There is a moment, however infinitesimal, right before water boils, and right before water freezes. A point at which a cataclysmic change is about to take place, yet still lies just below the surface. A point at which we have one last chance to change the direction of things, for better or for worse.
There was no soup, so they forced me to eat a cracker. Technically, they enacted the “Lexi Doctrine,” a throwback to when Darris wouldn’t eat two years ago. He was forced to eat crackers with peanut butter, and we forced our niece Lexi to make him do it, because we knew he wouldn’t be mean to her. So they made me eat a cracker. Even though I begged them not to, told them it wouldn’t go down. And it didn’t. And I was pissed. And like a baby, I made sure they saw all the dry-heaving that came with it. Was I dry-heaving? Yes. Did I make a huge dramatic big deal of it? Yes. It’s embarrassing to admit, and it’s embarrassing to write. But I was pissed that they weren’t listening to me. I was pissed that I had already been in the van and they were threatening to put me back in if the lightning storm got closer. I mean, hadn’t they seen “Running on the Sun?” And if the lightening was so bad, why hadn’t anyone thought to confiscate my iPod? I mean, don’t they conduct electricity or something? Then one of my favorite remixes came on. It starts with a thunderstorm. And I was marching and I was PISSED, but I was also coming up on the DVNP sign. I was officially leaving Death Valley. And damn it, I was running out. So I ran. I was moving faster, but my mood was unchanged.