Those Returning
by Peaches the First (note the name change)
5. Ghosts
TJ's black Lexus cruised lazily down the streets of Concord as he took the "nostalgia" tour of his boyhood. He'd seen Kelso's, and saw a woman walking out who looked remarkably familiar, tall with copper hair. He'd visited the old lake where he'd spent many summers just lying around with the old crew. He'd even gone so far as to check out The Clearing at Wolf Hill. He grinned to himself as he pulled into the parking lot of the most memorable building. It still stood out in his memory when he thought back to his puerility.
Good Old Third Street Elementary.
The swings creaked anciently, and TJ swore he saw a bushel of curly red hair. A lonely hole lay under the shade of Butch's old Story Tree. He saw a new flag over the Ashley's former clubhouse, but all he could see was the pink one he had mailed back to them piece by piece!
Correction, he and the old gang.
For the first time in a long time, he smelled to freshly cut grass that could only be from Third Street. He smelled the industrial slop from the cafeteria, heard the echos of long age games of Battle Tag and Kickball.
He hesitated for a moment, then looked around to make sure no one was watching. Then, carefully, he climbed the bars to the top of New Rusty. Did they still call it that? Or was it old again?
He scanned the playground and breathed in deeply. It was a lot smaller than he remembered, but still held the same air of... he couldn't find word to describe it. Mischief? No. Hooliganism? No, but he could already hear Muriel Finster scolding him for climbing at such a mature age.
He frowned sadly. Muriel must be long gone by now. What state was the playground in now? Did the Kindergartners still run ramped? Did the First graders still act like brats? Did the Fifth graders and Fourth graders still have their Kickball rivalry?
He didn't even hear the person next to him until they poked him out of his thoughts.
"Hey, Mister, are you deaf? I asked what you're doing here!"
TJ looked at the child and smiled softly. She couldn't have been older than ten. Her black hair was chopped to her shoulders, and her black jean jacket was worn and faded. Her bright green eyes were shifty and questioning.
"I was just looking for the ghosts," she muttered. The girl's eyes grew wide.
"Ghosts? Really?" she said, her eyes dancing with delight. "Cool! Whose ghosts are they?"
"Shh, just listen," TJ told her. She closed her eyes and listened hard. "Do you hear that?" he asked. She nodded.
"Wow, they're everywhere!" she murmured. "That is so cool! You can hear their voices."
"Yeah," TJ chuckled. "Well, I'd better be going. See ya, kid."
"Bye Mister... uh, hey what's your name?"
"Call me TJ. TJ Detwhieler," he told her. She threw her hands over her mouth with shock.
"You're the Prankster Prince! You're a legend!"
"I wouldn't go that far," he said as he climbed down.
"But you are! You and Vince, and Mikey, and Gus, and Gretchen, and Spinelli! You're famous! You're my hero!"
"Thanks, but I don't deserve it," TJ laughed. "You need a new idol, kid." He walked to his car slowly. "Heros don't make mistakes like mine."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Ms Spinelli, You must understand that requests like this are very complicated."
"I know, but I just have to know that he's alright."
"Ms Spinelli, once you signed those papers, all of your rights were cut off, you understand that? And we would need the other signer here to undo what has been done. Even then, there's months worth of paper work..."
"Maybe this was a bad idea. I'm sorry to waste your time."
Spinelli stood up and walked out of the office. Why had she made such a stupid request? How could she have thought they would make a special exception for her? She may have bee a star, but this was still Concord. She was still 'Little Ashley Spinelli from Third Street'.
Even adoption agencies had to follow the rules.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
AN: Sorry so short! Now, review! I need more reviews if I'm to continue. After all, I only write for my public.
~Peaches(the First)
by Peaches the First (note the name change)
5. Ghosts
TJ's black Lexus cruised lazily down the streets of Concord as he took the "nostalgia" tour of his boyhood. He'd seen Kelso's, and saw a woman walking out who looked remarkably familiar, tall with copper hair. He'd visited the old lake where he'd spent many summers just lying around with the old crew. He'd even gone so far as to check out The Clearing at Wolf Hill. He grinned to himself as he pulled into the parking lot of the most memorable building. It still stood out in his memory when he thought back to his puerility.
Good Old Third Street Elementary.
The swings creaked anciently, and TJ swore he saw a bushel of curly red hair. A lonely hole lay under the shade of Butch's old Story Tree. He saw a new flag over the Ashley's former clubhouse, but all he could see was the pink one he had mailed back to them piece by piece!
Correction, he and the old gang.
For the first time in a long time, he smelled to freshly cut grass that could only be from Third Street. He smelled the industrial slop from the cafeteria, heard the echos of long age games of Battle Tag and Kickball.
He hesitated for a moment, then looked around to make sure no one was watching. Then, carefully, he climbed the bars to the top of New Rusty. Did they still call it that? Or was it old again?
He scanned the playground and breathed in deeply. It was a lot smaller than he remembered, but still held the same air of... he couldn't find word to describe it. Mischief? No. Hooliganism? No, but he could already hear Muriel Finster scolding him for climbing at such a mature age.
He frowned sadly. Muriel must be long gone by now. What state was the playground in now? Did the Kindergartners still run ramped? Did the First graders still act like brats? Did the Fifth graders and Fourth graders still have their Kickball rivalry?
He didn't even hear the person next to him until they poked him out of his thoughts.
"Hey, Mister, are you deaf? I asked what you're doing here!"
TJ looked at the child and smiled softly. She couldn't have been older than ten. Her black hair was chopped to her shoulders, and her black jean jacket was worn and faded. Her bright green eyes were shifty and questioning.
"I was just looking for the ghosts," she muttered. The girl's eyes grew wide.
"Ghosts? Really?" she said, her eyes dancing with delight. "Cool! Whose ghosts are they?"
"Shh, just listen," TJ told her. She closed her eyes and listened hard. "Do you hear that?" he asked. She nodded.
"Wow, they're everywhere!" she murmured. "That is so cool! You can hear their voices."
"Yeah," TJ chuckled. "Well, I'd better be going. See ya, kid."
"Bye Mister... uh, hey what's your name?"
"Call me TJ. TJ Detwhieler," he told her. She threw her hands over her mouth with shock.
"You're the Prankster Prince! You're a legend!"
"I wouldn't go that far," he said as he climbed down.
"But you are! You and Vince, and Mikey, and Gus, and Gretchen, and Spinelli! You're famous! You're my hero!"
"Thanks, but I don't deserve it," TJ laughed. "You need a new idol, kid." He walked to his car slowly. "Heros don't make mistakes like mine."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Ms Spinelli, You must understand that requests like this are very complicated."
"I know, but I just have to know that he's alright."
"Ms Spinelli, once you signed those papers, all of your rights were cut off, you understand that? And we would need the other signer here to undo what has been done. Even then, there's months worth of paper work..."
"Maybe this was a bad idea. I'm sorry to waste your time."
Spinelli stood up and walked out of the office. Why had she made such a stupid request? How could she have thought they would make a special exception for her? She may have bee a star, but this was still Concord. She was still 'Little Ashley Spinelli from Third Street'.
Even adoption agencies had to follow the rules.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
AN: Sorry so short! Now, review! I need more reviews if I'm to continue. After all, I only write for my public.
~Peaches(the First)