As soon as Mom felt the rumble of the Witch's fart, she forgot all about going home, and the car-house, and ooey-goey, cheesy tortillas. She tickled the Witch and her mouth bunched up on one side. She held the Witch high in the air and followed her deeper into the hills.
I stuck my butt to the ground. "But what about my quesadilla?"
"Let's just see if there's cell service a little higher up the mountain," she said.
"You mean closer to the sun? How about we go back to the beach instead?" I turned back toward the End of the World. "Come on, it's this way."
"Just a little ways." Mom walked away, holding the Witch in front of her like a magic charm.
"But my quesadilla!"
"I just want to see how far the drive is to the quesadilla place from here. You don't want to get there before the kitchen opens, do you?"
I plodded heavily behind them like the rock tied to a balloon's string, trying to keep Mom from floating away. No matter which way Mom waved her, the Witch stayed silent about my quesadilla.
The Witch pulled harder on the invisible leash and Mom started to trot. I couldn't tell if it was nature or civilization calling her back, just that Mom was accepting the call. She ran in clumsy, plopping steps that made the packpack slosh like a fish having a temper tantrum. After a few more steps, she dropped the Witch-arm to her side and started to jog, only looking down at the screen every few steps.
"Where are you going?" I panted. "I thought you were just going a little ways."
"If we can just get around to the other side of the... Achhhllllrrrrrgggghhhh!"
Mom made a choking sound as her bladder suddenly started leaking. It soaked her shorts and poured in rivers down her legs and into her socks.
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