Chapter 2:
Bean Bomb
All Nights Are Sundays
I was never particularly good at this whole camping or sleeping-outdoors thing. Hell, I thought six months of traveling would’ve taught me something, that watching an absurd amount of survival videos online would help. But nope.
Here I was, pacing around the campfire, rubbing my temple like some useful idea was going to magically drip out of my brain.
“What’s wrong? As far as I know you don’t have telekinesis… if that’s what you’re trying to do.” She was talking while walking behind me, mimicking my steps around the fire.
“Even telekinesis wouldn’t help me right now.”
“Alright, tell me what the problem is.”
“It’s dinner time.”
“That’s not a problem as far as I can tell. I don’t eat, so you don’t have to worry about me.”
“Thanks for pointing out the obvious,” I muttered before stopping and turning toward her. “I’m talking about something much, much worse…”
“Oh… you’re about to have a meltdown, aren’t you?” She asked, glancing at the fire. “Come on, don’t make me guess. I hate when you do that.”
“I lost…”
“Yeah? Go on.”
“…the can opener…” I answered, sitting down on the ground. I grabbed a nearby stick and started poking the fire. And yes, someone would probably say it was a childish thing to do.
“That’s it?” She burst out laughing. “How many times did I tell you no cans?” She continued, clearing her throat.
I remembered that gesture.
She was about to lecture me.
“Beef jerky, high-protein crackers, everything in plastic bags. You never listen to me, do you?”
“Sorry, sorry. I forgot you’re a damn know-it-all hippie expert.” I answered, poking the fire a little harder.
“And yet you still fell in love with me, huh.”
“And you with me, so we’re even.” I pointed at her like if the stick was a sword.
“You stup—you know what? Nevermind” She walked over to the backpack and crouched in front of it. “There is a solution, though I’m not sure it’ll work.”
“Any idea is welcome. Just say it.”
“Remember that time I told you not to put that mug in the microwave because it was going to explode?”
“Uhm… no…”
“Yes you do!”
“Is all of this just an excuse to keep scolding me about old stuff?”
“No, dumbass. We just have to do the same thing… but in a different container.”
“...Which means?”
“We take a can…” While she spoke she tried to open my backpack, her fingers went right through it. “…you take a can…” She kept talking.
There are things that, after a while, you can’t pretend anymore. The change in her voice tone, the look in her eyes right then.
When you really know someone, when someone matters enough that you learn their little gestures, sometimes words aren’t even necessary.
“Yeah, yeah, I got it, I got it.” I said, stepping over the fire and kneeling to rummage through the backpack. “We take the can… and wait.” I set the can on the fire and watched it slowly start to swell.
“Beans?”
“Mhm.”
“Why?”
“They’re cheap.”
“Put something on top, that thing’s gonna fly.”
“What am I supposed to put on top? Do you see a pot lid lying around somewhere?”
“A rock or something heavy, I don’t know.” She answered, looking around the tent. “That chunk of stone.”
“That’s a piece of a gravestone. I’m not using that as a lid.”
“Coward.”
“Huh? Coward my balls.” I answered, going to grab the chunk of rock and placing it on top of the can.
“Wait, wait, wait!” She started waving her arms wildly, like in those movies where the guy’s stranded on an island and spots a helicopter nearby.
“Now what?”
“The pressure won’t have anywhere to go.”
“Wasn’t that the idea? That it would force itself open?”
“Idiot, what I'm trying to say is with the rock sitting on the lid like that, the pressure’s going to push out the sides.”
“So what?” I asked, analyzing how the can had become even more rounded.
“So you just built a bean bomb, Otaru. That thing’s gonna blow up.”
“I just built? We just built, you mean. It was your idea, not mine…” I said, letting out a couple of laughs while I moved behind a tree. “I don’t want to get shredded by beans, so I’m staying right here until it explodes.”
“Just put out the fire and be done with it.”
“Not a chance. It took me forever to get this fire going.”
“Why do you always have to be like this? God, you’re worse than a kid.” She complained, following me to the tree.
Every now and then I peeked around the side of the tree to check on the can. “Bad habits, I guess. Doing something stupid at least got you out of whatever you were thinking about a minute ago, didn’t it?”
She blinked a couple of times. Started to say something. Went quiet for a moment.
“…Brainless idiot…”
“Heh. Always.”
The can exploded before she could say anything else. It wasn’t exactly cinematic, just a loud, dry 'bang!' that would’ve made me jump out of my grave and punch myself in the face if I’d been one of the people buried here.
I wondered if the sound reached all the way down to the inn at the foot of the mountain.
She walked over to what used to be the campfire, stepping through a ridiculous amount of beans scattered across the ground, some even inside the tent and crouched down to look at the blasted can.
Here I was, pacing around the campfire, rubbing my temple like some useful idea was going to magically drip out of my brain.
“What’s wrong? As far as I know you don’t have telekinesis… if that’s what you’re trying to do.” She was talking while walking behind me, mimicking my steps around the fire.
“Even telekinesis wouldn’t help me right now.”
“Alright, tell me what the problem is.”
“It’s dinner time.”
“That’s not a problem as far as I can tell. I don’t eat, so you don’t have to worry about me.”
“Thanks for pointing out the obvious,” I muttered before stopping and turning toward her. “I’m talking about something much, much worse…”
“Oh… you’re about to have a meltdown, aren’t you?” She asked, glancing at the fire. “Come on, don’t make me guess. I hate when you do that.”
“I lost…”
“Yeah? Go on.”
“…the can opener…” I answered, sitting down on the ground. I grabbed a nearby stick and started poking the fire. And yes, someone would probably say it was a childish thing to do.
“That’s it?” She burst out laughing. “How many times did I tell you no cans?” She continued, clearing her throat.
I remembered that gesture.
She was about to lecture me.
“Beef jerky, high-protein crackers, everything in plastic bags. You never listen to me, do you?”
“Sorry, sorry. I forgot you’re a damn know-it-all hippie expert.” I answered, poking the fire a little harder.
“And yet you still fell in love with me, huh.”
“And you with me, so we’re even.” I pointed at her like if the stick was a sword.
“You stup—you know what? Nevermind” She walked over to the backpack and crouched in front of it. “There is a solution, though I’m not sure it’ll work.”
“Any idea is welcome. Just say it.”
“Remember that time I told you not to put that mug in the microwave because it was going to explode?”
“Uhm… no…”
“Yes you do!”
“Is all of this just an excuse to keep scolding me about old stuff?”
“No, dumbass. We just have to do the same thing… but in a different container.”
“...Which means?”
“We take a can…” While she spoke she tried to open my backpack, her fingers went right through it. “…you take a can…” She kept talking.
There are things that, after a while, you can’t pretend anymore. The change in her voice tone, the look in her eyes right then.
When you really know someone, when someone matters enough that you learn their little gestures, sometimes words aren’t even necessary.
“Yeah, yeah, I got it, I got it.” I said, stepping over the fire and kneeling to rummage through the backpack. “We take the can… and wait.” I set the can on the fire and watched it slowly start to swell.
“Beans?”
“Mhm.”
“Why?”
“They’re cheap.”
“Put something on top, that thing’s gonna fly.”
“What am I supposed to put on top? Do you see a pot lid lying around somewhere?”
“A rock or something heavy, I don’t know.” She answered, looking around the tent. “That chunk of stone.”
“That’s a piece of a gravestone. I’m not using that as a lid.”
“Coward.”
“Huh? Coward my balls.” I answered, going to grab the chunk of rock and placing it on top of the can.
“Wait, wait, wait!” She started waving her arms wildly, like in those movies where the guy’s stranded on an island and spots a helicopter nearby.
“Now what?”
“The pressure won’t have anywhere to go.”
“Wasn’t that the idea? That it would force itself open?”
“Idiot, what I'm trying to say is with the rock sitting on the lid like that, the pressure’s going to push out the sides.”
“So what?” I asked, analyzing how the can had become even more rounded.
“So you just built a bean bomb, Otaru. That thing’s gonna blow up.”
“I just built? We just built, you mean. It was your idea, not mine…” I said, letting out a couple of laughs while I moved behind a tree. “I don’t want to get shredded by beans, so I’m staying right here until it explodes.”
“Just put out the fire and be done with it.”
“Not a chance. It took me forever to get this fire going.”
“Why do you always have to be like this? God, you’re worse than a kid.” She complained, following me to the tree.
Every now and then I peeked around the side of the tree to check on the can. “Bad habits, I guess. Doing something stupid at least got you out of whatever you were thinking about a minute ago, didn’t it?”
She blinked a couple of times. Started to say something. Went quiet for a moment.
“…Brainless idiot…”
“Heh. Always.”
The can exploded before she could say anything else. It wasn’t exactly cinematic, just a loud, dry 'bang!' that would’ve made me jump out of my grave and punch myself in the face if I’d been one of the people buried here.
I wondered if the sound reached all the way down to the inn at the foot of the mountain.
She walked over to what used to be the campfire, stepping through a ridiculous amount of beans scattered across the ground, some even inside the tent and crouched down to look at the blasted can.
“Uhm… Otaru…”
“What? Is it safe to come out yet?”
“You really think it’s gonna explode again?”
I walked over next to her. For a while we both stared at the destroyed can like two soldiers looking at a fallen soldier.
"Thank you for you service, Mr. Bean." I said.
“Can you stop being stupid for at least one minute and just lift the rock? I want to see the can properly.”
“You gonna use some secret power you never told me about?”
“Yeah, Otaru. One called common sense.”
So, if I open a dictionary the term would be something like common sense is the ability to judge and reason practically and sensibly about the world, based on spontaneous knowledge acquired through experience and the senses, not through formal learning, allowing one to make logical decisions in everyday life.
In other words, common sense would’ve been noticing that I never bothered to check whether I’d grabbed the can upside down… or that the lid had one of those pull-tabs you’re supposed to yank to open it.
“What? Is it safe to come out yet?”
“You really think it’s gonna explode again?”
I walked over next to her. For a while we both stared at the destroyed can like two soldiers looking at a fallen soldier.
"Thank you for you service, Mr. Bean." I said.
“Can you stop being stupid for at least one minute and just lift the rock? I want to see the can properly.”
“You gonna use some secret power you never told me about?”
“Yeah, Otaru. One called common sense.”
So, if I open a dictionary the term would be something like common sense is the ability to judge and reason practically and sensibly about the world, based on spontaneous knowledge acquired through experience and the senses, not through formal learning, allowing one to make logical decisions in everyday life.
In other words, common sense would’ve been noticing that I never bothered to check whether I’d grabbed the can upside down… or that the lid had one of those pull-tabs you’re supposed to yank to open it.
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