Legends Live On ~ by Patrick Councilor

The Cunningham household was quiet, as it never was before. Joanie wasn't running down the stairs from her bedroom to answer the front door, Howard wasn't on the couch watching the "Untouchables", and Marion wasn't in the kitchen cooking something special. The front door slowly opened and the Fonz slowly walked in and sat in his favorite sofa chair in a half slump. "Boy, do I miss the Cs." He looked over at the table and reflected on one of the first times he sat at that table with the family - The Cunninghams.

"Hey Fonzie! Are you in there? It's me: Vivian!"

"Who is that?" Howard asked.

"That's Vivian, dear," Marion said as she continued eating as if nothing had happened.

"Well I heard that," Howard responded.

"You got a date tonight, Fonz?" Richie asked.

"A 'maybe date'," he answered.

"Fonzie!" the voice from outside echoed again.

"Some people have no class - interrupt a beautiful meal," Fonzie spoke up. He pointed his butter knife at Joanie. "Don't you ever do that, Shortcake."

"Fonzie, are you coming out!"

"Hey!" Fonz yelled, "Would you shut up! We're eating!"

Fonzie smiled at the memories of the times he shared with his favorite middle-class family.

"I was the one who black-balled you, Fonzie," Howard admitted in the empty room of the Leopard Lodge Hall. "You never wanted to be a Leopard. You were just doing this for me. What I don't understand is why you went through all of this."

"You really don't know?"

Howard shook his head.

"You took me in. You're the only family I got Mr. C. I love you."

Fonzie shifted in the sofa chair as he recalled the time when Mr. and Mrs. C. were going to sell the house and move to New York.

"We may move out of the state, but we're not moving out of your life," Mrs. C. promised.

Howard spoke up. "Do you really think that there will come a time when you need us and we won't be there?"

"Fonz," Potsie's face was just inches away from Fonzie's face.

"Aaaaah!" Fonz sprang out of the chair in a twisting leap and landed on his feet. He held his hands out at arm's reach and slowly brought them toward his chest as he closed his hands into fists. He had redeemed his cool. He snatched the front of Potsie's shirt and rolled it into his fist. "Are you crazy?"

"Fonz, I'm sorry. You must have been day dreaming. I didn't mean to scare you." Potsie apologized.

Fonzie looked around. "Nobody heard that, did they?"

"Nobody heard you scream, Fonz. Honest."

Fonzie turned back to him. "I don't recall a scream."

"No Fonz. No scream. I didn't hear a scream." Pots retreated.

"Good." Fonzie let go of his shirt. "Pots, what are you doing here? I'm picking up the C's mail and newspaper."

"Oh, I'm here to hang Mr. C's shop key in the kitchen." He held up the key. "I'm watching his store while he's gone. He didn't want me to keep the key at my house." He headed for the kitchen. "He thought I might lose it."

"While you're here, I'd like to ask you a question. You took psychology, right?"

Potsie walked back in the den. "Yeah. That was easy."

Fonzie's jaw clenched. "That wasn't the question."

"Oh."

"It's Danny. He's staying out late. We don't talk like we used to. He doesn't have time for me anymore. He's been hanging out with the wrong crowd. Could this just be a phase he's going through?"

"Yes." Potsie said nothing more. He just stared at the Fonz.

Fonzie's eyes narrowed. "There better be more to that Pots, or there's going to be more screaming and it won't be me."

"Right, Fonz. Danny is more than likely going through a post-depression being a former orphan who still does not have a mother figure in his life to balance out the guidance that he so desperately needs. On the other hand, he could be going through a pre-depression. Being a former orphan and becoming of the age that is the age for a sibling to think about moving out of his parent's house to start a life of his own. The fear of being without the immediate contact of his only family member may have a deep impact on his psychological being. On the other hand, orphans are forced to grow up all at once and take on more responsibility than most kids of the parallel generation. He could be rebelling against the simple fact of taking the adult role upon himself. On the other hand…"

"Potsie!" Fonzie stopped him. "You're already on the fourth hand. You've only got two hands."

"Oh yeah."

Fonzie headed for the door. "That settles it."

"What? My diagnosis opinions helped?"

Fonzie stopped short of the door. "No, I've decided to drive to California to ask Mr. C."

"Sorry Fonz. I never did grasp psychology. That's why I became an accountant.

Numbers are easy."

"Thanks anyways Pots." Just as Fonzie reached for the door, there was a knock at it.

On the other side of the door, stood Ralph. "What service!" He stepped in.

Fonzie gave him a quick hug. "Ralphie, when did you get into town?"

"I've been back for a few hours. Where are the Cs?"

"California", Potsie and Fonzie said it in unison.

Potsie ran over to greet his old friend. Ralph gave him a hug too. "Pots, you're looking good."

"You too, Ralph."

"Hey," Ralph said. "While there gone, lets short sheet the beds."

Fonzie grinned. "Some things never change."

"Here's a joke for you guys." Ralph held up his hands as if to prepare his friends for the beginning of the joke. "There is a priest talking to these three men: an Italian, a Scottish, and an Irishman. They were talking about their final days when the priest asked what they would like to have said at their funerals. The Italian said, 'I'd like it to be said that I was a great husband and father.' The priest said, 'That's wonderful. And how about you?' The Scotsman said, 'I would like them to say that I was a very giving man.'

The priest nodded and asked the third man. The Irishman thought for a moment and said, 'I would like them to say… Oh my gosh, he's moving!'"

Fonzie and Potsie laughed.

"Even in an empty house, I still got it."

"Guys, I hate to be rude." Fonzie made his way to the door. "But I've got to ask Roger to watch Danny while I head out to California."

"Okay Fonz." Ralph stepped away from the door.

Just as he closed the door behind him, the phone rang. Ralph answered it. "Potsie, run after Fonzie. It's Louisa."

Potsie ran out the door in just enough time to catch Fonzie. When Fonz walked back inside, he could hear Ralph setting up his joke.

"… an Italian, a Scotsman, and an Irishman…"

Fonzie stood there waiting for the phone.

Ralph noticed him standing there. "It really wasn't that funny, Mrs. Delvecchio." He handed the phone to Fonzie.

"Thank you." He put the receiver to his ear. "Aunt Louisa, h…" The Fonz was stopped in his tracks. He couldn't believe what he was just told. He went to sit down in a chair at the dining room table and missed by a foot. He landed hard on his butt.

Ralph and Potsie hurried over to pick him up.

"Joanie's having her baby!" Fonzie announced with the phone away from his ear as if he had forgotten he was on the phone. "JOANIE'S HAVING HER BABY! SHORTCAKE IS HAVING A BABY!"

Potsie slapped him across the face.

The Fonz froze for a moment and then looked at Potsie.

Potsie yelped as he realized what he had just done. "S-sorry Fonz. I thought you were hysterical."

Fonzie stared him down. "I'm about to get hysterical - IF you know what I mean."

"I'm sorry Fonz," Pots repeated.

Fonz broke his stare. "She's having a baby. Little Joanie is having her baby." He walked over to the desk cabinet, opened the fold down desk, put the phone receiver in the cabinet and closed it. The phone cord stretched back to the phone in an obvious way. "Don't buddy every panic." He turned to open the front door and yelled out, "SHORTCAKE IS GOING TO HAVE A SHORTERCAKE!" He turned to Potsie. "Boil some water." He told Ralph, "Tear up some sheets. And let's keep calm about this."

Ralph let out one of his half laughs - half cries as he turned and ran upstairs.

Potsie bounded into the kitchen and by the time he started banging the pots and pans together, he hurried back into the dining area. "Fonz, Joanie's in Chicago."

"Of course she's in Chicago," Fonzie snapped back. "She can't have the baby here from there." Fonzie stopped as he heard what he had just said.

Just then, Ralph came running down stairs with a sheet in his hands.

"That's not…," Fonzie started to ask as Ralph ripped the sheet in half. "…Mr. and Mrs. C's new sheets, is it?"

Ralph let out a short scream as he dropped the torn sheet to the floor.

Fonzie made a fist a few feet from his chest and brought it in closer to his chest to regain his composure as he let his head drop. He took a few moments and then straightened. "Okay. Okay. This was just a little practice run. That's all." He back stepped toward the door. "I'm going to the airport. Aunt Louisa said that no one can get in contact with Chachi. His tour changed and no one knows where he is in California. I'm going to fly over there to find him and get him to Chicago."

"Right Fonz," Potsie said as he watched him head out the door.

Ralph bounded away from the torn sheet. "Pots, the Cs are going to kill me!" He stopped short when he looked out the door. "Hey Potsie, look at this."

Potsie put the pot he was holding down on the dinning room table and hurried over to the door. "Wow, look at the Fonz run. Fonzie! Take your motorcycle! It will be faster!"

"Come on." Ralph suggested, "We'll take my car to catch up with him to give him a ride to the airport."

Potsie commented as he stepped through the doorway, "That's if he doesn't get to the airport before we can catch him."

Ralph closed the door behind them.