laughed. “My idea was better than anything you guys came up with.” Then, realizing what she had just said, she peered at me. “Peeky, I didn’t mean…”
I waved her off. “I know.”
“She meant us, Peeky,” Roger said.
“We’ll draw straws.”
Barry rocked forward in his chair. “What?”
“To see who goes first,” I said. “We just draw straws. It’s more fair.”
The others probably liked the idea of using persuasive arguments to plead their cases. They also knew better than to think that anyone would be talked out of a chance at taking the first trip.
The teapot whistled.
“That’s the end of round one.” Barry joined me as I headed into the kitchen.
“It is more fair,” I whispered, reaching for some soda straws he had in a jar. They had accumulated just like the dozen or so ketchup packets in the fridge: too many late nights at the lab with a fast food dinner on the way home. I arranged the straws on the counter. “Why do you even have these? You never use straws.”
“They throw them in the bag.” Barry shrugged. “Seems wasteful to just throw them out. So I throw ‘em in that jar.”
“Where nobody uses them.”
“ You’re about to use them.”
I pulled a scissors from the drawer and picked a few straws up, trimming one enough to make sure it was shorter than the others – and letting Barry see which color it was: red. Couldn't hurt to give an advantage to the right person.
“At least it will appear more fair,” I whispered. “Go on back out there.”
Barry nodded and went to join the others in the middle of the living room. After a moment, I collected the straws and put down the scissors. “Time to draw.”
Melissa turned. “What about Riff?”
I walked to the couch. “You all draw for yourselves.” I held up a fist of straws, the ends hidden. “Then, Melissa, you draw for Riff. Whatever straw is left will go to me.”
“Okay.” She and the others gathered around.
We stared at each other, wondering who should pick first.
“Uh, go ahead.” Barry nudged Roger with an elbow. It was a bold move to let anyone else go first, since Barry wanted to choose red.
Roger let his hand hover over the cluster of plastic straws, deciding which one was the right one.
Green, red, blue, yellow, orange. He appeared to study them, searching for some kind of advantage.
Barry bit his nail, waiting for Roger to make his selection.
In a quick move, Roger dropped his hand onto the pile and plucked out a straw.
Blue.
I had to contain myself, so as not to give up the game. Roger did not yet know if he had won or lost.
“Melissa, you’re next,” I said. Barry flashed me a look of panic, then recovered. He wasn’t the only one with a bold move up his sleeve.
She stared at the remaining straws, a world of possibility waiting on the selection. Following Roger’s example, she let her hand hover over the straws, then dropped it like a hawk after a pond fish and scooped out her choice.
Green.
Barry inhaled, more to express relief, but the others probably took it as a sign of getting ready for his turn.
Melissa looked at me. “Now, for Riff?”
Barry had to hold his breath. “Sure.”
“Riffy’s favorite color is…”
Not red .
“…blue. So, since that’s gone -”
She plucked a straw.
Orange.
Another masked sigh of relief from Barry. There were two left. Red and yellow.
He decided to appear magnanimous. “Peeky, go ahead.”
“No,” I said. “I already know which one is the short one. You go.”
“Okay.” Barry took a deep breath.
He reached out and drew a straw – the red one.
“And that leaves me with yellow,” I said. “Everybody show your straws so we can all see which is the short one.”
I held mine up with two fingers to reveal a full length straw.
Everybody else showed theirs.
“Booyah!” Roger held up the short straw.
Barry shot me a wide-eyed glance as Melissa gave Roger a high five. I went into the kitchen while Roger mused out
I waved her off. “I know.”
“She meant us, Peeky,” Roger said.
“We’ll draw straws.”
Barry rocked forward in his chair. “What?”
“To see who goes first,” I said. “We just draw straws. It’s more fair.”
The others probably liked the idea of using persuasive arguments to plead their cases. They also knew better than to think that anyone would be talked out of a chance at taking the first trip.
The teapot whistled.
“That’s the end of round one.” Barry joined me as I headed into the kitchen.
“It is more fair,” I whispered, reaching for some soda straws he had in a jar. They had accumulated just like the dozen or so ketchup packets in the fridge: too many late nights at the lab with a fast food dinner on the way home. I arranged the straws on the counter. “Why do you even have these? You never use straws.”
“They throw them in the bag.” Barry shrugged. “Seems wasteful to just throw them out. So I throw ‘em in that jar.”
“Where nobody uses them.”
“ You’re about to use them.”
I pulled a scissors from the drawer and picked a few straws up, trimming one enough to make sure it was shorter than the others – and letting Barry see which color it was: red. Couldn't hurt to give an advantage to the right person.
“At least it will appear more fair,” I whispered. “Go on back out there.”
Barry nodded and went to join the others in the middle of the living room. After a moment, I collected the straws and put down the scissors. “Time to draw.”
Melissa turned. “What about Riff?”
I walked to the couch. “You all draw for yourselves.” I held up a fist of straws, the ends hidden. “Then, Melissa, you draw for Riff. Whatever straw is left will go to me.”
“Okay.” She and the others gathered around.
We stared at each other, wondering who should pick first.
“Uh, go ahead.” Barry nudged Roger with an elbow. It was a bold move to let anyone else go first, since Barry wanted to choose red.
Roger let his hand hover over the cluster of plastic straws, deciding which one was the right one.
Green, red, blue, yellow, orange. He appeared to study them, searching for some kind of advantage.
Barry bit his nail, waiting for Roger to make his selection.
In a quick move, Roger dropped his hand onto the pile and plucked out a straw.
Blue.
I had to contain myself, so as not to give up the game. Roger did not yet know if he had won or lost.
“Melissa, you’re next,” I said. Barry flashed me a look of panic, then recovered. He wasn’t the only one with a bold move up his sleeve.
She stared at the remaining straws, a world of possibility waiting on the selection. Following Roger’s example, she let her hand hover over the straws, then dropped it like a hawk after a pond fish and scooped out her choice.
Green.
Barry inhaled, more to express relief, but the others probably took it as a sign of getting ready for his turn.
Melissa looked at me. “Now, for Riff?”
Barry had to hold his breath. “Sure.”
“Riffy’s favorite color is…”
Not red .
“…blue. So, since that’s gone -”
She plucked a straw.
Orange.
Another masked sigh of relief from Barry. There were two left. Red and yellow.
He decided to appear magnanimous. “Peeky, go ahead.”
“No,” I said. “I already know which one is the short one. You go.”
“Okay.” Barry took a deep breath.
He reached out and drew a straw – the red one.
“And that leaves me with yellow,” I said. “Everybody show your straws so we can all see which is the short one.”
I held mine up with two fingers to reveal a full length straw.
Everybody else showed theirs.
“Booyah!” Roger held up the short straw.
Barry shot me a wide-eyed glance as Melissa gave Roger a high five. I went into the kitchen while Roger mused out
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