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“Guess what?”
Canada looked up from the newspaper and immediately regretted it.
“I’ve had an idea,” said America, mouth full of bacon. The man grabbed his glass of orange juice and downed about a third of it before continuing. “You should learn to play bass. I can play guitar, and we can become a famous rock duo until we fake our deaths.”
This was one of his more rational suggestions. “I don’t think either government would appreciate that kind of attention.”
“Yeah, yeah, but a guy can dream. Unless he has Charcot–Wilbrand syndrome.”
“What?”
“It’s where you can’t dream because of brain damage.”
Canada set down his copy of the New York Times. (He did feel like a sellout, but America didn’t receive Canadian papers here in D.C.) “Show me the Wikipedia page.”
America pulled out a laptop from the bag swung over the back of his chair. “Wish I could have a smartphone,” he muttered as he logged in and began to search up the condition they’d been discussing.
Smartphones were indeed nice to have, though Canada admittedly had recognized the importance of national security when America told him he was gonna have to go back to using a flip phone if he wanted to visit. Location tracking, wi-fi hacking, something about the NSA having his internet connection separated from his neighbors. So, for his brother, he’d surrendered the smartphone, and had brought only his new phone and laptop. (“Apple products won’t fly, lil’ bro. I’d sell the Mac and buy yourself one the CSIS recommends. Get them to check it over for you, too.”)
The Wikipedia page appeared on the laptop screen, and Canada took a bite of his cereal as he skimmed it. “Huh.”
“Huh indeed!” America closed the laptop, and judging from his face, a bit harder than he meant to. “Whoops.”
“Be careful,” said Canada, standing up and grabbing his mask and wallet from the kitchen counter. “Come on, we’re not gonna be able to get any sushi if we don’t get to the market before noon.”
“Fine,” said America, slipping his laptop back into his satchel. He stood up and stretched dramatically. “Time to carpe some diems, my guy.”
“I’m gonna need you to stop appropriating Latin,” sighed Canada.
“Would French be more . . .”
“Don’t say it.”
“ Bien? ”
Canada merely shook his head at his brother’s stupid grin. Today’s jokes were even worse than usual.
“Right, I’ll stop now.” America trudged over through his living room to the front door. “I am really craving sushi.”
“Me too. I think it was because of that guy from the conference yesterday stuffing his face with sushi while we talked about the budget.” Canada shook his head. “One of yours, of course.”
America merely chuckled at the jab as he held the door open. “Made me think the money was going to the wrong place.”
Canada stepped out the front door of America’s (admittedly nice) Virginia home. He was only distracted by the crisp air and falling autumn leaves for a moment before he noticed the squirrel.
“America . . .”
“Huh? What’s--” Canada saw his brother’s eyes widen as soon as he noticed the fattest squirrel they’d ever seen. “It’s . . . magnificent.”
Canada couldn’t manage to find the words to describe the squirrels size and majesty, so he merely swallowed and nodded. “Mhm.”
“We’re both wearing our glasses, right? And we’re awake? This has got to be some kind of hallucination.”
“It’s so big,” muttered Canada as he squatted to get a better look at the squirrel, lounging at the base of a tree in America’s yard.
“The miracle of nature.”
Canada ignored his brother, instead pulling his flip phone from his pocket and opening the low-quality camera. “My God. Just look at him.”
It turned its head sharply to meet Canada’s eyes, and the nation was filled with pride and shame and existential desires. What had he done to earn the right to witness this?
“I’m honored to be here with you right now,” said Canada.
America did not respond. They’d known each other long enough to know that Canada was talking to the squirrel.
“We appreciate your being here today,” added America.
Canada nodded in agreement, closing his phone gently so as not to disturb the creature. “Thank you.”
He looked over to the older nation, who stood watching the creature still.
America gave a two finger salute to the fattest squirrel the boys had ever seen. Then, filled with a newfound reason to live, the two got into the car and headed off to the grocery store.