Food Groups

Dewey loved eating. Dewey did not love to eat everything put in front of him. Squishy things like yogurt or melted cheese made him almost gag. So he didn’t like macaroni and cheese or grilled cheese. He liked pizza though. He wasn’t a psycho.

He also preferred to eat his food in courses, and he didn’t like things mixed together. Peas and pasta and chicken tasted fine, but each had its own spot on the plate. Dewey would eat all of one item, then the next, and finish the last. It used to drive his mother crazy. He knew this because she used to say things like, “Dewey, you’re driving me crazy!” Now though, she seemed used to his ways and just glad he ate well from each of the food groups.

Health class was teaching a lot about food groups lately. They had to look at what they were eating at home, paying close attention to the ingredients and how much they ate of each food, then compare it to some government chart. Dewey didn’t really care very much about charts. He did, however, care a good deal about snacks, which accounted, in part, for his great love of the vending machines. He thought the whole idea that you could just go and get something you want whenever was groundbreaking! He and his best friends, Colin and Seraphina, met up there whenever they could between classes and during the break.

No one spoke at the vending machines. They just fed their dollars in and waited for it to drop the food. Chips, popcorn, corn nuts, granola bars, overpriced beef jerky, and, on occasion, Tootsie Rolls or M&Ms. You’d never know when those would be there. Pop-Tarts. Great idea, but they had no toaster. Some kids microwaved it during lunch break, but Dewey did not recommend that. Microwaved Pop-Tarts meant a tart without the pop which seemed to defeat the whole point completely.

The extent of the vending machine area conversation usually consisted of “what should I get?” or “can I have a dollar?” Beyond that, kids just grabbed their grub and headed to the main lawn area to hang out. There they’d sit down, eat their snack, and talk about whatever happened in class.

Today, Colin was fired up because the charger for his mini quad-copter had finally arrived, and now he could fly it again. He had lost his first charger, and the copter died so it had been just sitting on his shelf for months. He liked to fly it around his mom’s condo building and sometimes, on the weekends, in the empty tennis court at the nearby school after the security guard left. The charger finally arrived last night, so he had it all charged and ready to go.

“You should come over right after we get out for the weekend. Ask your mom if you can come home with me,” Colin said, ripping a piece of beef jerky between his teeth, betraying his dimples.

“How can you eat that stuff?”

“It’s good,” replied Colin, shoving a piece under Dewey’s nose. “Have some.”

Colin’s soft black curls made a round helmet over his warm brown face. Separately, each curl formed a soft, complete letter “o.” Together, Dewey thought, all those little “o”s piled atop one another had grown so much over the summer that it almost looked like a wig. There was a soft fuzz outlining the whole rounded shape creating one big arc of curls, and a few random tendrils hung down over his forehead and the back of his neck.

“No thanks,” he declined, pushing away Colin’s hand.

“So,” continued Colin, tearing off another bite. “Can you come?”

“Yeah,” replied Dewey. “I think that should be fine. I’ll ask my dad if I can go home with you. Did you get the extra propellers too?”

The warning bell for class rang so they gathered their things. Each headed off in a different direction, and Dewey never got his answer to the propeller question. He hoped Colin had gotten them because he and Colin always crashed the drone, and those things broke so easily.

“Where the binder reminder is Seraphina?” Dewey wondered aloud, suddenly realizing that she hadn’t shown up for a snack with him and Colin during the break.