How the story should have gone if Drake & Josh wasn't rated Y7.
A one off short short story by Alison Lydon.
Lead characters:
Drake Parker & Josh Nichols
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. No copyright
infringement is intended.
San Diego, California
2005
"FINE!" Josh Nichols screamed to the closed bedroom door. He couldn't believe how
immature his brother Drake was acting over a stupid foam finger. The kind that you buy
at sporting events, it was in the orange Padres color and Josh broke it while he and
Drake got into a scuffle over a damn piece of foam.
It had started not five minutes ago in the living room when Walter put on the Padres
game when the two teenagers realized that they were the ones that got into a fist fight
over the last foam finger sold eight years ago. It was the kind of fight rock and roll
rebellion was made of. The guy with the eye patch who worked at the concession stand
called out for the police.
Josh couldn't believe that his brother took a bunch of his clothes and his cherry red
Fender strat and instead of kicking him out which would have been just as insane, he
kicked himself out.
Over a dumb foam finger that was now broken.
Josh went to the couch to fantasize with his Oprah cardboard cut out that his girlfriend
Mindy Crenshaw had made for him in art class. Mindy knew that Josh admired Oprah,
but Josh thought it best to not to mention if Stedman joined the circus Josh was going to
take all of his money and fly to Chicago and hoped that Ms. W. had an affinity for
younger men.
Mindy would not approve of Josh having feelings regarding anyone else but her.
Besides Oprah ruled and Mindy didn't need to know the rest.
Later:
Drake rubbed his ear. He couldn't go back to sleep since Megan tried to awaken him
by giving him nerve damage by putting a speaker to his ear. Couldn't she just shake him
like a normal person would? Everyone thought he was being stupid over this. Drake
turned on his side and banged the pillow with his fist.
It mattered. It was a big fucking deal.
And it always would be.
The stories of who was right didn't matter. And although Drake might have lied about
the things teenagers lie about curfew excuses, failing grades, exaggerating to the guys
in the gym locker room about how far last night's date went. He wasn't lying about
throwing something at Josh. In fact, he thought he was endearing in a gawky, nerdy kind
of way. But he was never, ever going to admit that to anyone.
It went deeper than anyone could ever hope to understand.
Next day:
Under normal circumstances Audrey and Walter would have appreciated a quiet meal
with the kids, but with Drake and Josh arguing over the dumb foam finger incident it was
totally uncalled for and it would have gone on that way if Josh didn't eat the last of the
cornbread.
"You suck!"
"I hope you go bald!"
"I hope they cancel Oprah!"
"OOH! Take it back."
"Boys!" Audrey shouted as Megan smiled under her breath. But she wasn't going to
tolerate Drake sleeping in her room again. He could sleep in the attic where all the
monsters lived for all she cared.
"Enough. Dinner is over." Walter replied.
"Where do you think you're going?" Drake said to Josh
"My room. I can't believe you won't talk to me."
"Get out of my way. I need to get my clothes for tonight's gig."
"What did I do that was so terrible?" Josh asked. He didn't want to be insecure,
especially in front of Drake, but he couldn't help the words that were falling out of his
mouth.
"That list is too long to make." Drake grabbed a bunch of clothes out of his closet and
proceeded to lock himself in the bathroom so he could get ready.
He seriously needed that gig tonight as music soothed his soul more than anything else
in the world.
"I'm sorry." Josh replied in a sad, frustrated way to yet another closed door.
Josh didn't have to work at the Premiere tonight and Mindy couldn't go out on any more
dates until she finished her speech on Women's Suffrage for her oral communication
class that Josh had nothing to do but sit at the kitchen table and twiddle his thumbs
because that greedy bastard ate the last of the apple strudel and he knew Grammy
made it special for him.
"Josh," Audrey came in the kitchen.
"Yes, Mom?"
"Would you go in the attic and get the pink shoe box by the Christmas lights? I want to
hang up my sun catchers. I'd get the box myself, but your Father and I have to go to a
meeting at Megan's school"
No doubt to probably discuss her brilliance.
"Sure." It felt good to be needed and Josh always got along with Audrey as person.
Whereas even though Drake referred to Walter as Dad, Josh didn't think he really
meant it not deep down where your true feelings counted.
Josh pulled the cord to open the attic and was surprised that Megan didn't have it
rigged. There was much junk up here. Old clothes, toys, his old stack of back issues of
O magazines, although he didn't consider the latter junk. There was Mom's pink shoe
box from Rutherford's department store right next to the broken Operation game. Josh
sat on an old suitcase and opened up the box.
Two intertwined hearts in red and pink, a purple "M" for Megan, a pearly white kitten, an
orange foam finger, an ice cream cone—back up—
Josh's eyes widened at the sight of the sun catcher in the shape of an orange foam
finger. He let it fall out of his hands and back into the box. Of course he'd be the good
son and hang them up on the kitchen windows for his mom so she wouldn't have to do it.
But he was still confused now more than anything.
Drake broke curfew again. But it was a weekend, so he didn't think he'd be grounded
and he really didn't care if he got punished. He put his guitar case on the couch and
headed to the kitchen to grab a drink out of the fridge before sleeping in the attic like he
was the family bat. The juice was expired and Drake turned on the light by the sink to
empty the contents down the drain. And that's when he saw Mom's sun catchers
hanging from all of the windows. He pulled on the suction cup to remove the foam finger
and placed it in his top jeans pocket before heading back into the living room. He didn't
feel like going up to the attic to sleep but his delay in deciding what to do next is what
caused him to bump into Walter who was probably going to take the last of the pie.
"Sorry." Drake mumbled.
"You know you could go back to your room?" Walter suggested as he turned on the light.
"Not if Josh is in there." Drake rubbed his eyes.
"Is there something that you'd like to talk about?" Walter asked. Any good parent would,
right?
"Not really. Night Dad."
"Goodnight, Drake."
It wasn't and it probably never would be as far as his eyes could see.
The flashback you didn't see.
Padres/Giants
Eight years ago
"Do I have change?" The man in his mid thirties asked not really expecting any in return.
"I got you a Reese's cup."
The man smiled. "Thank you." The results of the cell phone call from his wife could wait,
besides she had to take the baby home. It's a good thing he took more money out of the
ATM this morning so they could take a taxi home after the game. Besides all young
boys got into scrapes. What could he say? He was biased and for good reason.
"Are you having a good time, Drake?"
"Sure am, Dad." He replied as he waved his foam finger in the air.
3:00AM
Drake couldn't sleep so he went to the bathroom to take the container of mint flavored
dental floss off the counter and headed back outside to his car. A used dark green 1984
VW bug that he paid for all by himself with his savings from his musical engagements,
Walter and Audrey were helping him more so than Josh with the insurance. Because
Josh's paychecks from the Premiere were more steady. He pulled off his Zero Gravity
miniature laminate and let it fall to the ground. Drake appreciated the silence as he took
the suction cup off of the finger and threaded the dental floss through the loop on top of
the sun catcher and attached it to his rear view mirror. He was never going to talk about
it. Not even if someone put a gun to his head.
So that meant he was going to have do some major pride swallowing.
Damn. Why did life have to be so unfair?
"Josh!" Drake shook him awake.
"What is it?"
"I'm back." Drake climbed back into his bed. He'd get the rest of his things later. He was
too tired to move anymore tonight.
"Drake…" Josh started to say.
"What?"
Maybe some things weren't his business and this whole foam finger incident was
beyond confusing for someone like Drake who on most days always kept his cool
together. But somehow, someway and Josh knew it was not because his brother
confided in anyone—he came back on his own accord and that had to count for
something. It meant a lot to Josh that his brother came back.
That whatever it was in Drake's mind, it was over with as long as Josh played the 'we're
not going to ever talk about this game'. We're going to go back to normal so the parents
won't ask any questions. So the sister could go back to malfunctioning thermostats,
gluing chairs, and sabotaging brownies for the football team. So they could live under
the same room until Josh went to college and Drake went wherever the road would take
him. Josh wondered if Drake was going to cut all the family ties once he graduated high
school? He hoped not. And the only way to be sure that they would remain a family
forever is for Josh to not push the issue regarding the foam finger. It was over with.
Drake was back in their bedroom and life could go back to normal.
"Um, never mind, I lost my train of thought. Good night, Drake. I'll see you tomorrow?"
Josh made it a question.
"Unless I die in my sleep."
And sometimes in the still of the night when the music had stopped and all of the 'hot
(yet empty) girls' were fast asleep after speed talking and journal writing with their
girlfriends and he was alone with his thoughts, despite the talkative sort he shared this
very room with, sometimes Drake Parker wished that baseball game never ended. If he
never woke up, maybe, he could be back at the ballpark with his Dad, waving his foam
finger around. Buy him some peanuts and Cracker Jacks; he didn't care if he never got
back.
Let me root, root root
For the home team
If they don't win
It's a shame
For it's one, two,
Three strikes you're out
At the old ball game!
THE END
Lyrics to Take me out to the Ballgame by Jack Norworth and
Albert Von Tilzer.