Hey, again! Soo, not much to say here (for once XD). Hope you like this second chapter! :D
Disclaimer: I do not own SpongeBob SquarePants or any of its characters.
Mommy
Being into the deep red seat inside the car that had carried him on adventures of many kinds growing up – the doctor, the park, and just about every ice cream shop in Bikini Bottom, to name a few – felt both cozy and a tad awkward, which was unusual for him.
Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that the woman who had literally pushed him out into the world was the only other person there with him in the present moment. After all, any time he needed a ride somewhere, or that one bizarre "vacation" they went on, his father or Patrick was always around, along with Margaret.
As he sat there scanning the passing sand mountains, he also took the time to scan his usually sharp memory. He had to admit, the thought of Plankton's computer wife performing the same task inside her mechanical system crossed his head-space for a moment. Sometimes the wide-open range of the mind felt more like a giant lab, especially when a person went through his or her daily routine like a robot building a boat mobile.
Hmm… let's see: there was that time– oh, no, that doesn't count. Well, what about the– ugh, no…
This reminded him of that dreadful day he had studied the book, "How to Become a Fancy Waiter in Less Than 20 Minutes." If he thought about it for a while, his brain would sometimes ache when remembering how close it was to exploding with information. He wasn't too fond of how all those tiny SpongeBob's had thrown out his name, either.
Right now, either those little not-so-helpful helpers had trashed them, or there simply was no instance in which he and his mother were alone together. At least, not since he was an infant and a growing child.
The main reason he could call this situation "awkward" was that he wasn't used to this much silence. It was all right earlier since those quiet moments passed quickly (and it helped that they weren't physically in each other's presence while on the phone).
SpongeBob's eyes glistened in the sun that warmed his skin through the window. He then took an interest in his thumbs, circling one over the other. The trance that had sucked him into its universe a few minutes ago was starting to grab him by the feet again as he let his gaze gradually drift off to his mother's side view.
Wow, he thought. This is the lady who gave me my first home. She… she was my first home. Gosh, I can't believe I could fit in there at one point in time! He glanced down at her nondescript belly in awe. The thought that years ago, that bodily space kept him safe until nature decided to let him see the wonders the world had to offer was almost incomprehensible.
It was a miracle, really. Not only his birth but every other person in the deep blue sea and the Earth itself that had a chance at life.
A smile as sugary as a Triple Gooberberry Sunrise spread across his face. How could he ever allow himself to find these minutes with her to be awkward? Just looking at her wrapped his insides in another nurturing embrace. He had to make the most of this day with her.
"Gee, you sure look pretty today, Mom."
Margaret had been floating around in a universe of her own for a while now. The road in front of her was slowly changing into a slideshow of vivid family memories. She felt as if she'd been looking through a kaleidoscope until his voice brought her back to reality. Just in time, too, so that she could refocus her attention on slowing down at the stoplight.
"Aww! Do I, really? Oh," she peeked at her reflection in the rear-view mirror, using her ring finger to clean up the edges of her lipstick. "I didn't even do anything different."
"You don't have to," he giggled. "You've always been the prettiest mom in the sea. And you're so nice, too."
All she could wonder between the seconds of grinning to herself and pressing the gas pedal was what she could've done to deserve such an angel of a child.
Well, most of the time, he was angelic. Like nearly every kid out there, though, he could stir up a storm with lightning strikes of trouble and raindrops tainted with irritation. She recalled the morning she and Harold came into the kitchen to find a teeny sponge in a full diaper, flipping burnt chunks of barnacle loaf on the smoking stove.
Just because he would grow up to be a talented fry cook, didn't mean he was immune to mistakes, especially at such a young age. Maybe they should have waited until his second birthday to give him that spatula.
"So are you, honey," she smiled. "And you always look so handsome and stylish with your choice of clothes."
"Bahaha! Awww, pfft, thanks. Same ol' wardrobe. It's never let me down. Ow." He smiled through the shock of pain from stretching his collar and letting it snap back onto his chest. Beauty hurts.
"But y'know, I was actually planning on wearing something totally different for today. I wanted to surprise you."
"Aw! What was it?"
SpongeBob's face bloomed into a look of satisfaction and bliss as they reached the front of the "finest eating establishment ever established for eating."
"I'll tell ya about it over lunch. I hope you're in the mood to go coco-nuts," he smirked excitedly as he got out of his door and ran over to hers, opening it for her.
"Oh, well… " she was unable to hide her confusion while stepping out and sliding her purse over her shoulder. "I wasn't particularly anticipating having coconuts for lunch, but– "
"Bahahaha! C'mon!"
It was just like old times, the way he snatched her hand and practically dragged her to the entrance of that restaurant like he did every day until he started working there. It also sent her back to the first time she ever tried a Krabby Patty. She could see, in her mind, the joy it brought to that sweet baby's face inside the womb.
"This is your day, remember?"
Her 'lids fell halfway over her eyes in a moment of getting swept away by another sentimental wave.
No, dear. This is our day.
"Ahoy, SpongeBob! What brings ye here on such a fine, money-tastic day?" asked Mr. Krabs, standing proudly in the center of his biggest source of happiness: his cash-grabbing crab trap.
Was he even aware that it was shaped like a crab trap? No one knew. All he knew, was that the scent of those green papers in his claws was much more enticing than that frilly ol' "lilac" soap Squidward was always taking a whiff of under his armpits.
The place was normally closed on Sundays, but the old, crusty man saw the benefit of switching that closed sign to "open" on this kind of special occasion.
Sometimes, his judgment was beyond poor, like when the Krusty Krab collapsed after repeated blows with a hammer just so he could keep his drive-through, or (who could forget?) the time he sold SpongeBob's soul for 62 cents. But today, with the big crowd of his loyal customers treating their mothers to meals greasy enough to cause acne just by smelling them, he needed a rake to gather up his earnings. And SpongeBob hadn't even been there to cook said meals!
"Ahoy, Mr. Krabs!" SpongeBob waved unnecessarily at his boss standing right in front of him. "I'm just here to have a nice lunch with my lovely mother."
Instead of a young man giving his parent an affectionate side hug warming his heart, Mr. Krabs was more moved by the feeling of his wallet pulsing in his back pocket, as if it had a heart itself. At this point in his life, it might as well have had one.
For now, Eugene had to ignore that little, leather sucker if he wanted to remain being seen as authentic and not a greed machine – even less so in front of his best employee's mother, although pretty much the entire town was aware of his oftentimes shady business practices.
"Oh-ho-ho! Yesss, of course! Why, there ain't no better place in town to spend your mon– I-I mean, your precious time at!" he flashed a nervous grin, wrapping an arm around the two and squishing them all together.
"Great!" SpongeBob slipped out of the hug at a speed his boss couldn't understand, judging by how his eye stalks pointed downward like arrows in the spot he was just in a second before.
"Mom, have a seat wherever you like. It's time for your taste buds to bathe in the juicy perfection of a dee-licious Krabby– HMPH!"
Dang it! Why did fate so often allow one of his cocky, determined power walks into the kitchen to get interrupted by a hand–or, in this case, claw–to the face?
"Hold on there a sec, boy-o! This is your day off."
"Oh, yeah," he spoke muffled words as his face remained smashed up against his claw. "But wait a minute, who's been cooking the patties?"
The stingy man finally found the decency to let his employee breathe, gesturing towards the kitchen window. "I figured if I wanted to rake in the dough today and not have me customers leavin' in boatloads because of burnt patties, I should hire someone with the same level of skills as you, SpongeBob." He placed his claws on his hips, shutting his eyes in a manner that screamed, "I'm as smug as a fancy mug!"
He could've just pulled the young man away from his pineapple and put him to work for the day like he sometimes did, but then that would mean that he'd need to grab that octopus by his tentacles and rob him of his afternoon nap and suntan, as well, which he had already tried to do – the reason being that he knew how much Squidward hated working with SpongeBob, but ever since that argument they'd had the week before involving Squid balling up a wad of Krabs's cash and blowing it out through his clarinet for the customers run off with, Eugene was still out for sweet revenge.
Unfortunately, though, after Krabs had thought it was okay to try and break into Squidward's Easter Island Head and make him work with the yellow bane of his existence, he had to hide in the bushes until the cops that Squidward had called stopped looking for him. So, he would be forced to torture him at another time; he'd be sure to tell SpongeBob that it was "Annoy Squidward Week" so that he could drive him a hundred times crazier than he did on "Annoy Squidward Day."
SpongeBob was a regular hard worker anyway, so the one morally right thing for Krabs to do was let the lad have his day off, which would also temporarily protect him from Squidward's temper and the way he'd lash out at him by stuffing his pores with straws.
"That's great, Mr. Krabs! Gosh, I didn't think you'd be willing to pay someone else to take my place today."
"Pay?" he stared at SpongeBob as if he was a man stuck on an island his whole life, hearing the concept of toilet paper for the first time.
Sigh. What else was new? He wasn't called a "crustaceous cheapskate" for nothing.
"...Y-yeah. So, anyway– " SpongeBob stood with a hand on his hip, confusedly glancing back at his mother, who laughed quietly at a window table as he then smiled and waved at her.
It was entertaining to see her little boy chatting with his boss like a big grownup. It felt like only yesterday he and Patrick were flipping through the pages of a jellyfish coloring book on the living room floor. Little did she know that it was yesterday. It was quite a thick book, and they still had yet to complete every page this many years later. Some of the ones that were finished stuck together like snail slime from Patrick's drool, and others (all of the ones Patrick had colored himself) were more outside the lines than SpongeBob's personality.
"Who'd ya get to be fry cook for the day, Mr. K?" SpongeBob asked in a jovial tone, leaning his elbow against the register.
"Okay, who ordered the extra-large kelp fries and– Hey! Watch it, buck-o! I've got a laser and I'm not afraid to use it!" Karen the computer, wearing a Krusty Crew hat and holding a tray stared with a red line across her screen at the male fish that had nearly made her drop the food as he carelessly zoomed past her to the men's room.
"Karen? Mr. Krabs hired you for the day?"
"Oh, hi, SpongeBob. Yeah," she scratched the top of her robotic head. "Plankton and I got into another fight over his stupidity this morning, as usual, so I wanted to get back at that tiny waste of space by working for his enemy." She did her best to ignore her memories of that shapely piece of junk Plankton had once replaced her with.
"Well, gosh, I'm sorry to hear that, Karen." SpongeBob placed a hand on her shoulder, looking at her sympathetically.
"Are you kidding? I'm not!" she cackled. "It was so satisfying to squash that little green cockroach till he begged for mercy! Ha, ha!"
"Hey!" Plankton was revealed to be smeared across one of Karen's wheels, twitching in pain. "Unlike those pesky vermin, at least I have enough of a brain to know when to flip my off switch, unlike SOME nagging, useless calculators! OW! OW! OW! OW!"
Karen showed a green, digital smirk as she rolled back and forth on her wheels before delivering the customer's order, making a small mess of her husband's guts on the wooden floor.
"Please. The only 'switch' you have is the one called 'failure', and it's never been turned off. Ha, ha, ha!"
"OW!"
"Arg arg arg arg arg! Oh," Mr. Krabs wiped away a disturbing tear of happiness. "Keep up the good work, Mrs. Plankton."
For Krabs, hiring Karen had three benefits: number one, just like when he had hired her once before, he didn't have to pay her. Number two, she had plenty of experience making chum burgers, so she knew how to flip patties on a grill, and three, he got to enjoy his arch-nemesis getting tortured. Hey, if he couldn't watch it happen to Squidward, Plankton was the next best thing.
Of course, he had taken extra care in making a fresh batch of patties himself earlier that morning and keeping an eye on Karen. There was no way in heck he would fully trust that contraption and her scheming husband to not try and steal the formula, even as he screamed in pain all day.
Now, as for whose job it was to work the register…
"Hello," Old Man Jenkins greeted a female fish in his shaky voice. "Are you enjoying National Prune Day, young lady?"
"Uh, no," the woman with long, blonde hair raised a brow at him. "It's actually Mother's Day, sir."
"What? Your mother fell in? Oh, businesses today and their oversized toilets!"
The woman, as well as the people that had been dining there for a while, filled the room with one giant groan. No hearing aid in the ocean could help that man.
"Heh, sorry for the wait, Mom," SpongeBob, after having to repeat himself several times to Jenkins, pulled his mother's eyes away from the view outside the window and sat across from her. "Mr. Krabs doesn't want me working in the kitchen since it's my day off, so, uh…"
Margaret's smile made a slow reappearance while he traced a finger around on the table. She deeply appreciated his effort to make her happy; his thoughtfulness made her ponder the idea of getting him something extravagant for his next birthday – as long as it wasn't another boat mobile that he and Mrs. Puff could fight over again.
"I hope you don't mind somebody else makin' the patties. Especially, eh– "
They looked over at Karen, who placed an order onto a man's table. "There you are, sir, nice and fresh."
"Thanks! Oh, could I get some extra mustard on this, please?"
"Sure! Anything for the lovely customers." Karen zapped Plankton with her laser, transforming him into a mustard bottle and squirting him onto the burger.
"My eye! My mouth! MY ENTIRE BODY! AHHHH!"
"… That… lady over there." SpongeBob finished, laughing nervously.
"I don't mind at all, SpongeBob." Margaret gently patted his hands, proceeding to stroke them like she used to whenever he was feeling anxious.
Some specific images and "clips" flashed through SpongeBob's head, almost like her hands were delivering them to him as a special gift.
Without her caring touch, how would he have survived that afternoon as an eight-year-old, having his outside playtime crumble to dust in a matter of seconds when he flew off his bicycle after slamming into a rock?
"Oww! Mommy, they hurt soooo bad!" he could barely stop trembling on that couch for her to clean up his wounds, blood trickling down his knees.
"I know, darling, I know. Just hold still so I can make them better."
"A-all the kids started laughing at me when I fell. A-and then they said I was a big baby for… f-for crying! I-I feel bad!"
The moisture in his down-turned eyes had just about taken the goodness out of her day completely. But she pushed her feelings to the side in order to pull his forward and nurture them, just like always.
"Don't feel bad, honey. It's okay to cry when you're hurt."
"I-it is?"
"Of course. You know that. It is always okay to let your emotions out. Don't ever bottle them up. It's not good for you."
"O-okay. Um… c-can I have a hug, Mommy… please?"
SpongeBob was so lost in her gaze and his thoughts, he didn't even notice his lips quivering, or his hands tightening around hers. Her countenance became the trigger that allowed the rest of the scene to unfold inside his mind, the atmosphere of the noisy dining room beginning to drown in silence.
"Yes, my baby. Come here. It's all right."
"I love you, Mommy."
"Mommy loves you too, baby."
To this day, he could feel the way she had cradled him.
He had soaked a brand-new shirt of hers with countless tears, and it didn't bother her one bit. She had cared so much more about kissing his little head to ease his mental anguish and acting as his favorite stuffed animal that he could sob into and squeeze for as long as he needed to.
Looking back on it, he was grateful knowing that her encouragement of his emotions was part of what made him the sensitive person he was. Sometimes it could do more harm than good, but he couldn't imagine not having the mushy heart that he did; if he didn't, it would've probably turned him into something closer to his Abrasive Side. Saying "no" to people 24/7 wasn't worth not having friends.
Jeez, all this because he was worried about being the one who could cook a couple of sandwiches better than anyone else.
It was a good thing Squidward wasn't there to get annoyed with his emotional outbursts and couldn't challenge him to a day without tears.
Oh, dear… no. I am not gonna cry. C'mon, SpongeBob, hold it together. You can do this.
"You all right, son? You look a little bit lost."
Aw, darn! Now you've made her worry!
"Uh, n-no, no!" he pulled one hand free and quickly wiped his eyes of the tears that were about to spill, believing that she wouldn't notice. "I-I mean, yes, I'm okay. I'm fine. Perfectly great and dandy. Ha, ha."
She did notice, apparently, because her eyes sparkled the way they did any time they could read what was going through his mind, and SpongeBob's lips automatically curled inward in an attempt to stop them from quivering some more.
What was this? How could a day that was supposed to be glowing with casual fun, be blasted out of nowhere by the hose of unavoidable sentimentality?
Indeed, it was okay to shed tears when hurt.
It was also okay and even healthy to do when the times that shaped a person's life hit him or her so hard. They made an impact that would last until they passed on to the great beyond.
"Thank you very much for taking time out of your day to be with me, dear. You don't know just how much it means to me."
"Oh, Mom, this is your–"
It seemed they both loved to shock one another with looks that could turn anyone's face into a big ol' smiley face sticker (at least it matched his skin tone!)
"Uh, our day, I mean. Just you and me."
She was thrilled he finally said it. Now, if only he would utter that other word the way she'd been wanting to hear it. Her life, not just her day, would feel complete if he did so.
Thankfully, people were too busy stuffing their fishy faces to take notice of her reaching out and pinching his cheek, coloring it and the other cheek one of the many shades of embarrassment.
"Mommm!"
"Hmm, hmm! I'm sorry, son, I can't help it. Those little freckles are just irresistible!"
"Oh-ho, why, thank you– heyyy! Wait a minute, what about yours? They're pretty much the same, aren't they?" he teased, leaning his weight on the table and stretching his fingers forward as far as he could to reach her face, but to no avail.
"Ugh, darn it! I forgot to do my super-duper long arm stretches this morning. They helped me to reach that cookbook wayyyy up high on the top shelf in my library the other day. Gary hated the soup I made afterwards, though."
"Ha, ha! Oh, dear, you're so silly. Ha, ha, ha!"
"Heehee, yeah, I guess I am, huh? Heeheehee!"
"Ha, ha, ha, ha!"
"Bahahaha!"
"Arg arg arg arg arg! Ohhhh, that's good! Ah, ha, ha, haaa!"
To add to the endearing yet strange scene, a certain crab standing in front of their table decided it would be cool to participate in their giggling session, staring at them creepily until the laughter slowly stopped like a coin rolling onto the ground and wobbling before it laid flat.
The cartoon sound effect that accompanied their blinking fueled the awkward fire burning around them.
"So, how's your money?" Krabs asked, his claws clasped together.
Well, that figured. So much for the authentic front.
A/N: The third chapter is nearly finished. I've been working on it every day for a while now, so it should be out pretty soon. I just figured that since the first two chapters were already complete, I might as well get them out there. Also, don't worry, I still plan on continuing Raindrops and Small Talk as soon as possible, as well as some of my other stories (it just takes a lot of motivation, y'know?) See ya soon!