Hi, my name is Maridel, but my friends call me Mary. Not Ma-ry, but Mah-ry. I was biking with my dad and brother in the middle of Nowhere. Nowhere is the town I live in, but it looks pretty close to the middle of nowhere. Nowhere and nowhere are very different places. So we were biking in the middle of Nowhere, when I smelled something. It smelled like hot fudge, Neapolitan ice cream, whipped cream, and caramelized cherries combined into one food. Dessert Taco, I thought. I totally forgot that I was biking when I was whisked back into a very interesting memory. I was camping with my dad, brother, and friend. My friend’s name was Marc, and he had agreed to come with us for a 5-day camping trip. We were in the middle of a deep, dark forest, but I wasn’t scared of them because Nowhere was located near many big forests. It was about 11:00pm, and we were all sitting by the campfire. My smile was illuminated by the roaring fire that we were using to roast our marshmallows. “Today’s the best day for a campfire!” exclaimed Marc. My brother nodded, gobbling down his mostly burnt marshmallow. “After a few more marshmallows, we have to go to sleep.” said Dad. Dad was the only thing that kept us from not eating marshmallows up to 3 in the morning, because if he wasn’t here with us, that is what we would have probably done. “Ok.” we all chorused. After a bit, Dad put out the fire, and then we were just about to go to sleep when we heard a deep, hungry growl. My brother looked at me and asked nervously, ”What was that?” I shrugged my shoulders, peering around at the dark, trying to see if there’s anything there. Marc started to slowly walk into the forest, but jumped back suddenly, startled. His eyes were wide. “T-There’s a-a b-bear.” he stuttered. I looked at Dad, waiting for him to do something. “Kids,” he told us with reassurance. “Just don’t make any sudden moves” Then the dark forest rustled, and a dark shadow slowly was creeping out. It was about 5 meters long, with a hump on its neck like a camel. It looked up at us with its little glossy, black eyes, and sniffed around. It kept sniffing, the trail leading up to Marc. Marc was waving his hands in front of the bear to stop him from coming towards him, but obviously that wasn’t working. “Don't move,” said Dad. Marc stiffened up like a totem pole, and the bear walked around him, still sniffing. I whispered, ”What is he looking for?” The bear nuzzle gently went into Marc's right pocket. Mar started to look panicked. Dad gave him a Don’t move or else it will tear you to shreds look . Marc, still looking panicked, tried to look as much as a pole as possible. The bear finally pulled its nose out of Marc’s pocket, a plastic bag hanging from its mouth, and then trotted over to the extinguished campfire. Marc’s shoulders fell, so relieved that there was not a grizzly bear circling around anymore. But then he ran towards the bear, shouting, “Hey! That’s my blended taco!” My brother, Dad and I looked at each other, my brother with a disgusted look on his face. A blended taco ?! I thought. That does not sound appetizing at all. The bear was halfway through grinding the plastic bag to pieces, when Marc just snatched the half-torn bag from under the bear face, which would have earned him a bite, but thankfully that didn’t happen. The bear just looked up at Marc just like how a baby looks at a mother when it got a scratch on its leg, on the brink of bursting into tears. “Oh, all right”, Marc said. He reached inside the bag and pulled out a big water bottle. It was filled with a puke pink, but without the chunks in it. He opened the bottle, and dripped some of the liquid inside the bear's mouth. After the bear swallowed the drink, he looked exactly how I thought a bear would smile, then turned around and trudged off into the dark forest. My eyes zipped from Marc, to the puke bottle, to where the bear was sitting moments ago, and back again. Marc looked at Dad and said, trembling moderately, ”What just happened?”
And now we’re sitting in the tent, all scrambling and yelling about what just happened. Marc yelled, ”I was scared! It was circling around me like it wants to decide if I’m good for an omelets or a sandwich!” My brother jumped in, saying, ”It was a bear! When I go back to school, Daddy, I’m gonna tell Ms. Grebe that I saw a bear!” Dad tried to calm us down, but that was not working at the moment. I said, ”That was so cool! It was, like, right there, and Marc even gave it some of that puke stuff!” When I mentioned the puke stuff, everyone froze. “What?” I asked, unsure of why they just all froze. “Mary,” said Marc slowly. “This is not puke.” I looked at him in disbelief. “Then what IS it?” I asked. “I thought it was cat food for Marc’s cat,” my brother said shyly. Marc looked at my brother, surprised. “I don’t have a cat.” said Marc. “I know that,” said my brother. “But I just thought you got one for your birthday maybe.” I turned to Dad. “What do you think it is?” “Ok, why don’t you just let me tell you WHAT IT ACTUALLY IS?” Marc shouted, yelling over all of us at the end there. “It’s a blended dessert taco.” Dad, my brother and I all got started on what the world that was, but then Marc butted in again. “I’ll tell you what’s in it if you would JUST LISTEN!” We all went quiet. “So,” Marc started. “My mom found out about these things called dessert tacos.” We all opened our mouths, but he shushed us with his hand. “They’re made of Neapolitan ice cream, hot fudge, whipped cream, waffle cone shells, and cherries. So, we started making them for special events, like when I was elected for class president and when I went to that half-marathon. So when I told my mom I wanted to come with you on this camping trip, she made a dessert taco and blended it so that it won’t melt, and so that I can drink it whenever I want.” We looked at Marc in amazement. “That’s cool!” exclaimed my brother. “Well,” Dad said. “You can’t drink out of that bottle anymore, because the bear’s mouth touched it.” Marc’s expression sank. “Oh yeah.” “Do you want me to call your mom so she can pick you up?” Dad asked. “No, I want to stay with you guys.” said Marc. I smiled, and said, ”So can we go to sleep now? I’m really tired from watching that bear deciding on how to cook you.” Marc smirked at me and nodded his head. Dad turned off our electric lamp, and we all snuggled into our sleeping bags and dozed off.
I opened my eyes, panicking. “I’M BIKING!” I thought. I had just gone into a memory while biking. I could have crashed!, I thought. I looked up at the building in front of me. The sign read, Bear Tacos, with a picture of a dessert taco loaded up with sweets. I looked down to the doors, where Marc ran towards me. He hugged me, while I’m still in disbelief. “Hi, Mary!” Marc exclaimed, walking back from our hug. I pointed up to the building, too shocked to even talk. “Oh, yeah, my mom loved making dessert tacos so much that she started a business!” A smile grew on my face. “C-Could I h-have one?” I asked, still nervous how I didn't crash earlier.. “Of course you can! Which one?” Marc asked. Then he started rambling about all the different kinds of dessert tacos that they sell. Don’t get me wrong, I love dessert tacos, but I was just so confused at what had just happened, I didn’t know what to think. We walked into the dessert-taco themed room, and Marc’s mom came over to me and asked, ”Would you like to have our chocolate drizzle special?” I nodded my head, my tongue licking in hunger. After a few minutes of me and Marc chatting, his mom brought my dessert taco over. When she left the table, I told Marc, “That camping trip was crazy.” Marc nodded, his mouth full of ice cream. “Ith sor was” We both laughed, spraying Neapolitan ice cream everywhere. Dessert tacos, I thought. Are my favourite things ever.