The Peanut Scramble

 

“Peanuts.”

“What?”
The screen door clapped shut.
“In the yard.”
She stopped mixing the tuna.  “Salted?”
“In the shell, scattered.”
“Oh.”  Her eyes dropped to the mat by the door, the big red shoes sat there, looking innocent.
Gary slid onto a kitchen chair, tossed his cap onto the table, wiped the back of his hand across his forehead.  “That was always my favourite part.”
Karen laid out some slices of bread.  “Favourite part?”
“At the company’s family picnics dad would take us to, or the Victoria Day picnics the city would hold at Lake Ontario Park.  The peanut scramble was my favourite.  Herbie the Hobo would suddenly appear, and all the kids would be trailing after him.  He tossed them right at me once. That and sandcastles.” 
“The clown threw sand?”  
“No. Near the water’s edge, you’d dig a moat around your castle and water would seep in from below and fill it.  And fireworks, of course.”
She took some sprouts from the fridge.
“I guess they’re illegal now,” he said.
“Fireworks are dangerous.  Avocado?”
“Sure.  I mean peanuts.  Completely toxic to almost every kid born in this century.  Lawsuits.  Eat a peanut butter sandwich upwind of someone, could ruin your life.  Nowadays they get balloon sculptures.  Much safer, no sharp edges.  Everyone loves a foam playground.  Someone’s kid will be traumatized by a balloon bursting in their face and those will be outlawed too.”
“Mmm.  Pickle?”
“Please.”  The foam nose with its slack elastic band moped on a coat hook.  He shifted his gaze through the screen door.  A squirrel came bounding into the yard, stopping to twitch its tail.  “Danger was part of the thrill,” he said.  “Things could get blown up.  When did fireworks turn into pyrotechnical displays?  International teams of professionals, synchronized music.  I bet most of those guys are blind in one eye and missing two fingers.”
Karen leaned into the fridge again.  “Cheese?”
Gary nodded.  “I guess that dog tugging at the Coppertone girl’s bikini bottom is creepy now.”
“I blame the Internet.  You want to go and collect the peanuts, or do you want to eat first?”
Two squirrels were now working the yard, stuffing their cheeks and hopping off to hide peanuts in the flowerbed, under the foliage.
“The squirrels have it covered, let’s eat.”

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