A Girl Named Fritz: Intro

Duct tape...duct tape...where's the duct tape?
I looked around the maze of boxes in my bedroom, trying to find the misplaced roll of duct tape among the box towers. I was on my last box and, sure enough, the little bugger went missing on me. After a short search, my youngest brother Jeremy popped into the room with duct tape roll on hand. Like most of my younger brothers and unlike most ten-year-olds, he was a moose of a kid with swirls of thick blonde hair and a face pocked with huge acne pimples. His t-shirt had an ice cream stain and his jeans had holes in the knees.
"Hey, Fritz, are you looking for this?" He held up the almost-empty roll of tape and the end looked lke it was chewed off.
"Yeah, you numbnut! Why'd you take it?" I snatched the roll out of his hand and returned back to the box.
"I had to fix that hole in the window screen in Derek's room."
"With duct tape? Seriously?" I yanked a strip off of the roll and attempted to close the box with it.
"Yeah, Mom told me to," Jeremy said as he leaned against the door jamb, "she said she wasn't going to spend another thirty bucks on a window screen." He started giggling, and I looked down to find I had duct-taped my hand to the top of the box.
"Aw, damnit!"
"Way to go, Fritz!"
"Shut up and hand me the scissors," I snapped, and he handed me Mom's sewing scissors from a nearby box. I wiggled the blades under the tape and, in one quick cut, my hand was free."My last box, go figure!"
"Guys! Time for dinner!" my mom yelled from across the house, and Jeremy bolted down the hallway. I smmothed the tape back down on the box and followed him, washing my hands in the hallway bathroom on the way to the table. The table was set up with the usual: stoneware plates and Tupperware glasses with mismatched stainless steel flatware. Mike, Devin and Derek were already sitting down and Jeremy was sitting himself down when I came in; the oldest brother, Roger, was at work and wasn't eating. Dad put down his newspaper and made his way to the table as well; Mom put a pot on the center of the table and Devin took the lid off. Tonight's meal was my favorite, called 'Stuff': a mixture of fusilli noodles (or "springy noodles" as we call them), smoked sausage slices, whole baby carrots and corn topped with sharp cheddar cheese.
"Stuff?" he asked, "didn't we have this three days ago?"
"No, that was egg noodles," Mom said as she took a plate. "This is Fritz's last homemade meal before she leaves tomorrow." She emphasized 'last', making her sound like a sheep.
"And I get her room!" yelled Devin.
"No, I do!" Mike retorted.
"It's gonna be my workshop!" Derek chimed in.
"Enough!" Mom yelled.
"Yeah, you twerps," I added, "I haven't even left yet and you guys are fighting over my room."
"Where have you been all summer?" Devin said as he stuffed his face. "We've been at it since your graduation."
"I was working at the Girl Scout camp, remember?" I said as I pushed my bronze-rims back on my nose. "Where'd you think I got all these skeeter bites from? Hell, I came home to, 'It's my room! No, my room!' Nice to know I'm loved around here." I took another forkful of Stuff, but the boys were close to cleaning off their plates. Mom shot me a stern look.
"Hon, you're nineteen years old. It's time to the birdie to fly away from the nest."
I sighed. "Did you say the same thing to Betsy when she moved out?" I shot back as I stuffed my face.
"With her it was 'don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out.' Mom lobbed back. "You know she wouldn't shut up about going to Michigan State."
"U of M is better." Devin said.
"Does it matter?" Dad snarled. "I don't care if it's clown school. As long as she's happy with your choice, that's all that matters."
"I am. First it's Lakewood Community College, then I'll see where it goes from there. One step at a time, right?"
"It's better to go to a two-year and see what you want than blow big bucks at a four-year and not know what you want. I wish your sister did that, but you know how bullheaded your sister is."
"Yeah," I said, "you have to get out the red cape whenever she gives an opinion."
All of us chuckled at my joke as they scarfed down the Stuff. After a brief pause, Dad wiped his moustache with a napkin.
"Well, hon," he chimed in, "did you finally finish packing?"
"I just taped up my last box, and I somehow managed to tape my hand to the top of it."
"Maybe that's God's way of telling you that you have too much stuff," Mom said, "the garbagemen and the thrift stores had a field day with your rejects."
"I'm a packrat, what can I say? That's nineteen years of stuff I had to sort through." My stomach churned as I said that.
"At least I got her old stereo," Devin chirped, "I'm gonna hardwire a subwoofer to that sucker!"
"You can't hardwire a record player!" Mike sneered.
"You're not hardwiring anything!" Mom snarled at Devin. "I don't need an eleven-year-old playing with electric."
"Aw c'mon!"
"No!"
I sighed as I finished my plate. "The last thing Mom needs is another stereo vibrating the floors."
After dinner was eaten, I helped Mom clear the table and the boys got up from their chairs; as I went back to my bedroom, I noticed Mike and Derek in there looking at the massive spread of boxes.
"Guys! What are you doing in here?!?"
"Mom said we had to put the stuff that you're keeping under the stairs."
"I told you before, I put that stuff on the bed."
The boys looked at all the boxes on the mattress and their eyes bugged. "All that?!?"
"All that."
"Jeezus! You are helping us!"
"Well, duh! It's my stuff!"
The boys and I started taking boxes off of the bed and down into the crawlspace; my old tabby, Brutus, kept winding around our ankles and meowing; he would occasionally trip one of the boys.
"Yipe! Go away, you damn cat!"
"Don't kick the kitty!" I yelled, then looked at my baby of cat. "Brutus! Not now, okay? Mommy's gotta put all of her stuff away, okay?"
"Too bad you can't take him with you."
"I know, I know, but the dorms don't allow pets. He has to stay here with Grandma and Grandpa and the five idiots."
Devin dropped a box under the crawlspace. "Hey, who's moving your boxes, Fritz?"
"Yeah," Mom yelled from the kitchen as she washed the dishes. "This is not the time to call your brothers idiots!"
"I will if they drop my boxes!" I yelled. After several trips, all of the keeper boxes were put under the crawlspace and Brutus sat in front of them, still mewing. I sat down on the top step and began stroking his marmelade fur; he began to rub his head against my bare shins and hit his tail against the stairwell.
"I told you several times before, Brutus. Mommy is going away for a long, long while and I don't know when I'll be back. Grandma said she'd take care of you and give you lots of hugs and kisses and she'll clean your cat box. I'm gonna miss you, but I'll be back, and when I do come back I'll give ya lots of loving, okay? I promise ya."
Brutus looked at me with his yellow eyes and slowly walked back down the stairs, tail between his legs.
"Apparently he still doesn't want me to go." I sighed and made my way to my semi-bare bedroom; I took my purse-a denim shoulder bag covered with beads, stickers and paint splotches-out of there and went back to Mom, who was now in the living room croceting a blanket as Dad played Solitaire on the computer.
"I'm going to take one last trip to Pine Beach, Mom. I'll be home before dark."
Mom stopped and dropped her hook. "Now? Hon, don't forget we have to load up the car tonight."
"I'll have the boys help me do that when I get home. I want to see one last sunset."
"Okay, but behave and stay out of trouble. No teasing the tourists either."
"Alright, I'll leave the fudgies alone. See ya later!"
I walked out the front door and to the beach, paying closer attention to the neighbors' property. There's Mrs. McCormick and her horde of Shih Tzus, I thought to myself as I walked by, and Mr. Hawkins and his damn near perfect lawn. Heaven forbid you put a foot on it or else he chases you with a rake. There's Barb with her lawn gnomes...the flamingo pink house...and there's the Barry twins working on their motorcycles, again...hey, there's John Ford! I guess that hip replacement finally healed up...and there's Dexter destroying yet another tennis ball. I remember when he was a puppy...
I finally made my way to Pine Beach; it was a long strip of rocky zebra-mussel-speckled sand with a playground, a pavillion, a snack bar and a pier. The concrete pier had a lighthouse at the end and a circlepath in the middle; the middle of the circlepath was a rocky water hole that was a favorite (and illegal) diving spot for teenagers. Large boulders lined the breakwater side of the pier and were a favorite place for kids to climb on. Lake Michigan lapped at the beach and several people were bent over in the sand, looking for shells, beach glass and Petoskey stones. A few kids played on the playground and several sunbathers laid on blankets or towels; a few kids dived into the water hole before they were chased away by police. I made my way onto the pier, where several people were taking pictures or waiting for the oncoming sunset, and looked down into the now almost-still water. Suprisingly, I could see my reflection: a half-kid-half-woman with pixie-cut purple-streaked brown hair, brown eyes hiding behind glasses, ears dripping with homemade jewelry and wearing a vintage Ted Nugent tee shirt over faded green cargo shorts.
"Any fish down there?"
I looked over to see an elderly guy in a motorized wheelchair holding a bucket in one hand and a fishing reel in the other, his hat said "Hoof Arted?". "No, sir," I replied. "Unless you're fishing for seaweed or rocks."
"Damnit." He said and he sped off down the pier. Hands in my pockets, I walked slowly down the pier. Well, I thought, after tonight, I won't have to use that tired old line anymore. Hell, I won't even have to see fishermen anymore...or the kids jumping into the waterhole...or people like those two lovebirds macking under the lighthouse. Nope, I'll be on my way to Lakewood and away from the brothers and the folks and the fudgies. I can do whatever I want, wear whatever I want, and listen to whatever I want and nobody can stop me except me. It's gonna be the best years of my life, and if they aren't, I'm doing something wrong!
I made by way down to the lighthouse and leaned on the railing as the sun began its slow descent into the horizon below. The pier was already crowded with sightseers and late-season fudgies. The sky was streaked with oranges, pinks and reds; several low-lying clouds became tinted with magenta. Several people whipped out their cameras and oohed at the spectacle, but I just leaned my arm against the railing and kept quiet.
"Sure is pretty isn't it?"
"What?" I looked over to see some fudgie my age standing right behind me, holding a very slim silver digital camera and trying to focus on the sunset.
"I said it sure is pretty."
"These sunsets always are. I see them all the time."
"Really? Lucky you!"
Just then, his arm bumped the railing and the camera fell out of his hands; he tried the grab the camera in midfall, but he missed and it tumbled down into the breakwater's rocks.
"Oh, shit! My camera!" He tried to squeeze between the railing's gaps, but he couldn't fit. "Jesus Christ, I just bought that thing! $700!"
"Whoa, that much?" I looked down into the rocks and spotted a sliver of silver. "Hold on a sec, I think I see it!" I climbed over the railing and down over the rocks; since the rocks were loosely chunked together, there were a lot of gaps and cracks. After a short search, I found the camera in a crevice just a few inches from a pool of algae-laden water. Still in one piece and badly scratched, the camera's battery door had popped open and the batteries were missing.
"Found it!"
"Oh, dear god! Does it still work?!?"
"I can't tell!" I climbed back up the rocks, tucking the camera into one of my cargo pockets in my shorts. "The batteries popped out!"
"Oh shit, I hope I have fresh ones!" I handed him his camera as I neared the railing; he showered me with thank-yous as he popped his last pair of AAA batteries back into the camera. By the time I got back on the pier, most of the sun had dipped below the horizon.
Well, I thought as I wiped off my legs and sneakers; one thing I won't miss when I go to Lakewood is chasing fudgies' cameras out of the breakwater. Hopefully, the only thing I will be chasing is grades and boys...and I'll go to parties and concerts and do it all by myself. Lakewood's gonna be the best ever, and it all starts in the morning. I can't wait!