BLURB:
Adopted from Thailand and never one to fit in with the local bubbas, life has been rough around the edges for Mai Kearns, even before he came out of the closet. Now, almost ten years past the torture of high school, Mai still can't catch a break: he and his parents stand to lose their beloved farm.
How will a “King Weekend” help change Mai’s fate? What has narrator Vin Vanbly been up to for the four weeks he’s been sneaking around Mai’s hometown? At the urging of a ransom note from ‘The Lost Kings,’ Mai embarks on an impossible treasure hunt chasing mystic poetry, Fibonacci Hopscotch, ancient prophecy, the letter ‘x,’ and a confounding, penguin-marching army.
The stakes are high: if Mai fails, the Lost Kings will permanently claim him as their own. Finding the treasure may unlock the secret to saving his family farm. But can this angry farmer risk opening his broken heart before the weekend is over? Mai Kearns has 40 hours to get very, very curious in this second installment of The Lost and Founds.
How will a “King Weekend” help change Mai’s fate? What has narrator Vin Vanbly been up to for the four weeks he’s been sneaking around Mai’s hometown? At the urging of a ransom note from ‘The Lost Kings,’ Mai embarks on an impossible treasure hunt chasing mystic poetry, Fibonacci Hopscotch, ancient prophecy, the letter ‘x,’ and a confounding, penguin-marching army.
The stakes are high: if Mai fails, the Lost Kings will permanently claim him as their own. Finding the treasure may unlock the secret to saving his family farm. But can this angry farmer risk opening his broken heart before the weekend is over? Mai Kearns has 40 hours to get very, very curious in this second installment of The Lost and Founds.
INTERVIEW:
Today we welcome Vin Vanbly, lead in the King Perry and King Mai books.
Interviewer: Today I’m interviewing the confounding and
absurd narrator from the series, The Lost
and Founds, Vin Vanbly. We’re sitting in a--
Vin: Don’t say
that. Don’t say where we’re sitting.
Interviewer: Why
not? It’s just a sandwich shop. A national chain.
Vin (squirming):
Yeah, but I don’t really...I don’t like people knowing things about me. Where I
am. What I’m doing. It makes me nervous.
Interviewer:
You’re kidding. You don’t mind being called confounding and absurd, but you
don’t want anyone to know we’re sitting in a Panera Bread?
Vin (looking
down): I’m just private is all.
Interviewer: We’re
sitting in a Panera Bread, people. He’s eating the broccoli soup from a bread
bowl. He opted for the apple over the chips.
Vin: Aw, c’mon.
What did that accomplish?
Interviewer: Here’s
my first real question. Why are you so damn cagey? So creepy and controlling
about information and details from your life?
Vin: I’m not controlling.
Interviewer: Oh, please.
Vin: I like my
privacy is all. It’s not controlling.
Interviewer: Answer the question, please. Why are you so
exacting on who knows what about you?
Vin: Well, for
the record, I don’t think I am controlling. But privacy is a thing you don’t
think about until you don’t have it. I didn’t get much privacy growing up.
Everyone’s stuff was communal, food, the books for school, clothes, I even
shared a toothbrush with another kid. Privacy is a luxury, a luxury I now enjoy.
I don’t take it for granted.
Interviewer: You
shared a toothbrush?
Vin: See, this is
why I don’t like to talk about my past. People get fixated on all the wrong
details. My childhood was probably like most other peoples’ in the world and
now it’s over, so, let’s just be over discussing it.
Interviewer: You
grew up in foster care, right? I don’t think that was everyone else’s
experience.
Vin: Yeah, I did foster
care. Well, sometimes.
Interviewer: Sometimes?
Vin: I wasn’t
exactly an easy kid to place in a family. I didn’t talk much. Sulked a lot.
Once, I went with this nice couple once for a month. Her name was Talia and his
name was Malik. Their last name was Shepardson
and I wanted them to adopt me so my last name would be Shepardson. They were
afraid I was going to burn their home to the ground. They kept finding these
burned rags dropped out of our second story bedroom window. But they didn’t
know I stayed up at night keeping an eye on the kid who hoarded matches. His
name was Doug and he kept trying to start pigeons on fire by throwing burning
rags out the window. They sent me back because I creeped them out. I never
blamed them. I was a creepy kid, I guess.
Interviewer: But
you were adopted eventually, right?
Vin: Yes.
Interviewer: How
old were you?
Vin: I was
twenty-one.
Interviewer: Twenty-one? That…that doesn’t count as
adoption. You were an adult.
Vin: Yes it does.
I was adopted. We’re family now.
Interviewer: Can
you describe what happened, how you…got adopted?
Vin: No.
Interviewer: No?
Vin: No, thank
you. I am not going to talk about my family in this interview. It would be
rude. And not respecting their privacy.
Interviewer:
Ooookay. How about something else, like hobbies. Do you have hobbies?
Vin: Playing
pool, throwing darts, baking, knitting, orienteering, survivalist skills, urban
foraging, tracking deer, camping, art, getting into buildings that are locked,
travel, origami, juggling, bird watching, controlling the weather with my
brain, kayaking, reading, mycology, tai chi, historical role play, mythology,
collecting rocks, making candles, psychology, archeology, billiards, ping pong,
and I tried paintball but I kept throwing up, so I had to quit. I have other
hobbies, too.
Interviewer: I’m
beginning to understand why you creep people out. That’s quite a random list.
Vin: There. That was
very open and free-flowing of me, wasn’t it? Not at all controlling.
Interviewer: You
mentioned reading. What are you currently reading?
Vin: I don’t want
to tell you. You’ll make it into a thing.
Interviewer: Wow.
Now that is controlling.
Vin: Next
question.
Interviewer: You
also just said you try to control the weather with your brain?
Vin: I just threw
that in there to see if you were paying attention.
Interviewer: Tell
me about your King Weekends.
Vin: No.
Interviewer: No? Perhaps you don’t grasp the concept of an
interview.
Vin: They’re
private. Too private.
Interviewer: According
to some reports, you’re quite public. I have some information that once in New
York City, you --
Vin: No. Stop.
Asking me to talk about King Weekends and then men that I loved is asking me to
dishonor the best weekend of my life. I don’t fall in love easily. I can’t. And
I’m not an easy person to love. I’m prickly. I have been blessed to be loved by some of the finest men on the planet. You
want me to betray those loves by sharing details from when I was in love, when
I was complete and beautiful and loving. When I had purpose in life. I can’t
talk about those men and what we have gone through together.
Interviewer: Alright.
I will respect that. You’re a car mechanic, right? Tell us about that.
Vin: Cars are
boring. Let’s talk about something else.
Interviewer: Okay,
well, hmm. You said you liked to travel. Where do you like to travel?
Vin: Oooh, this
is fun. Okay. Santa Fe, Baltimore, New York, Florence Italy, Little Rock, San
Francisco of course, Yokoham, Japan, Brighton in England, Atlanta is cool. I
like Savannah, Georgia as well. Oh, and small towns all over the Midwest. I
particularly love this one that has a yearly festival called Corn Fest. I
myself have only attended Corn Fest twice. The first time was crazy fun. The
second time, I went alone and it wasn’t the same without…without my friend.
Interviewer: With
all those cities listed, I couldn’t help but notice that Chicago wasn’t on that
list. Didn’t you grow up in Chicago?
Vin: I don’t want
to talk about Chicago.
Interviewer: I’m
running out of interview options. Would it be okay to ask you about the
weather?
Vin: I love
clouds when they are chubby and rolly, cheeks puffed up ready to bawl out their
many woes. I want to tell them, ‘Go ahead and cry chubby clouds. We’re
listening.’ But I also love it when they are spent and exhausted, curled fetal
and drifting peacefully away and the cooling tenderness of post-rain unfurls,
like forgiveness, smelling like periwinkle. The tinge of newness in the air is delicate
like an eggshell after the baby hatched, the sheepish sky opening up to us
again, almost a promise that it will never
be inclement again, which is a lie, but the promise is beautiful, the hope for
transparency, so you believe in the lie because it smells so good and you want
to love the sky again.
Interviewer: Oh
good. At last we’ve found a topic you’ll discuss. The weather.
Vin: I’m also
willing to discuss the capital letter R.
I don’t like it. Thinks it’s so damn hot. Look at me, I’m Regal and Royalty, but
don’t forget I’m Ravenous, too, and I
will devour you because I control Reality.
Interviewer: What
about Raindrops? You just said--
Vin: No,
raindrops are definitely lowercase. You can tell.
Interviewer: And
you have no problem with lowercase r?
Vin: Of course
not. It’s not lowercase r’s fault
that it was raised in a household with Rigidity and Raging Reprobates. Capital R is a shitty father.
Interviewer: Speaking
of fathers, you—
Vin: Nope, I
don’t want to talk about that.
Interviewer: Shocker.
Okay, one last question. If you answer this truthfully, I won’t ask you
anything else. What are you reading right now?
Vin: Promise?
Interviewer: Promise.
Vin: I’m reading
a book about trying to control the weather with your brain.
***
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Edmond Manning is a Minneapolis resident, owner of a
rarely-used gym membership, maker of raspberry jam, and the author of King
Perry and King
Mai. Edmond Manning is the reason it’s sunny outside right now.
