How to Make a Human

"Oma… I don't think you can legally take Demetri out of school," I told my Oma meekly as she dragged Demetri and I to her car.

"Oh really? Just watch me!"

"I'm watching you," I sighed. "And it's still not legal."

"Mrs. Heising, I can just go back to class," Demetri hedged, inching away from my Oma slightly.

"So that you can get sent to the principal's office again?" Oma sighed, "Demetri, we will call your mother and have her call you in absent, would that put your worrisome mind at ease?"

"Sure, I guess, but it's almost lunch anyway--"

"Perfect! I hope you like lasagna, I was making it before I got the phone call," Oma tittered, once again dragging us to her car. I shrugged to Demetri who was looking at me pleadingly. Hell, if he wanted to fight about staying at school with an elderly German woman, I wasn't going to stop him, but I definitely didn't plan on helping him either.

Demetri and I piled into the old Volvo, hanging on for dear life as Oma once again proved that old people shouldn't be allowed to drive. When she pulled into our driveway, romping the curb and shredding an inch of our grass, we saw Opa filling up a large, black, plastic pond with water and waving jollily.

"I've almost finished with the pond!" Opa cried happily.

I stepped out of the car with shaky legs (a familiar feeling, having driven with Oma a lot) and glanced at his pond.

"Weren't you supposed to put it in the ground before you filled it up?" I asked, gesturing to the giant hole in the ground where the pond was supposed to be. Opa glanced from the mostly filled black pond, and the hole in the ground.

"Scheiße[1], Miriam! Why didn't you tell me?" Opa screeched angrily.

Oma waved her hand in the air in a flippant manner, "I hadn't noticed."

"What a waste," he mumbled dejectedly, peering up at the sky. "It looks like rain. Do you think I could just let the rain fill up my pond?"

"I don't think that would work," I answered, following Oma into the house.

"Well, I can't just lift the pond into the hole in the ground!" Opa cried frantically.

"I could try and help," Demetri offered while I rolled my eyes at how much of a suck-up he was. Sure, I sucked up, but-- well, never mind. I guess I'm not much better.

"Great! Bobbie! You can help us, too!" Opa proclaimed, waving me over.

I groaned loudly and crossed my arms, "Opa! Do I have to?"

"Yes, obviously. Now get over here before it starts to rain."

I dragged my feet over to the black pond and grabbed a side like Opa and Demetri were doing. "Okay, on the count of three--" Opa started. "One, two, three!"

We all lifted with all the strength we had (which only got the pond about an inch or two off the ground) and shimmied towards the hole in the ground. We only made it a couple of feet before we had to set it down.

"I'm too old for this," Opa sighed, rubbing his back and walking towards the house.

"Opa!" I bellowed, looking down at the red lines on my fingers, "Where are you going?"

"Inside, clearly. I figure you two can take it from here."

"What? You didn't do anything!" I whined. My fingers hurt from the plastic digging into them.

"I'm old, Bobbie. I do lots of things." And then he went inside to flirt with Oma.

Demetri looked at me and bent down to pick up the pond again, "Ready?"

"You're not serious, are you?"

Demetri stood up straight and fixed me with a glare. "Your Oma just pulled us out of school for the rest of the day and told off the principal. I think the least we can do is straighten out her stupid pond."

I rolled my eyes but grabbed the edge of the pond, "Ready?"

We both heaved, but we could only move the pond another couple of feet. I kicked the grass sulkily.

"It was raining earlier," I pointed out.

"Yeah, well, welcome to Rhode Island."

"And now the grass is wet," I continued. "Can't we just push the pond? With the grass wet it should slide right along."

"And so should we."

"Fine," I huffed.

Demetri rolled his eyes, "It's not that that's an entirely bad idea, but it will be slippery for us too."

"I think we can handle it," I said arrogantly. The only reason I was so cocky about my stupid idea is because I wasn't actually listening to Demetri's warning.

Demetri shrugged, "Whatever."

We both took a place on the same side of the pond and began pushing. It was harder then I expected, with the pond only coming to my knees and my feet continually sliding backwards, but the pond was moving. I readjusted myself so that I was closer to the ground and could push harder. It kind of looked like I was doing a push-up.

"You're not going to be able to keep your balance like that," Demetri told me, but I ignored him and pushed onward. The pond was nearing the hole in the ground where there was no longer grass but some drying mud. Once the pond slipped onto the mud, the pond would no longer move, so I gave it one last mighty shove and snorted deeply as my feet slid out from underneath me and I landed on my stomach on the wet, spongy grass.

"Oof," I groaned and rolled over on my back to face Demetri who was shaking his head and chortling.

"I told you," he bragged, holding a hand out to help me. I took his hand and smirked sneakily as I gave tug and forced him to fall down as well. Or tried to anyway. I gave a pull, my hand popped, Demetri didn't fall and laughed, "Like I didn't see that one coming!"

I grunted and pushed myself off of the wet ground the old fashioned way, examining my grass stained shirt. "Damn."

"Anyway," Demetri said, getting back to business. "We're going to have to lower the pond into the hole, so after school I'll get Shane to help."

"And Ben!" I shouted excitedly. "Ben can help too! He's crazy strong!"

"Okay, sure. And Ben can help too. And you can… cheer us on."

"Jesus Demetri, be more sexist."

"Pfft. Gender has nothing to do with it. You have virtually no arm strength."

I shrugged and shook my head. He was actually right. Both Oma and Mae Beth could beat me arm wrestling. I'm practically made of paper.

"Let's go get some lasagna," I mumbled, slouching to my house.

In the kitchen Oma was cutting a pan of fresh lasagna into cubes and chatting lively with Opa, who was slurping whisky. I love old alcoholics.

"--stupidest man ever. He says, 'That's no way to talk about my son!' " Oma mocked, "I wasn't talking about his fat son, I was congratulating the young man who punched him."

"It's selfish to assume we care about his son," Opa agreed, shaking his head.

"Oh, Demetri!" Oma greeted, scooping a piece of lasagna onto a plate for him, "What's your mother's number? I need to call her."

Demetri and Oma exchanged words for a moment before Demetri joined Opa and me in eating lasagna. We ate in silence, a statement to how close Demetri and I really were, and listened to my Oma chatting merrily with Demetri's mom.

Lunch passed awkwardly, so for lack of something better to do, we watched old Disney movies while it drizzled lightly outside.

"Jesus, I watch Peter Pan in a new, more knowledgeable light, and now I see how racist it is," Demetri mumbled.

"Racist?" I echoed. "How so?"

"The song Why is the Red Man Red?" Demetri stated like it was the most obvious thing.

"Yeah?"

"Well, it's--" he paused when his cell phone began ringing loudly, "Hold on. Hello?"

I heard mumbling on the other side of the phone and glanced at the clock. "Shit Demetri! It's three! We have to meet Ben and pick up Mae Beth!"

Demetri held up a finger to silence me for a minute. "Calm the hell down. Why are you so hyper? Yeah. Well, we're on our way. We'll see you in a minute. Bye."

"Who was that?"

"Shane," he answered, putting his phone in his pocket. "Let's go. We can get to school in about five minutes if we take the bus."

"Okay," I answered uncertainly.

"At the school we'll pick up my car and I'll drive you, Ben, Mae Beth, and Shane home. Sound good?"

"Alright," I answered lamely. I didn't feel like arguing. "Oma! We're going to go pick up Mae and Ben!" I called.

"Alright!" she hollered back. "And don't yell in the house!"

Hypocrite. "Alright!"

"I said don't yell!"

"Okay! Bye!" I shouted back , hustling out of the house with Demetri before she could say anything about it.

"Which way to the bus stop?"

Demetri rolled his eyes and started walking to the right, so I followed quietly behind him, mumbling to myself what I didn't have the guts to say loudly enough for him to hear.

The bus ride there was about as uneventful as every birthday I've ever had, but the dull moment was worth it in the long run. We trekked through the damp grass to the front of school where I was supposed to meet Ben.

"Shane, it's not a horse," Ben was pacifying, cautiously approaching Shane, who was on the back rest part of a bench, hugging it with his legs and his arms.

"I'm Pocahontassssss," Shane replied, stroking the bench whimsically.

"I know. I know you're Pocahontas," Ben agreed.

"Fuck you, man. I'm John Fucking Smith."

"Uh, hi," I greeted lamely, taking a stance next to Ben. "What's going on?"

"I don't know!" Ben cried, "Bobbie, what's wrong with your friend?"

"Dude, what the hell?" Demetri rushed towards Shane, (who was now nuzzling the bench so affectionately I thought it was his lover) sounding slightly panicky. Shane tightened his grip and swatted at Demetri shouting, "No! Leave me alone, Lunchbox!!"

"Lunchbox? Dude, what are you--" Demetri's eyes widened with realization. "Shit! You were with Marco!"

"POLO!" Shane screeched.

"Shane," Demetri began smoothly, "Did you have lunch with Marco today?"

"There's no one named Shane heeeere." Shane's voice was ridiculously high and exaggerated.

There was an odd silence before Demetri turned to Ben and I, looking mighty pissed.

"What?" I asked defensively.

"Bobbie, you talk to him," Demetri commanded grumpily.

"What? Why?"

"Because ass-tard over there is afraid of Ben and won't talk to me," he grumbled bitterly.

"O…kay. Why?"

"Jesus, Bobbie, I don't know. Just ask him what and who he had lunch with."

"Fine, jeez." I stumbled towards Shane who was looking at me in a paranoid fashion.

"Hi, Shane."

"Herro, wittle mermaid." He wheezed out a laugh at his own hilarious humor.

"Hi…" I repeated, for lack of something better to say.

"Here to grant an old, grimy sailor a final wish?"

"Um… no."

"Go away," Shane pouted, turning away from me.

"I mean yes. Yes, I'm here to grant your wish."

"Oh really?" he asked, sitting up on the bench and leaning towards me until our noses were barely an inch away.

"Yes?"

"Perfect! I wish for a small grape with The Jonas Brothers printed on it."

"What did you have for lunch?"

"I want my grape!"

"But you wished to tell me what you had for lunch," I told him sagely.

"I did?"

"You did." I gave a wise nod.

He grinned, “Olive, you are pretty sneaky.”

“I am indeed.”

"Oh. Alright. Today I had lunch with--" he took a massive breath of air, "Marco Pontlon. He gave me brownies."

"Shit," Demetri cursed in the background. "Ask him what else he ate."

"Uh, Shane--"

"That's not my name!"

"Um… Sailor?"

"Prince Eric."

"Uh, okay. Prince Eric, what else did you eat for lunch?"

"Well, after brownies, I call them broooonies, Marco gave me a red bull. Or three. Or four. A couple of red bulls. I think. And some cute little vitamins. Like Flintstones, minus the characters and plus little Z's. Also shrooms. And then some Riddilen--"

"What?" I screeched, "Like for A.D.D? Do you know what that shit will do to you if you don't have A.D.D?"

"Mixed with magic brownies, energy drinks, shrooms, and what I'm guessing to be ecstasy?" Demetri mumbled from behind me. "I'm guessing he'd be pretty fucked up."

"Shit! Are you serious?" Ben asked, panic taking over him. "That could kill him!"

"Nah. Obviously he didn't have excess amounts of any of them, otherwise he'd be really messed up right now," Demetri said wisely.

"Messed up? You mean like he is right now?" Ben gurgled incoherently.

Shane giggled from the bench, "I just farted."

"Yeah, he's a bit off right now, but if he was about to OD, I think we'd know. Plus, Marco may be a tool, but he wouldn't go as far as to kill Shane. The kid knows his shit. He's more of an expert on drugs then any of your proclaimed scientists. Shane'll be fine. We just need to get some food in his stomach."

"That's it?" I asked.

"Well, that and wait around for a couple of hours for it to wear off."

"What?" Ben asked, shocked.

"Yeah, I think with all the things he has in his system right now it should take at least four of five hours to clear out of his system entirely. It should probably take about two to four hours before we can safely leave him by himself."

"How do you know all of this?" I asked Demetri, truly in awe.

He shrugged, "I guess I listened in health."

"Wow," I breathed, impressed by how easily he could absorb information.

"I'm kidding, Bobbie. I've been texting Marco since we got here."

"Oh."

Ben shuffled toward me, "I can't believe these people are the friends you made."

"Well, not Demetri."

"He's not the one I'm impressed with. Shane takes drugs like a fucking walrus."