Author's Note: Sorry about the long wait people, but I've got this chapter written and the next one too so chapter 4 shouldn't be too long in coming, it just depends on how long it takes me to type it up :) Oh, and I don't own "Jump in the Line" by Harry Belafonte. But it is a fun song.
Chapter 3: The Wrath of Stan
Amy Witherspoon leaned in closer to her computer screen, where she was typing up her overdo article for the school paper. She knew Chloe was impatient for it but tomorrow was the soonest she was going to get it. She hummed along with the radio:
My girl's name is Senora
I tell you friends, I adore her
And when she dances, oh brother!
She's a hurricane in all kinds of weather
She jumped Slightly in her chair, startled by a noise behind her and glanced around. Her face relaxed into a kind of a smile when she saw it was only Stan Gibson standing in the doorway. "Dang it, Stan, you scared me." He didn't reply and Amy paused a bit before turning around to face her computer again. "I guess I'll just get back to work on my article then, if you don't want anything..." she trailed off or would have had Stan not suddenly broken in.
"'If I don't want anything'," he repeated mockingly. "Since when has this been about what I want?" Amy struggled to come up with a response but Stan again interrupted her. "No, don't respond. That was rhetorical, meaning don't answer because no answer exists." Amy could have sworn that at that moment the CD she had on, playing "Jump in the Line", slowed down a bit and she felt a weariness cover her.
(Jump in de line, rock your body in time) OK, I believe you!
(Jump in de line, rock your body in time) OK, I believe you!
(Jump in de line, rock your body in time) OK, I believe you!
(Jump in de line, rock your body in time) Whoa!
"I don't want to work for the paper," Stan continued bitterly. "I never asked for the school store. And now look at me: Chloe Sullivan is using me to get people," he said 'people' with a tone of contempt, "like you to turn their articles in on time. As though I didn't have anything better to do."
Amy hesitated and finally turned around in her chair and spoke when it became clear Stan wasn't going to say anything further. "You can go if you want, Stan. I'll have the article in by tomorrow, I promise. You don'thave to wait around here for it, you know." Stan came closer and slumped lifelessly against the wall. "Oh, yes. Why don't I just go? No one wants Stan around-"
"No, that's not it, I just thought if you didn't want to be here-"
"As though what I wanted had anything to do with it. You see my left leg here?" he asked.
"Umm...yes." Amy wasn't entirely sure what he wanted from her.
"Well, it hurts. It's almost like someone is sawing through the skin layer by layer with a file and that, any day now, they're going to get down to the muscle and then the bone and start sawing through that, too, and then it hurts almost like they have already." Amy winced as she felt the phantom pain throb in her own leg. "And you know what it feels like the rest of the time?" She shook her head and Stan have her a biting smirk. "It's numb. Completely numb."
"Maybe you should go to the doctor about that," she suggested half heartedly but that was the wrong thing to say.
"Don't you think I have?" His voice rose and broke on the last syllable. "They don't do anything. They just say it's fine but it's not." He sounded like he was going to cry.
"Stan, it's not that bad I'm sure," she said, soothingly, though a part of her was beginning to wonder why she bothered.
"No, it's worse." He paused, letting the music play alone for a moment.
You can talk about Cha Cha
Tango, Waltz, or de Rumba
Senora's dance has more title
You jump in the saddle
Hold on to de bridle!
He leaned over towards her, rather closer than she'd liked, and said, "I'm not getting you down at all am I?" His voice was quiet and smooth but somehow scratchy.
She shook her head, tears smarting in her eyes. "No, I'm fine," she managed right before thy started rolling. "It's just---I have so much to do! I am so stressed right now I don't know how I'm going to get everything done. I'm only writing this article as a personal favor for Chloe but now-" Tears were cascading down her cheeks by now, making it nearly impossible for her to talk.
"You thought you would help her out, didn't you?" Stan asked in the same soft voice. "But you didn't, did you?" She shook her head. "That's how it usualy works. Helping others only increases that feeling of uselessness and futility."
"But-but, you're helping Chloe with the paper!" she sputtered.
He smiled. "Yes. Of course. Heelping." Stan drew the word out. "I'm not helping. I know I'm not. The only person who intended for me to help was Chloe. I'm sure she's learning from that mistake."
(Jump in de line, rock your body in time) OK, I believe you!
(Jump in de line, rock your body in time) Rock your body, child!
(Jump in de line, rock your body in time) Somebody, help me!
(Jump in de line, rock your body in time) Whoa!
Stan shrugged his shoulders in such a way to imply that the weight of the world lay upon his shoulders and there was nothing he, nor anyone else, could do about it. "I suppose I'll go now to contemplate the universe and how very little importance I have in comparison to its size." He turned and lumped out the door, leaving Amy sitting there sideways in her chair, her face covered in tears. Suddenly, a wail of unremitting despair burst out of her and she banged her head down onto the keyboard as hard as she could, time after time: WHUMP! WHUMP! WHUMP! Then finally, she lay there still and the only sound left in the room was Harry Belafonte's voice singing.
Shake, shake, shake, Senora, shake your body line
Shake, shake, shake, Senora, shake it all the time (Whoa)
Work, work, work, Senora, work your body line (Yep)
Work, work, work, Senora, work it all the time
Chapter 3: The Wrath of Stan
Amy Witherspoon leaned in closer to her computer screen, where she was typing up her overdo article for the school paper. She knew Chloe was impatient for it but tomorrow was the soonest she was going to get it. She hummed along with the radio:
My girl's name is Senora
I tell you friends, I adore her
And when she dances, oh brother!
She's a hurricane in all kinds of weather
She jumped Slightly in her chair, startled by a noise behind her and glanced around. Her face relaxed into a kind of a smile when she saw it was only Stan Gibson standing in the doorway. "Dang it, Stan, you scared me." He didn't reply and Amy paused a bit before turning around to face her computer again. "I guess I'll just get back to work on my article then, if you don't want anything..." she trailed off or would have had Stan not suddenly broken in.
"'If I don't want anything'," he repeated mockingly. "Since when has this been about what I want?" Amy struggled to come up with a response but Stan again interrupted her. "No, don't respond. That was rhetorical, meaning don't answer because no answer exists." Amy could have sworn that at that moment the CD she had on, playing "Jump in the Line", slowed down a bit and she felt a weariness cover her.
(Jump in de line, rock your body in time) OK, I believe you!
(Jump in de line, rock your body in time) OK, I believe you!
(Jump in de line, rock your body in time) OK, I believe you!
(Jump in de line, rock your body in time) Whoa!
"I don't want to work for the paper," Stan continued bitterly. "I never asked for the school store. And now look at me: Chloe Sullivan is using me to get people," he said 'people' with a tone of contempt, "like you to turn their articles in on time. As though I didn't have anything better to do."
Amy hesitated and finally turned around in her chair and spoke when it became clear Stan wasn't going to say anything further. "You can go if you want, Stan. I'll have the article in by tomorrow, I promise. You don'thave to wait around here for it, you know." Stan came closer and slumped lifelessly against the wall. "Oh, yes. Why don't I just go? No one wants Stan around-"
"No, that's not it, I just thought if you didn't want to be here-"
"As though what I wanted had anything to do with it. You see my left leg here?" he asked.
"Umm...yes." Amy wasn't entirely sure what he wanted from her.
"Well, it hurts. It's almost like someone is sawing through the skin layer by layer with a file and that, any day now, they're going to get down to the muscle and then the bone and start sawing through that, too, and then it hurts almost like they have already." Amy winced as she felt the phantom pain throb in her own leg. "And you know what it feels like the rest of the time?" She shook her head and Stan have her a biting smirk. "It's numb. Completely numb."
"Maybe you should go to the doctor about that," she suggested half heartedly but that was the wrong thing to say.
"Don't you think I have?" His voice rose and broke on the last syllable. "They don't do anything. They just say it's fine but it's not." He sounded like he was going to cry.
"Stan, it's not that bad I'm sure," she said, soothingly, though a part of her was beginning to wonder why she bothered.
"No, it's worse." He paused, letting the music play alone for a moment.
You can talk about Cha Cha
Tango, Waltz, or de Rumba
Senora's dance has more title
You jump in the saddle
Hold on to de bridle!
He leaned over towards her, rather closer than she'd liked, and said, "I'm not getting you down at all am I?" His voice was quiet and smooth but somehow scratchy.
She shook her head, tears smarting in her eyes. "No, I'm fine," she managed right before thy started rolling. "It's just---I have so much to do! I am so stressed right now I don't know how I'm going to get everything done. I'm only writing this article as a personal favor for Chloe but now-" Tears were cascading down her cheeks by now, making it nearly impossible for her to talk.
"You thought you would help her out, didn't you?" Stan asked in the same soft voice. "But you didn't, did you?" She shook her head. "That's how it usualy works. Helping others only increases that feeling of uselessness and futility."
"But-but, you're helping Chloe with the paper!" she sputtered.
He smiled. "Yes. Of course. Heelping." Stan drew the word out. "I'm not helping. I know I'm not. The only person who intended for me to help was Chloe. I'm sure she's learning from that mistake."
(Jump in de line, rock your body in time) OK, I believe you!
(Jump in de line, rock your body in time) Rock your body, child!
(Jump in de line, rock your body in time) Somebody, help me!
(Jump in de line, rock your body in time) Whoa!
Stan shrugged his shoulders in such a way to imply that the weight of the world lay upon his shoulders and there was nothing he, nor anyone else, could do about it. "I suppose I'll go now to contemplate the universe and how very little importance I have in comparison to its size." He turned and lumped out the door, leaving Amy sitting there sideways in her chair, her face covered in tears. Suddenly, a wail of unremitting despair burst out of her and she banged her head down onto the keyboard as hard as she could, time after time: WHUMP! WHUMP! WHUMP! Then finally, she lay there still and the only sound left in the room was Harry Belafonte's voice singing.
Shake, shake, shake, Senora, shake your body line
Shake, shake, shake, Senora, shake it all the time (Whoa)
Work, work, work, Senora, work your body line (Yep)
Work, work, work, Senora, work it all the time
