A Weekend With My Punk Rock Cousin (Part 1)

“Jeanne!!!”

I woke from my usual Thursday-afternoon daze. Groggily, I got up from my desk to see what my mother wanted.

“Yes?” I called back.

“Come down here a minute.”

Her tone sounded somewhat excited, which woke me up rather quickly. I made my way downstairs and into the living room where my mother and father were sitting on the couch.

“We have some good news,” said my father.

“Let me guess; you just saved a bunch of money on your car insurance by switching to Geico,” I snickered. My parents nearly fell off the couch laughing.

“Like mother, like daughter,” said my mother. “We have that sense of humor.”

“Very funny, Jeanne,” said my father, trying to sound sarcastic but still unable to keep a straight face. “Actually, we’re going on a trip this weekend.”

Now even though I was 18, I still shuddered with excitement at the prospect of going on trips.

“Great!” I said, giggling. “So where are we going?”

“Somewhere we haven’t been in AGES,” said my mom. “We’re going up to Washington to visit your Uncle Andrew and Aunt Bertha!”

I gasped. I hadn’t seen my uncle and aunt in nearly six years!

“Oh my God! Are you serious?!” I yelled.

“Yep. They gave us a call just last night and said that it’s been a while. So they want us to come up for the weekend.”

I turned around. Shock and joy flooded my mind. I was going to see my aunt and uncle again!

“And,” said my father, “I’m sure you remember your cousin Jason?”

OUCH. That struck a blow to my happiness. I remembered my cousin all too well. When I had last seen him, he was a pudgy, buck toothed brat of 14, the ugly duckling of the family. He would always annoy the fuck outta me and push me around like I was nothing.

“Um, yeah,” I said. “I remember him.”

“Well he’s going to be there too,” said my mother ecstatically. “I hear he’s really looking forward to seeing you again.”

‘More like looking forward to being a snotty, little brat again,’ I thought irritably, but I said, “Cool.”

“So start packing,” said my mother. “We’re leaving at sunrise tomorrow!”


I went back upstairs and packed my stuff. Several thoughts raced through my mind as I packed. Some of them were joyous about seeing my aunt and uncle. But upon finding that my cousin was still around clouded them up. I burned with embarrassment knowing what a dork he was. Suddenly I remembered (how could I have been so stupid not to think of it before?) that it had been six years since I last saw him! Who knows? He might have changed in the past six years. Since I was 18, he had to be at least 20 now. Perhaps he had matured. But then again, I remembered a little saying that “some things never change.” I went to sleep early that night with thought of the next two days still racing through my mind. Little did I know that I was in store for the wildest weekend in my adolescent life…




The trip the next day was long and tiring, as I expected since we came from North Carolina. I slept most of the way, only waking when we stopped for lunch, then going back to sleep. We arrived in Washington sometime around 3:00 p.m., and I woke up again. It had been so long since I had been here, but it was still the beautiful city that I remembered.

A few minutes later, we came to the complex of houses where my aunt and uncle lived. It took us a while to find their house, but we came to a court where we saw the two of them flagging us down, and we pulled into the driveway.

Aunt Bertha had an ear-to-ear smile as we got out of the car.

“Vanessa!” she squealed as she hugged her sister.

“Oh Bertha! It’s been too LONG!” said my mother happily. Meanwhile, my dad shook hands with my uncle.

“Where you been all these years, broski?” Uncle Andrew said to him.

My dad laughed. I rolled my eyes. Their generation was using language of my generation? I knew we were in a new age after that.

“And here’s my beautiful niece!” said Aunt Bertha. I grinned as I gave her a hug. “Oh Jeanne, you’re so different from when I last saw you!”

Well duh! It’s been six years! I hastily changed the subject to the only thing I could think of.

“Where’s Jason?”

“He’s out somewhere with his friends,” said my uncle. “I think you’ll be surprised at what he’s become.”

I raised my eyebrows and started to help unload the van. I was still tired, so when we finished, I collapsed into a chair in the living room.

“We made up a place for you down in the basement,” said my aunt. “Just take your stuff down there when you’re ready.”

“Don’t worry,” snickered my uncle. “You won’t be down there alone. The basement is Jason’s insane asylum. Now your aunt and I are taking your parents out to dinner. We would take you, but where we’re going, no one under 21 allowed. But there’s plenty of food in the refrigerator, just help yourself. No telling when Jason will be home, though.”

“Okay,” I said, a little nervous. I was in the basement with Jason? This is gonna be interesting…

A few minutes later, my aunt, uncle, and parents left the house. I turned on the TV and watched a show. After about fifteen minutes, I fixed myself something to eat. Jason was the last thing on my mind while I was eating and watching TV, and I had just gotten done when the doorbell rang. Absentmindedly I got up and opened the door. I almost screamed.

If that face hadn’t been only slightly reminiscent of a kid I knew six years ago, I could have sworn a stranger had come to the house! My cousin Jason stood in the doorway, but in a period of six years, he had COMPLETELY changed. Rather than the chubby little geek that he had once been, he was now a punk-rock bad boy!