Chapter 8.- We're a happy family
To Jill, yes it was your b-day I was talking about. I was reading all the reviews for Worry, and so I noticed it and added it to the list of great people that share that birthdate. Also, Happy Birthday to Erik, our Erik, (*Sigh*) and of course to my best bud, who won't be able to read this, as she has bad eyes (It's like she's squinting, but all the time…24/7) but I will inform her that she is now famous in one of my ER fics. Happy 15th Deanne!
Joey knelt in prayer to the gods. He kept praying that he'd win, and wouldn't have to be here anymore. His foster parents didn't seem to approve of the way he chose to pray, but he did it anyway. He walked a clockwise circle three times, holding the pointer finger of his right hand out, and chanting,
"I conjure
thee, O great circle of power,
so that you
will be of me a boundary
Between the
world of men and realms of mighty spirits—
A meeting place
of perfect love, trust, peace, and joy,
Containing the
power I will raise within thee.
I call upon the
angels of the East, South, West, and North
To aid me in
the consecration.
In the name of
the Lord and the Lady
Thus I do
conjure thee,
O great circle of power!"
He lightly pounded the floor with his hand and said, "The Circle is Sealed." He called the quarters, or said a prayer to the Angels of the Earth (North), the Angels of the Air (East), angels of Fire (South) and the Angels of the Water (West). When he was finished he walked to the middle and said a prayer. He then sat down and began to meditate and pray to his chosen spirit, the one that could help him get into the better home. When he was finished with his lengthy ceremony, he had to call the quarters in reverse. After that, he had to walk the circle counterclockwise to release his holy circle. He held his index finger out again, and walked it three times. He pounded the north floor again and said,
"The Circle is
open, but never broken.
We are the
people, We are the power,
We
are the change!
So mote it be!"
The D'Angelo's youngest daughter, Kaylah, had witnessed this, and ran to her mother. "Mommy! He's doing the witchcraft again!" Eliza looked at him. "Why must you insist on performing that dreadful belief?" She said. "Hey! I don't go into your church, and bash your beliefs, do I? No, I don't! I respect your Christian beliefs, but I don't choose to follow them. Believe what you will, but don't knock my faith. Please." He said, going back into his room to change into his suit again. He straightened the tie and got into the D'Angelo van. They didn't say a word as he sat there, praying to his gods, minus the magic circle. They finally entered the courthouse, except for Joey. He waited for Dave and them. He silently looked to the sky and daydreamed. He met up with Stefano. "Ready?" He asked. Joey nodded and smiled a smile comparable to Dave's.
They rose, for the judge, and sat down again. There were at least two hours of argument over Joey. In those two hours, Eliza and Malcolm were both called to the stand, and interviewed. Malcolm didn't really hint too much that he wanted Joey to sat with him, or go with Dave. Eliza on the other hand, was a bitch about it.
Prosecutor: Why do you want the child?
Eliza: This boy needs a loving, Christian home.
P: Why your home, then?
E: He was raised as a heathen, not believing in a real God. He needs a God to believe in.
This pissed Joey off. Who the hell was she to call him a heathen? He sat there and bore it, as he knew that all would go well. After about 15 more minutes, she was allowed to go back. She smiled at Joey, which made him shudder a little. The prosecutor called Dave up to the stand.
P: Why do you want Joseph to live in your home?
D: He needs a loving home where his religion, as well as the rest of his ways and choices of life are accepted.
P: Hmmm…
Questioning him went on for a while before Joey was asked by the judge, what he wanted. Joey stood up and walked to the judge. "I want to live with Mr. Malucci." He said. "Why?" He asked. "I can't stand the D'Angelos. And In the days that I lived with him… they were the happiest of my life. With the D'Angelos, they were as bad as my father. They don't respect the way that I express myself, with the funky colored hair, or the jewelry, the clothes, everything. They want me to the good little Christian boy, with brown hair, and faith in their church, not my own. They want me to be something that I am not, and never really want to be! Please, let me live with someone that I know will love me, and respect me. Please, your honor. Thank you." He said, turning to sit down. There were a few people in the courtroom that were actually crying over the short speech. Particularly Dave. Joey sat down again and looked down, thinking that he wouldn't get it. He'd be stuck. There was some deliberation, and then the judge came back. "I have made my final decision. Joseph Ofarim, you are to live with…" He said. Joey's eyes looked up, hopeful. "Dave Malucci." He finished. Joey smiled the widest grin anyone had ever seen. He threw his arms around Stefano and whispered his thank you. Then he turned back to Dave. The two hugged as legal father and son.
A few days later, the two were at another legal office. "Are you sure?" Dave asked. "Yes." He said. Joey had decided on legally changing his last name of German descent, to Dave's of Italian descent. They signed a bunch of legal documents and then it was done. They then left for Joey to have a date with Alex. Joey Ofarim, was now a Malucci man, which meant that he was even more of a stud with this stallion name. Dave dropped him off at Alex's and watched as he ran up to where she was waiting on the porch.
He drove for a while and decided he had to visit someone to catch up on some times. He pulled into the driveway of a small Cape Cod style house and walked to the front door. He didn't have a chance to knock before his older brother answered. "Hey, Davey." Scott said, hugging his brother. He shook his head a little to get rid of the mosquito that was buzzing around. Dave smiled. His brother was so comical, even after all these years. He wasn't fat, but he wasn't underweight like he was as a teenager. He was still tall, and he had shaggy hair, not as long as Kid Rocks, but not as short as Dave's. He also had a small goatee, but that made him look pretty good. After all, that was one of the many goals of the Malucci monsters, er… men. Scott offered a coke to Dave. Dave shook his head. Before the two had been separated, they had vowed not to drink alcohol, unless it was a little champagne, to avoid being like their father. Four kids, two boys, and twin girls ran past him. "That's my kids, your nieces and nephews." The kids stopped and turned back. The girls were identical in physical make-up, but they dressed totally different. One had an army green t-shirt, cut off with scissors to expose her navel. She wore jeans that were fraying at the bottom form continual poundings. She had her brown hair tied up in a bun and smiled at Dave. Her twin wore short, short cutoffs, and a pink camouflage baby doll shirt. Her hair was worn down though. Then there was a boy, about 15, who had long brown hair, and a wise-ass grin on his face. (Think Joseph Gordon-Levitt, when he had long hair on 3rd Rock…) Then the youngest was about twelve and wore his Buffalo Sabres t-shirt, and had…red hair. (The kind that's natural, not Fire Engine Red, like I want to dye mine when the blue comes out for good.) Scott looked up at his Children. He pointed to the first twin, with the jeans. "Tandy." Then he moved to the second twin. "Carly." He pointed to the teenage boy. "Ryan." Then he pointed to the little redhead. "Steve." "And, kids? This is my brother, Dave." They smiled at him. "Hey! Do you know how to play Bullshit?" Ryan asked. Scott muttered something under his breath. "Yes, Scott. I know I'm full of it! And yes, I do know how to play." "Cool. Wanna?" He asked. Dave shrugged. Soon, they all had cards. "4 aces." Dave said, triumphantly. "BULL…SHIT!" Scott shouted. "Sonuvabitch!" Dave mumbled, taking the huge pile of cards. It was clear that he had lost this round. He folded and then Scott led him into the den to catch up on times.
Meanwhile, Joey and Alex were curled up in her bed. His large hand curled around her small one. "I love you." He whispered, kissing her cheek. She smiled. "I love you more." She said. "Uh uh!" "Uh-huh!" "Uh uh!" "Uh-huh!" They laughed together. "Well, I know that there aren't any school dances for a while, but do you want to go to the Edge?" He asked. She nodded. "Only if I can find a date." She said, smiling. He gently smacked her. "Ha Ha Ha! Very Funny, indeed." He said. She giggled. "Of course ill go." She said, kissing him, gently sliding her hands up his shirt and around to his back. He shivered. "Hey! That's cold!" He jumped. She laughed and then he kissed her again. She smiled and cuddled up to him. Neither said a word as they drifted off into sleep.
Dave and Scott looked at one another. "So, How was your life, after…well, you know…" "Well, I was adopted by a nice, little Jewish family in Manhattan. The Sterns." He said. (Hey, I'm listening to Howard Stern right now, and he's Jewish, so I stole the name. Whaddya want from me?) They respected my religion, as I did theirs. I actually incorporate both into my life, but I converted." Dave smiled. "Cool." "Anyway, I had a sister, my age and a brother just a year younger. I missed you like crazy." "Yeah, I missed you too. I mean, you were my older brother, and frankly, I idolized you." Dave said. Scott smiled. "For what?" "For being my companion in my youth. The one that survived life." Dave said. They looked down at the same time. "He still-" "In prison? Yeah. I write a letter every day to the jail asking. Every day I get a letter or a phone call back." Scott said. "Now, How about you? What is your life like?"
Yeah, I know. Weak ass ending to this story. I might do a sequel, based mostly on Joey and Alex, and Dave (of course.) But since I am home from school, I have a Placebo fic to post first, and then I might begin on a sequel. The part where Scott wrote a letter to the prison where their father is, was based on Gregg Allman. His father was murdered when he was just a little pipsqueak, and he wrote to the prison every day in his older years to make sure the murderer was still there. Eventually the guy got out though, and that kinda sucks, but… c'est la vie. And the Sabres shirt in Chicago? Well, it's my fic, and they are the only Buffalo (My hometown…sort of.) Sports team that Doesn't Suck Ass! We need one more game and we'll make it to the Cup game!!
Read, Review. Or don't. Whatever.
