I’ve been experimenting with some of the minor characters in my WIP, and today I decided to work with my mentor character and her ship, Dylan. Bay is 11, and Dylan is 12. And of course, this entire thing is her idea. And yes, I have rolled down a hill in a barrel.
***
“Bay, this is a bad idea.” Dylan, always the voice of reason, tramped behind her up the hill with more than a little reluctance.
“You say that about everything.” She huffed, pushing the white plastic barrel in front of her over a lump in the hill. “Besides, we have helmets.”
“Oh, that makes it so much better.” He rolled his eyes. “There’s a pond at the foot of this hill!”
“So we don’t aim the barrel there.” She shoved it once more, and then they were on top of the hill. “Come on, Dylan. How many times in your life do you have the opportunity to roll down a hill in a barrel?”
“Where did you even get a barrel?” He eyed the 50 gallon plastic drum. “It… smells like vanilla.”
“That’s what used to be in it.” She patted the barrel. “And they were throwing them out, so I took one.”
“How did you get across the city with a barrel without anyone asking questions?” He sputtered.
“Look, it doesn’t matter how I got it. We have it now. And if you’re too chicken, then I guess I’ll have to roll down all by myself.” She held out her hand. “Helmet, please.”
He shook his head, but he gave it to her. She buckled it tightly, then crawled inside the barrel. “Would you mind giving it a tiny shove? I need to get the momentum going.”
“If you get your brains knocked out, I’ll say I’ll told you so.” He shoved the barrel, hard.
She squealed as the barrel rolled, gaining speed. The world was an entire blur, and she flumped around inside like clothes in a dryer. It came to a stop at the level rise near the bottom of the hill, and she flew out, giggling hysterically.
“That was awesome!” She stood up, spinning with the vertigo. “I’m going to do it again!”
Dylan shook his head, pushing his hands into his hoodie pockets. “Okay, so you didn’t get hurt the first time. Beginners luck. You’re going to get hurt a second time.”
“Watch me.” She pushed the barrel back up the hill. She grinned. “It’s really fun, Dyl. Stop being a wuss.”
“I’m just going to watch.” He shrugged nonchalantly, but she caught the curiosity flickering in his gray eyes.
She smirked. “Okay.”
She crawled inside the barrel again, and once again, she was flying down the hill. Her body slammed against the sides of the barrel with a force that she knew would bruise later, but she didn’t care. The barrel whumped to a stop, and she crawled out and lay spread-eagled across the grass, laughing.
“Come on, Dylan.” She looked back up at the whirling hill. “You know you want to try it.”
He hesitated, then walked down the hill. “Okay, one time. Just one.”
She jumped up, grinning. “That’s all I ask.”
He pushed the barrel up the hill, then buckled on the helmet and hesitantly climbed in at the launch point. “Don’t push it too hard.” He muttered.
“You need to have some adventure. But if you want to get up to speed… fine.” She barely nudged the barrel, and it began to tumble down the hill. Dylan whooped, enjoying himself as Bay knew he would.
Then, the barrel shifted, jumping over a lump in the hill and changing course— heading straight toward the pond.
Oh snap. Bay ran down the hill, almost losing her balance and tumbling down herself. “Dylan! Bail out! BAIL OUT!”
“Wha-at-at?” His voice dipped in and out as the dizziness spun him into confusion. “I thi-ink I’m gon-na be si-ck-ck…”
“THE BARREL IS HEADING TOWARD THE POND!” She wasn’t going to make it before it fell in… she wasn’t fast enough…
“The bar-ar-rel is wha-ah-at?” At that moment, the barrel hit a rock, shooting into the air with impressive speed before it splashed into the pond. A small tidal wave swamped the reeds at the edge
“Dylan!!” Bay rushed to the edge of the pond, trying to see where he was. He bobbed to the surface, soaking wet and glaring.
“Bay!” He sputtered, gasping for air. “You should have warned me!”
“I tried. The barrel hit a lump.” She held out her hand and he took it, struggling to shore.
“I’m soaking wet.” He growled. “And this hoodie is new.”
She stared at him for a while, then they both burst into laughter, flopping out onto the grass.
“That was insane! You were going at like a million miles per minute.” Bay exclaimed.
“It was fun.” Dylan admitted. “Except for the whole swimming part.” He sat up, serious. “But we are never doing that again.”
She huffed. “Well, we can’t anyway. That was my only barrel.”