Stuck in Lawndale
By
Neal C.
A
Message from Me to Me
For me waking up is an hours long process, and it comes in stages. These stages are best illustrated by the sounds I make while in them.
Deep sleep:
"ZZZZzzzzZZZZ."
Doze:
"mmmrph…wha?"
Waking:
"mmmmgothefuckawaylemmesleepmmmm."
Awake:
"Coffeeeee."
I usually
switch from one stage to the next gradually. But today was different.
"mmmrph…wha?" Wait…whazzat? Damn, it's soft, kinda
like…Holy Shit!
I
opened my eyes, not moving any other muscles. There was Jane lying on her back, thankfully still asleep, wearing my
shirt. Then there was me on my stomach
beside her. Then there was the fact
that my arm disappeared upward under her hiked up shirt. I'll give you three guesses as to the
whereabouts of my hand… but I think you'll only need one.
Shit! Shit! Shit! Aw, hell. This is
definitely awkward. Catch-22, if I move
I'll wake her up and then I'll never hear the end of it. But if I don't move someone else is bound to
find us, and I'll never hear the end of it. It's too early for this kind of decision. I need Coffeeeee.
And
that's how I went from Doze to Awake in under thirty seconds, and on the day
after a party no less. It was
definitely a new world record. I lay
there and smirked at the turn of events, pondering what to do. Then the situation resolved itself.
"Like that do
you?" Jane turned her head to look at me.
My eyes
widened. "Jane! I uh… and well uh… I was asleep, I swear I didn't…"
"It's about
damn time actually." She smirked and rested her hand on top of the one I had
under her borrowed shirt. "Oh, rough
hands. You are a musician."
"That's my
strumming hand. This is my fretting
hand." I rolled to face her, without
moving my right hand from its place. Then ran my left hand along her exposed side. She shivered.
"Definitely a
musician. Wow." She let me slide my hand out from under the
shirt. I put one hand on either side of
her jaw and gently tilted her head up. I was about to kiss her when someone pounded on the front door.
"Damn!"
"Don't listen,
maybe they'll go away. It's probably
someone who left something in the warehouse last night. They can come back later." But the pounding didn't stop. So I rolled off the futon and threw my pants
on.
I waded through
the dump that is Jesse and Max's kitchen, toward the front door while whoever
it was kept pounding. "Hold on I'm
coming Dammit!" I threw the door open.
"This had better be damn good. I mean
'There's been a brutal murder and I need a fucking phone!' good!"
Then I looked
at the visitor. He was tall,
lanky. He wore a boonie hat with a
white feather stuck in the hatband, round glasses and a moustache.
"You must be
Neal." He sounded like a male Daria.
"Have we met?" I
don't remember him from last night.
"Not
physically. But we do know each other."
He stuck out his hand. "I'm Napalm Krigbaum."
"Napalm!?" I
shook his hand.
"The one and
only." He smirked.
"Come on
in. How did you get here? How did you know where to find me?"
"I'll explain
it all in due time. But I just had a
helluva trip. Got any coffee?" He looked around the kitchen and sat at the
table.
"Uh sure… I
hope." I fumbled around the kitchen for
a minute finally finding a can of Folgers. I set up the coffee pot and started it up. Then Jane walked in still wearing my shirt.
"I smell
coffee." She looked around, eyes settling on Napalm. "Who's this?"
"A friend of
mine." I said sitting down across from him
"Friend?"
Napalm stood up
and offered his hand, which Jane took. "I'm Napalm."
Jane arched an
eyebrow. "Napalm?" She looked at me.
"Where'd you pick this guy up?"
"Well remember
all those other 'loser' fanfic writers…"
Jane looked
shocked. "So he's a… Like you… Whoa I gotta sit down." She thudded down in the chair to my right. "So how'd he get here?"
I
shrugged. "He was just about to
explain, right Napalm."
He nodded. "Right." He sat back down. "First off, I'm here because you wrote me in."
"What? I haven't written anything, and I can't
control what happens here anyway."
"No, you
didn't. But You did. You see, you're
like… well, you're only as real as Jane and Daria and Trent. You are part of the story. You're a way for the real you to see how he'd react to these situations. Kind of a mental self-diagnostic. Though in my opinion it's far to late for
that."
My jaw
dropped. I'm not real…so this is how Jane felt. "So I'm not real?" Jane reached over and took my hand.
"I didn't say
that. You are real, you eat, drink,
breath, feel, love." He looked at Jane on that last word. "This is a real a world as our original one
is. The real you doesn't dictate your life, he just looks in from time to
time to see what you're doing. So don't do anything stupid in the shower. You know how when you're writing the
characters seem to take on a life of their own? That's because they do… That sounds sappy."
"So we are all
real?" Jane asked.
"You bleed
don't you, you can die can't you?" Napalm said.
"I guess." Jane
looked shaken.
"So if we are
real. What's that make you?"
He shrugged. "A
courier. You see, my green card only
allows me to stay for a month at the most. Damn immigration officials. Then you guys go about your lives."
"A courier?" I
asked
"Yeah, I have a
message from Neal to thee." He reached into the breast pocket of his field
jacket and pulled out a small manila envelope. "Here. And if it blows up, remember it's from you not me."
I opened the
envelope. Inside were a few sheets of
paper, a bundle of cards and a pair of keys. "What's all this?"
"Dunno, I wasn't
supposed to open it. All I can tell you
is it's from the real you."
I looked over the papers. One was a letter from me.
Hey man,
I know this has to be a major blow to your world. But you gotta keep going. Enclosed in this packet are your high school
diploma (you now officially graduated from San Dimas High(the football rules)),
the title and keys to your new conveyance (you'll find it in Sam's Storage, out by Pizza Forest), and your social
security card, birth certificate (You are now Neal Chaucer) and driver's
license.
That's it… I just wanna wish you luck. Go get a job at a recording studio or put a band together. (I
probably won't have time to do either ever again.) Napalm's gonna stick around for awhile, that's what he wanted for
doing this job and it wasn't that much to ask so show him around. And for God's sake treat Jane right, she's
good for you, you loser.
C'ya
Neal C.
"What's it say?" Jane asked.
"It says I get
to start over." I rolled my eyes. "As Neal Chaucer"
"Sounds
English, ever write any good tales?" Napalm said
"Yeah. But I would have chosen something
different. So… what do we do now?"
"We should wait
for everyone to wake up and introduce Napalm." Jane said.
I nodded. So we sat and drank coffee and made small
talk for about thirty minutes. Each of
us was enveloped in our own thoughts. Then Daria entered. She, of
course, was used to being awake in the morning and was fully dressed and
functional.
She looked at
the motley crew sitting around the table. There I was wearing only fatigue pants. Jane was wearing my shirt. Then
there was Napalm, who she had never seen before at all. She raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, now this
may be sleep deprivation affecting my mind. But this is one weird setting to see first thing in the morning."
I acted
innocent. "Why, whatever are you talking about?"
Daria put her
index finger to her chin as if in thought. "Well, let's see. It's so hard to put my finger on. First there's you wearing only your
pants. Then there's Jane, who was
supposed to share the bed with me, sitting next to you and wearing your
shirt. So I can only guess what that
means, although I'm sure I'll hear all about it later. Whether I want to or not. Third… who's this guy?"
I looked over at Napalm. He was transfixed, looking vaguely
reminiscent of a deer in the headlights.
"Daria, I want
you to meet a friend of mine. This is
Napalm."
"Napalm? He doesn't have an obsession with fire does he?"
"Not that I
know of." I kicked him under the
table. That seemed to snap him out of
it.
"Uh hey. I'm Napalm." He gave a slight two fingered
wave.
"So I
heard. I'm Daria."
"I bet you are." Napalm said transfixed.
" I didn't see you at the party last night."
"I wasn't at
the party. My Monaco broke down, had to push it… long story." He gave me a sidelong glance.
"Then how did
you know where to find Neal?"
Napalm turned
to me as if to say, 'What do I tell her?' I put up my hand in a stopping gesture. Then said, "Well you know how I said there
were other writer's besides me."
"Yeah… Wait,
you mean he's one?"
I nodded.
"So how did he
get here?"
Napalm and I
looked at each other and I sighed. I motioned for Daria to sit down. Then we went about explaining what had
happened for the second time today…
"And here he
is." I finished.
"So what do we
tell everyone else about him?" Daria asked
"We tell them
the same thing we told them about me. He's one of my friends from out of town, which is certainly true." I looked at Napalm. He was still enamored with Daria. I reached across the table and poked him.
"Ain't that right Napalm?"
"Wha… Oh, yeah
sure."
I raised an
eyebrow. Wow, he's really got it.
"Well it's
almost noon, I suggest that we wake up the spiral, and restore the warehouse to
its original state of disrepair. Then
we go pick up your wheels, Geoffrey."
I rolled my
eyes. "Bad lit reference Daria. Okay, I
guess your right. Time for cleanup
hell. But I gotta get dressed." I wiggled my eyebrows at Jane then headed
for the bedroom.
She raised an
eyebrow. "And I've gotta return his shirt. C'ya!" She gave a half wave as she got up.
As we entered
the bedroom I heard Daria say, "I guess they won't be cleaning up."
"Okay, what
happened to taking it slow?" Jane said as she took off my shirt and sat down on
the bed.
"Nothing. I just wanted to leave Napalm and Daria
alone. It's my turn to play Yenta." I
gave an evil grin, which was soon reflected by Jane.
"Oh, I
see. You like messing with your
friends' minds."
I touched my
nose like in charades. "It's kinda like watching the way Daria used to be
around Trent."
"She's still
like that, you just have to know what to look for."
I thought about
it. I guess maybe it is still
there… I gotta watch more closely.
"Um… I'm kinda
cold over here." Jane said, crossing her arms.
"Then let me
warm you up." I sat down beside her and
held her close. She smiled, not a smirk
but an actual smile. I'm a gentleman so
I won't describe anything that came next. But for those who want to know, no we didn't…close, but like I said, I'm
a gentleman.
We emerged into
the warehouse, dressed and ready for the day, an hour or so later. By then, as Daria had predicted, the
"cleanup" was done. And to my surprise
there was Napalm's 'bluesmobile' up on blocks in the warehouse bay. With Max, in oily coveralls, hanging halfway
out from under the hood.
"Hey guys! Over here." Napalm called.
I looked
over. Daria, Napalm and Trent were
sitting on some crates. Trent had a
small Marshall practice amp set up and was playing some basic blues while
Napalm improvised on the harmonica. On
our way over I grabbed Jesse's acoustic.
"Hey Trent where's
Jesse and Nick?"
"Napalm told us
about your car so they went to pick it up. Jess said something about payment for letting you drive the Tank."
I hung my head.
"Aw hell." Next time don't leave keys on table.
Jane and I sat
down. Trent kept playing the twelve bar
rhythm, I improvised on the guitar and Napalm improvised on the harp. We didn't sound half bad, considering I
usually play punk and Trent usually plays neo-grunge.
After a while
we heard the Monaco start up. Along
with a triumphant yell from Max. "I am Invincible!"
I rolled my
eyes. "Now let's hope the car is."
Napalm looked offended. "Hey that baby's got a cop motor of four hundred and forty cubic inch plant, it's got cop tires, cop suspension, cop shocks. Whaddaya say is it the bluesmobile or what?" Jane, Daria, Trent and I just kinda stared at Napalm. "What?"
Max walked up holding a small metallic object. "Fix the
cigarette lighter."
Just then we heard a low reverberating thunder. It was steadily getting closer and louder.
"I know that sound." I said. Then Jesse pulled in riding a very customized Harley chopper.
"Wooooo! Neal's a
Harley Man! Yeah!" Jesse yelled as he brought the bike to a stop. "The keys
were for the gate and the door lock at the garage. Its gotta kick starter. You gotta ride with me sometime man, that thing is fuckin' awesome."
"You own a motorcycle?" Well, I guess it fits.
"'Couple."
"Cool… Hey Jane, wanna go for a ride?"
"Effin' A right I do."
I straddled the bike and stomped the starter. It roared to life, I sat down and Jane
jumped on behind me.
"Hold on to your butt."
"How 'bout I hold on to yours?" She put her arms around my waist. With that I gunned it out of there with the roar of the engine
and the applause of the Spiral and Napalm in my ears. Life is good for Dharma Bums like me.
Authors Notes: First off I would like to thank Napalm for all his help and for the Title for this fic. Next, are Jane and I gonna take it to the next level? I'm not telling just yet. Will Daria and Napalm hook up? I dunno. Does Daria still like Trent? Maybe. You'll get your answers in my next fics so keep reading. As always I'm open to critiques or praise or a good bashing at NetUrza@hotmail.com. And if anyone gets the Ataris (punk band) reference Email and tell me… You won't win anything but I wanna know how many people know.
As always I have
to mar my art with a disclaimer. Daria
and the Daria cast do not belong to me the belong to Mtv. And I'm running out of whore jokes for Mtv
and Viacom so I just won't have one for this installment.
