Ch 2 A Silver Spoon In His Mouth?
"Mother, pass me that napkin!!"
"James, what do we say?"
"Please… but hurry! I spilt the milk on the table!!"
"Jeeves, go take this napkin and clean up James' mess," said the woman, her voice short and pompous.
"But I can do it my—," started James, but his mother cut him off.
"No James, that is why we have servants."
The butler bowed deeply, tenderly picked up the napkin, and briskly walked down the long dinning room to the opposite end of the table, where James was sitting. The long table they had been eating on was of a beautiful and expensive wood, and it reflected the light filtering through the long curtains very pleasantly.
James frowned, his blue-violet hair looking perfectly combed, his clothes on nice and straight. The quiet and perfect atmosphere was enough to suffocate anyone.
Jeeves began wiping up the spilled milk, and James blinked. Where's the excitement in spilling milk when someone's already cleaning it up before it's spilt? He finished his large and expensive-looking breakfast, and stood up from the table.
"Can I go play with Growlie?" he asked, looking ever hopeful.
His mother raised an eyebrow. "May I?" she said cautiously.
James sighed. "May I go play with Growlie?" he said through his teeth.
"No. I have some things to tell you. Come on now let's go outside and wait for your father to bring her," she said, turning her nose up at the plates on the table.
"Oh and Jeeves, clean up this filthy table. I would not want our guests to see this pigsty!"
James regarded the 'mess'. It didn't look that messy to him. Then it hit him. "Her?" he said as he took his mother's hand, "Who's 'her'?"
"James! We do not use those horrid contractions in this house. You should say 'Who is she'? Only proper English will do!" she corrected, leaving James too mad at her to even remember his question.
They walked along what, to most people, would seem like a park; but it was really just their driveway. A long limousine was parking as they approached the gate, and out popped the driver. Another butler. He went to the back of the car, and opened the door gingerly. There a dark-blue haired man, James' father, rose out of the car. Next a well-dressed couple that looked about James' parents' age, and then a little girl. She looked about six or seven, around James' age, and had bright red hair. Her light blue eyes had all the color of the ocean, but none of its warmth.
James looked at her curiously, wondering if maybe he'd actually have another child to play with for a change; a playmate that would understand the annoying problems that he has with his parents. Someone with whom he could confide in.
"Ah! Mr. And Mrs. Harrington! How is your lovely daughter today? Good I hope! Here is our wonderful son, James; is he just not the finest little boy you have ever seen? Say 'hello' James!" said his mother.
James blinked. He let go of his mother's hand, and walked up to the little girl so that they were face to face. "Uh… hello!" he said timidly.
The little girl smiled, and grabbed him by the arm. "Hello! My name is Jessebelle! Come along now!" she said loudly, "Perhaps we can play a game of chess? Or, I know! How about we play a game of 'Pick On the Butler'!"
James' eyes widened. "Uh… okay…" he said, not getting a good feeling about this, and wondering what in the world 'Pick On the Butler' was.
All through the day Jessebelle dragged James from room to room in the mansion, telling him to 'do this' and 'do that' and she would nag him about the same exact things his mother would.
James sighed, and looked out the bay window of his room. She was just like his parents. How could he ever enjoy playing with her? He peered over to see what she was doing now.
Jessebelle was 'playing' with Jeeves by making him clean up James' room several times in a row.
James looked back out the window, and saw Growlie in his overly large doghouse, and his eyes brightened. Maybe Jessebelle would want to meet Growlie!
"Um, Jessebelle? Would you like to meet Growlie? He is the best pok--" he asked enthusiastically.
Jessebelle turned around. "What? No, I don't like going outside. All those pokemon and dirt! I don't like pokemon anyway, except for my Oddish. Now that's a pokemon! Not that stinky old dog down there in that ragged old house!" she said, going back to messing up the room so that Jeeves could clean it up.
James sank in his chair. It had been the only idea he had wanted to do… and she wouldn't even give it a chance… He stood up, looking angry.
"But Growlie is my friend! Why can't we just go and say hello to him?!"
Jessebelle turned around, frowning. "James! You must not use contractions silly! Only proper English!"
James blinked. This was the last straw. He breathed in deeply, "GET OUT OF MY ROOM!!"
Jessebelle looked up, eyes wide and very surprised. "Wh… what? What do you mean? And don't yell at me!" she said, looking a little intimidated.
But James wouldn't back down that easy. He had put up with the hours of mindless play and stupid corrections, but he could never put up with the insult of his best and only friend!
"NO! I WILL YELL AT YOU! AND YOU SHOULD NOT SAY 'DON'T', YOU SHOULD SAY 'DO NOT'! NOW GET OUT, OR I'LL HAVE JEEVES THROW YOU OUT!" James shouted, leaving Jessebelle speechless.
Her parents had never yelled at her, and she had never had any playmates, so this was the first time anyone had ever yelled at her. She began to cry.
"Wahhh!" she wailed, and ran out of the room. James slammed his room's large wooden door after her, and lay down on his bed.
He didn't mean to make her cry… but he couldn't just stand around and let her insult Growlie. He was his only friend, the only one who hated his parents as much as James did. If James ever lost Growlie, he wouldn't know what to do…
James found himself falling asleep… and then dreaming… He was on a bike; a bike with training wheels… and he was laughing! He was in a bike race… There was a girl next to him… Jessebelle? No, she was different… he didn't know her, but they were head to head in the race… and then the finish line was approaching… who would win?! He couldn't make the bike go any faster…….
"JAMES!!"
"Ahhh!!!" yelled James, being startled awake. He sat up quickly, breathing hard. That dream he had just had seemed so real… He looked up and noticed his mother looming above him.
"James?!" she yelled, looking angry.
James looked worried.
"Yes Mother?" he said, his voice quivering.
"Did you make Jessebelle cry?!" she said, eyeing him as he answered.
"Y… yes…" he admitted, breaking eye contact with his mother.
James' father walked in the room. "Well for what reason son?" his father asked.
"Because I hate her! She plays stupid games, and always corrects me instead of being my friend, and… and… and she doesn't like Growlie!" James said, a pleading look in his eyes. He knew his parents would never accept that he had the right to be angry with her.
His father closed his eyes. "Well James, then I suppose we have no choice…"
"Huh?" said James, his eyes widening, "What are you going to do?"
His father looked at his mother, "They will have to be betrothed."
His mother smiled. "Yes, I am sure that if she drives him this crazy now, she will have no problem trying to straighten James out in the future. She's perfect!"
"What?!" said James, confused as to what was going on. Why did his parents always seem so insane to him?
"Our son will be a fine gentleman; he just needs some time to be molded into what we want," said his father; a twinkle in his eye.
"Yes dear, you are right, they would be the perfect couple," James' mother said.
They both turned to James. "Well son, what do you think?" said James' father.
James blinked. "What's 'betrothed' mean?" he asked worriedly, almost sensing what the answer was.
"You mean 'what is' dear. And it means married," said his mother, looking pleased.
"WHAT?! Married to her?!" James yelled. James' parents just turned and smiled at each other.
After Jessebelle and her parents had gone, James sat up in his room again, thinking about his arranged marriage. It wasn't fair! What had he done to deserve this treatment? A tear ran down James' cheek.
All he wanted was someone to like him for who he was… Someone who wouldn't correct him every two seconds… But how would he ever find anyone like that here? He was always confined to this mansion, and when he did see a regular kid to play with, his parents would always steer him away saying that those children aren't clean enough for him. James sighed. What could he possibly do?
He peered down outside, where it had begun to rain.
Growlie had escaped from his dog house again… Jeeves would probably notice him in a few minutes, and then Growlie would be right back in.
Escaped…?
James thought for a moment. If he could escape like Growlie, then maybe he could finally get to see the real world, and meet people like himself, people who would accept him for just being him!
James' expression suddenly became determined; he got up quickly, grabbed his small travel case, a few items, and scurried out the room.
A/N: Okay, I'm gonna have to take a short break from this story to finish off my other one, so it'll be a little while before the next chapter is up. It will be about Jessie, and her dream of becoming a Pokemon Nurse. Anyway, I liked this chapter better than the first actually. I think I needed to get the hang of writing again. ^^; So, um, read and review!!