It’s a character snapshot, but these two characters are equally important together as they are apart, so I decided to lump the snapshot together. I really enjoyed writing the relationship between these two. I really wanted to express the kind of purity of love two people could share if they had the freedom of innocence….

Mark’s beat-up Honda fishtailed around the corner of the driveway and then skidded to a stop in a cloud of dust in front of the longhouse. Trina had a white-knuckle grip on the dashboard as if she was holding on for dear life. “Why do you have to drive like a crazy person?” she shouted, but the look on her face was one of excitement rather than terror.  “Umm, because it’s fun?” he said with a chuckle. “Well, here we are. Let’s find the best cabin before anyone else calls dibs.” 

“Yeah, good call,” she said as she got out of the car and stretched her back. “This is a cool place,” she said as she looked around, taking in the layout of the place. “But geez, namaste much?” Mark chuckled at that last remark. “Yeah, he was the poster child for hippies, I guess. That’s probably why my dad and Grandad pretended he didn’t exist.” “I think you might be cut from the same cloth, honey, ya know? A long-hair dropout in a family of lawyers and doctors. You’re not gonna get rich, but I love ya,” she said softly. 

He walked over and put his hands on her tiny waist, and pulled her close to him. “That’s how I know you love me. You’re not a gold digger. He whispered in her ear, “That makes me richer than any of ’em.” 

“I think this place is making you mushy,” she whispered back. He moved closer to her ear. “It’s also making me horny.” Then he playfully swatted her butt. She pretended to be mad and started to push him away but grabbed his hand and started pulling him to the cabins. “Let’s go find us a cabin, my ‘mushy’ man,” she said and winked at him. He dared not resist as she led him down a random path. “These cabins are all in good condition. I was imagining something like sleeping in a dirty barn,” Trina said as she peered into the window of a pleasant-looking cabin. “I like this one, but I want something, ya know, a little more private.” “Anything for you, love,” he said, smiling. “Yeah, I think Uncle Frank had a lot of time on his hands and kept the place up nicely.” 

They reached the end of the path at a cabin that seemed to be the farthest from all the others. Mark walked up the few steps to the porch and opened the door. “Should I carry you over the threshold?” Trina pushed past him with a smirk. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, bucko,” she said sarcastically. 

“Well then,” he said with an exaggerated bow, “after you, m’lady,” then followed her in. 

Frank is a fan favorite, Mine too. I tend to use people I know as a template (not biograghically) for some characters. Frank is modeled after a real person….

Still lost in his thoughts and even a little excited, he must have been driving faster than he realized since he got to the hardware store in quick time. It was good, though; the evening was going by fast, and the store was about to close up for the night. He got out of his Volkswagen van and pushed open the old door of the storefront. He only got a few steps into the store when the cashier gave him an odd look. The young kid had spiky black hair and a ring in his nose. 

“Mister… you can’t come in here like that, sorry.” The young kid sounded apologetic and amused at the same time. 

“Like what?” Frank was oblivious to any reason why he should not be there. 

“Your feet, bro. You have to have shoes to come in; it’s a safety thing. Might step on a nail and sue us or something.” A smile indicating laughter was soon to follow was on the boy’s face by now. 

Frank looked down at his feet and realized that he wasn’t wearing shoes. The thick calluses on his perpetually dirty feet did not feel shoes in the summer most of the time. He was an old hippy and stuck in a time warp. Shoes were for winter when it was too cold to go without. He chuckled at himself and smiled back at the cashier.

“Sorry,” Frank said with a bit of a giggle. He was not embarrassed by his attire. Look at that kid; why should I be embarrassed by the way I dress? he thought to himself, almost laughing out loud. Nonchalantly turning around, he gave the cashier a nod goodbye and headed for the exit. He only felt a little disgruntled by the situation since it was a wasted trip. He did not have anything much to do anyway, but wasted gasoline was wasted money.