Staycation on a Trampoline

“Now this is new,” Mom said as she walked around the tent. “I've heard of yurts and teepees, but a trampoline tent?”

The tent was built on top of a trampoline, with metal support bars at each corner, meeting in the center above the tent. It would've needed better insulation if it had been winter, but thankfully it was only early Autumn. The walls were opaque enough to provide privacy to those inside the tent. A short, inflated ladder led up to the tent's entrance.

“It's something new that I learned about online,” I said. “Do you want to see the inside?”

She nodded.

I climbed the short ladder, unzipped the tent's entrance, and pulled it aside. The inside already included four down-filled sleeping bags, with one pillow each. I sat down as Mom followed me in, staying on her hands and knees.

“In case it rains, there's a waterproof roof on top,” I said, pointing upward.

“And the floor's a bit bouncy,” she said, pushing against the trampoline.

“Kind of like the springs in a bed mattress,” I said.

“Kind of,” she said. “But what about electricity? Flashlights, battery-powered lamps, and batteries. That sort of thing.”

I showed her the flashlight, small lamp, and two long, narrow packs of batteries – C-size and D-size – next to each pillow. “Not a lot of light, but enough to see by and read by.”

“I'm impressed, Tom,” she said. “Really I am. When you initially said you wanted to try some backyard camping, I could only think of two things: Either a pup tent, big enough for you and your sister, or glamping, where you'd have the equivalent of a family room inside a tent, complete with TV, laptops, and so on.”

“We thought something in between, but leaning toward the simpler way, might be a better idea,” I said.

“We?” she repeated, looking curious. “So this wasn't just your idea.”

I shook my head. “I did some research online, then showed Dad and Wendy. Then we had a long discussion about it. This was all while you were at work two Saturdays ago. Dad wanted to make sure that we were serious about it before he approved the purchase from R.E.I.'s website.”

She looked at me. “And you think you'll get enough use out of it to merit the purchase cost?”

I nodded. “In fact, since it's the weekend, we were thinking of doing the first camp-out tonight. You can join us, Mom. I mean, if you want to.”

“Is that why everything's set up like this?” she asked. “Not just to show me?”

I nodded again.

“Let me think about it, Tom,” she said. “Dinner first, though. I usually think better on a full stomach.”

There was about half an hour before dinnertime. Dad spent it in his home office and I spent it my bedroom. I wasn't sure where my sister was. Probably in her bedroom.

I lay on my stomach on my bed, wondering whether it would make sense to bring any books or comic books or magazines to the tent. Had I been sleeping in it alone or with Wendy, I probably would've brought them. But it seemed a bit rude to bring them if all four of us were going to be in the tent.

Wait and see what Mom decides to do first, I thought. And check the weather forecast. You don't want to be caught unprepared.

I grabbed my laptop, clicked on my favorite browser, and went to a weather website. Temps should be comfortable tonight, if a bit on the cool side. There was a chance of scattered showers. Even if they came through, we probably wouldn't get much rain. But bring an umbrella to the tent anyway. Just in case. I closed my laptop and put it aside.

Someone knocked on my bedroom door. “Tom? It's Wendy. Can I come in?”

“Sure,” I said.

She opened the door, looked around before stepping inside my bedroom.

“Don't worry,” I said. “No bucket of water above the doorway. No spring-loaded fake snakes.”

Wendy made a face. “Sometimes I wonder if you're ever serious.”

“Or would you rather be surprised?” I asked.

“Yes – as long as it isn't a practical joke,” she said. She turned my desk chair around, pointing it at my bed, and sat down in it. “I wondered if there was anything extra I should bring with me to the tent tonight. Or just do without until tomorrow morning?”

“I was actually thinking of bringing something to read, but I'm not so sure that that's a good idea,” I said. “Not if it's all four of us.”

Her dark eyes lit up. “You mean Mom said she was joining us?”

I shook my head. “She hasn't said 'yes' or 'no' yet. She wants to wait until after dinner.”

Wendy sighed. “I hope she will. It would be fun to do something together, all four of us, when it's not a birthday or holiday.”

“She did seem to like the tent,” I said.

She shrugged. “Better than nothing, I guess.” She reached up and briefly played with her curly red hair. Wendy sometimes did that when she was thinking hard. “Did you check the weather reports?”

I nodded. “Cool temperatures. Possible scattered showers. Nothing to worry about.”

“Oh good,” she said. “Pajamas or nightie?”

“I don't think I'd look like much in a nightie,” I said.

Wendy giggled. “I meant for me, silly. Not for you.”

“Oh,” I said. “Either one.”

“Pajamas probably,” she said. “They're warmer.”

Mom interrupted, calling upstairs to let us know that dinner was ready.

After dinner, which was even more delicious than usual, instead of dispersing as we usually did, we stayed at the table.

“Have you decided, dear?” Dad asked Mom. “Or maybe not this time?”

“Well, I haven't been camping since I was in college,” she said. “Some things have changed quite a bit in the meantime.”

“Such as?” he asked.

“Until today, I'd never seen a tent on top of a trampoline,” she said. “That should make sleeping rather interesting, if a bit on the bouncy side.”

“But otherwise not a big issue?” he asked.

Mom nodded, and looked at him, then at Wendy and me. She smiled. “All right. I'm in. Do I need anything besides something warm to wear?”

“I don't think so,” I said. “I'm going to wear my pajamas, and Wendy's going to wear hers. I'm bringing an umbrella, just in case it does rain.”

“Maybe we all should,” Dad suggested.

“Good idea,” Mom said. “The umbrellas are in the hall closet.”

We were about to stand up and clear the table when we saw the flash through the living room windows. About ten seconds later, we heard the rumble of thunder and the crash of lightning. Close, but not too close.

“Just dump everything in the sink,” Mom said. “Get changed and meet me at the back door.”

Dad, Wendy, and I nodded, and hurried upstairs. As we did so, we heard another rumble and crash. This time it was a little closer.

When we were dressed and ready, we met at the backdoor. Mom came downstairs in her pajamas.

“I feel like I'm a den mother or squad leader,” she said. “All right, troops. Get ready – get set – and –”

This time the house shook. Nothing seemed to be damaged at first. But then the lights went out. They stayed out, rather than coming back on again. Thunder rumbled and rain began to fall. Hard.

“Any second thoughts?” Mom asked the rest of us. “We could just stay inside and do this tomorrow night.”

“No way,” I said. “I still want to go camping, even if I get soaked.”

“Same here,” Wendy said, and Dad echoed her.

“All right, then – watch your step, and try to stay out of puddles,” Mom advised as we quickly exited the house, umbrellas open and held above our heads.

In the dark, as we ran, we could hear the pouring rain on our umbrellas and feel some of the rain on our faces. But we could barely see where the puddles were. There was a shadowy mass where the trampoline and tent should be. It just seemed a lot further away in the dark than it had in the daylight before dinnertime.

Wendy climbed up the ladder to the tent's entrance first. I followed her, then Mom, and finally Dad. Dad zipped the entrance closed. There was the steady thrumming of rain on the waterproof cover protecting the top of the tenth.

The rain fell heavier and sometimes I thought I could feel droplets that somehow got inside the tent. But when I checked my face and arms, they were dry.

Just my imagination, I thought. Nothing to worry about.

We got into our respective sleeping bags, and lay, looking up at the tent's ceiling.

“Anyone have any suggestions of what to do now?” Mom wondered.

“We could just lie here and listen to the rain,” Dad suggested.

“Or maybe play a game?” I asked.

“We didn't bring any with us,” he said.

“Not a board game or card game,” I said.

“What did you have in mind?” he asked.

“Remember when we were little, and you taught us that geography game?” I said.

I couldn't see his face, but I can imagine his brows furrowing as he tried to remember what I was referring to.

“Oh,” he said finally. “The game we played when were on road trips.”

“Right,” I said. “Any river, national park, town, city, state, country, or continent is allowed. The second person has to start theirs with the last letter of the first person's choice. And so on.”

“You have a good memory, Tom,” he said. “We haven't played that in several years. Not since the last time we went to see your grandparents. Your mother's parents, I mean.”

“Could we try it?” I asked.

“As long as everyone wants to, I'm okay with it,” he said.

“Sure,” Wendy said and Mom echoed her.

“So – who wants to go first?” he asked.

“I'll go first,” Wendy said. “Kentucky.”

“I'll go next,” Dad said. “Yellowstone.”

“I'll go next,” Mom said. “E? England.”

“And I'll go last,” I said. “Dayton.”

“North Dakota,” Wendy said.

“Albuquerque,” Dad said.

“E again?” Mom said and laughed. “All right. Ethiopia.”

“Afghanistan,” I said.

And so the game went for the next hour or so, with the rain's accompaniment. Occasionally joined by flashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder. But we stayed dry and warm.

When we decided that we'd had enough of that game, we brainstormed, trying to see what we could do next.

It was interrupted by Wendy needing to use the bathroom. Mom agreed to go with her. They found their flashlights and turned them on. Mom unzipped the tent's entrance and they quickly exited from it, since it was still raining. Dad and I heard them running across the yard, the backdoor opening, and then closing again. As they did so, Dad got out of his sleeping bag and quickly zipped the tent's entrance shut.

“How about you?” Dad asked me, getting back into his sleeping bag.

I shook my head. “I'm fine.”

“What do you want to do while we're waiting for them to return?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Maybe do some easy math? Squaring, cubes, and fourths? We haven't done that in a long time.”

“True,” he said with a soft laugh. “Maybe I shouldn't spend so much time in my home office after I get home from work. But there are things that need to be done that I can't do at work or in bed. So I get them done between work and dinner instead. You'll understand when you're older, Tom. When you have a home of your own, a regular paycheck, and bills to pay. But, for now, enjoy being a kid.”

“I understand,” I said. “Shall I start first?”

“Go for it,” Dad said.

“Cube: 30 times 30 is 900 times 30 is 27,000,” I said.

“Oh ho!” he said, pleasantly surprised. “Not starting with the easy ones.”

I shook my head. “Your turn.”

“40 times 40 is 1600 times 40 is 64,000,” he said. “Your turn.”

“51 times 51 is 2,601 times 51 is … um … uh ... 132,651,” I said. “Maybe we should stick with smaller numbers from here on. Your turn.”

“All right,” he said. “25 times 25 is 625 times 25 is 15,625,” he said. “Your turn.”

We kept going until we saw two flashlight beams aimed at the tent's front entrance, and heard it being unzipped. They shook as much water off of their umbrellas as they could, and then propped them against the exterior of the tent. Wendy entered first, followed by Mom, who zipped the tent's front entrance. They were both carrying plastic grocery bags and seemed to be a little wet from the rain. Mom and Wendy laid their plastic bags aside, got back into their sleeping bags, and turned off their flashlights.

“We definitely won't need to water the lawn tomorrow,” Mom said with a laugh. “It's raining cats and dogs outside.”

“I saw three Great Danes and four tigers,” Wendy said.

I looked at her. “Really?”

She laughed and shook her head. “Of course not, silly. You would've heard them landing on the ground outside the tent. Did you?”

“No,” I said.

“How was it while we were gone?” Mom asked.

“It was fine,” Dad said. “We kept busy with some easy math. What's in the grocery bags? Food?”

“Snacks mostly, and some books,” she said. “Even though it isn't Halloween yet, I thought some candy for all of us would be a nice treat.”

“And the books?” he asked.

“Maybe we could take turns reading aloud to each other?” she suggested.

“Candy first,” Wendy said and I nodded agreement.

Mom turned on her flashlight and used it to search through her grocery bag. She took out three bars of chocolate with almonds in them, and gave one each to Dad, Wendy, and me.

“What books did you bring?” I asked, as I unwrapped the top part of my bar and bit into it.

She laughed softly. “Once a bookworm, always a bookworm. I think they're in your bag, Wendy.”

Wendy nodded and took out one book. “You used to read to us from this when we were younger.”

“What is it?” Dad asked.

“ 'Winnie-the-Pooh', ” she said.

“I remember that,” I said. “Who wants to start reading from it first?”

“Shall I?” Mom asked.

The three of us nodded agreement.

“All right,” she said. Wendy handed her the book. Mom skimmed through the table of contents and asked, “What about the story of what happened to Piglet during the big rainstorm? That seems appropriate tonight.”

It was unanimous. Wendy turned off her flashlight, so that only Mom's was still on. The three of us laid on our backs while Mom read aloud. The thunder seemed to want to punctuate the end of each sentence.

“Chapter 9 – In Which Piglet is Entirely Surrounded by Water,” Mom said.

“I do hope you aren't hoping the same thing will happen to us,” Dad said.

“Whatever gave you that idea?” she asked, sounding amused.

“Long experience after being married to you for the last fifteen years,” he said.

“Shall I continue?” she asked.

“Please do,” he said.

“Yes, please do,” Wendy and I echoed.

“ 'It rained and it rained and it rained', ” Mom said. “ 'Piglet told himself that never in all his life, and he was goodness knows how old – three, was it, or four? – never had he seen so much rain. Days and days and days.' ”

Moments after she said the third “days”, suddenly the power outside was back on. Wendy scrambled out of her sleeping bag, unzipped the tent's entrance, poked her head out, and looked around.

“The rain has stopped,” she announced. “And the lights are on inside our house.”

“Why don't you turn them off and come back to the tent?” Mom suggested.

Wendy nodded, and did so.

When she returned, Mom asked the three of us, “So – shall I finish reading the rest of the chapter?”

We nodded, and she did so.

But by the time Christopher Robin and Pooh arrived in Christopher Robin's umbrella-boat and rescued Piglet (more from Owl's long-winded story about his aunt than from the flood itself), I was yawning and so was Wendy. We crumpled up our empty chocolate bar wrappers and put them in Mom's grocery bag.

Mom finished the chapter, closed the book, and laid it aside.

“Sleep well, both of you.” she told my sister and me. She kissed each of us on the forehead. “Sweet dreams.”

As we closed our eyes, I heard Dad say, “This is one of those days when I'm so glad that we met, fell in love, got married, and started a family.”

“Same here,” Mom said, and something that sounded like a kiss.

But I couldn't tell for sure because I fell asleep just then.