Rags and Riches
Ruby Tuesday. October 31, 1967. Jackie and Hyde, in two separate worlds, finally meet. From afar, and up close. J/H, of course.
*****
Tuesday, October 31, 1967
Point Place, Wisconsin
1:00 pm
From Afar
Steven Hyde hates Halloween.
Most holidays, and other special occasions, are stupid. Because nobody in his house ever gives a shit. Thanksgiving? Cheap deli turkey, four days past its expiration date. His birthday? Telling him they wished he was never born. Christmas? A giant lump of coal.
So he's spent the last two years at the school's Halloween parade on the sidelines. Because in kindergarten, he learned his lesson. The hard way.
Cringing at the memory, he can feel the sting of the slap on his skin. He's used to it, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.
Instead of hurting, at the tender age of five, he just wanted to have fun. He nabbed an old set of sheets and a pair of scissors, so he could be a ghost. Edna found out, and he got hit. Making him want to fade into the shadows, like a ghost.
That was the end of the Halloween parade for him. Instead, he gets to watch Forman, Donna, and Kelso prance around like fools. As Spiderman, Rosie the Riveter, and a doctor.
"I'm a doctor, can I examine you?"
Some girls usually giggle, some give him a blank, confused, stare, and others give what Kelso calls "attitude."
This time, it's attitude. As a familiar fist collides with Kelso's arm, Rosie the Riveter gives a shit. And takes no shit.
"No!"
"Ow, Donna...!"
But his cries of pain heed no sympathy, from anyone. As Kelso awkwardly grimaces, now trying to play it cool.
What a fuckin' fool.
"You want me to send you to the hospital?" Or, at the very least, to the nurse's office. As Donna threatens to kick his ass. "Because I'll smash your teeth in."
"Then I'll need a dentist. Not a doctor, duh."
"Brilliant comeback." Losing patience, Hyde groans. "You gotta be brilliant to be a doctor, and you're a moron."
"But I can be like those doctors on TV."
"Stupid and useless?" Donna scoffs, with a rightfully dismissive chuckle, "Because most of those shows are stupid."
"Spiderman's way better than those stupid soaps." Forman tries to add something to the conversation, but fails. Miserably. "He shoots webs from his fingers, like super-strong silly string!"
As Forman begins to ramble about Spiderman, and Donna reluctantly listens, his mind's on other things. And so is Kelso's.
Despite his humiliation, Kelso's aimlessly wandered over to a group of first graders. Fresh meat. 'Cuz kindergarteners are usually sheltered from the big kids. They have half days, have naps, and have their own Halloween parade.
But first graders are thrown to the wolves. And are the fresh meat in the parade. "I'm a doctor. Can I examine you?"
One or two of the girls stare, but a couple take the bait. A blonde girl, and a brunette. Both dressed as Disney princesses. Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella.
Sleeping Beauty's giggle is lighthearted, but Cinderella seems more interested. A bit grossed out, but interested.
"You're not a doctor. Only grown-ups are doctors," She haughtily insists, flipping her hair, "You're playing pretend."
"I'm not pretending...about one thing." Kelso stumbles, apparently smitten. "You're cute."
"So are you." Cinderella comes back to planet Earth, as the clock strikes twelve. "But I'm rich, and you? Are not."
And as Cinderella drags Sleeping Beauty away from the ball, Hyde's done with the spectacle. As he aimlessly kicks a rock down the parking lot, he grunts. Despite the hype, Halloween still sucks.
*****
4:30 pm
Up Close
Hyde's looked. Everywhere.
Bud and Edna wanted costumes for some party. Some party filled with drunks and losers. So they've hauled him. To the mall, and apparently? Left him there, to fend for himself.
He's even gotten desperate, and looked in the nice stores. Maybe Bud and Edna tried to steal something. Maybe they wanted to fuck in one of the fitting rooms.
And as he wanders around Montgomery Ward's, he spies something. With his little eye.
John Lennon glasses.
Forman, Donna, and Kelso are going trick or treating. Kelso's still in own little world, and didn't give him an invitation, but Forman and Donna invited him to come. Out of common courtesy, most likely. 'Cause nobody ever wants him around.
"I don't have a costume."
"Why don't you go as a ghost or something? Use some old sheets and scissors."
Donna clearly meant to be helpful, but instead, she opened up a gaping wound. As he cringed.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Uh huh. Whatever."
Since Bud and Edna left him here, to his own devices, maybe he could find his way to the Forman's. And go trick or treating. As John Lennon. It's simple and easy. His two favorite words.
However, he has no money. But over the years, he's learned from the best. There are no security tags, and a nice pair of aviators are right next to them. Waiting to be snatched.
Both of them look pretty cool. He doesn't want to be too obvious, so he can't try them on. But he'd look cool, and he could pass off as Lennon for Halloween. Who's the coolest Beatle. No contest.
Of course, Forman's favorite Beatle is Paul, but Forman doesn't know what he was talking about. Lennon isn't a pretty boy that the girls fawn over the most, like moths to a flame. He rocks, and he's the leader of the Beatles. Not stupid Paul.
As his hand hovers over the key to the kingdom, the key to trick or treating, Cinderella suddenly appears.
To rain on his parade. Softly, but firmly. "Stealing is wrong."
Damn, his cover's been blown. Wide open. "And?"
"Only dirty bums steal."
Hyde awkwardly shrugs. "Guess I'm a dirty bum."
He shoves his empty hands into his ragged denim jacket, annoyed at Cinderella's presence. She's not in her costume anymore, in a floral dress with some mary janes and a blush pink pocketbook slung over her shoulder, but a tiara is still proudly perched on her head.
But Cinderella tries to start a conversation. "You're poor, and I don't usually talk to poor people."
"You're talking to me," He subtly notes.
"Because you're trying to steal something. Duh." Stating the seemingly obvious, she loudly continues. "Mommy and Daddy say I should feel bad for poor people, sometimes."
"What an eye-opener."
Staring at him, into his steely blue eyes, she dismisses him. Outright. "You don't need sunglasses, do you?"
"Nope. Just wanna be John Lennon for Halloween."
"And the other pair?"
Again, he merely shrugs. "They just look cool."
She scoffs, like he doesn't matter. "You're not cool."
"Cause I'm poor?" He groans, fighting fire with fire, "You're not cool. You're a square."
Eying the pretty brunette with contempt, Cinderella looks like one of those perfect rich kids on those travel brochures in the gas station. Sweet but entitled, as a salty smile emerges. No longer sweet, just salty.
"I'd rather be a square than a dirty, dirty bum."
Such an insult lands, but he doesn't show it. His parents are dirty, dirty bums. And he's gonna end up just. Like. Them. And Cinderella's parents are haughty, relentless, and rich. They're destined to go their separate ways, and on separate paths. Cinderella will find her rich prince, unless...
"Kelso's a dirty dog. Stay away from him."
But she doesn't take his advice. Instead, she hastily tosses it aside. Like a used piece of gum. "You can't tell me what to do. You're poor."
Of course, the rich don't give a damn about the poor. Typical. "Ain't your dad a politician?"
She rattles off the usual, like she's done it a million times before. "Yes. And a lawyer, and a businessman. And my mom's the best real estate agent in southeastern Wisconsin."
But she doesn't get the same response others give, and instead, such information is treated with outright disdain. An affirmation, that politicians and lawyers are pieces of shit. And treat the less fortunate like gum on their shoe.
"What an eye-opener. The rich don't give a damn about us. They just want our votes. And since I can't vote, I guess I don't matter."
But Cinderella, previously an ugly stepsister, suddenly sees the light. "You matter. To someone, not me...but someone."
"Thanks." Oozing with sarcasm, he hastily pushes her aside. Not literally, because he'd never push a girl, but whatever. "Now go back to your stupid, rich life. And play pretend. You didn't see me here, with these sunglasses."
A superficially upstanding citizen, she scoffs. "Not if you're stealing them."
He nervously shuffles in his boots, two sizes too big. "I need to be somethin' for Halloween, or else I can't go trick or treating with my friends."
A flicker of hope, once again, emerges. She clearly feels bad for him, in his sorry state. Alone, with nobody to take care of him. "You don't have a costume, right?"
"Right."
"And where are your parents?"
In hell. "Somewhere. Who cares."
"They abandoned you here?"
Yup, and it fuckin' hurts. "Guess so."
Suddenly digging through her pocketbook, she reveals a small, silver change purse. And presses a few coins into his hand. "I'll give you some money to use the payphone, okay? So you're not alone."
Eternally grateful, his true colors begin to show. "Thanks."
She smiles, and once again, she opens her change purse. "And I'll use my allowance money to buy the sunglasses for you. The John Lennon glasses are on me. But the other pair? You're paying me back, with interest."
As brutal as her father, a savvy businessman, he minces his words. And holds his tongue. "You got sass..."
"And class, S..." Struggling to come up with a name, she relents. "What's your name?"
"Steven. Steven Hyde."
"I'm Jackie. Jackie Burkhart. If you didn't know that already."
An awkward silence emerges, and he says the only thing he can. The only thing he truly feels. Grateful, 'cause someone actually gives a shit about him. And although Jackie Burkhart brushes it off, it's obvious. It's not just for show.
"Uh huh. Thanks."
Sincerity still lingers, though, behind that cold, hard exterior. Behind her Barbie dream house world.
"You're welcome, Steven."
And as Cinderella skips off into oblivion, Steven Hyde is, once again, left to face the real world.