Arc Introduction
======

Mystery Rock Arc - This is not directly connected to Flush With Pride/Cute Gamer Girl or any other storyline. I can't rule out the appearance of familiar faces though...

Content warning - May contain light sexual elements and adult language. 

This story is loosely inspired by Olivia Evan's classic "The Dark Crystal". 

 

A Rock and Family Vacation

[1]

After a trek of five hundred miles to their Airbnb, Clare was the first to jump out of the backseat as soon as the car came to a stop. Lacy scooted and scrambled out just behind. Blair only took his time because he didn’t wanna appear as desperate as his younger brothers.

However, that meant it was easy for their mom, Brooke, to halt him before he got far and ask that he help unpack the trunk. With an audible, extended sigh that he made sure she heard, Blair scuffed his feet across the pavement and went around to the back of their car.

Eliot slipped out of the driver's side and popped on his shades before making his way around. By the time he arrived at the trunk, Blair wobbled like a bedraggled man trapped on a desolate desert island for countless days without food or water, barely remaining on his feet without the support of hanging off the bumper. Eliot flashed him a quick look and popped the trunk. Blair immediately grabbed his bag, but Eliot encouraged him to pick up a couple of the stray ones, like the duffel of snacks.

Their eldest son twisted himself in the bags and wrapped them around his neck. Brooke managed to corral the other boys back over from exploring the side of the rental house and assigned them each their own bag to take along with an extra one. Lacy put on a melodramatic show that the bags were enveloping and consuming him and especially “eating my butt”. Clare snickered and looped in circles with his load.

Once inside, several bags were shed in the first convenient spot as the boys shot off to explore the rooms. Brooke scrunched up her forehead and wafted her top as the central air leached away some of the oppressive humidity. She wanted to yell and call them back to deal with the pile but really she wanted to find the nearest couch and pop every one of her joints in order.

The rental house had three floors and a small cellar which wasn’t underneath so much as situated off to the side. The main floor had an open kitchen and dining area overlooking the waves through electrochromic glass. She knew about it because her dad couldn’t stop talking about it when he paid for the rental.

Upstairs were all the bedrooms along with a side Jacuzzi and a stainless steel bath. The third floor contained a den for relaxing with a wide section opening up to a seaside view. Slipping her shoes off and stretching lengthwise on the big couch by the large TV, Brooke could almost feel herself drifting off with the distant white noise of the water and the sinking ease of the cushions. Her wrists and ankles sounded like cracking timber. With another pop, she craned her neck over her shoulder and watched as Eliot took a couple of their bags over to the side closet.

She urged, “Leave that for the boys. They have the energy to burn off.” Eliot countered that it was fine, and he would leave plenty for them. Brooke wanted to say something further, but the allure of the cushions dragged her back into relaxation. Unfortunately, the call of her bowels soon brought an end to that relaxation. It had been way too long and nowhere near comfortable at the last rest stop.

Everyone else had the same idea at the same time though, so Brooke had to squeeze into the half bath behind the stairs. She gradually worked the kinks out of her neck as she checked her text messages and sent her mom and her dad confirmation that they arrived. Her dad made sure for the nth time that she knew about the glass in the windows.

She also confirmed that an additional document she promised would be done by tomorrow night. It was the final Iteration of the design proposal for an eyeshadow kit that contained sativa. The fonts were nearly final and some of the names had to be replaced. Their competitors had really clever weed-suggestive-but-romantic labels. Brooke was lost in how many ways she could make friggin’ brown sound sexy. Eliot suggested ones they couldn’t get or had already used.

That was her at the moment, bearing down painfully and exposed to something she just wanted to be done. Getting it done last week would’ve truly impressed her dad, so at this point it was just treading water and avoiding disappointment. Staring out at the water helped, even though it was all psychological.

Scoping out the rest of the house, Brooke was glad to see that everyone got a bed. Blair, of course, claimed the big queen in the guest bedroom, while Lacy had the double next to the window with a skylight that he considered very cool. The adjoining bedroom next to the master king had another double where Clare kicked back. He already had his Nintendo Switch set up on the dresser and charging.

One of the bonuses of this location was they had free access to some streaming services and each of them was allowed to download as much as possible. But an informal rule was not to break out any of that till later. Blair took at least a hundred YouTube videos. Eliot had a bunch of Netflix series. Lacy downloaded twenty games off of Steam. And Clare had half of the Cartoon Network catalog along with about ten books. Brooke grabbed a mix from all of those. It wasn’t that they would be left without a pipe to the outside world, it was just offline insurance. The gigabit connection seemed to be working fine as Brooke scowled at and tested the version of Disney+ on the smart TV.

”Is it OK if I walk along the beach… for the rocks?” Brooke picked a bit of sleepy from her eyes which refused to come out. She turned and glanced at Clare standing there, rocking back and forth on his legs with a crumpled paper in his hands. She vaguely remembered his geology extra credit. Nodding, Brooke held up a finger and announced, “I’ll go with you. We can see how far it is to the boardwalk.”

Somewhere between there, Blair strode in with Lacy right behind to declare that his younger brother was a “posterior cruncher”. He was  sprawling out from the double with his feet and trying to make him smell them and break the mattress. Brooke warned them not to break anything because everything around here was expensive. Remember…grandpa picked out and paid for the rental. They don’t wanna make grandpa mad, because then there would be no Christmas for them (or whatever). Lacy frowned and bit his tongue. Blair took this as a victory.

Before the rocks though, Eliot assigned bags to the boys and stuff to unpack based on what they found. The medicine bag went into one of the bathrooms. Snack duffel went by the pantry. Book bag went into the den. Extra toiletries by the sink. And so forth until things looked manageable again. Brooke and Clare put on their sandals and walked out.

The oceanfront had a small sliver just for them before signs proclaimed and fences marked separate properties. Sandpipers dashed across the sand and dug for insects. Gulls strutted as though they fashioned themselves princes. And clams spat wetly while brown and blue crabs bolted up and down the path.

It wasn’t long before Clare found a rock striped like a candy cane, although with more reddish-brown than white. Another one looked dark gray with white bubbles. It made Brooke hungry because it reminded her of the custom kiszka and salceson sandwich she got from the little Polish deli on the way.

That was all that her son was able to find that looked interesting or like the examples from the handout. They strolled up a path that dodged away from a private beach and over to the small town boardwalk. It was bustling.

First was a bar and lounge with an undersea theme. Followed by a t-shirt shop with merchandise fluttering in the breeze. An open-view sushi bar came after that. Then some chain restaurants, including a pizzeria. A small marine center next to a modest Ferris wheel. Steakhouse, fitness center, a crab place that looked like an overbuilt shack on the beach, a tattoo parlor, an artisan rugs store, several clothing shops, and a kite/wind chime place. Clare was drawn to the used book shop but gave a weird look to the non-dairy ice creamery.

As a family, they eventually went with the crab place because they didn’t need to dress up and no one wanted to. Lacy got the cioppino in a bread bowl because it looked like the crab was trying to escape. Eliot and Brooke had pastas and shared some oyster shooters. Blair said he really liked the surf and turf tacos. And Clare just marveled at the sea urchin and lobster bisque because the leftover spiky shell adorned the back of his plate. It was way more than Eliot or Brooke could ever remember paying for a meal but since grandpa was covering all expenses, out came some wine too.

After supper, Clare had to be warned from climbing the shelves of the used bookstore. Blair actually snagged a puzzle book for himself while Lacy picked out an automotive magazine amongst the new stuff. The book that Clare wound up with included lots of rocks and Snoopy as the guide. The older lady who ran the shop noticed when Brooke called out to her kids.

Casually, the woman inquired, “Shall I write the little man’s name in it?” Brooke rubbed at her eyes and cracked her neck another way to make it feel better. CLARE. She remarked on how unique that name was.

Brooke soon admitted that her other boys were BLAIR and LACY. Ringing them up, the old woman remarked, “My goodness, must be quite a story to all that.” Shrugging, Brooke noted, “Not really. Just their names.” Fortunately, she left it at that and wished them a good evening.

The sun had started to dip behind them, casting the waterfront in a golden red glow. Clare continued to scope around for rocks, even though they urged him not to wander far. Eliot wished he brought a sweater and Brooke wished she brought something to contain her blonde hair a little better against the sea breeze.

“WOAH!” Clare called out over the next ridge. Brooke caught up to him and squinted at whatever he was crouched over. It appeared to be a significant chunk of dark obsidian speckled with a luminous rainbow glow that practically appeared holographic. Unsurprisingly, Clare deduced that it had to be some sort of rainbow obsidian. But it didn’t quite match the pictures in his book.

He attempted to pick it up but quickly dropped it with a half-muttered, “Ow. It shocked me.” Brooke got closer and made sure that he was all right. Her son tucked the rock in his plastic bag with the rest of his stuff and assured her he was all right.

Back at the beach house, Clare put all his rocks aside in one of the dressers and joined the family for something Lacy picked out, an extreme sports documentary, from Blair‘s videos. Whatever kept them away from the Disney crap was fine by Brooke.

About halfway through, she noticed that little Clare was fading fast with his eyes barely open half the time. She took him over to the master bath to scrub up. He needed some help there as he had a lot of trouble keeping his eyes open. His hair was usually a close, almost pencil-like helmet sketch that barely went past his ears. But it had puffed and bloomed in a way that more than half covered them. He also appeared a little smaller than normal with especially soft hands as she helped him out.

Naturally, she gave no heed to such ridiculous notions. Their son was growing up, not shrinking. But his blue and gray pajamas dangled on him, and she needed to loop and tighten the waistband drawstring. He barely crawled under his covers before he was snoring. She dimmed the lights as much as possible while leaving the door cracked.

Brooke stayed up for the entire movie and a few of the spooky shorts the boys followed it with, riffing on whatever looked fake. Eventually, those kids got tired, and Eliot took care of making sure they got to bed. Eliot had some writing inspiration to jot down in a notebook while Brooke glared at her still unfinished work.

“You’ll get it”, he reassured her. “Just don’t try to push it so hard.”

She knew but vented about feeling her dad breathing down her neck. They washed up at the same time in the bath and shower. They flashed certain looks at one another but each felt too exhausted to bother with anything remotely sexy.

Before turning in for the evening, Brooke looked in on Clare still audibly snoozing. Brooke thought his hair looked different but also knew that was crazy. Rubbing her eyes, she snuggled up to Eliot as they both went to sleep.

The sound of what came next roused Brooke with acute awareness.

“Mommy? Daddy? I need help.” Having raised Blair through protracted childhood illness, they often discovered he vomited everywhere at 3 AM. They found Lacy split his forehead open doing gosh knows what. And found ways to calm Clare from his vivid dreams. They were ready to go. Theoretically.

Brooke bounced up from the bed with her comforting hands out. She suddenly snapped back, as though finding a cottonmouth instead of her child in front of her. Clare’s face was there but framed by ropy twisting blonde locks to his neck. Her first thought was that one of his brothers had planted a ridiculous wig on his head. But that made no sense, because Clare was smart enough to just take it off and use it as evidence.

Her boy also tugged at those fair crinkles, and nothing was coming loose. Brooke sat on the side of the bed and cleared her throat.

“What’s wrong, sweetie? What do you need help with?”

His little mouth twisted a few ways as he fussed with his pants and did a little two-step in place. “I can’t find it and I gotta go.”

Some of the tension settled from her shoulders while still leaving her alert. Potty issue. Still a problem for a six-year-old. Eliot was already getting up and understood enough.

“It’s all right buddy, I got you.”

Eliot definitely did a double take to Clare’s longer hair but sniffled and led the way to the master bathroom. Brooke puzzled over that as she leaned back on the bed. Disoriented? Turned around from a nightmare? Or just wanting someone to go with him in this strange house? She had no idea.

Just as the clutches of sleep started to settle back around her, Brooke heard her husband call her name from the bathroom and add, “… could you come here… a moment?”

His tone sounded way more puzzled than when Microsoft dropped a shitty update that messed up his writing but frantic in a sense that electrified all her fears. It was still restrained, but she knew something was wrong. Brooke dashed and was at the threshold of the bathroom in the span of a single breath.

Their son sat nervously on the toilet seat with his jammies down and his eyes searching as he did his business. Brooke puzzled quietly until she got closer and saw the shocking truth. Quietly, their little boy explained, “It’s gone. My little birdy. Was it something I ate?”

Brooke’s heart raced, but she did her best not to show the alarm on her face to her son as she realized with sickening certainty that he didn’t seem to be a boy anymore. Somehow, suddenly, their son was a girl.

Wrestling a bramble of confusion, she used a soft pleasant voice to dodge around that issue and reassure him they would figure this out but… He needed to be more careful now. She showed him how to wipe and be clean and he followed her direction but grumbled that it wasn’t as easy and clean as normal.

They wanted to make sure their son wasn’t worried by this, but that was a hard thing to do when each of them was absolutely terrified by what the hell was going on. How could their youngest son suddenly have girl parts and long hair?

Once Clare was dressed again, it was easy to take the kid back to his room and tuck him in again. He didn’t seem as tired, but he still cozied up under the blanket. He also didn’t seem happy about this new arrangement from how hot his hair felt against his neck to feeling like he suddenly had some sort of “butt in front that peed”. He was willing to accept the idea this was just a dream but then worried that he might’ve unknowingly peed the bed if he was asleep.

Brooke managed to grab a couple of her regular ties to put her son's hair up and out of the way from his shoulder but then he complained that it hurt to lay on. It took some doing but she finally got it placed in a way that he said felt cool enough to sleep.

“Night, mom!”

She lingered in his room even after turning down the lights. She shook her head and sighed, hoping that somehow the idle notion that this was all a dream would be especially true for her.

Eliot was amenable to that as well. He chewed on his nails as he peered in at the kid who used to be his son. No, still his son, no matter how he looked. Sleep didn’t return to either of them easily, but they eventually passed out amidst tiredness and confusion with no theories as to what possibly could’ve happened or what to do about it, except hope morning would bring sense.

[I have a question at the end of the chapter again to help with suggestions for where the story should go. I'm a couple chapters ahead but I love seeding ideas from people as much as possible. Feel free to add an idea which doesn't show up in the options. Thank you for reading!]