The oak door swung open before Cal could suppress the queasy premonition in his stomach.

Into view came Uncle Gil, bald head gleaming and mumbling, “Who’s that?” His tropical-print short-sleeve shirt hung open, exhibiting his lean musculature for the world to see.

On spotting the uneasy Cal, he immediately stepped forward and tousled the younger man’s hair. (Unlike other uncles, though, with Uncle Gil it wasn’t entirely clear how much of this gesture was due to paternal affection for Cal as opposed to an intrinsic, near ritualistic, desire to run his hands through someone’s hair, anyone’s hair.)

“I didn’t expect to see you for another few weeks, Callie-boy,” he said. “What’s brought you home early?”

Before Cal had a chance to answer, however, his uncle proceeded to pull him inside the house. “Don’t stand out there, my son. Come in already.”

Brought into the foyer, Cal removed his backpack and boots, meanwhile his uncle yelled into the depths of the house: “Jessie, Cal’s back!”

The response was immediate: a high-pitched gasp, a thud of something heavy being dropped, a rapid patter of footsteps. Jessica – Cal’s childhood friend – shortly burst into view; she thundered down the stairs and launched towards him.

He responded to the incoming projectile thoughtlessly, ingrained muscle memory guiding his body as he clenched his legs and core to absorb the shock while catching her in his arms. She hugged him tight (despite his sweat) as if intending to grapple him, her legs wrapped around his waist to prevent him from escaping the embrace.

“Oh my god, Cal. You said you wouldn’t be back for another twenty-five days but you’re here right now. What were you up to? Did you miss me too much to wait any longer?” The words bubbled out of her mouth without giving him any opportunity to speak – clearly a hereditary habit.

Dressed in a pink pyjama set, Jessica was a coltish girl a year younger and more than a head shorter than him. She had frizzy, flaxen hair coming down to her chest and, while on that particular topic, she also happened to have the sort of figure that took on its own magnetic field (especially when wearing décolleté clothing), attracting gazes by its very nature.

Now, as she progressively slid down the length of his body, these weapons of hers performed an enfilade across his chest and onto his midriff, during which she innocently looked up at him with her wide, dark eyes as though unaware of what she was doing; it was an act good enough to fool if only he hadn’t grown up with her.

“Oho,” Uncle Gil commented at the sight, causing Cal to blush with sudden self-awareness; his uncle, watching from the sidelines, looked like one of those middle-aged busybody ladies who flocked with the other aunts to gossip about so-and-so’s kid and him-and-her’s marriage, what with his smug expression and the conspiratorial hand covering his mouth.

Naturally, being an onlooker to an assault, Uncle Gil did as all good bystanders do and watched with zero interest of intervening.

In fact, even worse: his uncle had the gaze of a proud dad.

No, wait, Cal realised with a flicker of dread. That’s not the gaze of a proud dad; that’s the gaze of a proud coach!

Unfortunately for the scheming father-daughter duo, however, while they wanted Cal to officially be part of the family, he couldn’t help them with this as he already saw them that way; in his eyes Jessie was an overly attached little sister, and nothing further.

As if proving his point, Jessie deftly changed positions and landed on the ground, took his arm in her grip, then used it to drag him up the stairs towards her room like a ragdoll.

“Have fun, kids. But be careful,” Uncle Gil called after them. “I’m going to be so absorbed in reading my newspaper that I won’t hear even if you scream or cry for help…”

“What…” Cal managed to say while being hauled away. “I’m not going to do that to her!” Then came a pause, before his eyes widened and heart jolted. “Wait, wait! Are you saying that to me, or to her?”

He didn’t hear an answer as within a flash they’d already reached her room, the door closing behind him with an ominous thud.

Her lair, as always, was a mighty mess with dirty clothes scattered about, books and bags littering the floor, and half a platoon of bears occupying the bed. The walls were painted a fluffy pink as if to balance out and soften this picture of chaos.

Cal reproachfully wagged his head at the clutter but made no comment knowing all too well the futility of asking her to tidy her room.

From the bed, he moved aside Bugbear (whose iconic catchphrase was “What the bug you looking at?”, a close second being “You messed with the bug, now you get the bear”) and his brother Diablo-the-Pooh (whose full name was El Diablo, Destructor del Mundo, Especialmente de las Magdalenas de Miel the-Pooh).

Having cleared space, Cal took a seat and she sat beside him. “Okay, listen Jessie, I came here early for a special reason. Uh, there’s something important I’ve got to tell you.”

“About time,” she responded with a theatrical roll of her eyes.

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“No, not that.” He flicked her forehead. “I’ve told you many times before, you’re like a sister to me.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Step-sister?”

“No, sister-sister...” He placed his hands on her shoulders to stop her from interrupting. “Listen, I actually came here to say my farewells. I’m going out into the world to explore and, y’know, discover myself and whatever.”

Okay, I might have been a little remiss by omitting my parents’ role there, but you know what, any mention of them comes at a cost – an unduly unfair cost, it should be noted – to my personal dignity, so fuck that.

Jessie replied to him without missing a beat. “Sounds good. So when are we going?”

“Huh?” He’d been prepared for many a response from her, but this just so happened to be one he’d not expected whatsoever; going off gut feeling, he was about to reject her anyways when then he reconsidered: after all, it would be nice to have some company while traversing unfamiliar lands. Besides, he was fond of Jessie, even if not in the way she wanted.

“Well, I was thinking maybe staying over tonight and heading out tomorrow. Oh, but we’ll need your parents’ permission. Is your mum in?”

“Yeah, she’s downstairs. She’s been busy preparing something since yesterday.”

Going downstairs, they found her parents in the kitchen. True to his word, Uncle Gil was nestled in a rocking chair with his reading glasses on and today’s paper in his hands, meanwhile Auntie Jane fussed about putting together various items on the countertop, amongst which Cal noted several boxed lunches, flint and steel, and a rolled-up leather tent.

With her hair pulled back in a tight blonde bun, his aunt wore a fine white blouse and dark trousers – so simple yet elegant – that complemented the lean, angular look she had in her face and body. (Jessie’s jugs had come from her dad’s side of the family, which Cal only knew of because his uncle had, on many an occasion, proudly proclaimed that his dear mother had indeed been in possession of a milkshake recipe that had regularly brought all the boys to her yard).

In her youth, Auntie Jane had travelled with Cal’s mum before returning back home to settle down, and as such he viewed her as a more responsible version of his mum.

His aunt looked up as they walked in. “Hey there, Cal. How are you?”

“Dad, Mum,” interjected Jessie in a loud voice, “Cal’s going on a journey around the world, and I’m going with him.”

Her dad dropped his newspaper and flashed a knowing smile. “Oho,” he said, his eyebrows perking up. He even gave a thumbs up.

This offending digit, however, was caught mid-gesture by Auntie Jane as a chilling aura emanated from her. “Hold it, baldie.”

Uncle Gil’s smile froze and small creases cropped up over his face. His eyes gave off a thousand-yard stare as memories resurfaced of his slick-back pompadour, his skunk mullet, his rainbow mohawk; Jane had hated them (out of jealousy, no doubt) but he’d been a man on top of the world back in those days, unfettered by the conformist chains of society.

Auntie Jane ignored his little episode (lest she triggered her own memory of second-hand embarrassment at seeing her husband’s biker gang roll out, the whole squad suited up in black studded leather jackets and gelled back hair; middle-aged mischief-makers going around town on their bicycles).

She swung her husband’s arm back down and turned her attention to Jessie, who promptly yelped. “You’re not going anywhere, missy. Did you forget you’ve got school restarting in a few weeks?”

“So does Cal,” Jessie replied, holding firm in a moment of bravery.

Auntie Jane returned fire with an artillery salvo. “Cal is at the top of his class, does his homework on time, and has finished his holiday reading in advance. Besides, he’s practically done with his education.”

Cal felt bashful at her praise and rubbed a finger under his nose, unable to hide his simper.

Conversely, Jessie trembled under the barrage with tears welling up at the corners of her eyes, appearing like a frightened chick under a harsh spotlight.

Unfortunately, this move was ineffective against Auntie Jane’s merciless, maternal bombardment. “On the other hand, you don’t pay attention in class, you get Cal to do most of your homework, and you wouldn’t know a book even if one were to smack you right in the face. You’re not going, and that’s final, Jessica.”

Ah, there’s the Jessica name-drop – I guess this is over, then.

The floodgates opened and Jessie dissolved into tears. She ran to her dad and wailed into his arms. “Mum’s a bully. She’s a rotten bully.”

Uncle Gil rubbed her back and consoled her, all the while manly tears trickled down his own face. “I know, I know.” He pointedly didn’t look in his wife’s direction. “Let’s go to our safe space where beasts and billy-no-mates aren’t allowed.”

Jessie gave an energetic “Yeah!” and the two of them mournfully shuffled out of the room as if following a funeral procession; as they were leaving, Jessie stuck out her tongue towards her mother and blew a fat raspberry.

A vein popped out on Auntie Jane’s forehead but despite this she somehow maintained control; she simply stood there menacingly until the wailing, waddling father-daughter combo was gone out of sight.

Taking a moment to recompose herself, reflexively dusting off her clothes and smoothing back her hair, Auntie Jane returned her attention to Cal with a softened expression. “So Cal, Lily told me yesterday how you declared you were going out into the world to adventure, and how you wouldn’t take no for an answer no matter how much she pleaded with you to stay in school and finish your final year.”

That old hag!

“That’s impressive resolve you have – it reminds me of Lily, actually, when she was your age, although for her it was more a case of being chased out from Greenhorn than anything else.” Reminiscing, Auntie Jane had a warm look in her eyes and a wistful smile. “You wouldn’t believe how much of a troublemaker your mum was back then.”

I can take an educated guess.

“They couldn’t keep her out of trouble no more than they could keep the sun from shining, so in the end they decided she should at least be someone else’s problem to deal with.”

His aunt scoffed, shaking her head. “And how the world suffered for that decision. But at least I won’t have to worry about the same thing happening with you: you’re not going to end up like your old lady, right?”

Cal nodded like the good boy he was, even though his face creased up at the absurdity she’d mentioned. “Of course not, Auntie.” You insult me by even raising it as a possibility, my sweet aunt; I’d sooner die than end up like that Ogress.

His aunt tittered at his stiff-necked response. “I’m just teasing you, Cal – no, your mum was one of a kind, that’s for sure. Anyway, once she told me about your decision, I knew you’d come by here so I thought I’d prepare some supplies for you to take on your adventures.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to,” Cal said, bringing a hand to his heart; he felt touched on realising everything on the countertop had been procured for him.

I suppose this is Mum’s way of preparing supplies for me: getting her friend to do the actual work while she gives a fictitious account of why I’m leaving to make herself look better.

“Well, I knew Lily wouldn’t have anything prepared for you.” Auntie Jane giggled, and Cal joined her laughter – or he did, until an abrupt look of dread flashed over his face, a sudden pain exploding in his chest.

Before he knew it the pain was gone, and with it control of his body; the usurper was back.