Along with putting up chapter four, I also revised and edited the whole story. It was riddled with errors. Damn typos. *takes out machine gun and annihilates grammar check* Worthless piece of crap. So anyway, I do not own final fantasy or any of the characters. I do not exactly own the other characters either, they are all strictly based on my friends and me. I do own Ma'am, however I did have a certain math teacher in mind when creating her *evil grin*. Please don't sue me, you'd be wasting your time unless you desperately wanted a pile of video games, used books, and cheap stuffed animals. Thanks to all who reviewed, I love getting feedback! Now I shall shut up so that you might read my now typo-free story. Enjoy! :-D
The entire room gleamed with silver and grey. It was huge and busy, full of impatient people pushing their way to the front of lines. Snatches of yelled conversation could be heard over the general babble of too many people talking at once, and a loudspeaker blaring announcements was almost completely lost in the din. The air tasted sterile, and the smell of courtesy peanuts wafted on the air. All the normal sights and sounds of a busy airport in on a Sunday in June.
"What are you guys going to do while we're gone," my ten-year-old brother Freddy asked.
"Yeah," said his friend Dave. "What on earth is better than going to Legoland, California?"
"Many things," said my best friend Ana.
"Yeah, like their stupid band concert," said Allie, Ana's little sister by a year. She had wanted to stay home with us, but Ana's mom told her she had no good reason to bum around Stoneyfield with us for a week and a half. So, despite Ana and my protests in her favor, she was going.
"It's regionals Allie!" cried Robbie, another friend of mine, and the older brother of Dave, with much gusto. "We could all get scholarships from this!"
"Okay," said Allie reluctantly. "I guess you guys won't do anything much anyway."
"Guys, come here," called Robbie's mom. "Your babysitter is here to pick you up."
Many thoughts ran through my mind the first time I saw that babysitter, the most prominent being, oh shit.
She was the picture of a crabby old lady. She had shoulder-length, white curly hair, a face that was more wrinkled than your average raisin, boobs that sagged to below her waistline, and a chunky granny body, skin filled with crevices deeper than the Grand Canyon. To top it all off, she sported an ugly floral dress and brown orthopedic loafers. She had a sour look on her face that I assumed was from having to look at herself in the mirror every day. Ana moaned, Robbie clung to my arm and fake cried. "Goddamnit", I swore, just loudly enough for Ana and Robbie to hear.
"Amen to your goddamnit," said Robbie in an equally quiet voice.
"Hello," said the old lady, in a voice that sounded like a cross between Mrs. Doubtfire and Seymour from Final Fantasy. "Well, why don't you tell me your names?"
She didn't seem so bad. Mrs. Doubtfire wasn't evil. But she was a man. I shuddered. While I debated over whether or not to tell her my real name, Robbie answered the question. "Um, I'm Robbie, this is Ana," he gestured at Ana, "and this is Rebecca," he gestured at me.
"Don't say "um" all the time! Speak proper English! And what happened to the girls? Were their tongues ripped out?" She snapped.
"No," I answered. Make that Seymour in some of his more maniacal periods, specifically when he's on the brink of insanity.
"That was a rhetorical question!" she nearly yelled. I half expected (and hoped) that she would blow out her pacemaker or something with all her shouting. "And you shall refer to your elders as 'sir' or 'ma'am'!" She begun to rant and yell some more.
"Uh, permission to speak, s-I mean ma'am!" cried Ana, military style. I tried very hard to keep a strait face. So did Robbie, but he failed miserably.
"Yes?" said the babysitter. It occurred to me that we didn't know her name, but it also occurred to me that I didn't want to be the sorry soul who asked. "You, boy, Robbie, what are you smirking at!" she barked. Robbie's grin was wiped off his face like rain off of a car's windshield.
Ana might just have saved his life by saying, "Our families are getting on their flight soon."
"Yeah," I said quickly, "We'd like to see them off, if that's alright."
"Fine," snapped the babysitter, who I would forever think of as ma'am. We never did find out her name. "But be quick about it. I haven't got all the time in the world, you know, and I still have to cook you children dinner."
Robbie opened his mouth to protest to being called a child, but I cuffed him around the head, and murmured out of the corner of my mouth, "c'mon."
Grudgingly, Robbie obliged, and he followed Ana and me toward our families' gate until we were out of earshot. "I can't believe we have to spend a week with that batty old witch!" Ana shouted.
"Sshh," Robbie and I hissed.
"Sorry," said Ana. "But how could our parents do this to us!"
"Easy," I said, turning to her. "She acts like an adorable little old lady for them, and then becomes 'Commando Ma'am' for us."
"That…" Robbie said something nasty in Hebrew that would be pointless to translate, because if I did it would be censored. "We're not really going to say goodbye to our parents are we? Because their flight left five minutes ago."
"No shit, Sherlock," I grumbled. I was in a less than joyful mood, and Robbie was driving me nuts, even more so than usual. "I guess we just keep up the military b.s. until we can get rid of her somehow.
"How?" groaned Ana, exasperated.
"We'll think of something." I answered, dejectedly, hoping that I was right.
We headed back toward Ma'am, who eyed us suspiciously. "Damn," I said, snapping my fingers and doing a terrible job of acting disappointed. "We just missed them." As soon as I saw the look on her face, I realized my mistake and regretted it immediately. We all had to listen to a lecture constantly gravitating toward the phrase, "I never want to hear that vulgar language in my presence again!" all the way back to her car (which smelled like a dentist's office) and the entire way home. I had never quite realized how long the trip from the airport to our house actually was.
We were all staying at my house, because it was my mother that had found the babysitter. I thought this would be cool, just me, Ana, Robbie and the house all by ourselves for nearly two weeks. I had obviously forgotten to take the babysitter into consideration.
Finally, we pulled into the driveway. Ma'am's ranting stopped immediately, and she crooned, "we're here!" all Mrs. Doubtfire-like again. "Now, all I need to do is get out that spare key your darling mother gave me and…oh no, where is it?" She dug around frantically in her purse. We watched and waited in the back seat. The first rule of ejecting a babysitter was vigilant observation at all times.
She continued to search for the key muttering things under her breath. "Where did I put it? Did she even give me a key? I could have sworn she did. It's the Alzheimer's, I know it. It runs in the family. That stupid doctor didn't know what he was talking about."
"It's alright," I broke in, having had enough of her ramblings. "I can get in through the garage without a key. I've been doing it for years. No problemo." Ma'am nodded, but still looked rather paranoid and continued talking to herself as she put the parking brake on and followed me to the garage. I kept the cover for the key panel down as I punched in the code from muscle memory. The last thing I needed was a maniac granny that knew how to get into my house.
There was a piece of metal that sat on top of my dad's toolbox in the garage that I could easily pry open the lock with. I was essentially breaking in to my own home, but Ma'am didn't say anything, just followed the three of us through the door, laundry room and bathroom, and into the living room, where she promptly recovered, dropping her luggage on the ground and saying to Robbie, "well, aren't you going to be a gentleman and offer to carry my bags upstairs? And you," she barked, motioning toward me, "this is your house, isn't it? Aren't you going to show me to my room?"
"Sure, right this way," I said, struggling to keep my cool. I contented myself with adding under my breath, "you sexist mental granny."
"What was that?"
"I said, the guest room is right here." Luckily, by that point we had climbed the stairs and were actually standing in front of the guest room. "You can hang your stuff in the closet, and put it in these drawers." Suddenly, I had an idea. I wasn't sure if it would work, and it was only a temporary solution. A lot was being left to luck. But it was a ray of light on an otherwise dark horizon, and I jumped at the chance. "Why don't you unpack, and I'll go down to the kitchen and pour you a glass of milk?" Robbie gave me a searching look behind Ma'am's back. Trust me, I mouthed, and he nodded.
"Oh, that would be so nice, dearie," gushed Ma'am in a voice that would have made me puke if not for the comfort of my plan. "You know, milk has a lot of calcium in it. Calcium makes strong bones, so you don't get osteoporosis! Another disease that runs in my family," she added under her breath and commenced to talk to herself again. I bolted out of the room and down the stairs, Robbie in tow.
"What are you going to do?" asked Robbie breathlessly as I sprinted toward the refrigerator.
"What do you mean?" breathed Ana. "Do you have a plan, Rebecca?" I nodded at her, and put my finger over my lips, as I fluidly took out the milk and emptied the bottle in the kitchen sink. I then dashed lightly out to the garage and threw the bottle into the recycling bin. Even in a crisis, I'm still obsessed with the environment.
I gingerly closed the laundry room door behind me, so as not to arouse the suspicion of Ma'am, and sat down at the table by Ana and Robbie, who were both wearing expectant looks on their faces. Later, I mouthed, as I heard the heavy, clunking steps of Ma'am coming down the stairs.
I waited until she hobbled into the kitchen before jumping up from my seat, throwing the chair to the floor for dramatic effect. "Alas," I cried, "there seems to be no more milk in the house! What are we going to do? We'll all get osteo…ostea…weak bones and die! What shall we do? What shall we do?" I never have and never will claim to be a good actor in tight situations. I tend to stay cool until the last second, when I usually make a fool out of myself.
Luckily, there was a bigger fool than me in that kitchen, and she lapped it all up like a thirsty dog. "I'll run out to Shop Rite and get some immediately!" shouted Ma'am, as though she were announcing that she was giving her life to save the world. "Point me to the nearest food store!"
I wrote down directions to a Shop Rite two counties away from us on a neon post-it note and handed it to Ma'am. "Make haste!" shouted Ana. "All of our health is at stake!" I caught her eye and we just barely stopped from laughing.
"Yes," I muttered under my breath. Everything was going according to plan. Then I turned to Ma'am and said, "When you get back, ring the doorbell three times, so we know it's you, and we'll come to the front door."
"Okay, here I go!" And she rushed out to her car as fast as her little granny legs could carry her. We watched her car pull out of the driveway.
"Good one!" said Ana, slapping me five. "You gave her Shop Rite in Eddison! That gives us three hours, minimum before she gets back."
"Yeah, but who's the psycho now?" Robbie asked me. "Nice drama Porky Pig."
"Shut up," I grunted. "At least I thought of something."
"Yeah, but that only gives us three hours!" whined Robbie. "We'll have to think of something else while she's out!"
"I think," said Ana, plopping down on the couch, "that we should chill out, enjoy this while it lasts, and wait for a solution to present itself."
"Amen, Ana," I said, sitting down next to her. "Final Fantasy X, anyone?"
"Yeah, okay," responded Ana, "We can take turns battling."
"Me first," I called, turning on my PS2 and going for the controller.
"No way, chilling was my idea. I go first!" protested Ana. We both dove for the controller, but Ana got there first. "Ha ha!" she laughed, sticking her tongue out at me. "Me first! Wait, it's not working," she said, furiously pressing the start button, but the opening credits kept rolling. I snatched up the other controller, pressed start, and headed into the load screen.
"Ha to you, you had the second controller." Ana crossed her arms, leaned back against the couch and pretended to pout. All three of us laughed, and I chose the second memory card and loaded. I was on my third time through the game. I had last saved in the calm lands, on my way to Mt. Gagazet.
I started to wander around. "I'm gonna find the chocobo lady, and ride to the monster arena to get monster capturing equipment. Ana, you can go after I get one battle. We'll just capture all the monsters in the calm lands now, so I don't have to go back and do it later when I'm getting the magus sisters." I controlled my mini-Tidus, heading toward the chocobo lady, who was actually quite nearby. As I walked, the whirring on my PS2 started getting louder. I frowned, but figured it was just getting warmed up or something.
"Man, that Playstation is noisy," complained Robbie. "The Gamecube is so much better! It doesn't make any noise at all!" I ignored him and kept walking. The screen seized up suddenly, and the whirring got louder.
"I didn't know there was a cut scene here," said Ana. "I thought you said we were just going to battle."
"That's the funny thing," I told her. "There is no cut scene here." I let it stay like that for a few more seconds, then bent over to hit the reset button on my PS2. I never made it to the button, because there was a bright flash that made me jump back, my heart skipping a beat. I had to close my eyes, the light was blinding. It went away very quickly, so I opened my eyes. And saw seven familiar people, looking stunned, sitting on my living room floor.
"Damn you old man," muttered Tidus.