In A Most Unusual Way

Chapter Eleven: A Polka Rave?

It was the night of the hottest event in town. Forget the finale of CATS on Broadway--this was bigger and more monumental than ever before. The paper had been screaming the headlines since August.

That's right. You guessed it.

August Higgins And The Polka Dots were coming to Ark.

"And why do we care?" Phoebe asked the front page of The Ark Bark. The paper's title was all wrong for this week. It should have been The Ark Howler. Every page was plastered with invitations to come to the community center for "a night of good ole' fashioned fun and food--lefse and lutefisk included in price of meal!"

Whoever came up with the puns was having a field day. There was a special column entitled "Polka-ing Fun At Our Heritage" and "Those Who've Left Their Mark on Ark" was about church founder Clement Polk.

"The office," Phoebe decided as she stood up from her desk, "has gone batty."

XXX

The cafe staff had gone batty too, as Piper was quickly realizing down at the community center. After spending the better part of the morning setting up tables, Loni had instructed her to scrub them until they could double as mirrors. "After all," she'd said nervously, "everything has to be perfect for tonight. It'll be the biggest rush we've ever had. There are people coming from North Dakota and Wisconsin. So go! Wash! And it had better be good!"

Kay, a tall brunette waitress who looked like a candidate for the cover of Cosmpolitan or at least one of its' knockoffs, sighed. "I swear that Loni's gonna age about twelve years in one day."

"Why is everyone going so nuts about this polka band?" asked Piper.

"It's the only thing that's happened in Ark for about fifteen years. And some music is better than no music, so..." She shrugged. "We smile and yodel."

"We have to yodel?"

The other waitress, Nina, a scrawny redhead who was a dead ringer for a Woodstock hippie, tossed a sponge to Piper and laughed. "You haven't seen the costumes, have you?"

"Costumes?" Piper's heart stopped. "What costumes?"

XXX

"We are leaving in one hour," John shouted up the stairs. "You all had better be ready."

It was hard to hear his message over the electronic dance-pop blaring from Johanna's CD player. It was strange, she realized. All of her life she'd wanted sisters and now she had six Charmed Ones. Even if they wouldn't be around forever, they were giving her a taste of having a big family. She would miss it.

But she wouldn't miss having a free bathroom.

"Toby." Phoebe banged on the door. "Did you accidentally drown yourself?"

"I'm curling my hair."

"There are outlets everywhere!"

"They're all being used."

"You are holding my makeup hostage," Prue said, adding her own cadence to Phoebe's knocking. "I look like I didn't sleep at all."

"Probably," began Cole, "because you didn't."

"Yeah." Prue gave Johanna a death stare. "Someone neglected to tell us that she talks in her sleep."

Last night had most definitely been interesting. Johanna, Cole, and Prue had dragged two cots in from the porch, up the stairs, and fought with them for a good half an hour. Then there had been the issue of finding sheets and comforters, which had sent everyone on a scavenger hunt throughout the Carlson home. Belthazor had given up and zonked out on the couch around midnight, with Toby and Paige following soon after. Prue had finally looked at the unmade cot and dismissed it with a simple "Screw it." Cole collapsed on his after stealing one of Johanna's pillows, the fatigue of a long day at Vast Western Lutheran High School at last overpowering him.

"I'm usually asleep when I'm talking in my sleep, so that means I wouldn't know," croaked Johanna.

"What's with your voice?" Phoebe asked.

She put her hands on her hips. "I nearly coughed up a lung yesterday and it's coming back to bite me." She smacked the laughing Cole. "And it's your fault!"

"Oh, really?" Cole pulled her closer and cupped her chin in his hands.

Johanna had never known the meaning of the word swooning until that very moment. "I've gotta...uh...go change. Into clothes. Into other clothes." She clumsily walked towards her room, bumping into the wall as she went. She shut the door with a half-hearted thunk.

Cole smirked. "That was fun."

"You're gonna give the poor girl a heart attack," said Prue. "And by the way, what's going on with you and Phoebe? Lovers' quarrel?"

"We had a little falling out," Cole admitted.

"I never thought I'd live to see that."

That was the end of that conversation.

The light green and bright orange bedrooms were aflurry with clothes. Paige had spent the day planning possible outfits that said "polka chic," which hadn't gone so well. Eventually she'd given up and thrown together things that shouted "I'm from California and there, polka isn't something to shout about!"

"This is so weird," Pipita said, picking up a sleeveless teal blouse with ruffles down the front. "I feel like...I don't know. You're my younger sister but I don't know anything about you."

"There's not much to know," said Paige. "I think the other Piper and Phoebe pretty much filled you in when I was unconscious."

Pipita laughed. "It's just strange to know that I've got another sister out there somewhere."

"I wouldn't advise going looking for her, though," Piper said as she held out a black dress with gold beads along the V-neck for consideration. "All things in time, you know. What do you think of this?"

"Too Vegas for you," appraised Paige. She took it. "But perfect for me."

Toby, who'd been evicted from the bathroom by herself and Prue, stuck her head into the room. "I have no clothes."

"Funny, I haven't seen you walking around naked lately," said Pipita.

"Correction. I have no clothes suitable for a polka concert, which, by the way, is an insult to music everywhere."

"I don't think it matters what you wear," Paige said. "I'm beginning to think this is more like a rave."

"A polka rave," repeated Toby.

All four burst into laughter.

"The only person in this room that has to be concerned about what they're wearing," Piper began, "is me."

"Why?" asked Toby.

"It's...it's terrible. Never mind."

"Come on. Now that you've started, you've got to finish."

"Fine," Piper growled. "All of the waitresses at the cafe have to wear lederhosen."

"Leder-whaten?" Paige asked, afraid to find out the answer.

"Khaki shorts with ugly suspender and ugly white puffy blouses and green hats with feathers stuck in them. Toby! Stop laughing! This is not funny! Same to you, Pipita. Just remember, this'll be happening to you in less than two years."

Her double abrutly stopped chortling. "Great."

Belthazor appeared in the doorway to the orange bedroom. "John sent me up here to tell you that the bus is leaving in forty-five minutes."

"Bus?" Pipita asked.

"I'm guessing he means Johanna and Marilyn's Jeeps, the Taurus, and the Buick," said Piper. "And speaking of, there are three people in this family and, like, seven vehicles. What's up with that?"

"Maybe they break a lot," Paige said. "I don't even think the big white car runs."

"We'll find out tonight," said Belthazor. "And, Phoebe, by the way? I would have no complaints about you walking around naked."

"Yuck," Piper, Pipita, and Paige said in perfect unison.

XXX

At exactly six o'clock, the six Halliwells, two Coles, and three Carlsons gathered outside the house to split up the vehicles.

Phoebe rubbed her bare arms. "Can we snap this up?"

"You should've worn a coat," Marilyn said.

"Or sleeves," added Prue.

The tank-top clad witch folded her arms and said nothing more.

John clapped his hands together. From his position at the top of the steps, he looked like a general prepping his troops on what to expect in the coming battle. "Okay," he shouted. "The community center is about a block--"

"A.K.A. the length of the entire town," Phoebe said under her breath.

"--to the northeast of here. Johanna knows where it is if you city folks don't know much about how to get around in small places like this. Marilyn and I are going to head over in the pickup, but I figured that you young people might want to walk. It'd be good exercise and you'd get to see some of the sights."

What followed could have formed a very interesting Mad Lib.

"Walk?" screeched the Phoebes.

"Sights?" Paige snorted.

"City folks?" repeated Prue.

"The pickup," Marilyn sighed.

"Young people?" Cole asked incredulously.

John paused, an unsure expression on his face. "Is that okay?"

"It's fine, Dad," said Johanna. "You and Mom go and we'll be there soon."

The eldest Carlsons boarded the black and red monstrosity. With the roar of a jet engine, it sprang to life and rolled out of the driveway.

"We're walking?" Toby demanded. "Johanna, these heels are only fit for a dance floor, not a gravel road."

"Same here," said Phoebe, holding out a turquoise-sandalled foot to prove her point.

"Mine too," Pipita said.

"You're wearing flats," said Belthazor.

"Yes, but they're velvet. Velvet plus gravel equals bad."

"Do you honestly think I'd make you walk?" Johanna asked. "I've got two-and-a-half-inch heels on these boots." She pulled a key out of the pocket of her dark denim skirt. "I got the key to the other pickup, my lieblings."

And in that short sentence, Johanna became intensely popular.

XXX

"We're he-ere..." Johanna flung open the squeaky driver's side door. "You guys all right back there?"

"Fine," Piper coughed.

It had been a challenge, but all nine people had been able to fit into the rusty brown and white truck. Phoebe, Toby, and Pipita had crammed themselves into the front, leaving Cole, Belthazor, Piper, Paige, and Prue to fight for spaces in the back.

"Let me out of here," said Pipita, nearly leaping into her older self's arms. "I think I lost half my head on that last bump."

Toby rubbed her head. "Ow."

"She's gotten better since when first we got here," said Phoebe.

"And you survived?" Prue asked amazedly.

"Lay off," said Johanna, slinging her bulging red bag over her right shoulder. "Go eat. Drink. Be merry."

"What's on the menu for tonight?" asked Belthazor.

Piper smiled tightly. "Lutefisk and lefse."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't ask. I don't know what it is any more than you do."

"Weren't you one of the ones that catered this spread?"Cole questioned.

"I don't cook. I wait tables and I clean. The only one that Loni trusts enough to cook," said Piper, "is Loni."

"Why is it that whenever I get a job as a chef, I never get to actually be a chef?" Pipita asked.

"That's one of the great mysteries of the ages." Piper checked her watch. "Crap. I've gotta go get my lederhosen."

Cole blinked twice. "Your what?"

"Toby will explain."

And the nine entered the community center, girding their loins for what was to be.

A/N: I had to put polka in here somewhere. You can't live in the Midwest and not do polka. It's the national sport for those over fifty-five. Don't believe me? Watch "The Big Joe Polka Show" on RFD-TV sometime..."rural America's most important network" (or so they say).

Here's something interesting and pointless I did today: I made a trailer/promo for this fic on MovieMaker. No video clips, just stills, but a lot of transitions and a song that my laptop already had on it, since I'm not really sure how to do the internet music thing just yet. (Be gentle. It took me awhile to get used to typing.)

And yes, said trailer/promo includes a polka band member, his accordion, and his lederhosen.