I thought I could resist making strong connections. I really didn't want to have to leave good friends again in a year. But my social side needed those connections. My human side needed those connections. In only six months, I had come really close to Timothy and Jeremiah. Then, one winter night during a young people's meeting, a new family arrived. They were the Greenwoods.
They had come from Wisconsin and they had moved here for their father's job. It was sort of a homecoming for them as they had family here. There were three children called Mark, Melissa, and Matthew. Mark was nine months younger than I, but we seemed to hit it off really quick. I'd make it a point to talk to him at the YP meetings. I had made another friend.
The friendship started very casual as the only time I hung out with Mark was on Friday nights and very briefly on Sunday mornings. I was still spending a lot of time with Timothy since he lived next door. I also began spending weekends of at Jer's house too. But then, in late July, I heard Mark's mom, Carla, make a comment about inviting me somewhere. Shortly after, Mark invited me to a sleepover for his birthday. It was an immediate yes from me.
I was expecting a standard sized birthday party crowd, but it turned out that the only people invited/and could make it were me and another young person from the church named Stephen H.(pronounced Steh-fen). Stephen was also one of the many kids I had met through the YP meetings, but I didn't know him as well yet. That all would change during the weekend.
The Greenwoods had a very nice house with a small woods and creek that ran through their back yard. The sleepover was going to take place in the woods. We started off the early evening with a little campfire and $5 Domino's pizza, a pizza for each of the three of us. Mark loved Domino's and I didn't blame him as their pizza was delicious. After we finished the pizza, Stephen went looking for something. He came back holding a very flat rock about the size of a small appetizer plate. He promptly threw it in the fire. Mark didn't say a word and my pyro knowledge was in its infant stages, so I was oblivious as to what was about to happen. We continued talking and I had completely forgotten about the ordeal. We started discussing different interests and possibly video games when BANG! The fire flared up and I nearly fell out of my chair. The sound was so loud it echoed through the woods and all the way up to the house. Mark's dad, Sid, who was relaxing on the back deck shouted "WHAT WAS THAT?!?" Stephen happily calls out "a rock!" "What did you do that for?!" Sid shouted back. "Because it was cool!" came Stephen's reply. His dad just shook his head gave a little chuckle and said not to do it again.
In that moment I learned a few things. Superheating a rock can make it explode. Fire is incredibly fascinating. And that Sid was a down-to-earth guy. In a few more hours, the sun would set, and the real fun began. With the sun gone and darkness taking over, the glow of the fire was our light. We wandered the woods hunting for toads, bugs, and any other small thing that that made noise in our vicinity. If any winged bug tried to enter camp, it met its fate with the flames. While our shenanigans were a bit nutty, we kept the fire fed, but contained.
Somewhere between 3-4am, we decided to give in to our body's cries for sleep. I was about to experience something I never had before. There was no tent. Simply a tarp on the ground, three sleeping bags, and three pillows. This was purposely planned. Looking back I realized it was a miracle we didn't get eaten alive by bugs, nor awoken by the night rodents, and the weather was calm and clear all night. We slept well under the stars that night. It was a little out of my comfort zone, but the experience reminded me of the stories from the Wild West. Cowboys would sleep in the out in the open, with nothing but the stars above. In the right climate and the right setting, it is magical.
That experience created a bigger bond between Mark and I. I began to spend more weekends over at his house. One very memorable one that comes to mind occurred on a chilly Autumn Saturday. I had spent the night and we were up really late playing video games. We didn't leave the comfort of the covers until the morning had long left our presence. We sauntered down the stairs to grab something to sate our hunger and once we had found it, we promptly went back up the stairs where we stayed the majority of the day. Those hours were wasted away on a trifecta of things that made a teenage boy feel like he was on cloud nine. We kicked thing's off by playing a brand new PC game Mark had gotten for his birthday. Sid Meir's Pirates! In my love for history, I always had an interest in the pirate realm. Now to play a game where I commanded a pirate ship and battled the likes of Henry Morgan, Captain Kidd, and even Blackbeard himself allowed hours of fun to cruise right on by. When we had enough of the games, we went to a popular website that existed long before Youtube really came on the scene; it was known as Moronland.net. The website was known for a vast collection of humorous videos. From cats being doofuses, to comedic animated skits, to the best moments that appeared on late night shows, my sides hurt by the time we had had enough. The icing on the cake was that Mark had a sizeable portion of Halloween candy left. I don't know how he kept up with me having eaten so much in the month prior, but we finished what was left in that humongous bag.
Sometimes we found chaos and other times, chaos found us. I had this habit of keeping all my graded school work in tact until the end of the year. Normally I would tear it or toss it at Summer's first light to signify the freedom that came with it. But this time, I had a different plan. As spoken of previously, Mark's family had a fire pit. I love fire. Nothing would've pleased me more then watching the sour grades go up in flames. I talked to Mark and put my plan into motion. We set the weekend and when it came time, I had loaded a garbage bag with every scrap of graded work I had kept from the school year. Sid had known what our plan was and approved, but told us to wait until he and Carla returned later that evening. Mark's grandmother, Marilyn, came over to make sure we didn't wreak havoc on the house.
Everything was running smoothly, that is until the Cheez-It incident. We had been snacking on a whole box when we heard Mark's parents come home. He leapt off the couch and started to run up the stairs. "Wait!" I shouted. "Take this with you!" I launched the box in a spiral motion. Mark's reaction was to pancake catch it. He made a great catch, but unfortunately, he caught the box upside-down and the force of his hands smacking the sides caused the top to fly open and release its contents all over the floor. We both stood there in shocked silence. Then I started laughing. Replaying the image of the exploding box over and over in my mind, I was all in fits. Once I recovered, we quickly cleaned up the mess. We then ran upstairs to find Mark's parents to get the approval to begin that night's festivities.
My heart stopped a little when Carla mentioned about getting ready for bed. "But...but we were going to burn stuff," I pleaded. Sid saw that look and knew he had promised us we could. He gave us the okay and we bolted down to the fire pit. I had my trash bag and he had his. "What are we going to start this with," I asked motioning to the pile of logs. "There's some old gas in the garage," Mark said. "I'll be back." Before I could protest, he was up the hill and back again with that all to familiar red container. "Are you sure we can use this?" I inquired. "We use this all the time for burning so it's fine," came Mark's reply. I thought we were going to use a little on some of the logs, but I watched as Mark removed the cap and then proceeded to douse the entire pile until it was soaked in gasoline. Once he had finished, the pyro in me began to awake. I grabbed the lighter, lit a single graded paper and prepared to toss it. "Careful," Mark said. "That pile's going to explode." "I got this," I said confidently. I stood about four feet away and tossed the paper. It landed on the log, but the wind had quenched the flame before it hit. I went to flip it, but Mark saw the embers on the paper. "Get a stick and flip it," he cautioned. I heeded his words and did so. The embers hit the soaked logs and the pile burst into flames. We rejoiced as the fun was about to begin.
I went into maniac mode and laughed evil laughs as I happily threw papers, tests, homework, and anything else that had caused me grief that school year into the hungry flames. I whipped them in with gusto. I made paper airplanes and launched them in. I made them kiss the flames and burn slow deaths. I couldn't think of a better way to welcome in the summer.
It wasn't long before we had burned through the majority of our stash. The fire was dying down and the flames nearly gone. My pyro side had been satisfied. But then, Mark made an unsuspecting move. He picked up that red gas can and made his way towards the embers. "What are you doing?!" I exclaimed. We have nothing left to burn." "I want to finish off the gas." I was cool with that, but wasn't prepared for what was about to happen. Mark, who had been so cautious before, threw all that out the window. He walked straight up to the edge of the pit and began to pour. The moment the fossil fuel hit the pit, the flames awoke like a demon released from hell. Mark somehow reacted quickly enough to keep his eyebrows, but he stumbled backward through the woods, dripping gas and causing mini flames to follow. I quickly ran over and began stomping ferociously trying to prevent those infamous forest fires that show up on the news every year. Mark came to his senses and helped me avert disaster. We put out all the fire spawns and surveyed the area. No major damage and the fuel in the pit was all burned up. We got very lucky. Chalk one up to surviving stupid.
After our near disaster, Mark surprised me again. I thought for sure that he'd keep our little incident under wraps. But instead, he told his dad what happened. I wasn't in the same room when he did, but he told me he had. Once again, there was no scolding, no telling us what we did wrong, but instead a knowledge that a lesson about gas and fire had been learned. And a word of caution when handling such things.
It was long after all these memorable moments that I mentioned to Jeremiah all the shenanigans Mark and I were getting into. He mentioned that his mom had said it would be a good idea to connect with him. And that's exactly what he did. Pretty soon the three of us started hanging out together. And just like that, the Trio was born. The shenanigans we were going to cause and the memories we were going to make would be of epic proportions. This would become more than just a friendship. This was a brotherhood.
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