"Dean? DEAN!?"

"Yes Mum?" I answered, looking up through the stairs to the floor above.

"Do you want these mittens packing?"

"Mittens?!" blurted out Zac just before bursting out into fits of laughter. "What kind of a dumb question is that?!"

Tay twatted Zac round the head with the atlas that was sat on the table in front of us.

"Zac Hanson, IF you ever have kids of your own, you'll soon realise that these 'dumb questions' are very important to a worried parent."

"Sorry mommy," giggled Zac.

I heard my mum walk from the landing into my room, then walk back out again and proceed down the stairs, armed with my SuperSoaker.

"Run."

"Huh?"

"Better do what she says, Zac," I smiled. I had been subjected to this routine many times before.

Zac cautiously pulled his chair back and edged towards the front door.

"Five."

"Umm, Mrs. Lidster..."

"That's Fran to you. Four."

"I was just joking!"

"Not funny. Three."

"Can we talk about this?" asked Zac, getting distinctly nervous. An adult with a SuperSoaker simply didn't add up in his mind. Surely she wasn't serious...

"Too late. Two."

"Sorry?" said Zac in desperation.

"Better run... One."

My mum raised the gun to eye level and took aim. Having had many years of practice at getting me out of bed on a Sunday morning with that blasted thing, Zac would be no problem at all. He opened the door and dashed through it, a jet of water narrowly missing his head.

Problem is, my mum ain't a quitter either. In a calm, Terminator- like fashion, she walked to the door and jogged up the path after Zac.

"Will she really do it?" asked Tay.

"Oh yeah. Even if it takes her all day to catch him, he'll get it good and proper."

I turned my attention back to the map in front of me. There was Tulsa, Oklahoma. Mile upon mile of grid like streets, all intersecting at regular intervals at a near precise ninety degrees. Roads (sorry, streets) that ended in boulevard, highways with perfectly symmetrical flyovers... This street layout put our roads to shame...

The only thing that upset the geometrical precision was the Arkansas river, meandering aimlessly down the left hand side of the city, surrounded by a large band of greenery that seemed like a blissful oasis compared to the urban jungle so close to it.

It was just so different, so far away - AND WE'D BE THERE TOMORROW! It was almost unbelievable!

"You'd better believe it!" grinned Tay as if he'd just read my thoughts.

"So where do you live, then?"

"That'd bet telling!"

"TAYLOR!"

"No - not until we get there. If I told you now, I'd have to kill you!"

We heard the back door open and my mum walked through, nonchalantly handing me an empty SuperSoaker. "Taylor, Isaac: Your little brother may need a towel - would you go and fetch one for him so he doesn't drip all over my carpets."

We all looked at each other. "How wet can you get with a single SuperSoaker?" asked Ike.

"Who says it was JUST the SuperSoaker she used?" I grinned back.

The back door opened for a second time, and we all crowded from the dining room into the kitchen.

The monster from the black lagoon had just walked through the door. It was dripping light brown water in copious quantities over the tiles and came complete with pond weed accessories.

"SHE SHOT ME IN COLD BLOOD! I tried to reason with her, but she just didn't listen!"

"So what's with the vegetation?"

"I stopped in front of the pond, and when she shot me, I stepped back and, uh, fell into it..."

"Your mom rules, Dean!"

"And BE GOOD!"

"Mrs. Lidster, he'll be with me!"

"That's exactly what I'm worried about, Taylor," she smiled and, true to form, grabbed me and smacked a huge kiss on my cheek.

"MUM!"

"You love it really," She was absolutely right.

I buckled and hugged her, then hugged my dad. "I'll see you in a fortnight, then,"

"Keep in touch,"

"I will, don't worry!"

"Dean, it's in our job description! Have fun you lot!"

"We will!" Chorused Gareth, Spider and I.

"Hey, is that Kevin? KEVIN!" I yelled over the British Midland foyer. As ever, Kev looked up and loafed over to us.

"Ey Dean! They're not kidnapping you are they? You got to watch this wun," he grinned, shooting a glance at Tay.

Tay smiled and unclipped his phone from his belt, the other two Hansons doing the same and relinquishing them to Kevin.

"They don't work in the states, so Kev looks after them for us," Tay explained.

"Do you have our tickets?" I asked, realising I was stood here, ready to go, passport in hand, but had seen absolutely no evidence that we had passage booked on any flight to anywhere.

"Yeah, Kevin does."

Once again, I was gobsmacked. Kev produced from his inside pocket six white glossy ticket booklets, the word "Concorde" printed in red next to the British Airways logo. As Kev handed them out, Gareth and Spider also fell silent.

"This is a joke, right?"

"What?"

"THIS!" I said, running my finger repeatedly under the embossed lettering.

"Oh, no - we decided we'd never been on Concorde before, so now is as good a time as any!"

I was not going to argue!

Leather seats. COMFY leather seats. WIDE comfy leather seats WITH LEGROOM! This was not a plane - it was a flying Rolls Royce!

I couldn't help but grin inanely at Tay as I sunk into the capacious sofa that called itself a seat. I leaned over and kissed him.

"What was that for?"

"Just for being you," I smiled.

We somehow had managed to get an entire sixteen-seat compartment to ourselves, complete with multi-channel video suite and all the toys distinctly lacking on "standard" planes. My excitement was unbelievable and boy did it show - I couldn't sit still!

The video screens then flickered into life as the safety video began to play, and the standard issue gay steward ponsed his way to the front of our cabin, armed with an unattached seatbelt, a safety instruction card and a life jacket.

It there it is one thing that makes me laugh, it is the stereotypical gay male. Effeminate, delicate, lispy speech and an oh- so-perfect hair do. HAHAHAHAHAH!!!! I looked over at Tay, and immediately decided he was thinking the same thing. We watched, almost entranced, as he waved his hands around in a wildly exaggerated manner indicating our nearest exits and the position of the lifejackets under our seats. It was all we could do not to crack up.

The video finished and he cordially smiled at us for behaving like good little boys, and walked back down the aisle - past Zac. Bad move. Quick as a flash, he had tugged the red pull on the life jacket and with the hissing of escaping compressed air, the red life jacket inflated, the little strobe light doing its best to attract attention.

The steward stopped momentarily, uttered a feeble "huh!" and strutted off down the aisle.

"That was cruel, Zac,"

"What can I say? It needed yanking!"

"I wouldn't say that too loudly or someone may get the wrong idea!"

A look of panic flashed across Zac's face as he imagined a thirty- five year old stuard... well, we'll just leave it there...

A couple of minutes later, we taxied out onto the runway and stopped as we waited for authorisation for take off. I looked over at Tay and he seemed distinctly uncomfortable, He suddenly realised I was looking and grinned sheepishly at me.

"It doesn't matter how many times I do this," he said, "but the take-off's and landing's still scare the crap outta me..."

I reached over and took his hand in mine and squeezed it tight, him squeezing back. A second later, the engines fired up, then opened full throttle and catapulted the plane along the runway, forcing us back into the seats. Having never flown before, I was astonished by the ferocity of the acceleration, having imagined that plane just lumbered up into the air. Instead, it felt as it we had been loaded into a slingshot and quite literally thrown heavenwards. As our speed picked up, the nose suddenly lifted off the ground and the noise halved, the wheels no longer touching the runway. We were flying.

I looked out of the window and saw the East Midlands international airport rapidly vanishing beneath us. This was SERIOUSLY good fun!

"Tay? Taylor?"

"Are we flying yet?"

"Umm, yeah, you can open your eyes now!"

"PUSSY!" yelled Zac from behind us.

"SHUT UP, DILWEED!"

"Taylor's scared of fly-ing, Taylor's scared of fly-ing," chanted Zac.

"You are so fucking dead it's unfunny!"

"OOOOOOOoooooooooh! I'm really scared,"

Then the seatbelt lights went out. Tay got out of his seat, and calmly walked back to Zac.

"Shame you're not a big boy, Zac..."

"Huh?"

"If you were, this may actually hurt some!" Tay grabbed Zac's boxers and tugged them as hard upwards as he could

"ARRGH! You cunt!" yelled Zac as he tried to lever the cotton out of his arse crack.

"Champagne?" The stuard was back, pushing his little trolley in front of him. We all grabbed a glass, and Tay was just about to sip his when I stopped him.

"I saw this on a film once," I explained, and linked my arm with his. "Cheers!"

"Dean, I feel so shitty about having to ask you this, but when we're out in public, do you think we could just act like regular friends? Man I feel so guilty askin' you to do that..."

"Don't worry - as long as you make up for it at night I'm sure I can behave..."

"Oh and Dean?"

"Mmm?"

"Brace yourself."

We stepped out on to the boarding passage and began the short walk into the terminal. About half way down, the guy who was quite obviously Kevin's stateside counterpart met us. However, whereas Kevin gave you the "I'm friendly but if you even THINK of messin'" impression, this bloke looked more like the "you think it and I'll drop you where you stand. Period." type. In short, he was a man in black, complete with ray-bans and sidearm. I could've sworn I saw Chris Carter and a film crew just round the corner...

"Ike, Tay, Zac, welcome home," he droned.

"Hey Will! How's it hangin', man?"

"I am fine, thankyou. Stay close, there's already a crowed formed. Dean, Gareth, Tony - that goes for you too. You are now celebrities."

"How do..."

"Best just to do and not ask," grinned Tay. I shrugged and got next to Tay as Will turned round and strode back up the gantry. We cleared customs and were hurriedly ushered to the front exit. Parked in the red zone was a dark blue Chrysler minivan, three sides of which were surrounded by a small army of Hansonites. The moment we cleared the doors, all hell broke loose. Tay, Ike and Zac, being used to this, dived for the van leaving us three looking rather overwhelmed by the whole situation. My ears were being battered by an incessant "TAYLORILOVEYOUOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD!" from all sides and, much to my horror, I suddenly realised I was being grabbed at. Tay swooped to the rescue and dragged us into the van, isolating us from the bedlam outside with a pronounced slam of the sliding door.

"Welcome to Oklahoma," he grinned.


On to Chapter Twenty-Five

Back to Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Index

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Email the Author - dean@meta4.org

The Exchange is © 1999 by Dean Lidster. This work may not be duplicated in any form (physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise) without the author's written permission. All applicable copyright laws apply. All individuals depicted are fictional with any resemblance to real persons being purely coincidental.

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