~~~~~~~~~
Chapter Eleven
THE COMPROMISE AND THE QUEST
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Yes, it's just what I wanted. It's very nice. I'm going to enjoy using it."
Daria stared at the computer as if it were a signed death warrant. Jake and Helen had tried to give her as much attention as they gave Quinn, and had failed miserably. They'd really tried, and they couldn't do it. So she had given in and let it be known that she wanted the computer, as a way to let them off the hook. She blinked, then blinked again, then blinked twice.
"What is it, honey?"
"Oh... nothing." There was a slight quaver in Daria's voice.
"Come on, sweetie, is there something we can do for you?"
"Well..." Daria turned slowly to face Helen, hoping against hope. "Can you take me someplace where the people are like me? Just for a little while?"
"Daria, honey, you're a very special person. You're very bright, and perceptive, and..."
"And there is no place where the people are like me." Daria blinked again and a tear slid down her cheek. She turned rapidly away, as if resenting this display of weakness.
"...Too perceptive. Daria, there are places like that. There are special schools for gifted children, and there are colleges and universities for the best and the brightest. But there are no schools like that anywhere near Highland. I'm sorry."
Daria paused, then continued. "Oh. I thought maybe there were little towns or neighborhoods where smart people lived. What I wouldn't give to have just one person as smart as me to talk to. Oh, who am I kidding? This is Texas." She returned her gaze to the dark monitor screen.
Jake gazed sadly at his daughter. The loneliness in Daria's eyes was heartrending. Then he had a thought. "Maybe you could find some smart people to talk to on the internet, punkin. There must be lots of 'em on there!"
Slowly, Daria's face lit up. "Of course! You're right, Dad! They must be there, and if they are, I'll find them!" She was on the floor in a second, rummaging through all the literature that had come with the computer for Internet information. Smiling relievedly, Helen made shooing motions at Jake, and then quietly followed him out the door.
~~~~~~~~~
Later that night, in the master bedroom, Jake stared up at the ceiling. "Helen, do you really think she thinks she's smarter that we are?"
"Oh, Jake. She doesn't think it, she knows it. And she knows we know it."
"....Yeah."
"But the really sad thing is, I'm afraid she feels inferior to Quinn in spite of it. And I don't know what to do."
"Maybe if one of us took her somewhere she wants to go, spent a day with her. Just Daria. No Quinn."
Helen rolled her head on the pillow to look at her husband. She laid a hand on his arm. "That's a good idea, honey, but the places she wants to go are all in big cities, like museums, or places like Carlsbad Caverns. They're all so far away. She hates Highland."
"Yeah, so do I."
"And we have so little free time these days."
"....Yeah." Silence for a moment, then "I guess she'll be on the internet a lot for a while, but I think we should ask her anyway. Where she'd like to go, I mean. I'd kind of like to go to Carlsbad Caverns myself."
Helen chuckled. "I won't fight you for that one, dear. If she wants to go to a cave full of bats, you can take her."
"Bats?! Ew-w-w-w!"
~~~~~~~~~
Daria lay in bed, idly scanning the childish decorations running along the tops of her bedroom walls by the dim illumination of the night-light. She ached to repaint those walls, but her mother had done the decorating herself, and still thought it was 'precious'. Daria hadn't yet decided on a plan of action, and anyway, the time wasn't yet ripe for it. She'd ask nicely a few more times.
Time. So precious, so scarce. Daria still wasn't getting anywhere near an equal amount of her parents' time, and probably never would. Not that she needed or wanted that much. Too much of their attention would be as bad as or worse than not enough. They were at least making an effort now. And Daria had come to realize that her parents weren't getting as much time as they should for themselves either. That was probably why they hadn't read those articles she'd cited in their magazines or the paper. They were lucky if one of them could get off after just eight hours to check on her and Quinn, and they often had to work Saturdays. They didn't seem to be doing it just because they wanted the extra money. But they were grownups. No one could make them work if they didn't want to, could they? She should ask them about that.
Her keen hearing told her that her parents were in bed and had finished talking. Apparently they weren't going to start a discussion or an argument, or that other thing. She sat up and turned on the light on her nightstand. Rearranging her pillows to support her in a semi-sitting position, she picked up the book the librarian had helped her find. Harriet had stopped remarking incredulously on Daria's book selections, but Daria suspected she still didn't totally believe she was actually reading them. Opening The Encyclopedia of Philosophy to the bookmark, she soon finished the relevant parts of the section she'd been reading. Cognitive Relativism wasn't what she was looking for. Those people obviously did not want to see things as they really were. Turning the page, she started on the next section, Cynicism.
La la LA la la.
I'd like to thank my beta readers: Renfield, Kermie, Thea Zara, Robert Nowall, Wyvern, Brother Grimace, Mman, and Ben Breeck, for all their contradictory advice. Seriously, this story is a lot better because of them.
Disclaimer
"Daria" and all related characters are trademarks of MTV Networks, a division of Viacom International, inc. The author does not claim copyright to these characters or to anything else in the "Daria" milieu; he does, however, claim copyright to all those parts of this work of fiction which are original to him and not to MTV or to other fanfic authors. This fanfic may be freely copied and distributed provided its contents remain unchanged, provided the author's name and email address are included, and provided that the distributor does not use it for monetary profit. (as if.)
Galen Hardesty [gehardesty@yahoo com]
Chapter Eleven
THE COMPROMISE AND THE QUEST
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Yes, it's just what I wanted. It's very nice. I'm going to enjoy using it."
Daria stared at the computer as if it were a signed death warrant. Jake and Helen had tried to give her as much attention as they gave Quinn, and had failed miserably. They'd really tried, and they couldn't do it. So she had given in and let it be known that she wanted the computer, as a way to let them off the hook. She blinked, then blinked again, then blinked twice.
"What is it, honey?"
"Oh... nothing." There was a slight quaver in Daria's voice.
"Come on, sweetie, is there something we can do for you?"
"Well..." Daria turned slowly to face Helen, hoping against hope. "Can you take me someplace where the people are like me? Just for a little while?"
"Daria, honey, you're a very special person. You're very bright, and perceptive, and..."
"And there is no place where the people are like me." Daria blinked again and a tear slid down her cheek. She turned rapidly away, as if resenting this display of weakness.
"...Too perceptive. Daria, there are places like that. There are special schools for gifted children, and there are colleges and universities for the best and the brightest. But there are no schools like that anywhere near Highland. I'm sorry."
Daria paused, then continued. "Oh. I thought maybe there were little towns or neighborhoods where smart people lived. What I wouldn't give to have just one person as smart as me to talk to. Oh, who am I kidding? This is Texas." She returned her gaze to the dark monitor screen.
Jake gazed sadly at his daughter. The loneliness in Daria's eyes was heartrending. Then he had a thought. "Maybe you could find some smart people to talk to on the internet, punkin. There must be lots of 'em on there!"
Slowly, Daria's face lit up. "Of course! You're right, Dad! They must be there, and if they are, I'll find them!" She was on the floor in a second, rummaging through all the literature that had come with the computer for Internet information. Smiling relievedly, Helen made shooing motions at Jake, and then quietly followed him out the door.
~~~~~~~~~
Later that night, in the master bedroom, Jake stared up at the ceiling. "Helen, do you really think she thinks she's smarter that we are?"
"Oh, Jake. She doesn't think it, she knows it. And she knows we know it."
"....Yeah."
"But the really sad thing is, I'm afraid she feels inferior to Quinn in spite of it. And I don't know what to do."
"Maybe if one of us took her somewhere she wants to go, spent a day with her. Just Daria. No Quinn."
Helen rolled her head on the pillow to look at her husband. She laid a hand on his arm. "That's a good idea, honey, but the places she wants to go are all in big cities, like museums, or places like Carlsbad Caverns. They're all so far away. She hates Highland."
"Yeah, so do I."
"And we have so little free time these days."
"....Yeah." Silence for a moment, then "I guess she'll be on the internet a lot for a while, but I think we should ask her anyway. Where she'd like to go, I mean. I'd kind of like to go to Carlsbad Caverns myself."
Helen chuckled. "I won't fight you for that one, dear. If she wants to go to a cave full of bats, you can take her."
"Bats?! Ew-w-w-w!"
~~~~~~~~~
Daria lay in bed, idly scanning the childish decorations running along the tops of her bedroom walls by the dim illumination of the night-light. She ached to repaint those walls, but her mother had done the decorating herself, and still thought it was 'precious'. Daria hadn't yet decided on a plan of action, and anyway, the time wasn't yet ripe for it. She'd ask nicely a few more times.
Time. So precious, so scarce. Daria still wasn't getting anywhere near an equal amount of her parents' time, and probably never would. Not that she needed or wanted that much. Too much of their attention would be as bad as or worse than not enough. They were at least making an effort now. And Daria had come to realize that her parents weren't getting as much time as they should for themselves either. That was probably why they hadn't read those articles she'd cited in their magazines or the paper. They were lucky if one of them could get off after just eight hours to check on her and Quinn, and they often had to work Saturdays. They didn't seem to be doing it just because they wanted the extra money. But they were grownups. No one could make them work if they didn't want to, could they? She should ask them about that.
Her keen hearing told her that her parents were in bed and had finished talking. Apparently they weren't going to start a discussion or an argument, or that other thing. She sat up and turned on the light on her nightstand. Rearranging her pillows to support her in a semi-sitting position, she picked up the book the librarian had helped her find. Harriet had stopped remarking incredulously on Daria's book selections, but Daria suspected she still didn't totally believe she was actually reading them. Opening The Encyclopedia of Philosophy to the bookmark, she soon finished the relevant parts of the section she'd been reading. Cognitive Relativism wasn't what she was looking for. Those people obviously did not want to see things as they really were. Turning the page, she started on the next section, Cynicism.
La la LA la la.
I'd like to thank my beta readers: Renfield, Kermie, Thea Zara, Robert Nowall, Wyvern, Brother Grimace, Mman, and Ben Breeck, for all their contradictory advice. Seriously, this story is a lot better because of them.
Disclaimer
"Daria" and all related characters are trademarks of MTV Networks, a division of Viacom International, inc. The author does not claim copyright to these characters or to anything else in the "Daria" milieu; he does, however, claim copyright to all those parts of this work of fiction which are original to him and not to MTV or to other fanfic authors. This fanfic may be freely copied and distributed provided its contents remain unchanged, provided the author's name and email address are included, and provided that the distributor does not use it for monetary profit. (as if.)
Galen Hardesty [gehardesty@yahoo com]