Of Mice and Adolescents

Laura Nelson’s nerves were beginning to fray. She’d had to re-arrange her whole morning when school was dismissed early because of snow, and driving in it now was making her more nervous by the minute. With her left hand on the steering wheel, her right hand went to the hair behind her ear and she began twirling a long, blonde section around her index finger. She had tried repeatedly over the years to break the habit, but when she was anxious or upset – like now – the action was both unconscious and automatic.

In most northern cities, a few inches of snow would not be cause for alarm, but in the Texas hill-country north of San Antonio, people didn’t know how to drive in such conditions, so it warranted more than a little caution.

The excited chatter of her children was not helping either. Her 11-year-old daughter, Tori, had only seen snow twice before, and she was nearly as wound up as her seven-year-old brother, Justin, who was seeing it for the first time. The two of them had not stopped talking since Laura picked them up from school, and every loud, excited exclamation was pushing her closer to the edge. She was at least grateful to be driving her husband’s truck instead of her little sedan.

Good Ol’ Bart, Laura thought, and she subconsciously rubbed the truck’s dash to show her appreciation. BART. That’s what her husband had named his Ford F250. Big-Ass Red Truck. And it was a fitting name; the truck was enormous. Laura always felt like a little girl in a battle tank when she drove Bart.

For just a moment, Laura considered forgetting all about her errand and just heading straight home to their small ranch, but as her thoughts wandered back to the previous night, she knew she couldn’t do that. Last night, Laura had proved to her children that she could freak out with the best of them, and in retrospect, she was a little embarrassed by it. More importantly, she wasn’t sure she could guarantee it wouldn’t happen again, so the errand was necessary.

“I want both of you to wait in the truck,” she said as she drove the remaining mile to Johnny’s Feed & Supply. Justin immediately began to protest, and Laura held up her hand for silence.

“Look,” she said wearily, “I know you like to go in there, but I can get in and out a lot faster alone. Please don’t give me a hard time about this today, okay?”

“It’s not fair,” Justin groused, poking out his bottom lip.

“Don’t be a baby,” Tori scolded. “Mom’s right. We need to get home or we’re liable to get stuck in the snow.”

Justin stuck out his tongue. “You aren’t the boss of me!”

“Actually….” Mom cut in, pulling to a stop in front of the feed store, “she is. At least, until I get back. Justin, don’t give your sister grief. Tori…..be nice. Please?”

Without waiting for an answer, Laura slammed the door and rushed into the feed store.

“I hope she hurries,” Justin grumbled. “She didn’t even leave the heater going.”

Inside the store, Ben Tyler was grinning from ear to ear. The high-school senior had long harbored a crush on Laura, and his acne-prone face lit up like a Christmas tree when he saw her walk in.

“Well, howdy, Mizz Nelson! What can I do for you today?” Ben’s slow drawl had a way of making “well” sound like a two-syllable word. As he spoke, he tipped the brim of his felt Stetson. Looking into Laura’s blue eyes, Ben felt his heart begin to race a little.

“Hi, Ben. I have a little problem and I need your help.”

How many times had Ben dreamed of hearing those words? Ok, so actually, it was just “I need you” that he had dreamed she would say, but this was close enough. Ben could almost hear the planets aligning, setting him up to finally impress Laura and win her affection.

“Well, I’ll tell you, Mizz Nelson,” he said self-importantly, looping a thumb through the belt-loop of his starched wranglers, “You’ve come to the right place! I’ll getcha squared away in no time. Just tell me whatcha need.”

“We have an unwanted visitor in the house. A mouse. I called Tay Draeger, but he’s down in Houston picking up some new equipment and won’t be back until tomorrow night.”

Ben made a mental note to thank the town’s only exterminator for giving him this golden opportunity.

“Don’tcha worry, Mizz Nelson, I know just whatcha need. Follow me!” With that, Ben set off at a fast clip to aisle four.

“I don’t know why it is that these things only happen when Greg is out of town,” Laura mumbled on the way. Ben felt a moment’s irritation at the mention of Laura’s husband, but in his adolescent fantasy, it only made things better. After all, Greg wasn’t there to help her in her hour of need. Ben was.

The leather soles of his Lucchese boots slid as he came to a sudden stop, and he almost passed up the section he was looking for. He took a small step back and quickly scooped three items from the shelf and turned to face Laura. He had her full attention now, which set his teen-age hormones raging and led to his first mistake: believing that if he impressed her, he might actually have a shot.

“You’ve got several options here,” he began. You can use these ol’-timie spring-traps, or you can set out these poison bait pellets…but I recommend these sticky traps,” and he handed her a box of the suggested product.

“I don’t know,” Laura said, furrowing her brow as she turned the box over to read the back. “How exactly do these work?”

He walked her back to the front counter, removed his Stetson in an effort to appear suave, then opened one of the boxes to demonstrate. That was his second mistake.

“You see,” he began enthusiastically, warming to his presentation, “you peel off this cov’rin’, and place it in a spot where the mouse might walk by…”

In the course of showing her how it worked, he managed to get the glue-board stuck to his thumb. He tried to play it cool and hide the mishap, but little dots of red burned high on his cheeks. In what he hoped was a nonchalant manner, he grabbed hold with the other hand and gave the trap a sharp tug.

That proved to be his third mistake.

With both hands now stuck to the trap, there was no hiding the building disaster, and Ben’s large ears practically glowed with embarrassment. He could almost hear the planets laughing at him now, nowhere near a position of alignment, and his renewed efforts born of desperation only made things worse. In another minute’s time, he not only had both hands covered in the thick goo, but had also picked up an array of miscellaneous debris from behind the counter: paper clips, a receipt, an m&m, three screws and a ball-point pen.

Every time he managed to free one hand, the trap ended up on the other, along with even more debris, and before long, he no longer cared about impressing Laura…which was ironic, considering she was beginning to think his recommendation had merit after all.

It was then that the young clerk made his worst and final mistake: in his frustration, he tried to run his free hand through his hair. A split second too late he realized the blunder, but his hand was already stuck fast. Laura was unable to control the bark of laughter that erupted, and she quickly slapped a hand over her mouth to clamp it off.

Disbelief, horror and self-loathing struggled for supremacy on Ben’s face, and he closed his eyes as though to will the whole episode away.

“Just take whatcha want and go,” he told Laura without opening his eyes. “You can settle up with Johnny next week.”

“Are you sure there isn’t something I can do to help?”

“Just go!” he snapped.

Embarrassed for the poor boy, Laura made no further objection. She retraced her steps and quickly scooped up every box of sticky traps they had. In truth, she wanted more than the three boxes that were on the shelf, but she was pretty sure Ben would not appreciate it if she asked him to go check the store-room for more. Settling for the three, Laura took the boxes and hurried out to wage her full-scale rodent-war.

“What’s wrong with Ben,” Tori asked when Laura got back in the truck. “He’s usually happy as a puppy when you come in.”

Laura glanced back inside and decided to spare him further humiliation.

“I think he’s worried about the weather.”