A/N: Finally another chapter! This one's rather short, and I'll hopefully have more of Melody and the music school in the next. A big thanks to TheWeasleyBoys, Dan Sickles, 02AngelBaby75, gildedbutterfly16 and Pet Archer for your comments! I know there are still a lot of good stories here that I haven't read yet ... Yes, the boss' last sentence was a reference to Narnia (my brother's writing a Narnia story – he's a good writer and much faster at it than I am, but so far he doesn't want to post on this site – I'll have to convince him that even Shakespeare wrote fanfiction, or something). Also I fixed a spelling mistake from the last chapter. Happy reading!
3. Moving Out
Once I got back to Flatblock 18A, O little brothers, I viddied my pee and em packing box after box into a rented auto.
"Bon joor," I said, which is French for hello. "How goes it?"
Em made a sighing shoom, put down the box she carried, and patted me on the gulliver real bezoomny. "I'm going to miss you, son," she said, her goloss all trembly.
I didn't want her to start platching right then and there so I said, "Yes yes yes. Me as well. But I will not be more than fifteen minutes away, and right near the consy-vurry-tory."
"The what, son? Oh, the conservatory. Oh yes." She took me in her rookers and like squeezed me tight.
"Ouch," I said. I had to break free, brothers, because right then I viddied and slooshied something quite distressing.
One of our neighbours, a fat greasy sort of moodge, was holding the door open for my pee who carried a bolshy box of my belongings. That was not the distressing part. This was the distressing part: The neighbour veck, as Pee was passing, growled in a low goloss, "Don't tell me that miserable hooligan is finally leaving! For once we'll have some peace and quiet around here."
Instead of defending his one and only son, my pee just shrugged his pletchoes and let out a single little slovo—"Evidently."
My father was not alike in rasoodock to me, oh no, only in plott. He had the same brown voloss (with a bit of grey now) and blue glazzies, but he had not a dook of an idea how to govoreet with like confidence. In fact, with his humble chumble grumbles and his meekness and his fair is fair sort of slovos, he seemed more like old Pete than like me. Well, if Pete wanted another papa, I was about ready to give him mine.
So instead of govoreeting with Pee and Em during the auto-ride, I stared out at the sky. The Luna was showing its pimply plott quite molodoy in the day, as the sun was not yet set. I thought of Pete, with his dobby zheena Georgina, both of them rabbiting full time, him an accountant at State Marine Insurance and her a secretary. That was one way to be. But I had the messel there was more to my jeezny than that. I no longer wanted to fight with nozhes or britvas, but neither did I want to rabbit all day and grow grey and miserable like old Em and Pee, like some kind of clockwork toy that other lewdies can wind up and set down and watch it itty on until it stops. No no no, I did not want that.
...
The auto lurched rrrr and ground to a stop itself. I viddied we had arrived. Flatblock Z looked a lot like Flatblock A, only the buildings were real brick and not so grazhny. Ten or twenty purple like fluffy flowers dotted the lawn. Harmeet, that is, Harmony Singh, poked his spectacled gulliver out the door, then clackety clack ran down the steps to greet us. He was all harmony and peace and like civility with my pee and em, smiling how d'ye do and all that cal. To me he said, "Hi hi Alex! Long time no viddy!"—crasting, or rather borrowing, my nadsat way of speech.
I said hi hi hi back and went to work unpacking veshches. Inside the flat was a little hallway with a rug on the floor for wiping your sabogs on and two pictures on the wall. I took a minoota to smot at the first one more closely. Harmony was in it, a very malenky Harmony it was true, and next to him malenky Melody with a ribbon in her hair. They could not be more than four years old. Behind them were a veck wearing business platties and a cheena in a foreign-looking red wrappy dress, which I pony is called a sari. In this cheena's arms was a baddiwad baby creeching to high heavens, his rot open like an O and his fisties waving.
Harm goolied up behind me and said in a loud goloss that made me jump: "Yes, that's my family. Jaydeep's having a temper tantrum, as usual."
"Ah," I said. "Is that the malenky baby in the photo? Your bratty?"
He smecked a little. "Sure looks bratty, doesn't he?"
"I mean brother," I explained. "Bratty means brother."
He nodded yes yes but then frowned. "Jay and his friends talk sort of like you. Of course, they're not as smart. They're just trying to sound badass."
Brothers, I did not see how the badness of rear ends was related to the slovos of nadsats, but I let him govoreet on.
"...I'm a little concerned for him, actually. He's only sixteen and I'm afraid he's in a sort of gang."
"Oh?" I asked, interessovated now. "What sort of gang?"
He shook his gulliver back and forth. "Never you mind. You don't know about that sort of stuff and you probably don't want to know."
I had an in-grin at his like innocence, but I said nothing. Nothing, that is, until I viddied the other photo. This one showed the smiling litso of a pretty blond ptitsa with sunglasses. "Oh ho ho," I said. "Is this old Harmony's devotchka?"
"My name is Harmeet," he grumbled back, but that was not why his litso was turning red.
"Welly welly well! Old Harmony and Miss Sunny California, eh? I bet she eats like healthy vegetables and rides a bicycle everywhere."
At this Harm said, rather sharp, "She can't ride a bicycle, she's blind."
I went "Oh?" because this was sad, but I couldn't help thinking of a messel that made me smeck, which was: "Well then, Harmony brother, she's spared the agony of having to viddy you!"
But Harmony only said, "I don't know if she wants to viddy me much anyway. She's had a difficult life... But if you'd quit making jokes about how ugly I am and finish unpacking, Alex, that would be greatly appreciated." He was more melancholy than razdraz this time. So I obeyed his like soviet and finished unpacking.
...
Pee and Em were waiting outside to say their goodbyes, which Em did in a weepy sniffly sort of way. Pee just patted me on the back and govoreeted, "Now you'll be on your best behaviour, son, won't you?"
I fixed him with a sharp glazzy. "Evidently!"
And then they were gone. I walked inside on my oddy knocky only to hear the ring bring brring of a phone and Harmeet saying, "What? Alex? Oh yes—just a minute!"
