Vera Tennyson was Max and Gordon's older sister. For someone who was sixty-four, she looked surprisingly healthy, but the kids couldn't help noticing she was a little round, with kind eyes that vanished into a sea of cheerful wrinkles every time she smiled.
Not that there was anything wrong with it. If anything, it just made her look even more like the classic retired grandma.
But what truly made Ben and Rio exchange a silent look of horror the moment they saw her was the sheer amount of pink she wore.
It looked as if she had raided an entire store for every pink item they had. Each time she moved, the boys felt waves of secondhand embarrassment wash over them.
Ben elbowed Rio subtly. "Think she got a bulk discount?"
Rio replied with a grin. "Maybe pink was the only color left at the store."
"Max!" greeted Vera, already hurrying down her front steps to hug her younger brother.
"Vera!" Max grinned, meeting her halfway with a careful hug, his bandaged right arm held slightly away from her body. "You didn't have to wait outside for us."
"Nonsense! I wanted to catch you the moment you arrived!"
Apparently, she was waiting outside the home to swoop in on the group the moment they arrived.
No sooner had they stepped out of the mobile home than a warm, too-tight hug welcomed everyone.
Vera had short gray hair, reaching down to her shoulders, dangly earrings that jangled with every move, alongside a beaded necklace. She was overweight and wearing so much pink it should have its own gravitational pull.
And just like her brother Max, her love for bizarre dishes immediately announced itself as she began describing God knows what dish she had prepared for them.
And, of course, what followed after greeting Max was Vera's way of saying hello to the kids: namely, the dreaded cheek-pinching and stretching ritual.
Though it wasn't exclusive to Vera either. Across all the years Rio had spent with Max meeting various elderly relatives, it seemed to be a weird, painful tradition passed down through the generations. With Rio having endured it more times than he could count.
"I can't believe you're finally here," Vera cooed, pulling Gwen into a squeeze before subjecting her cheeks to what could only be described as quality testing.
"And look at you two! So grown up!" Ben received the same treatment; his face momentarily molded into a new shape. Then it was Rio's turn.
No one was safe.
At Rio's turn, he braced himself. "Good to see you, Aunt Vera," he managed through squished cheeks.
"Come in. come in! I can't wait to chew the fat with all of you," said Grandma Vera to Grandpa Max, visibly excited to catch up on all the time they haven't seen each other.
As they filed into the house, none of them noticed Marty still glaring from behind his blinds, watching their every move.
Inside, Grandma Vera's house looked exactly how you'd expect. White walls, floral couches that looked way too soft, and doilies covering every flat surface. Patterns were everywhere, like she'd decided retirement meant she didn't have to listen to interior design rules anymore.
Ben sniffed the air and made a face. "Why do old people's houses always smell like someone's cooking socks or something?"
Grandma Vera then suddenly turned towards them, making Ben pause. He felt she had heard his comment and was going to scold him.
But contrary to his expectations, Vera just came up to the kids with a smile and handed Gwen a slip of paper.
Ben peeked over Gwen's shoulder. "What's this?"
Grandma Vera smiled. "The wi-fi password. I'm not out of the times, you know."
-----
The reunited family sat around the dining table, each person confronted with a plate of wobbly, sinister-looking orange jelly with mysterious, unidentifiable chunks suspended inside.
Max took a bite and smiled. "Oh, Vera, this is delicious," he said, just as the kids were cautiously poking at theirs, making the whole plate's jelly jiggle threateningly.
"And what are those brown chunks in the... mold?" he continued, eating in big, fearless mouthfuls.
"Pork chops, and the white parts are cauliflower," explained Vera, clearly proud of her creation.
Both Ben and Gwen froze, their spoons halting just inches from their mouths. Anyone could practically see their internal screaming as they gulped in horror at the description of such culinary crime.
Rio, on the other hand, just shrugged mentally. He shoved a spoonful in his mouth and chewed with the blank determination of a soldier eating field rations.
Though his eyes lit up when he chewed it down, it tasted surprisingly okay for its looks.
He had already built a tolerance to these unique dishes by staying with Grandpa Max's side over the years. Most of these look odd and even make a person feel disgusted, but some of these actually turn out to be delicious.
The eternal question remained: if you can eat some normal food… umm… by normal human standards, why choose this?
Trying to lighten the mood, Vera tried engaging the kids in the talk, "So, tell me! How has your summer been so far?"
"Dealing with alien life forms," replied Ben in the most deadpan manner.
"And I'm his partner," added Rio with a straight face.
But that just made Vera laugh. "Oh, you kids and your wild imaginations," she said, clearly thinking they were just joking.
After all, which kid doesn't have the idea of being a superhero?
Gwen, probably trying to escape the conversation, started looking around the house and spotted a bunch of stuffed birds on one of the shelves.
With interest, she got up and approached the shelf to study it. Soon after, she called out, "Grandma Vera, is that a stuffed red-billed North American chickadee?"
"Ohh! How perceptive, Gwen," gasped Vera, as she stood up to approach Gwen.
"And did you know that the sound of a red-billed North American chickadee is actually...." Vera paused for just a second before Gwen joined her, and they both excitedly said at the same time.
"A call indicating alarm or excitement."
Then the two of them started chirping like the birds, which pretty much summed up how Ben felt about the jelly right now.
At the table, Ben watched them, looking utterly lost. Then a lightbulb went off, and he dumped his entire portion of jelly onto Gwen's plate.
"I am totally stuffed," he announced, patting his stomach.
But fate wasn't done with him. Vera quickly returned with a bowl filled with dark beans. "Would you like some candy, dear?"
Finally, something edible, Ben thought. "Now we're talking!" He popped one in his mouth - and immediately regretted it.
His smile instantly shattered. "Ugh! Coffee as candy? Is this some kind of joke?" he sputtered, spewing the now-bitter paste back into his hand.
-----
A while later, the strange lunch finally came to an end. Inside, Vera was showing off her collection of exotic trinkets to a fascinated Gwen, with Max occasionally adding stories from their travels. Rio and Ben, however, had made a strategic retreat.
The two had slipped outside for some fresh, non-burnt sock-scented air.
Ben kicked a pebble down the empty street. The only sound being the crunch of gravel beneath his feet, with the retirement community lying silent under the afternoon sun.
"So much for summer fun," he grumbled to no one in particular.
"Cheer up," Rio said, falling into step beside him. "At least the jelly didn't fight back."
They reached the Rust Bucket, and Ben stopped, scuffing his shoe against the dirt.
"Not coming in?" asked Rio, one hand already on the door.
"Nah." Ben shoved his hands in his pockets. "Gonna... I dunno. Walk around. See if this place has anything at all."
"Suit yourself. Don't get lost." With that, Rio disappeared inside the RV, leaving Ben alone in the oppressive quiet.
Left all alone, Ben kicked another pebble and wandered further down the street, putting distance between himself and Vera's house.
He turned a corner, and the air suddenly changed. The dry, dusty desert smell vanished, replaced by something warm, sweet, and unmistakable.
(Ben's POV)
"Fresh apple pie."
Now we're talking, I thought as my stomach growled in agreement. The smell was so good I could practically taste it. I followed that amazing scent like one of those cartoon characters floating on a cloud of pie smell, and it led me right to this little house with bright yellow curtains.
I couldn't help myself as I involuntarily crept closer to the kitchen window to peek inside.
Inside was an old lady standing there with a fly swatter, staring up at a single fly buzzing near the ceiling. She took a couple of weak swings and missed completely.
The fly buzzed even higher, like it was teasing her from the safety of the high ceiling. The old woman let out this frustrated sigh. Then she bent her knees slightly.
What happened next made my brain short-circuit.
She launched herself straight up. Her hands and feet stuck to the ceiling like a gecko's, and suddenly she was just hanging there upside down.
Before I could even process that horror movie scene, she simply opened her mouth and devoured the very fly.
Swallowing with a satisfied gulp, she dropped from the ceiling. Landing perfectly on her feet without a sound. And she did a couple of casual neck rolls like she'd just finished a light workout.
I stood there frozen at the window, then my eyes went wide.
"Oh! No way."
"Looks like this place is not so boring," I whispered to myself, before quickly ducking away from the window.
I stumbled backward, not even watching where I was going, and my heel slammed into something hard and metal—a sprinkler control box.
Click.
With a sudden hiss, a nearby sprinkler head burst to life, spraying a wide arc of cold water right where I was standing.
But my body reacted before my brain could even catch up, I instinctively launched into a perfect backflip, landing in a crouch.
landing in a perfect Spider-Man crouch, I felt a little impressed with myself.
"Well, at least that hell of a training since middle school did come in handy this time."
Just then, a low humming sound caught my attention. An old man was speeding past in a golf cart, with this big rolled-up red rug tied messily in the back.
When the sprinkler sprayed toward the road, the old man yelped and yanked the steering wheel hard. The cart wobbled dangerously on two wheels before slamming back down. He corrected it smoothly and kept going like nothing had happened.
I blinked, honestly impressed. "Okay, respect," I muttered under my breath. "That was pretty sick."