Title: Of Mountains and Milk
Author: SP
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nickelodeon and Dan Schneider and whoever else own everything.
Rating: PG, I think.
Summary: Why does that song calm him down?
Author's
Notes: This is a present for lone_wo1f. I hope you like it!
Eight-year-old Steve sat on the old, decrepit sofa in the family living room. He was pressed up against the arm of it, as far from Father as he could get. Some kind of nature special was playing on the TV--or maybe it was a history special. Either way, it wasn't something Steve wanted to watch. Steve had never been allowed to watch any of the TV shows his classmates always talked about--Mrs. Flanders' Neighborhood back in kindergarten and Super Rangers now. Father said they weren't educational enough.
"Steven," Father said, suddenly and severely, "I found something in your bedroom."
Steve gulped. There was a lot in his room that Father wouldn't approve of. Whatever it was that he found, it couldn't be good.
"Do you know what I found?"
Steve shook his head. "N-no father."
Father's expression darkened. "Well. I found a box of Doodle Cakes, stuffed with empty wrappers. You know what I've told you about junk food. You're already a fat, disgusting boy. You don't NEED SWEETS!" Father was yelling by this point. Steve winced and cowered as his father roared, "I TOLD YOU LAST TIME, IF I CAUGHT YOU WITH JUNK FOOD AGAIN, I'D SEND YOU AWAY THIS SUMMER SO THAT YOU'D LOSE WEIGHT ONE WAY OR ANOTHER!" Steve was practically a ball in the corner of the couch. "WELL, PACK YOUR BAGS! YOU'RE GOING!"
Steve was stunned. He'd never known how much his father was ashamed of him for being a fat kid. He thought his father just wanted him to be an educated, normal kid. Well, fine then.
"Nothing to say to that?" Father asked.
And that was the last straw for Steve.
"Fine!" he yelled, "I don't even care!" Then he jumped up off the sofa and ran out the door.
Steve stomped down the street angrily, not aware of where he was going. On the way to who-knew-where, he yelled at that baby-four-year-old from down the street, Susie, threw a rotten apple at a passing mail man and kicked Mrs. Johnson's dog, Fritz.
Finally, he found himself outside a house with a familiar green door.
He banged on the door, three loud, angry knocks, then when it opened, he burst into tears.
The woman who'd opened the door (Great Auntie Mae) opened her arms and Steve rushed into them. Auntie Mae led Steve inside, humming soothingly to calm him down.
After a few moments, Steve started singing along, "She'll be coming round the mountain when she comes."
Auntie Mae smiled at him. "That's my boy." She sat him down at the table and set a glass of milk in front of him. "Now, tell me what's wrong, honey."
And even though he knew he'd have to go away in just a few short weeks, and even though he knew his father was disappointed in him, at that moment, in Auntie Mae's kitchen, with a glass of milk in front of him and the echoes of her humming ringing in his ears, Steve felt safe.