Disclaimer: The characters from The Pretender don't belong to me, I think they still belong to NBC, I'm not sure but I do know that they aren't mine. I'm only borrowing them. The characters from Malcolm in the Middle don't belong to me either, they belong to Fox. I would also like to give credit to Craig Van Sickle, Steven Long Mitchell and Linwood Boomer for creating all of the wonderful characters I am using in this story, and thank them for the countless hours of entertainment both shows have provided me with.
Author's Note: The plot thickens. There will be more. It will come sooner this time. I promise. Also this story is dedicated to the wonderful people at TNT who aired the Pretender: Island of the Haunted recently. Here's to TNT! I hope we get more movies!
JAROD IN THE MIDDLE 11/?
The rest of the day was rather uneventful. At Lois' insistence, after a breakfast of mushy cereal and sugary orange punch, Jarod had lain back down on the couch and relaxed for the rest of the day, in between throwing up from the nausea he still felt. 'Too much, too soon' thought Jarod. 'I'll have to give it a few days before I'll start to feel better again.' Still, it did feel good to relax, something he didn't get much time to do in between running from the Centre and his Pretends. That was what he had become a substitute teacher to do, right? He had meant it as a bit of a break. And he had to admit that it felt really good to be sick and have someone looking out for him.
It only took a few hours for Jarod to realize that he wasn't going to be able to relax. It was hard for him to even begin to relax around the Wilkerson's. When Jarod finally fell asleep after two hours of tossing and turning, Malcolm had come into the living room, yelling and screaming at his brother, and jumped on him. He'd then picked up the TV remote control and cranked the television up to full volume and played video games with his brothers until his mother came in, caught him and dragged him by his ear to his bedroom. And that made it even harder for Jarod to sleep, as she yelled at Malcolm and berated him for close to an hour for not respecting their guest and for breaking his punishment. Even though she was in another room with the door closed, he could still hear every word of her tirade. She even tacked an extra two weeks on to his grounding. Jarod was annoyed at Malcolm, but he almost felt sorry for him at the same time. He was, after all, in the middle of their living room, and he knew that Malcolm was probably bored. Jarod felt a pang of guilt as he realized that Malcolm's punishment was his fault to begin with.
Lois left for work finally and everything was quiet for maybe an hour when Dewey came crashing into the room with what appeared to be all of Lois' pots and pans and kitchen utensils and began to bang and crash them together, and play them like drums. All this, while singing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" at the top of his lungs. Jarod's peace and quiet was once again disrupted. The thing that really annoyed Jarod, though, even in the middle of all this, was that the boy was just singing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." Not the verses, not the chorus, just "Twinkle Twinkle..." repeatedly over and over again. Jarod took his pillow and put it over his head to drown out the sound but it didn't help. This went on for half and hour until Hal came in. Jarod noticed that Hal didn't punish Dewey. In fact Hal seemed scared of what his wife would do if she found out and he just told Dewey to stop. When Dewey didn't, he told him to go to his room with the pots and pans, which he did, singing "Twinkle Twinkle..." all the way there. Finally things settled back down.
Jarod slept peacefully for several more hours until he was startled awake by a scream. He opened his eyes to see Malcolm and his brother Reese wrestling less than four feet away from him, ramming into things and knocking things off of tables and shelves. The two appeared to notice he was up because they stopped for a moment. "Oh, are we bothering you, Mr. Carey?" Malcolm said, slowly and deliberately. "A little bit." whispered Jarod, cringing from his pounding headache. "Sorry." said Malcolm, and then he and his brother promptly went back to wrestling. They finally left an hour later, but not before knocking an entire bowl of what appeared to be day old cheesies all over the couch. This time Jarod could not get back to sleep at all, since every time he moved he heard a soft crunching noise coming from underneath him.
Finally, Lois returned from work and made dinner, which she brought out to him on a tray. Even though she made pork chops and mashed potatoes for her family, she went to the trouble of making Jarod soup and crackers. She came over and sat with him for a few minutes while her boys wolfed down their food, and helped Jarod get up into a sitting position. It was then that he noticed his right leg was starting to swell. "Thank you for all of your help. You really don't have to do this for me." he told Lois, as he examined his leg with his hands.
"Oh, it's no problem. It's the least I could do, I mean, my son did get you fired. And I did run you down with the car, I guess... even if it wasn't my fault." She paused for a moment, looking a bit nervous about what she was going to say. "Jarod, are you..."
"Yes." said Jarod, becoming worried that he had broken his leg without realizing it.
"Are you running from the law?" she asked.
Jarod looked up from his leg for a second. "What makes you ask that?"
"Well," replied Lois, "you wouldn't let us take you to the hospital. And when Hal went to your place to pick up your stuff there were some people in your apartment looking around..."
"Did they see him... I mean, did he tell anyone I was here at all?" asked Jarod nervously.
"No, are you kidding?" replied Lois. "He turned around and left. Hal never did like confrontations..." She waited for a moment, while Jarod said nothing. "Jarod, you didn't answer my question?"
"No, I'm not running from the law." Jarod replied slowly. "That's the absolute truth. The people at my apartment were..." he struggled to find a way to explain it, and then came upon a decent answer. "They were my ex-girlfriend and some of her friends. I broke up with her, but she still won't leave me alone." He almost smiled as he thought about the irony of this lie.
"Oh." said Lois, satisfied. "Well, I guess you don't want her to know you're here then."
"No, not really." replied Jarod, watching as Lois reached under his pillow for something.
"Jarod..." she said. "I just have one more question."
"Ask away." said Jarod.
"Why are there cheesies all over my couch?"
TO BE CONTINUED...
Author's Note: The plot thickens. There will be more. It will come sooner this time. I promise. Also this story is dedicated to the wonderful people at TNT who aired the Pretender: Island of the Haunted recently. Here's to TNT! I hope we get more movies!
JAROD IN THE MIDDLE 11/?
The rest of the day was rather uneventful. At Lois' insistence, after a breakfast of mushy cereal and sugary orange punch, Jarod had lain back down on the couch and relaxed for the rest of the day, in between throwing up from the nausea he still felt. 'Too much, too soon' thought Jarod. 'I'll have to give it a few days before I'll start to feel better again.' Still, it did feel good to relax, something he didn't get much time to do in between running from the Centre and his Pretends. That was what he had become a substitute teacher to do, right? He had meant it as a bit of a break. And he had to admit that it felt really good to be sick and have someone looking out for him.
It only took a few hours for Jarod to realize that he wasn't going to be able to relax. It was hard for him to even begin to relax around the Wilkerson's. When Jarod finally fell asleep after two hours of tossing and turning, Malcolm had come into the living room, yelling and screaming at his brother, and jumped on him. He'd then picked up the TV remote control and cranked the television up to full volume and played video games with his brothers until his mother came in, caught him and dragged him by his ear to his bedroom. And that made it even harder for Jarod to sleep, as she yelled at Malcolm and berated him for close to an hour for not respecting their guest and for breaking his punishment. Even though she was in another room with the door closed, he could still hear every word of her tirade. She even tacked an extra two weeks on to his grounding. Jarod was annoyed at Malcolm, but he almost felt sorry for him at the same time. He was, after all, in the middle of their living room, and he knew that Malcolm was probably bored. Jarod felt a pang of guilt as he realized that Malcolm's punishment was his fault to begin with.
Lois left for work finally and everything was quiet for maybe an hour when Dewey came crashing into the room with what appeared to be all of Lois' pots and pans and kitchen utensils and began to bang and crash them together, and play them like drums. All this, while singing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" at the top of his lungs. Jarod's peace and quiet was once again disrupted. The thing that really annoyed Jarod, though, even in the middle of all this, was that the boy was just singing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." Not the verses, not the chorus, just "Twinkle Twinkle..." repeatedly over and over again. Jarod took his pillow and put it over his head to drown out the sound but it didn't help. This went on for half and hour until Hal came in. Jarod noticed that Hal didn't punish Dewey. In fact Hal seemed scared of what his wife would do if she found out and he just told Dewey to stop. When Dewey didn't, he told him to go to his room with the pots and pans, which he did, singing "Twinkle Twinkle..." all the way there. Finally things settled back down.
Jarod slept peacefully for several more hours until he was startled awake by a scream. He opened his eyes to see Malcolm and his brother Reese wrestling less than four feet away from him, ramming into things and knocking things off of tables and shelves. The two appeared to notice he was up because they stopped for a moment. "Oh, are we bothering you, Mr. Carey?" Malcolm said, slowly and deliberately. "A little bit." whispered Jarod, cringing from his pounding headache. "Sorry." said Malcolm, and then he and his brother promptly went back to wrestling. They finally left an hour later, but not before knocking an entire bowl of what appeared to be day old cheesies all over the couch. This time Jarod could not get back to sleep at all, since every time he moved he heard a soft crunching noise coming from underneath him.
Finally, Lois returned from work and made dinner, which she brought out to him on a tray. Even though she made pork chops and mashed potatoes for her family, she went to the trouble of making Jarod soup and crackers. She came over and sat with him for a few minutes while her boys wolfed down their food, and helped Jarod get up into a sitting position. It was then that he noticed his right leg was starting to swell. "Thank you for all of your help. You really don't have to do this for me." he told Lois, as he examined his leg with his hands.
"Oh, it's no problem. It's the least I could do, I mean, my son did get you fired. And I did run you down with the car, I guess... even if it wasn't my fault." She paused for a moment, looking a bit nervous about what she was going to say. "Jarod, are you..."
"Yes." said Jarod, becoming worried that he had broken his leg without realizing it.
"Are you running from the law?" she asked.
Jarod looked up from his leg for a second. "What makes you ask that?"
"Well," replied Lois, "you wouldn't let us take you to the hospital. And when Hal went to your place to pick up your stuff there were some people in your apartment looking around..."
"Did they see him... I mean, did he tell anyone I was here at all?" asked Jarod nervously.
"No, are you kidding?" replied Lois. "He turned around and left. Hal never did like confrontations..." She waited for a moment, while Jarod said nothing. "Jarod, you didn't answer my question?"
"No, I'm not running from the law." Jarod replied slowly. "That's the absolute truth. The people at my apartment were..." he struggled to find a way to explain it, and then came upon a decent answer. "They were my ex-girlfriend and some of her friends. I broke up with her, but she still won't leave me alone." He almost smiled as he thought about the irony of this lie.
"Oh." said Lois, satisfied. "Well, I guess you don't want her to know you're here then."
"No, not really." replied Jarod, watching as Lois reached under his pillow for something.
"Jarod..." she said. "I just have one more question."
"Ask away." said Jarod.
"Why are there cheesies all over my couch?"
TO BE CONTINUED...