Author's Note: Thank you so much for the reviews! I'm really glad you're
all enjoying the story. Okay, this chapter is from Gordo's POV; it picks
up right after he had ordered his pancakes from room service. Please read
and review!
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"Your order of pancakes with huckleberry syrup should be there in about 30 to 45 minutes. Thank you, Mr. Gordon."
"Thanks." David hung up the phone and jumped back onto his bed. Um, okay, so I ordered those pancakes based on what the man in the park told me. Now what? Do I just wait to see what happens? How in the world are pancakes supposed to help me meet my destiny? wondered David.
David shuffled restlessly on his bed. He picked up the television remote and started flipping channels. There was nothing on that captured his imagination, so David contemplated doing some more work before his food arrived. As he was about get off the bed and return to his desk, David was suddenly hit with an intense wave of sleepiness as jet lag had finally caught up with him. Oh-kay, maybe I won't do some more work right now. . . I'll just rest my eyes for a bit while I wait for my food to come. With that last thought, David quickly fell into a cozy slumber . . . and he began to dream.
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In his dream, David found himself on the top of Mount Kileaua, a dormant volcano on the island of Maui. The mountain top was covered with deep layers of fresh snow, yet David was dressed only in a t-shirt, gym shorts, and sandals, skating on the snow covered mountain top. David wandered over to the edges of the mountain, peered out to see in the far distance the sparkling blue ocean gently caressing the golden beach shoreline. What a breathtaking sight, whistled David.
David's communion with nature abruptly came to an end when a loud, booming voice from behind yelled, "David Gordon, do you think you're ready?"
David flipped around to see a gigantic sea turtle talking to him. The turtle was about the size of an elephant, and it was wearing bifocals and was vigorously puffing on a pipe.
David replied, "What are you talking about? Ready for what?" David looked straight into the turtle's eyes, then added, "Okay, this is the umpteenth dream I've had with weird creatures like you in it. Last night, I dreamt about a talking cricket. The other night it was a talking donut. Why can't I have normal dreams with beautiful women like Natalie Portman in them, or with Grace Kelly, or . . .with . . ."
"Lizzie McGuire, I know. Well, you ain't chop liver either, Gordo. Don't you think I'd rather be in the dreams of people like Steven Spielberg, Martin Scorcese, or George Lucas?"
"Touche. Good point."
"Thanks. And please, call me Sigmund. Anyway, let's get back to my question. Gordo, do you think you're ready? And don't try to act as if you don't know what I'm talking about."
"Uh- well, I guess so. I think. Yes. Or, well . . .maybe," stammered David.
Sigmund let out a disappointed sigh, then said, "I thought so, I thought so. You're not ready, you've never been ready. And that's why you are going to lose her, my dear boy."
A somber David replied, "I . . . I know. I know I don't belong with Lizzie. Whenever I'm with her, all I can think about is how beautiful she is, about what a beautiful, gentle soul she has, and then I look at myself, and think, she doesn't belong with someone like me."
"You mean a height-challenged, overly-cerebral, ordinary looking guy like yourself?"
"Yeah." David stared down and watched his left foot busily shuffle the snow underneath his feet.
"You're just not good enough for her, right, Gordo? That's what you believe?" David nodded slowly in painful recognition of the truth.
"Well, Gordo, if that's what you believe, if you believe that you just don't have what it takes to be with Lizzie, then you *truly* are not good enough for her," said Sigmund, with a trace of frustration in his voice. Then, he was gone. . .
David found himself disappearing from the volcanic mountaintop as well, and the next thing he knew, he was standing in the middle of Central Park in New York City, on a crisp Autumn day. He was dressed in his bar mitzvah clothes, carrying the Torah in one hand, and a single long stemmed red rose with his other hand.
He looked up to see the sky raining autumnal leaves. .. the wind was swirling around, picking up a sea of crimson, ruby-red, rusty orange, and deep brown leaves and flinging them across the sky. David could only stare in awe. This was the most vivid dream he ever had. . .he could smell the fragrant colors emanating from the leaves, he could feel the cozy chill of the November air on his face and skin, he could hear every single leaf rustling, crinkling and laughing in joyous celebration.
David then saw a brilliant flash of blue light, and the next thing he knew, Lizzie was there, standing in front of him, in a flowing white dress, with her hair up, looking intently back at David, with a soft, beckoning smile on her face. She never looked more radiant and beautiful, gasped David. He found himself slowly approaching her, until he was within a breath of touching her. He looked at the rose in his right hand, lifted it up and handed it to Lizzie. Lizzie took it, gently breathed in its rosy fragrance, and said to David in a soft, angelic voice, "I love it, Gordo. Thank you."
"You're welcome, Lizzie," answered David, blushing madly.
"And Gordo?"
"Yes, Lizzie?"
"Always remember this. . .you are good enough, you've always been good enough, and you will always be good enough, Gordo, because you are, well, *you,*" whispered Lizzie.
David smiled and closed his eyes, taking in all of Lizzie's words. They were magic to his ears. David leaned closer into Lizzie, gently placed his hands on her hips, and leaned into her face to kiss her. "Lizzie, I just want to say something I've been meaning to say for as long as I can remember. . . Lizzie, I lo-"
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RIIIINNNNNGGGGG!!!! RIINNNGGGGG!!!!
David leaped up from his slumber, startled awake by the telephone. Dazed and confused, David groggily searched for the phone and answered it. "He- hello?"
"Mr. Gordon, this is room service. I just wanted to inform you that we are running a bit behind as we have just gotten in a tour group from Japan who have not eaten all day, and they have us extremely busy at this moment. Your order may take an additional half-hour. I apologize for the inconvenience, and your order will be on the house tonight."
"Okay, thanks." David hung up the phone and looked at the clock. It was 1:30 a.m. He had been sleeping, and dreaming, for about a half-hour. The dream was still weighing on his heart and mind, and he muttered some epithets at room service for calling him and waking him up. It was the most wonderful dream he had ever had, and he hadn't want it to end. But, now, he was wide-awake, and wondering what he should do with himself.
He grabbed a complimentary magazine from the desk and began to flip through it. On the cover was the founder of YooHoo.Com, and inside was an article on the founder talking about the popularity of YooHoo chatrooms. He took the magazine back to his bed, then found the t.v. remote and began channel surfing.
As he flipped through several channels, he began to notice that on each channel, there was something about chatrooms. On Oprah, the topic of the show was on relationships developed in online chatrooms. On ESPN, a football player was being interviewed and was telling the host that his favorite hobby was chatting in chatrooms with fans. On HBO, they were showing "You've Got Mail," a romantic comedy in which Tom Hanks' character meets Meg Ryan's character online. Finally, on ABC, he saw a commercial encouraging people to chat in Yoohoo chatrooms. The owner of Yoohoo.com, Larry Lee, was in the commercial, and in the last scene, he stared directly to the audience, and said with a wink and a smile, "Don't *you* want to be chatting in a yoohoo chatroom right now, Gordo?"
Wha? Did the guy on t.v. just mentioned my name???? Uh, no, Gordo, he didn't, you're just extremely tired and starting to imagine things. But. . . well, while I'm waiting for my food, why not log on? David still wanted to do further research on chatroom culture for his film.
David wandered to his desk and re-started his laptop. As he was waiting for his computer to connect to the internet, he dug out from his pants pocket a little plastic figurine and placed it next to his laptop. It was a figurine that Lizzie had given to him when they were in the fourth grade, which he has carried around with him ever since. He always had it in his coat or pants pocket; he considered it his good luck charm, and something to remind him of Lizzie whenever they were apart.
David was finally online, and once there, he immediately logged onto yoohoo.com. He had gotten the hint; the universe was clearly telling him to "yoohoo!" as the commercials would say. After some thought, he decided to enter the chatroom that he, Lizzie, and Miranda and other Hilridge High students frequented after they had graduated from high school. He hadn't used this chatroom in six months, ever since he and Lizzie had the fight. But, even though he knew Lizzie hadn't used the chatroom in a while either, he was sorely missing Lizzie, especially after having had his dream, and he logged into the chatroom with a faint hope that Lizzie just might be there.
He logged in his username and entered the chatroom. He quickly glanced over the chatroom username list, and did not see any of Lizzie's usernames or any other familiar username. David was disappointed, but he knew that there was very little chance of running into Lizzie. So, he tried to get Lizzie off his mind, quickly typed in hello and began to ask the other chatters questions about their use of chatrooms.
David typically used his username DavidGordo when he chatted, but, because he was doing research, he wanted to remain anonymous, so he logged in with a username that he had just created. The username . . .Adam Gerbalm.
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"Your order of pancakes with huckleberry syrup should be there in about 30 to 45 minutes. Thank you, Mr. Gordon."
"Thanks." David hung up the phone and jumped back onto his bed. Um, okay, so I ordered those pancakes based on what the man in the park told me. Now what? Do I just wait to see what happens? How in the world are pancakes supposed to help me meet my destiny? wondered David.
David shuffled restlessly on his bed. He picked up the television remote and started flipping channels. There was nothing on that captured his imagination, so David contemplated doing some more work before his food arrived. As he was about get off the bed and return to his desk, David was suddenly hit with an intense wave of sleepiness as jet lag had finally caught up with him. Oh-kay, maybe I won't do some more work right now. . . I'll just rest my eyes for a bit while I wait for my food to come. With that last thought, David quickly fell into a cozy slumber . . . and he began to dream.
*********************************************************************
In his dream, David found himself on the top of Mount Kileaua, a dormant volcano on the island of Maui. The mountain top was covered with deep layers of fresh snow, yet David was dressed only in a t-shirt, gym shorts, and sandals, skating on the snow covered mountain top. David wandered over to the edges of the mountain, peered out to see in the far distance the sparkling blue ocean gently caressing the golden beach shoreline. What a breathtaking sight, whistled David.
David's communion with nature abruptly came to an end when a loud, booming voice from behind yelled, "David Gordon, do you think you're ready?"
David flipped around to see a gigantic sea turtle talking to him. The turtle was about the size of an elephant, and it was wearing bifocals and was vigorously puffing on a pipe.
David replied, "What are you talking about? Ready for what?" David looked straight into the turtle's eyes, then added, "Okay, this is the umpteenth dream I've had with weird creatures like you in it. Last night, I dreamt about a talking cricket. The other night it was a talking donut. Why can't I have normal dreams with beautiful women like Natalie Portman in them, or with Grace Kelly, or . . .with . . ."
"Lizzie McGuire, I know. Well, you ain't chop liver either, Gordo. Don't you think I'd rather be in the dreams of people like Steven Spielberg, Martin Scorcese, or George Lucas?"
"Touche. Good point."
"Thanks. And please, call me Sigmund. Anyway, let's get back to my question. Gordo, do you think you're ready? And don't try to act as if you don't know what I'm talking about."
"Uh- well, I guess so. I think. Yes. Or, well . . .maybe," stammered David.
Sigmund let out a disappointed sigh, then said, "I thought so, I thought so. You're not ready, you've never been ready. And that's why you are going to lose her, my dear boy."
A somber David replied, "I . . . I know. I know I don't belong with Lizzie. Whenever I'm with her, all I can think about is how beautiful she is, about what a beautiful, gentle soul she has, and then I look at myself, and think, she doesn't belong with someone like me."
"You mean a height-challenged, overly-cerebral, ordinary looking guy like yourself?"
"Yeah." David stared down and watched his left foot busily shuffle the snow underneath his feet.
"You're just not good enough for her, right, Gordo? That's what you believe?" David nodded slowly in painful recognition of the truth.
"Well, Gordo, if that's what you believe, if you believe that you just don't have what it takes to be with Lizzie, then you *truly* are not good enough for her," said Sigmund, with a trace of frustration in his voice. Then, he was gone. . .
David found himself disappearing from the volcanic mountaintop as well, and the next thing he knew, he was standing in the middle of Central Park in New York City, on a crisp Autumn day. He was dressed in his bar mitzvah clothes, carrying the Torah in one hand, and a single long stemmed red rose with his other hand.
He looked up to see the sky raining autumnal leaves. .. the wind was swirling around, picking up a sea of crimson, ruby-red, rusty orange, and deep brown leaves and flinging them across the sky. David could only stare in awe. This was the most vivid dream he ever had. . .he could smell the fragrant colors emanating from the leaves, he could feel the cozy chill of the November air on his face and skin, he could hear every single leaf rustling, crinkling and laughing in joyous celebration.
David then saw a brilliant flash of blue light, and the next thing he knew, Lizzie was there, standing in front of him, in a flowing white dress, with her hair up, looking intently back at David, with a soft, beckoning smile on her face. She never looked more radiant and beautiful, gasped David. He found himself slowly approaching her, until he was within a breath of touching her. He looked at the rose in his right hand, lifted it up and handed it to Lizzie. Lizzie took it, gently breathed in its rosy fragrance, and said to David in a soft, angelic voice, "I love it, Gordo. Thank you."
"You're welcome, Lizzie," answered David, blushing madly.
"And Gordo?"
"Yes, Lizzie?"
"Always remember this. . .you are good enough, you've always been good enough, and you will always be good enough, Gordo, because you are, well, *you,*" whispered Lizzie.
David smiled and closed his eyes, taking in all of Lizzie's words. They were magic to his ears. David leaned closer into Lizzie, gently placed his hands on her hips, and leaned into her face to kiss her. "Lizzie, I just want to say something I've been meaning to say for as long as I can remember. . . Lizzie, I lo-"
__________________________________________________________________
RIIIINNNNNGGGGG!!!! RIINNNGGGGG!!!!
David leaped up from his slumber, startled awake by the telephone. Dazed and confused, David groggily searched for the phone and answered it. "He- hello?"
"Mr. Gordon, this is room service. I just wanted to inform you that we are running a bit behind as we have just gotten in a tour group from Japan who have not eaten all day, and they have us extremely busy at this moment. Your order may take an additional half-hour. I apologize for the inconvenience, and your order will be on the house tonight."
"Okay, thanks." David hung up the phone and looked at the clock. It was 1:30 a.m. He had been sleeping, and dreaming, for about a half-hour. The dream was still weighing on his heart and mind, and he muttered some epithets at room service for calling him and waking him up. It was the most wonderful dream he had ever had, and he hadn't want it to end. But, now, he was wide-awake, and wondering what he should do with himself.
He grabbed a complimentary magazine from the desk and began to flip through it. On the cover was the founder of YooHoo.Com, and inside was an article on the founder talking about the popularity of YooHoo chatrooms. He took the magazine back to his bed, then found the t.v. remote and began channel surfing.
As he flipped through several channels, he began to notice that on each channel, there was something about chatrooms. On Oprah, the topic of the show was on relationships developed in online chatrooms. On ESPN, a football player was being interviewed and was telling the host that his favorite hobby was chatting in chatrooms with fans. On HBO, they were showing "You've Got Mail," a romantic comedy in which Tom Hanks' character meets Meg Ryan's character online. Finally, on ABC, he saw a commercial encouraging people to chat in Yoohoo chatrooms. The owner of Yoohoo.com, Larry Lee, was in the commercial, and in the last scene, he stared directly to the audience, and said with a wink and a smile, "Don't *you* want to be chatting in a yoohoo chatroom right now, Gordo?"
Wha? Did the guy on t.v. just mentioned my name???? Uh, no, Gordo, he didn't, you're just extremely tired and starting to imagine things. But. . . well, while I'm waiting for my food, why not log on? David still wanted to do further research on chatroom culture for his film.
David wandered to his desk and re-started his laptop. As he was waiting for his computer to connect to the internet, he dug out from his pants pocket a little plastic figurine and placed it next to his laptop. It was a figurine that Lizzie had given to him when they were in the fourth grade, which he has carried around with him ever since. He always had it in his coat or pants pocket; he considered it his good luck charm, and something to remind him of Lizzie whenever they were apart.
David was finally online, and once there, he immediately logged onto yoohoo.com. He had gotten the hint; the universe was clearly telling him to "yoohoo!" as the commercials would say. After some thought, he decided to enter the chatroom that he, Lizzie, and Miranda and other Hilridge High students frequented after they had graduated from high school. He hadn't used this chatroom in six months, ever since he and Lizzie had the fight. But, even though he knew Lizzie hadn't used the chatroom in a while either, he was sorely missing Lizzie, especially after having had his dream, and he logged into the chatroom with a faint hope that Lizzie just might be there.
He logged in his username and entered the chatroom. He quickly glanced over the chatroom username list, and did not see any of Lizzie's usernames or any other familiar username. David was disappointed, but he knew that there was very little chance of running into Lizzie. So, he tried to get Lizzie off his mind, quickly typed in hello and began to ask the other chatters questions about their use of chatrooms.
David typically used his username DavidGordo when he chatted, but, because he was doing research, he wanted to remain anonymous, so he logged in with a username that he had just created. The username . . .Adam Gerbalm.