I own nothing!
I slept in my own room, my lies still burdening me, making it impossible to sleep in Jazz's room the way I used to, but with my mind made up. I absolutely must tell Mom and Dad in the morning. If I didn't, who knew what would happen?
Chapter 24: A Disturbing Lunch: Episode One
Jazz was reading a book, Surviving Adolescence Through Therapy, as I ate my cereal. She used her book to hide her face from the sparks which came from an invention Mom was working on. I gasped as my spoon went through my hand, before hiding it under the table. Mom got finished with the invention as my hand resumed normal tangability.
"Okay! Two days and it's done!" Mom declared, looking up. This was in reference to the fact that she'd finished it in an impressive two days, starting with buying the equipment for making it. Dad shouted in response, announcing its name, the Fenton Finder, and reminding me, yet again, why I should avoid that piece of equipment if I told them. It would use satellites to track ghosts. My resolve from the previous night was fading.
I interrupted with, "It uses what to track what?" Technically, he had just implied that it messed with satellites world-wide, and hacked into the military GPS system, which was illegal. Us civilians only got access to GPS systems which were a few feet off.
Dad opened the main program on the Finder, and started the system. The machine pronounced, :Welcome to the Fenton Finder. A ghost is near. Walk forward: Crap. I was in trouble, officially. I hoped that they wouldn't track me down before I could explain things. I flattened myself against the wall. The machine said, :Ghost located. Thank you for using the Fenton Finder.:
Dad glared at the machine, and said, "What? That can't be right!" If he had been looking at me as he declared his unbelief, he would have changed his opinion, because it was at that moment that I lost visibility.
I gulped, and decided it was time to bring the topic up, and tell them about the accident. "Actually, I need to tell you guys something." I dreaded their reaction. Unfortunately, just as I plucked the courage up, Jazz interrupted.
"That's not all you need, Danny. You need guidance, and parents who can provide it." I gulped. Clearly, last night had put her in a mood for supporting me in her own way. She probably thought that would grab their attention, and make them listen to me.
Mom tried to interrupt what was starting to sound like a lecture from their daughter. "Sweetie, I know what we do doesn't make sense sometimes, but you're only…" Mom probably should have known not to comment using that line. It always annoyed Jazz. I believed that saying that was useless. Jazz had been taking care of me, mentally and physically, for much longer than Mom had. She was more mature than that, beyond a doubt.
She was cut off by an indignant Jazz, who hated being reminded of her "Youth and immaturity", as some people called it. "Sixteen, biologically. But psychologically, I am an adult, and I will not allow your insane obsession with ghosts to pollute the mind of this impressionable little child." She hugged me, and completely confused me. Wasn't she the one who wanted me to tell Mom and Dad about whatever had gone wrong in my life that I refused to tell her about? "Come, you abused, unwanted wretch. I'll drive you to school." That line probably meant she had something important to talk to me about. As we left, I could hear Mom and Dad wondering what had happened that made Jazz drive me to school. I doubt they really noticed when she drove me. She had done so in the past, usually when she wanted to talk to me.
During the car ride, I was informed that I might want to attempt doing it in private. Families sometimes responded better if they could be told during a time of relative stress-free-ness. I wondered when that magical day would occur.
I arrived at school, and contemplated what Jazz had said on the way over, finally deciding to bounce my idea of telling Mom and Dad off of my friends. "I think I should tell them." It was a little abrupt, but I needed to say it now, just to get the idea out.
Sam responded quickly, with irritation. "Why? Parents don't listen! Even worse, they don't understand! Why can't they accept me for who I am?" She yelled the last part. I was amused. She had just effectively (and unintentionally) changed the topic.
"Sam, I'm talking about my powers, my problems."
I watched her droop a little, annoyed with herself, but determined to attempt salvaging the situation. "Oh, right. Me…too." I snickered quietly, and hoped Sam didn't kick me. She was really good with those boots of hers.
I grumbled, "It's been a month since the accident, and I still barely have any control. If somebody catches me, I'm gonna go from geek to freak around here." That wasn't all, I reflected. I might not even be here to be called names, like, Fenfreak. Fentoast was a new addition by Dash to my ever-increasing list of derogatory names around here. He usually used that one when he was about to beat me up. Toast, get it?
I didn't notice that I was sinking through the floor of the hall I was in until Tucker pointed it out. "Kinda like what you're doin' now?"
I gasped sharply as I was pulled back out, before I walked down the hall, continuing my vocalized angsting session. "Oh, darn it! If my dad can invent something that accidentally made me a ghost, why can't he invent something that turns me back to normal?" I had shoved my hands in my pocket, and wound up walking through a vending machine accidentally. It was a Tasty Snacks vending machine. It did not have tasty snacks. It was actually a cruel joke by the teachers, or so the rumors stated.
It was at that point that Sam told me my powers made me unique. I wasn't sure I believed that. Alright, they did make me unique, but not in a good way. I was dead. Sam just didn't realize that I had killed her friend yet. I wasn't planning on telling her. It was also at that point that Tucker finally learned the meaning of "ultra-recyclo-vegetarian". That is, he learned my rephrasing of it.
I learned he had a ridiculously good sense of smell. "Aw, who cares about that stuff? Danny, two words, "meat connoisseur." Last night, you had sloppy joes." He grinned, waiting for a response. I hummed under my breath, and raised my eyebrows. I was impressed. Tuck went on. "Meat heightens the senses, and my all-meat streak is fourteen years strong." Sure, it was an exaggeration, but he was almost right. He had found a way to cover all his nutritional needs through meat.
Sam smugly declared, "And, it's about to end. The school board finally agreed to try a new cafeteria menu. I wore them down."
Tucker looked like he might faint, right there on the floor. "Wait, what did you do?" I braced myself for an explosion as Sam smirked, and told him to wait and see.
There was a sign above the door that read, "This week, ultra-recyclo-vegetarian" The food we were given looked awful, and it was then that Sam and Tucker decided to argue over whether her food was garbage. I sided with Tucker. Garbage it was, whether called food, or otherwise. It looked like grass. Grass on a bun. Eww.
Shortly before our little argument, Lancer came over to "personally thank you for ushering this welcome experiment to our cafeteria." He addressed his message to Sam, who smiled with pleasure. She had finally gotten her way.
Tucker could apparently smell meat nearby, but I dismissed it as his mind playing tricks on him until Lancer hurried away, radiating fear, while denying rumors of an all-steak buffet in the teacher's lounge.
A wisp of cold air passed my lips as I tried to eat some grass, and looked at the kitchen. A green lady with purple lipstick was floating past the viewing opening. "Uh, guys, I've got a problem."
"Fenton!" A shout rang out across the cafeteria, anger pulsating off of the yeller, Dash Baxter.
"Make that two problems." I corrected myself dryly.
Dash practically shrieked, "I ordered three mudpies. Do you know what they gave me? Three mud pies! With mud! From the ground! All because of your girlfriend!" I knew something bad was going to happen, but I could only think to object to his statement.
"She's not my girlfriend!/I'm not his girlfriend!" Sam and I announced, giving him an annoyed look. As if. Sam was my friend, not a hot date. Paulina was the ideal hot date.
"These are the best years of my life. After high school, it's all downhill for me! How am I supposed to enjoy my glory days eating mud?" Dash ignored our pronouncement, in favor of providing reasons he should ground me into the floor of the cafeteria. I couldn't let him do that to Danny. He had picked me up by my shirt. Everyone was looking on with interest, except a couple, who were doing their best not to look at me.
Sam murmured, "Actually, it's topsoil." I winced. Now was not the time to correct overlooked details.
"Whatever!" Dash threw me against the table, hard. I could feel my ribs screaming in agonizing pain that raced across my body, and I was almost certain I heard something crack. "Eat it. All of it." I gulped. If I fought back, who knew what Dash might do to me? I started to take a bite.
My temporary salvation came in the form of seeing the ghost again, and deciding it would be worse to not fight the ghost than to suffer a couple more injuries. The least I could do for killing Danny was to play superhero for now. "Uh, garbage fight!" I threw the plate hard as Sam protested against my calling the food garbage, but I cut her off by pulling her under the table. Dash screamed vengeance for when he next saw me, but I didn't have time to contemplate what it might mean. I had a cafeteria to get to.
Tuck, on seeing the lunch lady from behind as we entered the kitchen, declared, "Hum…shouldn't be so bad. She looks a little like my grandmother." I grimaced. If his grandmother looked like that, I wondered how anybody tolerated her being near them. She was ugly.
"Shouldn't she be haunting a bingo hall?" I asked, before slapping myself mentally. His grandmother gambled a lot, and had, when she was younger, nearly bankrupted her parents. Tucker looked like he might say something, but he stopped himself. I think he saw my face-apology, and accepted it.
The woman turned to us as we finished talking, "Hello, children! Can you help me? Today's lunch is meatloaf, but I don't see the meatloaf. Did someone change the menu?" Her voice was sweet, but I could barely sense a note of underlying danger.
"Yeah! She did." Tucker pointed to Sam with a glare. He still hadn't forgiven her for making things URV (Ultra-Recyco-Vegetarian).
She roared with rage, hair abruptly turning to flames. Suddenly, she didn't look or sound very grandmotherly. "You changed the menu?! The menu has been the same for fifty years!"
"Get behind me!" I yelped, not really thinking.
"Wow, I feel safe." Sam mumbled behind my back, as she and Tucker took the suggested positions.
"I'm goin ghost!" I rose into the air, the words coming to my lips without thought, as did the instinct to protect Sam and Tucker at all costs. It was at the point that I was about level with the cafeteria woman, who was floating high in the air, that it occurred to me that I had no idea how to proceed. The only other ghosts I had ever fought were ectopusses. "Um…I command you to go away!" I barely managed to avoid being creamed by flying plates, which she summoned. A moment later, she tried to hit Sam and Tucker with the same trick. I managed to catch them all, with an ease that astounded myself. How on earth had I caught them? "Well, if this superhero thing doesn't work out I can have an exciting career as a busboy." I announced, the thought hitting me, and amusing me.
"I control lunch. Lunch is sacred! Lunch has rules! Anybody want cake?" Her voice went from menacing to calm in seconds. Did she have some form of Bipolar Disorder? Sam, Tuck nodded, hoping to avoid her rage. "Too bad. Children who change my menu do not get dessert." She snarled.
I rushed towards Sam and Tucker, because the Lunch Lady, as I had decided to dub her, sent giant stoves straight towards them, shortly after attempting to skewer me with shish-kabobs. "Hey! It worked!" I was amazed. I had barely managed to get there in time, and, using a theory of mine, turned them intangible.
Sam looked both stunned and angry. "This is the thanks I get for thinking like an individual?" I think the stoves must have exploded at that point, because a rattling shock ran through the building. Seconds later, books started flying out of their lockers. How could the Lunch Lady control books, too? Books weren't part of lunch, right?
Meat floated past us, and Tucker tried to name a particularly close-by one. "Steak! Ribeye! No, quarterhouse, medium rare." The meat covered Lunch Lady. "But where did it come from? Lancer." Tucker growled the last part, but I was busy paying attention to the walking food pile in the middle of the hallway.
"Prepare to learn why meat is the most powerful of the five food groups! Cookie?" Sam, taking the opposite route of her former decision, shook her head. "Then, parish!"
"Forget it! The only thing that had an expiration date here is you! Whoops!" I lost my transformation as I finished my speech. "I didn't mean to do that." I was thrown hard, and the Lunch Lady picked up Sam. I heard more things pop, but I barely cast them any attention. I was incapable. Adrenalin was rushing through my veins. I was a little dazed, though. I lay there, as Tucker tried to urge me to get up and change back. I didn't want to move. Lancer managed to sneak up on us, while I tried to gather motivation to move. Dash was grinning behind him as I was picked up by my shirt collar, and made to walk.
"Tucker Foley, crowning tardiness, talking in class, repeated loitering by the girls' locker room. Danny Fenton, 34 dropped beakers in the last month, banned for life from handling all fragile school property, but no severe mischief before today. So, gentlemen, tell me, WHY DID THE TWO OF YOU CONSPIRE TO DESTROY THE SCHOOL CAFETERIA?" Lancer started to read our records, the beginning of any accusation of guilt, before he ended, yelling the last part, about trying to destroy our cafeteria. Sure, the food was terrible, but it wasn't like I hated it that much.
I started to defend myself with a classic move, laying the blame on something (or someone) else. "Dash started it. He threw…"
Lancer interrupted, "Four touchdowns in the past game, and is therefore exempt from scorn. You two, however, are not. I'll map out your punishment when I return. Mr. Baxter, watch the door." He looked angry, and determined. Not that I knew, at the time, that it was because his entire all-steak buffet, the one that didn't exist, no longer had steak in it.
"We gotta find Sam. For some reason, I feel like I got her kidnapped." Tucker got up, determined to help her. My ribs were starting to burn, but the mention of finding and rescuing Sam was enough to push the pain back as we walked to the security cameras, and tried to locate her.
I suggested why he might be feeling guilty, a tone of accusation in my voice. "Maybe because you told the ghost she changed the menu? How about that?" I had someone I could blame for feeling so awful.
Tucker changed the topic. "That steak is still in the building. 200 yards, tops." I decided to trust his nose.
I finally found a trail of soggy meat and blood. "Check it out! Meat trail."
I grabbed Tucker and turned us intangible and invisible, heading through several crowds and floors to find the storage rooms. On arrival, Tucker made known his lack of having ever seen so much meat in one place before. I was still wondering how he was weird, but I was the one who had powers, and I whispered that to myself, careful to avoid letting him see my amusement. Both of us, however, were near gagging at the smell of improperly stored meat and blood, which had pooled on the floor.
I could hear the Lunch Lady lecturing Sam, who was struggling underneath a pile of meat. "My dear child, meat is good for kids. It helps them grow and makes them smile! Why won't you eat it?"
"We don't need meat. That's fat." Sam was trying to be reasonable, pointing out things in a calm tone.
"Silence! You need discipline. Manners. Respect. You know where that comes from? Meat! Chicken or fish?" Yet another personality change. It was almost hard to follow, but at this point, I had figured out it was a trick question.
I whispered, "I'll take care of the ghost. You find a way to get Sam out of that pile of meat," and sprinted for the Lunch Lady while Tucker nodded, and made a rush for the pile of meat. I punched the cook as hard as I could, just as she half-rotated towards me, sensing my approach. I didn't pay much attention to what Sam and Tucker did. I was too busy trying to punch the Lunch Lady again. She caught my foot, even while I tried to kick her.
She smiled, and informed me that my weak attack was the reason I needed meat. "Don't you see? This is why you need meat! You're skin and bones!" She proceeded to attempt to kill me via more flying meat. I could hear Tucker trying to help me, but he was stopped, and he and Sam, wisely, took off.
I grabbed them after a bit of tracking. They were running from the Lunch Lady with all their might. I managed to turn them intangible again, and flew with them through the wall, and into the open air.
"Gee, Danny. Fighting meat monster, flying through walls, you must be exhausted." Sam commented, looking worried. I was incredibly glad I was close to the ground, because I was feeling the fingers of unconsciousness creeping up on me, and I only barely managed a sarcastic remark, about me not being tired, before my vision was covered in black dots, and I crashed to the ground, aware of painful burning in my ribs, just as I lost myself inside the blackness of my mind.
"What's going on?" I awoke with a gasp, startled, and wondering why I was in bed.
"You passed out. We took you home. You've been asleep for four days!" Tucker radiated concern, but his last words shocked repetition out of me.
"Four days?!"
"Nah, it's only been a couple hours." Tucker was grinning with amusement, probably at my hilarious attempt to get up, which was met with defeat.
Sam groaned, "Knock it off, Tucker. This is the second time today your carelessness almost got him killed." Mentally, I curled in on myself, knowing an argument was about to take place.
"Me? I almost got him killed? The only reason this happened is because you had to be unique. You had to take the meat away, and I'm gonna get it back." Tucker shouted, just like Mom and Dad do, sometimes, and I wanted to tell them to stop. I can't. I've never been able to do much about our relationship. We used to be great friends, but, when we argue, our arguments are huge.
"You wanna change that menu back? You're gonna have to go through me to do it!" Sam screamed right back, and slammed the door, leaving my by myself.
I shuddered, and tried to reassure myself. "Uh, well, I'm sure everything will be back to normal by tomorrow." But I knew I was just trying to convince myself. I would probably be wrong.
Hi, readers! How do you like my latest chapter? It is more than 3,500 words long! Please remember to leave a review!
-MiaulinK