Disclaimer: I don't own Ed, Edd, N Eddy!
Title: When Old Collides With New
Summary: May's not the brightest bulb in the box. She knows that. Even still, she's wanted to get into college for years now. Everybody pitches in, and nobody's sure who that surprises most- them or the Kankers. But it's not easy, having a small town like Peach Creek collide with the rest of the world.
...
May's not the brightest bulb in the box, and she's certainly not the smartest kid out there. She knows that.
From her perspective, being the smart person around town meant being like Double D, which May didn't want to be. Not that Double D was bad or anything- underneath all that finickiness and order and all those long words May didn't understand, he was actually a pretty sweet guy. But, even still, that was a lot of finickiness and vocabulary to go through, and May didn't have to be the brightest bulb in the box to know that she would never be like that. Ever.
So, no. She's not the smartest person in town. She's probably in the bottom five of smart people, to be totally honest. That's never really bothered her. In a town like Peach Creek, simplicity is the key to happiness.
She's not even sure why she wants to go to college, honestly. Nobody asked you if you were official or if you had a degree to do whatever you were doing. They called you over, served you some food, and paid you to do what you said you could do. Schooling didn't matter. It was just one of those Peach Creek things nobody ever questioned.
She just wanted to feel that feeling they talk about, you know? The commercials with the people going on and on about it were some of her favorites. The self-success. The pride. That feeling that you could do anything now that you've jumped over this really big hurdle. That type of thing.
She's not even sure what she's wants to do, for gosh sake. She's that clueless. It's practically a pipe dream.
So when she mentions it to her sisters, she doesn't expect anything to come out of it. For one thing, it's during one of their infamous arguments. May might as well be invisible when they're really going at it. She might as well be background noise in her own stinkin' life.
Lee and Marie stopped mid-yell to stare at her a long moment, then turn to each other and nod in agreement over something. Then they start yelling at each other again.
Routine is as routine does, or something like that. Random sisterly agreements during their otherwise argumentative lives are pretty normal. May doesn't pay it any mind.
The next day, May doesn't expect either of them to remember her unanticipated declaration. Heck, she doesn't even remember it the next morning, it's that small.
She was sitting there on the couch, debating whether or not she should try to legally obtain dinner or go the not-so-legal route (like anyone cared if it was legal, right?) and set up the usual hunting traps when Lee and Marie come waltzing through the door with job applications in their hands.
"What are those?" She asked, eyeing the papers like they were made of poison. To her older sisters, they were made of poison. How many times had they sworn-off getting jobs over the years? How many counselors had they drove into fits over the years declaring as such? (Answer; none. That would require having counselors in the school that weren't of the Charlie Brown variety).
"Job applications." Lee says it like it's obvious. "What else?"
"I know that. I meant why do you have them on you." She pulls her legs up for her sisters to sit down. "You hate job applications. And the thought of having jobs. Y'know, of the 'legal' variety."
Marie flops onto the open space and shrugs, digging an old chewed-up pencil out of her pocket. "College ain't cheap."
"Huh?"
"We looked it up-" Which, when translated, roughly meant 'we threatened/beat the info outta some poor idiot.' "And this stuff ain't cheap. It's gonna take a lotta work ta' pull it off."
"Wait, you're gettin' jobs? For me?" Had this been a different set of sisters, May would've teared up and hugged them. But they were Kankers, and Kankers weren't criers or huggers.
"Duh. Imagine, a Kanker gettin' through college." Lee visibly puffed up at the thought. "You'd be the first ever! Ma and Pop'll be so proud."
The idea makes her grin widen in excitement. "They might even come visit us sometime!"
"'Xactly. But we needs more than money ta' pull this off."
"Yeah." Marie picked up where Lee left off, poking her shoulder roughly. "You need a tutor. College's eat that whole 'good grades' stuff right up."
"So here's the deal. We get jobs, and you get a tutor. Deal?"
Lee held out a hand. May slapped it in a sideways high-five. "Deal."
For those of you who thought aiming for college was a pretty simple idea, there's something you need to understand about Peach Creek; everybody has their place and their own set routines about things like education.
Like Double D, for example. He was the only one of the Ed's who would even bother to put himself through the hassle of a higher education, but the end result was the same; they were going to end up as some sort of not-so-legal hardware store owners or traveling handymen together, because, while the end results were never very pretty, the Ed's were a hands-on group of people- in both life and work, and the mutated thinga-ma-jigs they made always worked.
Kevin was going to end up one of those sports guys who goes in on a full scholarship and is passed behind closed doors to keep him on the team(s?) he was on. All he'd ever have to do is show up and turn in papers once in a blue moon. Nazz's future was still up in the air in terms of career, but there wasn't a single person in Peach Creek who didn't doubt she'd be just fine no matter what it was she decided on. She was cool like that.
Johnny? Well, nobody ever really knew what 2X4 was thinking, but it was the general consensus that he was going to end up sharing a house- and a job- with Plank (Come'on, just think about it. They practically came from the same trunk, they were so close.) Something most likely wood related. Or, May didn't know, something artsy. The boy certainly had plenty of imagination.
Jimmy was going to be one of those famous fashion designers who retired and became well-dressed librarians to pass the time, or something. Sarah- something that required lot's of bossiness and yelling. So... a famous runway model, or something. Maybe a movie director. The army? You got the point. Rolf had dropped out as soon as possible and bought a bigger farm using money he'd earned from years of doing odd jobs around the town for the tiniest amount of money more than technically should have been paid to get them done (or so the rumor went) for his family to retire from schooling and become a permanent farmhand.
But that was it. No more, no less. They had their roles in their little society and they stuck to 'em. Double D had called it something once, but May hadn't really been listening. Something about confusion? Well, it confused May, that was for sure. (Confucius, she learned later.)
The Kankers were trailer trash. They'd never denied that. May was supposed to skip the whole 'job' scene and marry someone willing to be the main breadmaker. May didn't think that was entirely smart, considering her options- Ed, Ed, Ed- in that area. Marie had a genius and Lee had a con-man, but all she had was a guy.
A guy who was a lot like her...
No. She shook her head. A higher education would have to be obtained. She wouldn't be able to survive otherwise.
(And, okay, that was a total lie. May knew how to hunt, fish, and scavenge like any other redneck this side of still living, but still. She didn't like killing critters if she could help it.)
Try to follow May's line of thinking for a second.
May needed a tutor. Tutors were supposed to be smart and love teaching. There wasn't anyone out there in their humble little Cul-De-Sac who was smarter than Double D.
Sure, she could call some tutor out of the phone books and pay them money to teach her junk, but what was the point? Double D was free, flexible, and he loved taking on hard cases.
(And Peach Creek didn't have any phone books, since everyone knew each other's numbers, but May digressed.)
So it made perfect sense to ask him for help. That is, until she walked up to the Ed's lunch table during lunch period, math book tucked away in her arms.
The Ed's were a unit. Going to Double D meant going to Ed and Eddy. And, sure, they weren't going to hang around while they were studying or anything, but she was dead certain they would be waiting to pick him up just outside the trailer park, which would only lead to more awkwardness all the way around.
But, still. A deals a deal.
"I need to be tutored." She held out the book like it were a peace offering. "Please?"
"While I'm always up to expanding the mind," He said uneasily, eyeing her as though she were a ticking time bomb. "This seems a little... out of nowhere, don't you agree?"
He had a point. She'd never gotten anything higher than a C before in her life. Even still, she shrugged. "I wanna go to college. Marie says you gotta be smart for them to let you in."
Double D almost choked on his food. He swallowed and fixed her an unreadable look. "It's a little late in your academic career for something like that, don't you think?"
May didn't answer. She stared at him, patiently waiting for him to either say something else or give in. He did the second.
He sighed and gestured to the spot across from him. "Take a seat."
She stepped up next to the lunch table and waited for Ed to shift over. He did so, looking both grateful for the attention (he didn't get nearly enough of the positive variety at home) and disgusted by the closeness of the opposite sex. Eddy muttered a complaint under his breath.
Ed's fear of cooties was adorable when she was younger, but over the years its lost its charm. May can't help but wonder sometimes if the dirt-caked young man is gay, or one of those other fancy-sounding sexuality's people have come up with, but, even if he is, she doesn't mind. If anything, she'd work as a good cover story for him, don't you think?
May's never been picky. This is no exception.
Lee manages to wrangle herself a job at the car shop on the edge of Peach Creek. May hadn't known Peach Creek even had a car shop. After all, it didn't make a lot of sense. Nobody in Peach Creek drove- not even the one's with cars.
The Cul-De-Sac had been raised walking, running, and biking. May could say, with dead certainty, that, not counting the school buses, none of the kids she knew had been inside a vehicle for longer than an hour or two in their entire lives. It just didn't make a lot of sense to drive when everything was within walking distance.
Lee shrugs, wiping her sweaty hands on a rag that she lets hang off her shoulder. She's wearing one of those full-piece blue jumpsuits you see in the movies with the front unzipped halfway down her chest to reveal the white undershirt she's wearing. She pulls the look off rather nicely. "The boss said somethin' about small-time car company's bringin' their cars here when they need fixin', but that's about it."
She can't stop herself from saying it. "Why?"
Lee shrugs again. "Dunno. I guess we're cheaper'n the rest, or somethin'."
May swings her legs. She's perched on the main service counter, homework left open next to her. "I didn't know we had any car company's around here." She said finally.
Her older sister laughs, long and bitter. She grins, baring her crooked and yellow teeth as she props open the hood of a car that's been left abandoned since before any of them were born. "We don't."
Words spreads quickly around Peach Creek, so everyone knows within the next few days of her asking Double D for help.
She gets a few weird looks, but no one says anything. When it came to the Kanker's, everybody minds their own dang business. That's just how Peach Creek works.
"Hand 'em over." Sarah says one day, hand outstretched.
May stepped back a step, hiding her college application form's behind her back with a snarl. "Make me."
Normally that would be more than enough to drive the person away, but this is Sarah, and everybody knew that if there was ever a person out there who didn't know the meaning of 'no', it was Sarah.
"Not the forms, dummy." She says harshly, opening and closing her outstretched hand in emphasis. "A spare set of clothes."
It's pretty stinkin' easy to confuse May and she knows it, but that doesn't make the slightest bit of sense right now. "Huh?"
Sarah sighed in irritation. "You can't visit the campus you wanna go to looking like a bum. You need an edge." She explained slowly, gritting her teeth.
"We'll bring them back." Jimmy chips in, her shadow like always. "And we're very skilled tailors. I promise."
"Oh." It finally clicks. They're trying to help. "Uh, sure. I'll bring my best pair tomorrow." She promises with a wide grin. No one is stupid enough to dare cross a Kanker and expect to get away with it when everyone knows your name, face, address, and phone number, so May is confident it will all work out.
Marie got a job as a kid's sports coach in the city. Marie hated the thought of getting a job almost as much as she hated going to the city. She was doomed to be fired from the start.
At first, she was almost excited by the prospect. Marie liked playing sports, and she liked kids- she just wasn't very good with them.
She knew something was wrong when she got to the field. All the kids- minus one or two- were going on and on about teamwork and good sportsmanship and that they were all winners where it counted, no matter what. They sounded like an old television PSA.
Marie's heart went out to them, in her own way. These kids had obviously never had any life experience. Life was about struggling to the top of the pack through nitty-gritty competition and violence. Teamwork was the temporary truce between a group of kids who were stuck together to beat the crud out of the other team. These kids obviously had no clue what's really going on around them. So Marie did what she thought best; she trained the crud out of them to help them learn some life lessons. Yeah, the kids complained their little hearts out, but it was their first stinking day. Marie would complain too.
Practice ended, and the group of kids dispersed. Most of the kids were led away to cars by their parents (both of which confused the heck out of Marie) and a select few walked themselves home, but one stayed behind and sat by the curb. Marie, obligated to make sure all of the youngsters were safely transported off the grounds, tossed a baseball around alone for a little while before grabbing herself a new pack of gum to chew from the vending machine and then walking over to see what was wrong.
"My mom's picking me up. She has to walk me home."
Marie is a Peach Creek kid. Peach Creek has the least amount of involved adults ever. Like, they've probably broken some record by now. They're all either absent (the Kankers), trying but never really making the cut (Double D), or constant, mean, and unwanted (Eddy, Ed, etc). You didn't have a mom or dad who walked you home after the game in Peach Creek. You walked yourself or you walked with your buddies.
So it made perfect sense to Marie when she asked, not unkindly, "How far away do you live?" Maybe there was an age limit on the bus passes around here, or something.
His answer- "Just a couple of blocks."- threw her for a loop. So much so that, once her sisters finally got home, Marie started her story with one key phrase, a phrase that seemed to sum up all of her experiences with the city.
"City kids are weird."
"What's the big deal? Walk yourself home." She made to turn and stomp away, but he grabbed her wrist.
"I can't! I need supervision and mom said she had to work late and and..." He looked at her hopefully.
Marie wasn't swayed. "Walk yourself home. It won't kill ya'."
"B-But what about strangers?"
Marie had to think about that one. She'd never encountered a real stranger before. Heck, Peach Creek didn't even get tourists. "Carry a big stick on you." She said finally. "And beat the crud outta anyone who tries anythin'."
Well, it made sense to her, at least. The boy whimpered.
"Walk me home? Please."
"What was it you just said about strangers?" She barely even knew this kid. She didn't want his house address.
"Please! You can supervise me." He gave her a pleading look.
She was conflicted for a long moment. Her instincts told her to beat him up for disobeying the hierarchy of big-kid-tells-little-kid-what-to-do-and-little-kid-does-it, but she had a job and her sister's future on the line, so she didn't. She eventually nodded.
"Fine."
So she walked with him. It was far from smooth sailing, however. He stopped at every single street corner and looked left, right, then left again for cars, whereas Marie, raised in an environment that firmly supported the notion that once you were taller than the tire of the vehicle in question you were almost impossible to miss and therefore in the clear, walked right through them. Besides, most adults were at work or school, or something. Marie didn't really know what grown-ups did during regular work hours, but she was pretty sure that they had better things to do with their time than to run down two random kids walking home.
She stopped once she reached his neighborhood. "Walk yourself the rest of the way. Y'know, so I can't stalk you, or whatever."
Sounds reasonable, right? Marie thought so, but apparently the kid didn't agree. "But I'm not supposed to-"
"Walk home alone. I know. But I'm still a stranger, remember? 'Sides, it's only one block, maybe two."
The little kid thought about it for a long moment. "You could walk backwards? That way you won't see where I live."
Marie mentally boggled at the thought and the lack of logic behind it, but she was bored and irritated and she decided that the simplest answer to her predicament was to do what the kid said now and beat him up later. Like, when she wasn't his coach, later.
Marie walked him home backwards, muttering complaints under her breath, then went home and told the story to her sisters ("City kids are weird.").
Two days later her boss (who, oddly enough, wasn't the person who'd interviewed her) called her into his office with a bone to pick. Apparently, in the big city, it wasn't okay for her to walk a kid three whole blocks. Not even if you walked backwards so you couldn't get his street address.
"This is a respectable business, Kanker!" He slammed his fist on the table. "It's bad enough I have to stoop so low as to hire one of you Peach Creek nobodies, but now this? You listen to me, Kanker. This kind of behavior may be normal in your one-horse town, but this city is ten times better than anything you've come across in your life and we don't let things like this slide you-"
And that's when Marie decked him.
He didn't threaten any lawsuits or say he was going to call the police like angry bosses do in the few movies Marie had seen over the years. He obviously seemed to think she didn't have anything worth suing for. Instead, he said that she would never walk into any of his baseball diamonds ever again for hitting him.
Marie went for the truth at a time like this, as she had been raised. She didn't want to set foot in any of his stupid practice grounds. The place effin' sucked, the coaches sucked, he sucked, and the kids were a bunch of soft so-and-so's who'd never make it a day in the real world. Then she let herself be escorted out the door by the waiting security guard.
"Sorry, sis." She said gruffly, balling her fists. "I couldn't control myself."
"Meh. Forget him." Lee said, paging through an old magazine they'd all looked through countless times before. "He was a real jerk."
"Yeah, but he kinda had a point. It was pretty stupid 'a me to think his parents would be cool with it." Not that they had a whole lot of experience with parents, or anything.
"Doesn't give 'em an excuse to be a jerk. There's plenty 'a jobs out there, Marie. You'll be reemployed by the end of the month, just you wait."
"I sure hope so." She turned to May. "You're not mad at me, are ya'?"
"Who, me?" She thought about it for a long moment, then shook her head. "Nah. I woulda done the same thing."
"Yeah, and that's the problem." She says, leaning against the couch. "We can't go all out against guys like that. Not if you wanna go to college. Not if you wanna get a job."
May's never had to learn how to control her temper before. The idea is daunting, even for her, the most relaxed of the sisters. She's not quite sure how to take the idea, at first.
Peach Creek didn't have any local colleges. Which, in a Peach Creek kind of way, made sense.
Having been raised to wander wherever they wanted without worry, May wasn't the least bit concerned over a four-hour bus ride to the nearest town with a good local college. Marie, jobless, tagged along, and Lee, bored stiff with nothing to do at her job, invited herself along. May was grateful for the company.
Despite the nervous energy buzzing in the air, May feels pretty dang confident in herself. They'd managed to scrape together some of the money, and Double D's tutoring is really starting to pay off. She even got her very own, for the first time ever, B plus on a test.
Besides, it's just a visit. It'll be awhile before the actual nervousness'll kick in.
It's still kinda exciting, though. She hasn't gone this far away from Peach Creek since they'd chased the Ed's up and down the countryside back when they were in Middle School (and, even then, no one spoke of that half-a-month anyway. Some things were best left in the past) and this is the longest any of them had ever been in a vehicle together. It's new experiences all the way around.
"Marie and I'll get outta your way." Lee said, jerking her thumb behind her. "If ya' need us, we'll be wandering 'round."
"Get me a souvenir!" May calls after them, then walks the rest of the way to the college.
She was soon rushed to an auditorium for a seriously long-winded speech it took all of her newly-learned self-control not to sleep through. She wanted to, she really, really did, but everybody was looking so stiff and alert and awake, and she didn't want to look like a jerk on her first day in a college, even if she's not technically in college yet.
After the speech, people could wander the campus or go speak to the person who ran the place. May wanted to call him the principal, but in a place as fancy as this, they probably had some fancy name for him.
The not-principal took one look at her, raised an eyebrow, and said. "You're kidding, right?" May left without a word.
The part that really sucked was that the place wasn't really all that fancy. The paint was chipped and the stones were cracked and the professors didn't have half the supplies they needed. But May, being from Peach Creek- the town of no colleges- couldn't complain. It wasn't in her right too.
She bumped into a student (or student-to-be?) on the way out. She muttered a vague apology under her breath. He grunted something back before stomping away. May didn't know it meant but said thank you anyway.
She met up with her sisters and waited for the bus. Lee hogged three of the seats, stretched out on her back. Marie grumbled in annoyance and leaned away. May sat on the far end, balled up fists kept neatly in her lap.
"Hey, Lee?"
"Yup?"
"What's a hick?"
Beneath her bangs, Lee's brow furrowed. "Where'd ya' hear that?"
"One of the college boys said it. I think he was talkin' to me."
"Was he cute?" Marie demanded. May racked her brains.
"Not really. Kinda scruffy lookin', and not in a good way."
"Huh." Lee grunts. " I dunno. Kinda sounds like a fancy hiccup."
"Maybe." It hadn't sounded like he was hiccuping, that's for sure. It'd sounded like he was mad.
"Fancy college people have fancy hiccups?" Marie echoed. "Geez; I hope not. May wouldn't last a day if it were true."
The bus driver turned around in his seat. "Where you ladies headed?"
"Peach Creek station." That, at least, they had in their little town.
His face pinched. "Where the hell is Peach Creek?"
May couldn't help but feel like the world echoed his statement.
"Double D, what's a hick?"
Double D glared at her disapprovingly over his book- probably because they were studying history and she just randomly interrupted him. Again- then slowly marked his page and closed it, setting the book aside for later. "And where, pray tell, did you hear that?"
"Some college boy said it to me. Lee said it was a fancy hiccup, but I didn't think so. He sounded mad."
The boy blinks at her. "Forgive my saying so, but your sister is a very strange person."
"Yeah, I know." May nods, swinging her legs. "It's part of her charm, I think."
"I'll take your word for it." He says, frowning. Double D sighs. "Hick is another way of saying redneck, May. Trailer trash. Hillbillies."
"Oh." That makes a lot more sense than what Lee had tried to sell them on. What Lee had tried to sell herself on. May's brow furrowed. "I've never heard 'a that one before."
Double D shrugs, looking both irritable and annoyed all at once. The look fits him, honestly. "It's never truly stuck. Not around here, at least."
"Huh." She says. "Maybe the fad hasn't reached us yet."
"That's definitely a possibility." Double D agrees, nodding. "We're... behind the times around here. At least, in some ways, we are."
No one says anything for a long moment, but May feels a certain kind of air materializing around them, the kind that spoke of unhappy conversations with unhappy endings.
"Double D?"
He swallows a bit. "Yes, May?"
"Is Peach Creek a hick town?"
He doesn't say anything for a long moment, and May wonders if she's crossed a line. The idea doesn't bother her like it would some people. Stomping over lines was one of the things Kanker's did best.
"Yes." He says finally. "Yes, yes, we are. But, judging by the college you went to visit, so was his."
"Oh. Okay." Another long, awkward pause. "I don't get it." Which, with her steadily rising grades, actually meant something now. "Why're people so dang uptight about where people are from, Double D?"
"Well, May, it..."
"And don't give me any of those silly kid answers." She cut him off. "Be straight with me." May was a big girl now. She could handle whatever life had to throw at her, no sweat.
"It's... complicated." He sighed and drummed his fingers against the hard cover of his history book. "Have you ever heard of The Trail Of Tears and the other relocation's of the Native Americans?"
May nodded. History was one of her best subjects. "'Course. We really sucked."
"This is not unlike that, really. Only with a lot less death involved. And bullets." He grimaces. "People want other people to stay in the places they've marked out for them, no matter who was there first or where we truly are from, and, instead of force, now they use words to send us back to where we 'belong.'"
"But why?"
"Because, May." He sighs again, looking ten years older than he already does. "People are scared of change. Having a bunch of people suddenly flooding into the world from a 'forgotten' town like Peach Creek and not hiding their faces no matter how hard people try to get them too is a big change. Fear, basically."
"Well, that's a stupid thing to be afraid of." She declares eventually, sticking out her chin. "I mean, it'd be one thing if we came out with guns and missing eyes, or I dunno, a cult-thingy, but..."
Double D blinked at her. Then, after a long moment, he begins to laugh in earnest, clutching her shoulder for support so he doesn't fall over. "I apologize. I just keeping finding myself surprised by the notion that you- a Kanker, the trailer trash amongst trailer trash- seems to understand how the world works- or, rather, how it should work- better than some of the most gifted minds of our time." He wipes a tear from his eye. "It's... intriguing."
"Uh, thanks? I guess?"
"Think nothing of it. The world- oddly enough- could certainly use a few more Kankers."
Lee had worked at the repair shop for almost a year now and had fixed, unsurprisingly, zero cars sine she'd started.
Which worked for her, don't get her wrong. It was boring, but it was something to do with her afternoons, and the pay was pretty dang good for a woman still in High School (People in Peach Creek- if they paid you- usually paid more than they technically had too. It was a hospitality thing, and a tradition.), so Lee isn't complaining. If things get too dull, she can always call up her sisters to liven it up a little. It's that simple.
But then Rolf comes rumbling up in his stupid tractor miss-mash Double D and the other Ed's had built for him ages ago, looking cross at the interruption to his daily routine. "Kanker sister!" He calls down, because the thing is seriously huge. "Rolf's tractor makes noises it shouldn't, and the Ed boys are currently unable to stop by and fix it. Can you fix it?"
Lee shrugs and pops her gum. "Probably not."
His frown deepens. "Rolf does not have time for this. If you cannot fix Rolf's tractor, perhaps one of your coworkers?"
"What coworkers? I practically run this place." Now that Lee thought about it, she hadn't seen hide nor hair of her manager since she'd been hired. If it weren't for the weekly checks she's been receiving, she'd wonder if she'd been left for dead entirely. "You do realize you're probably the only guy in Peach Creek who needs a repair person, right?"
"How does one plan on 'running' this business if you can't even fix a tractor?" Rolf snapped.
Lee shrugged again. "I can't fix squat, but that ain't the point. "S all for the paycheck."
"And what, pray tell, could you possibly need a paycheck for, Kanker sister? You rob another of the chance at their dream job for your own sick entertainment?"
Right. Like Lee gave a darn about that. "Hey, I'm gettin' my little sister into college. Anythin' else can go rot, for all I care."
Rolf stared at her a long moment. Then, he sighed, closing his eyes, and reined in his temper.
"Fine then. Rolf will teach you how to fix cars." He paused. "But only to help the cause of getting the youngest Kanker sister into schooling Rolf has no interest in personally."
Lee, under her curly mane, showed surprise at the farmer's attitude and helpfulness, but she was to proud to say so aloud. "Yeah, sure, whatever."
May didn't know what surprised her more; actually getting into a college (not the one she'd first visited, thank goodness) or the surprise party the Cul-De-Sac threw her for making it.
Now that she thought about it though, she was fairly sure the part that had surprised her the most was when Ed- big, dumb, happy Ed- came up, gave her a congratulatory hug, then pulled away like he'd been burned.
"Cooties, Double D!"
"I would have to say so." Double D went along with it, grinning at him slyly (a look which didn't suit him in the least). "You know, there's only one cure for a case as severe as yours."
"Anything, Double D!"
"Alrighty then..." He dug through his pockets and pulled out a sticky note pad and pencil, tongue sticking out the side of his mouth in concentration. "I would prescribe a through scrubbing with soap in the hottest water your body can stand. Lukewarm, in your- mostly bath-less- case."
"No! Anything but that!" Ed burst out of his shoes in shock. "No bath for Ed!"
May reached out and patted his shoulder. "There, there, big guy. Nobody's gonna make ya' take a bath. Double D's just bein' Double D."
"B-But- Cooties!" He whimpered.
"You learn to live with 'em." She replied, as though the advice were sage-worthy advice instead of a simple answer to a really dumb question. "Go on, now. I coulda sworn I saw a gravy bowl out there that was just for you."
The big male visibly perked up and went in search of the bowl, rubbing the shoulder she'd touched sheepishly in hopes of rubbing off the 'disease.'
"That was rather nice of you, May." Double D commented, looking the slightest bit proud, like it somehow had something to do with his tutoring or something that she'd been nice to her semi-friend.
"Yeah, well, he was gonna freak out. I didn't want him getting in trouble for ruining the party or something because he was freaking out."
"And what a party it is." He scanned the mass amounts of food, drink, and utensils scattered about his once-clean lawn with a mild grimace. "And the strange thing is, I mean it. Even with the mess."
"Yeah, I know what ya' mean. Feels like I did somethin' important." She swung her legs- a habit she'd gained to help appease her boredom while doing homework- with a small frown. "Sure wish mom and dad coulda come though. Haven't seen either of 'em in person in forever."
"I'm sure they're very sorry to have missed it." He says, a beat too late. They both know it's a lie. "Well, I for one am more than ready to see what the world has to offer me. Who knows what all lies beyond these state lines? What adventures me and my comrades in arms will have? The dangers and failures we will overcome?"
"All the germs you'll encounter?" May adds purposely, eyebrow raised, if only to watch the young man squirm.
"...I was hoping to avoid that thought, but thank you. I needed that extra oomph of anxiety."
"I'm not sorry." She says, and she's not lying.
"I don't expect you to be. We all have to face our fears sometime."
Eddy and Kevin are arguing over who gets the largest jawbreaker. Sarah's yelling at Ed for lord only knew what this time; Jimmy trying to restrain her from the sidelines without actually touching her and getting in the way. Johnny laughs at a joke Plank's just told. Rolf is advising Nazz on the best way to grow a certain kind of flower while Nazz takes notes in a sparkly pink notebook with a handwriting that's so dainty and neat May doubts she could puzzle through it by herself. (Nazz is also the only person in Peach Creek who knows and uses cursive on a daily basis, which doesn't help any).
It's all so familiar May can practically tell what the other is going to say next (not counting Plank, whom May was lost without a translator) like she's heard it all before because she has heard it all before; Nazz has been trying to grow all kinds of flowers ever since she developed a black thumb somewhere around puberty which she refuses to admit to and swears is a lie, and everyone knew that Sarah's been yelling at Ed ever since she was old enough to yell. Jimmy's always had a bad record when it comes to avoiding injuries- and don't get her wrong, the kids got the highest pain tolerance around because of that and that's really cool- and he's always tried to avoid unnecessary contact, if only to save himself some excess pain. Eddy and Kevin had been arguing over jawbreakers since the shorter boy developed his sweet tooth.
It's almost like a scratched up record on an old record player; always redoing the same old bits, never getting to the next track before someone stomps over and rips the needle off.
"Hey, Double D? It's never gonna be this nice on the outside, is it?"
"If by nice you mean familiar and safe, then no. But, in it's own way, that's the draw of it."
May's never locked her door before in her life. The Cul-De-Sac haven't been locking their doors since the Ed's stopped being public menaces. That night, however, she turns the broken lock on the trailer house door anyway, if only to get into the swing of things.
May gets the bus fare she needs as a goodbye gift from the other kids of the Cul-De-Sac, which is really nice. She doesn't have to worry about lugging around a bunch of bags neither; everything she owns solely fits into a small string backpack. She tries not to think about the fact that soon Peach Creek will really be empty now that the new adults are doing exactly what the old adults did- leaving-, but not forgotten, not anymore, not with people who were going to be professional ballplayers and big name farmers and movie directors coming out of it, but the thought keeps nitpicking her. She'll forget about it for a little while, and then bam! It's there again.
She doesn't want to lose this, but it's not really something she could keep, either.
"Write us a letter when you get there." Lee demands, using her curls to hide any and all emotion she may or may not be feeling about May leaving and if she'll be missed. "We'll come visit after you get settled in, and you better come back and see us 'round thanksgiving."
"Of course I will." What was better for thanksgiving dinner than fresh fish straight out of the creek? May's missing it already. She reaches out and gives her older sister an awkward goodbye hug.
Marie, never one for sentimentality, offers a fist for her to bump. May does, and finds herself swept up into an even more awkward hug.
"Hey, did you know they got colleges for art and music and stuff?" Marie says once they pull away, sounding honestly excited. "I might try and get into one 'a those places, once we get the cash." She shrugs. "I mean, I can draw, so..."
The idea is certainly tempting. Two Kankers- or maybe even three, if the contemplative air around Lee as she listens to Marie prattle on about her own future means anything- in and out of college is two more than the world is expecting, and May's always liked proving society wrong.
It's really early in the morning, so everyone else is at home; sleeping. There's no big goodbye or sappy cards or anything like in the movies; just the smell of exhaust from the bus and the hard pit in her stomach telling her it's her first time she's ever gotten on the bus alone before and also the first time she's ever left town without the company of her sisters, and that's not going to be okay for awhile yet.
May would be lying if she said she didn't look back as the bus pulled away.
Author's Note: So.. no real plot, character development, or permanent resolution. I'm on a roll!
I kinda feel like one of those PSA's you see on TV and in High School, but the idea wouldn't leave me alone, and it's not entirely bad or anything- just a tidge cliche- so I'm not complaining.
Also, my 150th fanfiction! Woohooo!
-Mandaree1
No flames! Don't like don't read! Review!
