This fic is rated PG due to scary content. No slash this time around.
Disclaimer: I don't own Marc Brown's Arthur characters, or anything else that belongs to Marc Brown.
"Arthur Goes Fourth IV: The Fern of the Screw" is the latest chapter in my ongoing, interminable AGF series. Some of the characters in this story are original, and were introduced in the earlier AGF installments. So it may help if you have read those, but it isn't mandatory.
----
They kissed in the doorway, embracing each other tightly, like two lovers who had been separated for years. Snowflakes descended slowly upon Nigel Ratburn's uncovered head and bulky winter coat, but he paid no heed. The object of his affection, a young Costa Rican woman named Carla Fuente, finally pulled her lips away, but only because she felt compelled to speak.
"You've made peace with your sister?" she asked hopefully. She was dressed in a camisole and satin pants, and her long brown hair was somewhat unkempt.
Mr. Ratburn lowered his hands and backed away from Carla slightly. "I'm prepared to make things right between myself and Angela," he said with a tone of formality.
Carla smiled, as if a happy, recurring dream had finally come true.
"I know now that I can never love another woman," Mr. Ratburn continued, his voice filled with passion. "I'll do anything to be with you. But...you're asking me to open a Pandora's Box. You may regret it."
Carla stared at him with fixed determination. Nigel, his expression one of shame and resignation, turned and slowly shuffled away from the entrance to the brownstone apartment.
----
"Never saw the sun shining so bright
Never saw things going so right,
Noticing the days hurrying by
When you're in love, my how they fly."
Fern belted out the concluding words of the Irving Berlin song, Arthur lifted his hands from the piano, Francine laid down her drumsticks, and Alan rested the end of his cello bow on the floor. Van Cooper, seated in his wheelchair in the Read living room, clapped wildly. Next to him sat Sue Ellen, who slapped her knee repeatedly with her right hand, due to the fact that her left arm was in a cast and sling.
"That was really good, guys," Van commended them.
"Now once more, with feeling," Sue Ellen ordered.
In the kitchen, Mr. Read was wearing his chef's hat and apron as he mixed the ingredients for his next perfect souffle. Mrs. Read was feeding strained carrots to Kate, who gurgled happily in her high chair. Pal lay in a corner, holding his paws over his ears and grimacing. D.W. sat at the table, clutching a pink crayon and carefully filling in the lines of a Mary Moo Cow coloring book.
She looked up at her mother. "Mom, can I go see them when they play with Wynton Molasses?"
"Yes, you can," Mrs. Read answered. "And it's Wynton Marsalis. And they're not playing with him. They're going to play in the lobby before his concert."
"I wish Yo Mama would come back," said D.W. enthusiastically. "He's really cool."
"That's Yo-Yo Ma," Mrs. Read corrected her.
Mrs. Read fished out another spoonful of strained carrots, then glimpsed something disturbing through the kitchen window. She set down the spoon and jumped to her feet. "Oh, my goodness!"
"What?" Mr. Read turned his head to look out the window, and gasped.
"I'll go check it out," said Mrs. Read. Grabbing her brown coat from the rack, she threw it on hastily and hurried through the front door...and in the direction of the Tibble house, where an ambulance with lights flashing had just pulled up to the curb.
About ten minutes passed. Mr. Read and D.W. periodically glanced out the kitchen window, curious as to the nature of the medical emergency. When they saw two paramedics carrying a stretcher with a covered, immobile person on it, Mr. Read grabbed his daughter's hand and led her out the front door.
About five more minutes went by.
"I can't give you anything but love, baby," sang Fern with a vacuous grin. "That's the one thing I've got plenty of..."
She stopped in mid-stanza when Mrs. Read stepped into the living room, clutching the Tibble twins, Tommy and Timmy, in her arms. She was followed closely by Mr. Read and D.W. Arthur ceased from playing when he saw the distraught expressions of his parents and the tear-stained faces of the Tibble boys. Alan and Francine quickly followed suit.
"What is it, Mom?" asked Arthur.
"What's wrong, Mrs. Read?" Van inquired.
The aardvark woman bent her knees and placed Tommy and Timmy on the floor. Then she straightened up and spoke solemnly.
"Mrs. Tibble has passed away."
(To be continued...)
Disclaimer: I don't own Marc Brown's Arthur characters, or anything else that belongs to Marc Brown.
"Arthur Goes Fourth IV: The Fern of the Screw" is the latest chapter in my ongoing, interminable AGF series. Some of the characters in this story are original, and were introduced in the earlier AGF installments. So it may help if you have read those, but it isn't mandatory.
----
They kissed in the doorway, embracing each other tightly, like two lovers who had been separated for years. Snowflakes descended slowly upon Nigel Ratburn's uncovered head and bulky winter coat, but he paid no heed. The object of his affection, a young Costa Rican woman named Carla Fuente, finally pulled her lips away, but only because she felt compelled to speak.
"You've made peace with your sister?" she asked hopefully. She was dressed in a camisole and satin pants, and her long brown hair was somewhat unkempt.
Mr. Ratburn lowered his hands and backed away from Carla slightly. "I'm prepared to make things right between myself and Angela," he said with a tone of formality.
Carla smiled, as if a happy, recurring dream had finally come true.
"I know now that I can never love another woman," Mr. Ratburn continued, his voice filled with passion. "I'll do anything to be with you. But...you're asking me to open a Pandora's Box. You may regret it."
Carla stared at him with fixed determination. Nigel, his expression one of shame and resignation, turned and slowly shuffled away from the entrance to the brownstone apartment.
----
"Never saw the sun shining so bright
Never saw things going so right,
Noticing the days hurrying by
When you're in love, my how they fly."
Fern belted out the concluding words of the Irving Berlin song, Arthur lifted his hands from the piano, Francine laid down her drumsticks, and Alan rested the end of his cello bow on the floor. Van Cooper, seated in his wheelchair in the Read living room, clapped wildly. Next to him sat Sue Ellen, who slapped her knee repeatedly with her right hand, due to the fact that her left arm was in a cast and sling.
"That was really good, guys," Van commended them.
"Now once more, with feeling," Sue Ellen ordered.
In the kitchen, Mr. Read was wearing his chef's hat and apron as he mixed the ingredients for his next perfect souffle. Mrs. Read was feeding strained carrots to Kate, who gurgled happily in her high chair. Pal lay in a corner, holding his paws over his ears and grimacing. D.W. sat at the table, clutching a pink crayon and carefully filling in the lines of a Mary Moo Cow coloring book.
She looked up at her mother. "Mom, can I go see them when they play with Wynton Molasses?"
"Yes, you can," Mrs. Read answered. "And it's Wynton Marsalis. And they're not playing with him. They're going to play in the lobby before his concert."
"I wish Yo Mama would come back," said D.W. enthusiastically. "He's really cool."
"That's Yo-Yo Ma," Mrs. Read corrected her.
Mrs. Read fished out another spoonful of strained carrots, then glimpsed something disturbing through the kitchen window. She set down the spoon and jumped to her feet. "Oh, my goodness!"
"What?" Mr. Read turned his head to look out the window, and gasped.
"I'll go check it out," said Mrs. Read. Grabbing her brown coat from the rack, she threw it on hastily and hurried through the front door...and in the direction of the Tibble house, where an ambulance with lights flashing had just pulled up to the curb.
About ten minutes passed. Mr. Read and D.W. periodically glanced out the kitchen window, curious as to the nature of the medical emergency. When they saw two paramedics carrying a stretcher with a covered, immobile person on it, Mr. Read grabbed his daughter's hand and led her out the front door.
About five more minutes went by.
"I can't give you anything but love, baby," sang Fern with a vacuous grin. "That's the one thing I've got plenty of..."
She stopped in mid-stanza when Mrs. Read stepped into the living room, clutching the Tibble twins, Tommy and Timmy, in her arms. She was followed closely by Mr. Read and D.W. Arthur ceased from playing when he saw the distraught expressions of his parents and the tear-stained faces of the Tibble boys. Alan and Francine quickly followed suit.
"What is it, Mom?" asked Arthur.
"What's wrong, Mrs. Read?" Van inquired.
The aardvark woman bent her knees and placed Tommy and Timmy on the floor. Then she straightened up and spoke solemnly.
"Mrs. Tibble has passed away."
(To be continued...)