I do not own Ratched.
I do not own my angel boy Huck. But I love him.
Huck Finnigan Lives Again: A Ratched Fairytale
Susannah And The Fishies
"Huck Finnigan."
"Yes?"
He'd noticed her as he was coming down the steps of the hospital in the bright afternoon sunshine.
The woman standing next to a red Oldsmobile.
Parked right next to Huck's blue Ford.
Crisp gray structured skirt and jacket. White gloves. White purse. Gray close hat. Gray heels.
He'd noticed her, hadn't given her much thought.
Thinking instead of Grace.
It has been her day off.
And he'd missed seeing her around, missed the lift to his day to enjoy a lunch with her.
But that's alright, he's a grown man, she's a grown woman and-
"May I help you?"
-now there's this.
He almost knows who she is before he asks the question in his mind.
"I'm Susanna. Grace's sister."
And she is. She even sounds a little like her, looks like her.
Somewhat.
Brown hair, instead of the soft strawberry blond of her younger sister.
Face a little more set, a little more mature.
Five years older, he remembers Grace saying.
Married. With children.
And now.
"Oh. Well, it's nice to meet you."
Right here before him.
At his job.
Out of the blue clear sky.
"What can I do for you?"
And she smiles.
It's a nice smile.
Not a Grace smile, though he can see the relation.
But a nice smile nevertheless.
Perhaps a bit perfunctory.
Grace's never i-
"I wanted to talk to you."
And he dreads her next statement.
Stay away from my sister.
She needs a man with a face.
A man without a wife.
Leave her alone.
"Alright."
"Grace has been talking about you. A lot."
Okay.
"She's quite taken with you."
Oh.
She is?
"Says you're a good man. I just wanted to see if it was true."
And he doesn't quite know . . .
"Alright."
. . . what to say.
"She said you knocked out an orderly who was disparaging the female staff, saying crude things."
"I did."
It's not exactly a torture interrogation.
"She says you take good care of the patients here, try to make them feel like people again."
"I do."
Not near the pleasure of talking with Grace.
"Says you're divorced. That your wife couldn't accept how you came back from the war changed."
And there's the clincher.
And he faces it, head on, as he has always forced himself to do.
I can't change it. I couldn't stop it.
All I can do is accept it.
Keep going.
At least I'm not dead.
Yet.
"Yes."
And he can only answer the truth and look her straight in the face.
This woman who continues on, not quite unkindly.
"She says she would slap her if she could. Your ex-wife. Tell her what an idiot she was to not love and support you the way you deserved."
This makes him smile. Just a little.
"Thank you."
And finally, finally, finally Grace Miller's older sister smiles.
Just a little.
And then the smile disappears.
And she's as serious as a heart attack again.
"I love my baby sister, Mr. Finnigan. She doesn't know I'm here but I wanted to check you out. I don't want anything bad to happen to her. Including a man taking advantage of her."
Huck couldn't agree more.
"I have no intention of taking advantage of anybody. I . . . I care about Grace. Very much. I only want to take care of her and see her happy."
And the sister nods.
"Good. Because if you hurt her, Mr. Finnigan, you'll have me to deal with."
He nods.
"I understand."
Then the smile is back.
"Alright then."
She starts to turn away.
Shifts back.
"If she asks you to Sunday dinner, you should come. We'd like to have you."
This seems to be an invitation.
"Thank you."
And not a mafia-style threat.
"Have a good day, Mr. Finnigan."
We'll be seein' yous again, Mista Finnigan. Real soon.
"Thank you."
And then he decides he should stop listening to the radio stories so much.
"You as well."
Before they make him paranoid.
No lie, my mother did this with her younger sister's boyfriend.
Who did turn out to be a bad man.
But then again, so was my dad.
Oh well. She tried.
Anyway, thanks to DinahRay for taking the time to review. And I agree with you, he deserves everything good too. This is basically Huck's fairy tale.
And I'm not ashamed to admit it. ;)
