A Pretty Rock
Or, Of Colours, Compounds and Memory Lapses
"That's a pretty rock."
"Is it?" Phoebe asks him quizzically. Arnold nods. He's referring to the rock she has in her hand. She'd just picked it up during recess when everyone was playing in the schoolyard of Walkerville Elementary school. Arnold, being nearby, saw her pick up the rock, and struck by the unusual colours, he commented on it. He tries to explain to her why it is so pretty; he isn't quite sure why he wants her to think it's extremely pretty; it just is suddenly extremely important to him that she finds it just as pretty as he does.
"See here, the colours it has? It's because of the compounds…" He trails off as he tries to remember impossible-sounding names of the multitudes of compounds making up the rock and makes a wry face. It is surprisingly serious for his nine-year old face. "I forget."
He wishes he had a better memory. Rocks came easily to him; he was good in geology, unless it came to the compounds and the trace elements that were found in rocks. He was never really good in chemistry.
Phoebe, however, is unnerved and does not mind this memory lapse. She simply says with confidence, "I bet Dorothy Ann knows."
"Yeah," he says glumly. Conscientious as ever, Phoebe picks up on his sombre mood and she reaches out and grasps his hand to comfort him.
"You don't have to try and impress me with your knowledge of rocks, Arnold," she says, blushing as she continues, "I think you're great just the way you are."
His face takes on a similar shade and he looks down, unsure of what to say. Finally, he stutters out, "Thanks." He looks up and sees her beaming face (still pink from blushing).
"Let's go find Dorothy Ann and ask her what kind of elements and compounds make this rock!" Phoebe jumps up excitedly.
But Arnold has other ideas. Clearing his throat, he asks, "Why don't we just go to the library and find out for ourselves?"
Phoebe looks even more delighted, and a beatific smile graces her face that leaves Arnold with a pit in his stomach. Unfamiliar with this new feeling, and yet somehow strangely pleased, Arnold takes her hand and the two go off in the direction of the library. It is the first of many times when it is just them two, going off together, and it is the beginning of a beautiful romance.
And it all began at the age of nine with a pretty rock.
Fin
Author's Note: Just a oneshot that caught my fancy. Originally I wanted it to be less a 100-word drabble, but it wouldn't stick. Thought I'd capture the childhood cuteness of the ship instead of going with all the angst. :)