Written in response to a fanfic challenge by Vanessa Quest
"You're very quiet this evening,"
Jessie Bannon observed from her position at the computer desk in the family
room of the Quest Mansion in Maine. The
object of her concern lounged in the large reading chair near the windows,
staring vacantly at the television set.
When there was no response to her comment, she raised her voice slightly
and said, "Hey, hotshot! Earth to
Jonny . . . helloooooo!!!!"
"Hmmm, what?" he said, starting
violently. He blinked at her
owlishly. "Did you say
something?"
"What the heck is wrong with you
tonight? I don't think you've said ten
words all evening, not to mention you seem to be about a thousand miles
away. Something bothering you?"
Jonny looked at her and then his eyes slid
away uneasily. "No. Nothing's bothering me. Just don't have much to say, I guess. I was engrossed in the TV."
"Man, you are the worst liar I have ever
met," she replied disgustedly.
"Who are you calling a liar?" Jonny
demanded, sitting up in his chair and glaring at her.
"You!
Engrossed in the TV, my foot.
Since when have you become a
fan of Dynasty reruns?"
"Huh?" Jonny turned and stared at the TV set, only to see Joan Collins
and Linda Evans glaring at each other.
"Oh," he said weakly.
"I – I guess I didn't realize the show had changed."
"Obviously. So what's bugging you?"
Jonny slumped back in the chair and
shrugged. "I dunno."
"Well, what were you thinking
about?" she wheedled, unwilling to let it go. Something was obviously disturbing him. With Hadji out on a date, and her dad and Dr. Quest all wrapped
up in an experiment out in the lighthouse, it appeared that it would be up to
her to find out what was wrong.
He shifted uneasily and was quiet for so long
that Jessie thought he wasn't going to answer.
Finally, he replied reluctantly, "Palm Key."
Uh
oh, Jessie thought silently. "What about it?" she asked him
carefully.
"Just something I got thinking
about. It's no big thing."
"Jonny . . ." she started, but his
expression stopped her.
"I said it's nothing. Just drop it." After a moment, he rose. "I'm beat. I think I'll call it a night.
See ya tomorrow." Shoulders
hunched and hands thrust into his pockets, he wandered out of the room
distractedly, not even noticing that it was only 8:30 p.m.
*****
Several hours later, a soft knock on his door
caused Jonny to jump again.
"Yeah?"
The door opened and light washed into the
darkened room. Hadji stood there, a
dark silhouette against the brightness in the hall.
"May I come in, my friend?"
Jonny sat up and flipped on the bedside
light. "Sure, Hadj. What's up?"
Closing the door behind him, Hadji came in and
sat down on the end of the bed. "I
believe that is a question I should be asking you. Jessie says that you are distressed. Will you tell me what is bothering you?"
"Why can't she just leave me alone?"
he asked irritably. "I told her
it's nothing."
"She is just concerned, Jonny. And I believe she has the right to be. You are
upset. What has happened?"
Jonny sighed in frustration. "Look, really, it's nothing. It's just that . . . well, this afternoon
something started me thinking . . ."
"About Palm Key."
Jonny leaned back against the headboard and a
sad smile touched his lips.
"Yeah. About Palm Key . . .
and Mom."
"Tell me about it," Hadji said
softly, stretching out on the end of the bed and propping himself up on an
elbow.
Jonny smiled again and his eyes took on a
dreamy, far away look. "It was
storm season and there was a hurricane brewing in the Caribbean . . ."
*****
"Pleeeaaasssseeeee, Daddy!"
"Jonny, I said no," Benton replied
firmly, turning from his lab bench to give his six-year-old son a stern look. "I have a meeting at the end of the week
with the scientists from Washington and I'm behind on this testing. I simply don't have the time to play right
now."
"Then can I go outside?"
Benton shook his head. "No, son, I'm sorry. There's a hurricane off the Bahamas and it's
moving this way. The wind is starting
to come up and they're predicting bad weather.
I don't want you out wandering around on the island. You're just going to have to find something
to do in the house."
"But the sun's shining and it looks
really pretty out," his son insisted.
"I would stay on the beach near the house. I promise."
Finally, Benton gave up in frustration. "Jonny, I have to get back to
this. Go ask your mother."
Jonny turned and ran out of the lab. The last time he had seen his mother, she
was in the kitchen. She was still
there, but she was talking to someone on the phone. He fidgeted restlessly, waiting for her to finish. She smiled at him absently, as she said,
"The molecular structure is certainly similar. I won't argue that point.
But the reactivity quotient is totally different. It simply won't work as a substitute in the
experiment."
"Mama," Jonny said, his impatience
finally getting the better of him.
Rachel smiled at him and ruffled his hair, but her attention remained
focused on her telephone conversation.
"Mama!" he repeated insistently, tugging on her shirt.
Rachel frowned at him. "Jonny, I'm on the phone. You'll have to wait until I'm finished. Just be patient. I'm so sorry, Dr. Valenkov.
What were you saying about the first trial results?"
"I'm gonna go out to the beach,
Mama," Jonny said hopefully, backing slowly toward the door. Rachel just waved at him absently. With that, Jonny spun and dove out the back
door before his mother could think twice.
As he crossed the yard toward the path that
led down to the beach, Jonny noticed how windy it really was. He was used to wind . . . there was always a
breeze that blew in off of the ocean.
But today, rather than the soft steady wind that he was accustomed to,
it was gusting unpredictably causing the palms that bordered the beach to bob
and sway fitfully. And the sky along
the eastern horizon was a funny shade of blue-gray. But getting a little wind-blown was much better than being stuck
in the house.
He had intended to start a sand castle, but
when he got down to the beach, he discovered that the increased wind was
beginning to stir up the ocean and the surf was crashing in on the beach with
unusual violence. Jonny contemplated
the foaming water uneasily and then decided that maybe he wouldn't play down
there after all. As he watched, a
sudden movement caught his eye. He
turned his head and watched a rock crab scurry across the sand and disappear
into the foaming surf.
An idea suddenly occurred to Jonny. His mother loved crabs. The two of them often went out and collected
them to fix for dinner. There was a
sheltered saltwater cove about halfway down the beach and a bit inland. It was small, barely even big enough to
canoe in, but there were always a lot of crabs along the rocky edge of the
pool. And because it was set back quite
a ways from the beach, surrounded by tall palms and dense vegetation, it would
be sheltered from the rising wind. With
a grin, he jumped forward, grabbed up his big sand bucket, and set off down the
beach for the cove.
*****
Jonny straightened and tossed his latest prize
into the sand bucket. He'd been right
in thinking that he would be able to find crabs for his mother here. In fact, there were more than normal in the
cove and his bucket was almost full. He
shivered, feeling cold. He looked
around him and suddenly realized that the sun was no longer shining. The funny blue-gray that had been hovering
along the horizon when he came out of the house had spread across the sky, and
was starting to turn sinister and dark.
The wind had also changed. It
was blowing steadily again, but now it was with a fierceness that was whipping
the tops of the trees surrounding the cove wildly. Jonny looked around him and realized that the water in the cove
was also rising, backwashing in through the seaward inlet. Water swirled angrily around his thighs as
Jonny waded through the channel to get out of the cove and back to the
beach. As he exited the shelter of the trees,
the full force of the wind struck him, causing him to stagger and fall to his
knees. Almost immediately, he was
slapped in the face with cold salt water, as the building storm surge flung
large, foaming waves against the shore.
Coughing violently, Jonny staggered to his
feet again, still clutching his bucket.
He was afraid now, remembering what his father had said about the
weather. As he turned back toward the
house, trying desperately to stay near the treeline and away from the raging
water, the heavens opened up and it began to pour.
Time seemed to stretch into eternity as he
fought his way through the raging storm, trying desperately to get home. He shivered steadily, the cold rain and
ocean spray having long since soaked him to the skin. But he wouldn't give up, stubbornly fighting his way onward. His whole world narrowed down to the fierce
struggle to stay upright and put one foot in front of the other. So intense was his concentration that he
didn't see his father until Benton scooped him up and ran for the house.
Benton staggered in through the back door and
dumped his son unceremoniously onto his mother's wicker patio chair. Then Benton turned and fought to secure the
back door against the raging wind and driving rain. Jonny barely had the chance to set the bucket that he had clung
to so tenaciously onto the floor, before his mother pounced on him. The next several minutes were a kaleidoscope
of confused memories: of being wrapped
in huge towels and rubbed smartly back into warmth; of his mother babbling
incoherently while tears poured down her cheeks; of his father, shaken and
white, running his hands up and down his body and insistently asking him if he
was hurt. The last things he remembered
were being carried to his room by his father and the wild wailing of the wind
beating against the house.
*****
When he woke up, the morning sunshine was
spilling in the open window and a soft, warm breeze ruffled his hair. He rolled over and found his mother sitting
beside the bed. When she saw he was
awake, she leaned forward and brushed the hair off of his forehead gently. "How do you feel?" she asked him.
"I'm okay, Mama." He turned his head and peered out the window
again. "Is the storm gone?"
"Yes, darling, it's gone." Then she shook her head at him. "You should never have gone outside
yesterday, Jonny. Your father told you
not to."
"No, Mama. Daddy said I should ask you.
And when I told you I was going to go to the beach, I thought you said
it was okay."
Rachel looked at her son sternly. "I said no such thing. If I had realized that's what you were doing
. . ." Then she sighed and reached
out to stroke his hair again. "But
that's not the point. You are never to
do anything like this ever again. Do
you understand me?" When Jonny
tried to look away, she forced his head up so he had to meet her gaze. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she
added, "You could have been killed.
Your father and I were frantic."
"Yes, Mama," Jonny replied,
downcast. He looked up at her through
his eyelashes. "Is Daddy really
mad?"
An impish smile tugged at the corners of her
mouth. "Well, he was for a while,
but I think he's gotten over it. Now
he's just concentrating on your punishment, I think."
Jonny's groan was heartfelt and Rachel laughed
outright. "Come on, let's get you
up and dressed. I suspect you could use
some breakfast."
Jonny was tying his shoes when a sudden
thought caused him to brighten. He
looked up at his mother, his sapphire eyes sparkling in excitement. "I almost forgot! I got a present for you, Mama!" With that, he erupted out of his room at a
run, almost striking his father as he bolted through the living room.
"Jonathan! You know better than to run in the house," his father called
after his retreating back. The two of
them followed Jonny into the kitchen.
Benton stopped just inside the door, but Rachel crossed the room,
intending to follow her young son out onto the porch. Before she had the chance, Jonny reappeared at the door with the
bucket in hand.
"I got these for you!" he said
triumphantly and held it out to her. At
the very bottom of the bucket were two rather waterlogged rock crabs. One of them waved its claws at the two heads
that peered into the bucket as though protesting the disruption. Jonny's smile dimmed slightly as he looked
up at his mother. "There aren't
many left. I had it full."
Rachel and Benton exchanged a look and as one
they both glanced at the service porch.
Then Rachel looked down at her son again and smiled. "They're wonderful, Jonny. Thank you." Wrapping her arms around him, she pulled him back against her and
hugged him tightly. Then they looked up
at Benton, who just smiled at them fondly.
*****
"We were chasing crabs all over the house
for weeks," Jonny said as Hadji lay back on the bed, laughing. "Somehow, I must have gotten almost all
of them home through the storm, and overnight most of them managed to find a
way out of the bucket. God only knows
how. For a while, I even started having
nightmares about rock crabs attacking me in bed at night."
"I believe you deserved it," his
brother said with a grin.
"Yeah, I probably did," Jonny
agreed, chuckling. "It took Dad
and Mom several months to convince me that they weren't lying in wait for
me."
"So what caused you to remember this,
after all of these years?" Hadji asked, watching him closely.
"I don't know. I just got feeling a little down . . . missing Mom I think . . .
and that started me thinking," Jonny replied. Then he stopped, looking thoughtful. "Wait . . . I do know what it was. It was the look."
"What look?" Hadji asked, looking
puzzled.
"The look on Dad's face this
afternoon. You know, right before Jess
and I raced each other back to the house on the hoverboards."
"You mean after we had beaten Surd's
tampering with the MegaQuest game and got you and Jessie out of it alive?"
Hadji asked dryly.
"Yeah.
It was the exact same look he gave Mom and I all of those years
ago." Jonny looked up and this
time Hadji saw that the sorrow that had lurked behind his eyes earlier was
gone. "He looked happy . . . like
he did that day. I think it's the first
time I've seen him look like that since Mom died."
"The threads of time mend all wounds, my
friend," Hadji replied, standing up and stretching leisurely. "Even ones as deep as the one left by
the death of your mother."
"Yeah, I guess you're right." Jonny smiled at his friend. "Thanks, Hadj. I feel better."
"I am glad. Now, I believe I am going to go to bed. I also believe that you will sleep better if you get ready for
bed rather than just lying on top of the blankets."
Jonny laughed and stood up. "Right as usual."
"Sleep well, Jonny."
"You too, Hadj." Just as the door was closing, Jonny heard
his brother get in one final shot.
"And don't let the rock crabs bite . .
."
THE END
© 2001 Debbie Kluge
DISCLAIMER: The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest
and all characters, logos, and likenesses therein, are trademarks of and
copyrighted by Hanna-Barbera Productions, Inc., and Hanna-Barbera Cartoons,
Inc., a Turner company. No copyright infringement is intended by their use in
this story. All other material, copyright 2001 by Deborah A. Kluge. All rights reserved. Characters and stories are in no way
affiliated with, approved of or endorsed by Hanna Barbera or Turner
Productions. This is created by a fan for other fans out of love and respect
for the show, and is strictly a non-profit endeavor.
