something else later.”
“No, I’m hungry. Is there blueberry pie for dessert? And don’t say it’s kinda what they do here.”
“I wasn’t going to say that.” He tossed a wad of cash on the counter. “Give me however many tickets we need for food, drinks, games, rides, whatever.” He shoved the tickets into the pocket on his chair and fished around for his sunglasses. Gia stood nearby looking confused. Extremely cute, but confused. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. But I heard you say rides. You want to ride rides?” She fell in step with him and noticeably bypassed the turnstile in order to stay with him as he passed through the accessible gate.
“Don’t you?”
“Absolutely not.”
He snaked through the crowd and stopped in the shade near a booth where he intended to exchange tickets for bottled water. “Don’t say that on my account, Gia. This chair doesn’t stop me from much.”
“I know that, Rocky.”
“I’m not trying to be weird here, but I don’t want you to think you need to do anything extra for me or not do something because of me.”
She sat on a wooden bench. “Now I’ve offended you.”
His high hopes began to fade. Why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut? “Of course not. Never mind.”
She pulled her hair to one side and fanned the back of her neck with a festival brochure. “No, tell me what you’re trying to say.”
“First of all, don’t ever listen to me. I’m an idiot. I was only thinking of that conversation we had at camp. You’re always in that counselor-protector-nurturer mode which comes naturally to you. Don’t feel like you have to be that way because I use this chair. I can take care of myself. I want you to have a good time here.”
“I appreciate that and I will. Despite my zeal to help you that first day, I know you’re a big boy. So let’s agree that I’ll respect your boundaries and you’ll accept my help when I decide you need it. Right?”
“Right. No, wait.”
She laughed. “No, you agreed. Can we get water now? And food? I’m literally counting the minutes until the sun goes down and the temperature drops off a bit.”
Lord help him he was crazy about this girl. “Sure. Let’s eat. I hear the food tent has A/C.”
Rocky sped forward. He avoided people who stepped in front of him, and popped over loose cords that were strewn across his path. Beads of perspiration formed at his neckline and soaked the collar of his white polo shirt. He, too, was counting down until sunset. Body odor and pit stains were no way to impress a girl. He was used to the humidity, but excessive heat in a poorly ventilated chair made for quick dehydration and sweat-soaked pants—even more unimpressive to the ladies.
Gia touched the handle of his chair. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yes, Gia, I’ll be happy to win you
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