I don't know why this is here... I just felt like writing a Gordie story, I
guess. I do love Gordie. I think I'm officially discontinuing "Uncle
Chrissy". I'm out of ideas and it wasn't that great a story anyway.
Chapter 1
"Clean your room."
"I'm young. I shouldn't have to."
"January Eleanora Fisher! You march right upstairs and you clean your room!"
Jana smiled slightly and cradled the phone in her other hand. "Yes, dad. Right away, dad."
"Excuse me?"
"I mean, yes, male parental unit who is NOT a Nazi totalitarian leader and whom I love very much. Right away, male parental unit who is NOT a Nazi totalitarian leader and whom I love very much."
On the other end of the line, her dad smiled too. "Good job! I knew you could do it, you little genius, you!"
Jana grinned. "Okay, dad. I love you."
"I love you too," he replied. "Bye. Oh! Wait!"
She grinned. Her dad could never remember everything he wanted to say at the first opportunity, so she'd learned to keep the phone up to her ear until he hung up.
"Janie! I forgot to tell you! Gordie called this morning. He's coming over. He said he was bringing a ladder so I expect him up your window soon. I should be home shortly after he gets there. Then I'll make finger sandwiches."
"Finger sandwiches? What are you, a SOCCER MOM?"
"Hell no. I'll put some salami on a plate and shove it under your door."
"Thanks, dad."
"No problem. I love you." This time she heard the click of her father hanging up, so she replaced the phone on the receiver and turned up the stairs, this time making it up to her room. She shut the door, quietly so as not to wake the sleeping cat on her bed, and set about the task of organizing her books.
"Hey."
"Aaah!" She shrieked, dropped the book she was holding, and whipped around to see the owner of the voice, Gordie Lachance, staring at her through the window, propped up on a ladder.
"Good to see you, too," he acknowledged, tipping his baseball cap as he tumbled in her window. "It's nice to know you're loved."
"Did I say you weren't loved? I screamed because I heard someone greeting me from my second story window!"
"Oh, HUSH, girl. Do you ever stop talking about things that don't matter?"
"Nope. You know me."
"You are my source for the mundane," he agreed, hopping onto her bed and petting her kitten. "You know I only come over here for little Zeppy here." The kitten purred under his hand.
Jana gave him a fond but stern look and set her book away. "Thank you," she replied dryly.
"No problem. You know I'm always right here. Now hey, do you have Callahan's assignment?"
"Aha! I knew it!"
"Why, knew what?" he asked, trying pitifully to feign innocence.
"Ulterior motives!" she cried triumphantly. "Lachance, I KNOW you!"
"Right, right. Now do you have the assignment or not?"
"Gordie. Come on. We're talking about Jana and an English assignment. Now reach far into your memory and tell me one time I haven't copied the assignment from YOU."
He pretended to think a while, then shrugged. "Nope. Can't do it. That's why I came over. To help you."
Her heart melted. "Aww!"
He waved his completed assignment in the air for a few seconds before pulling out her desk chair. "Have you even started?"
"Nope."
"Wow, are you ignorant."
"And proud." He smiled when she said this; she loved it when she made him smile.
"Here, sit," he said, taking her elbow and leading her over to her desk. "Now sit. We are going to learn English!"
"My dad got you over here, didn't he?"
"Oh, he might have. Now sit!" He cleared his throat. "English is everywhere, Jana. You're surrounded by adverbs, prepositional phrases, and- "
"Thank you, Mr. Callahan!" she interrupted, smiling. "Christ."
He grinned back. "Foundations are very important."
"I think I've got the basics. Now please, if you'll pardon the expression, tell me something I don't know."
"President Taft was the first president to ever be buried in a piano case."
"Excuse me?"
"You didn't know that, did you?"
"Well, no, but that wasn't exactly the type of thing I needed to hear."
"Why, are you going to get all insecure about your weight now? Jana, I think you're perfect the way you are."
"Well, yes, I know you do, but that's because I'm not going to get buried in a piano case!"
"Yes, yes, probably true," he agreed. "Though it's always a possibility," he added, winking.
"Gordie! I'm hurt."
"Yeah, you look it. Let's work on English. Try not to get us sidetracked anymore, okay?"
"Sure, I- hey!" Talking to Gordie was certainly... an experience, she thought to herself, smiling. It always left her feeling a little slower than she'd felt when she started. "You know, normally, I consider myself to be a very witty person," she began. "But you. you change everything, you know that?"
"I leave a lot of people in my mental dust," he said, very seriously.
She stared.
"I'm kidding!"
"I thought so."
"Well, at least, I might be."
"Oh, Gordie."
"I know. I'm incorrigible." His eyes sparkled. "What are you going to do with me?"
"Uh, learn English?"
"Oh yeah! You and your sidetracking. I'd completely forgotten."
"Right."
"Hey Jana. Tell me the difference between an adverb and an adjective."
"Uh, one's got 'verb' in it, and the other one's long and scary-looking."
"Good!... kind of. Way to get a good start!... sort of. You wanna help me out with this Venn Diagram?"
"Nope. I think you can handle it on your own, you're a big boy."
He put a hand over his heart. "Of course I can do it, Jana. But to really instill heart and feeling into it, I'm going to need your help, or it will be a simply lifeless diagram. And then the other Venn Diagrams will tease it on the playground. Do you really want to be the one that scars the little baby Venn Diagram?"
"It scarred me! My first memory of school is in first grade when Mrs. Jackson told me to make a Venn diagram, and I couldn't do it!"
"Well, two wrongs don't make a right. Now just do the damn thing."
Suddenly Mr. Fisher poked his head into his daughter's door. "Gordie!" he cried enthusiastically. "It's so good to see you!" He then mock-glared at his daughter. "I could have had the finger sandwiches ready minutes ago."
Gordie raised an eyebrow. "Finger sandwiches?"
"Dad thinks he's a cook," Jana explained.
Mr. Fisher's jaw dropped. "Hey! Do you want food or not??"
"Please?" Jana asked, smiling.
"Please WHAT?"
Jana rolled her eyes and sighed. "Please, male parental unit who is not a Nazi totalitarian leader and whom I love very much?"
"Better! I'll be back up in a second with some cheese and crackers, how's that sound?"
"Oh, wonderful, Daddy. Thanks. Welcome home, by the way."
"No problem. Study hard," he replied, smiling at the two as he closed the door. "And Jana," they heard him yell through the closed door, "if you call that clean, there will be some SERIOUSLY totalitarian-esque training seminars going on tomorrow."
"I love your dad," Gordie commented, grinning and shaking his head.
"I do too," she agreed, smiling now herself.
Jana lived alone with her father. She had three other brothers, but they were all older. The youngest, Adam, was 19, and going to college over at the state university, and the oldest, Mark, was 26 and a veterinarian who lived with his wife, Tracy, about fifteen minutes from her house. They were expecting their first child soon. In the middle was Jack, Jana's favorite, who was single and who lived only ten minutes away.
"Why do you live alone?" Gordie asked suddenly.
She looked up, surprised. "I don't," she answered.
"You know what I mean. What happened to your mother? You don't have to answer if you don't want to."
"You know what happened to my mother. She died."
"Yeah, I know. But how?"
"She fell off a skiing chairlift."
"I'm serious!"
"Uh, me too."
Gordie reddened. "Oh my God."
"It's okay."
"I'm sorry I brought it up. I was just curious."
"No, it's okay. I don't remember her. Besides, if you can't be an idiot in front of me, who will you reveal your true self to?"
"Chris. Teddy. Vern. All those friends I have that aren't you." He smiled. "But thank you for not hating me because I'm a callous, insensitive bottom- feeder."
"No problem."
"You know, I really like you."
"Oh, I know."
"I know you know. I'm just reminding you, in case you forgot."
"I won't forget."
"Okay. Good."
"Gordie. I'm shocked. What brings all this emotion up?"
"Oh, I don't know. Life, I guess." For a little while he looked vulnerable, but then he put on his jolly, happy-go-lucky face again and grinned at her. "You know what you need?"
"No, what?"
"A boyfriend."
"A boyfriend! Oh, why didn't I think of that! Why don't you get me one for Christmas, Gordie?" She glared at him.
"Wow! Touchy, aren't we?"
"Not touchy, per se... I'm simply acutely aware of the situation."
"Touchy!"
"Am not!"
"Touchy!"
"Am not!"
"What's a preposition?"
"Am not!"
"Uh, I know you aren't. But what is?"
"Huh?"
"A preposition. What is it?"
"Uh, a word?"
"Wow. That was deep," he muttered sarcastically. "Anything you'd like to add to that?"
"Uh, no?"
He sighed. "A word relating...?"
"A word? A word relating a word?"
"Correct!"
Jana's jaw dropped. "Are you serious??"
"Actually, yes. You are right on an English question for the first time in... oh, let me see... oh yeah... ever!"
Jana's father popped his head in again. "Really?" he asked, coming in and setting down a plate of cheese and crackers in front of his daughter and her friend. "Jana got a question right?"
"Yup!"
Mr. Fisher smiled. "That's great! Wow, times like this really make me wish my daughter was consistently intelligent..."
Gordie cackled.
"All I can do," he continued, looking at Gordie, "is have her hang out with you and hope that maybe some of your smartness will rub off on her... though if I ever catch you two doing any PHYSICAL rubbing of any kind, I will cut off your rubbers... rubbers... I think those are some sort of rain utensil in England... perhaps they are erasers... for all intents and purposes, though, the aforementioned rubbers are referring to any sexual organs that-"
"DAD. STOP."
Gordie, who had begun laughing at the word "rubbers", was now having trouble breathing as he looked at Jana's face, contorted in a strange combination of embarrassment and rage. "Mr. Fisher, you're my hero."
The older man smiled at Gordie. "I know. Why aren't you kids outside? Go! Go! Get fresh air!" And with that, he pushed the two whippersnappers out of the house.
End of Chapter 1
Mr. Fisher IS my dad... God. My father has had the exact "rubber" conversation with Alex, the Gordie in my life. How sad is that?
Review; let me know if I suck at writing romances or if you want more : )
Heart!
Chapter 1
"Clean your room."
"I'm young. I shouldn't have to."
"January Eleanora Fisher! You march right upstairs and you clean your room!"
Jana smiled slightly and cradled the phone in her other hand. "Yes, dad. Right away, dad."
"Excuse me?"
"I mean, yes, male parental unit who is NOT a Nazi totalitarian leader and whom I love very much. Right away, male parental unit who is NOT a Nazi totalitarian leader and whom I love very much."
On the other end of the line, her dad smiled too. "Good job! I knew you could do it, you little genius, you!"
Jana grinned. "Okay, dad. I love you."
"I love you too," he replied. "Bye. Oh! Wait!"
She grinned. Her dad could never remember everything he wanted to say at the first opportunity, so she'd learned to keep the phone up to her ear until he hung up.
"Janie! I forgot to tell you! Gordie called this morning. He's coming over. He said he was bringing a ladder so I expect him up your window soon. I should be home shortly after he gets there. Then I'll make finger sandwiches."
"Finger sandwiches? What are you, a SOCCER MOM?"
"Hell no. I'll put some salami on a plate and shove it under your door."
"Thanks, dad."
"No problem. I love you." This time she heard the click of her father hanging up, so she replaced the phone on the receiver and turned up the stairs, this time making it up to her room. She shut the door, quietly so as not to wake the sleeping cat on her bed, and set about the task of organizing her books.
"Hey."
"Aaah!" She shrieked, dropped the book she was holding, and whipped around to see the owner of the voice, Gordie Lachance, staring at her through the window, propped up on a ladder.
"Good to see you, too," he acknowledged, tipping his baseball cap as he tumbled in her window. "It's nice to know you're loved."
"Did I say you weren't loved? I screamed because I heard someone greeting me from my second story window!"
"Oh, HUSH, girl. Do you ever stop talking about things that don't matter?"
"Nope. You know me."
"You are my source for the mundane," he agreed, hopping onto her bed and petting her kitten. "You know I only come over here for little Zeppy here." The kitten purred under his hand.
Jana gave him a fond but stern look and set her book away. "Thank you," she replied dryly.
"No problem. You know I'm always right here. Now hey, do you have Callahan's assignment?"
"Aha! I knew it!"
"Why, knew what?" he asked, trying pitifully to feign innocence.
"Ulterior motives!" she cried triumphantly. "Lachance, I KNOW you!"
"Right, right. Now do you have the assignment or not?"
"Gordie. Come on. We're talking about Jana and an English assignment. Now reach far into your memory and tell me one time I haven't copied the assignment from YOU."
He pretended to think a while, then shrugged. "Nope. Can't do it. That's why I came over. To help you."
Her heart melted. "Aww!"
He waved his completed assignment in the air for a few seconds before pulling out her desk chair. "Have you even started?"
"Nope."
"Wow, are you ignorant."
"And proud." He smiled when she said this; she loved it when she made him smile.
"Here, sit," he said, taking her elbow and leading her over to her desk. "Now sit. We are going to learn English!"
"My dad got you over here, didn't he?"
"Oh, he might have. Now sit!" He cleared his throat. "English is everywhere, Jana. You're surrounded by adverbs, prepositional phrases, and- "
"Thank you, Mr. Callahan!" she interrupted, smiling. "Christ."
He grinned back. "Foundations are very important."
"I think I've got the basics. Now please, if you'll pardon the expression, tell me something I don't know."
"President Taft was the first president to ever be buried in a piano case."
"Excuse me?"
"You didn't know that, did you?"
"Well, no, but that wasn't exactly the type of thing I needed to hear."
"Why, are you going to get all insecure about your weight now? Jana, I think you're perfect the way you are."
"Well, yes, I know you do, but that's because I'm not going to get buried in a piano case!"
"Yes, yes, probably true," he agreed. "Though it's always a possibility," he added, winking.
"Gordie! I'm hurt."
"Yeah, you look it. Let's work on English. Try not to get us sidetracked anymore, okay?"
"Sure, I- hey!" Talking to Gordie was certainly... an experience, she thought to herself, smiling. It always left her feeling a little slower than she'd felt when she started. "You know, normally, I consider myself to be a very witty person," she began. "But you. you change everything, you know that?"
"I leave a lot of people in my mental dust," he said, very seriously.
She stared.
"I'm kidding!"
"I thought so."
"Well, at least, I might be."
"Oh, Gordie."
"I know. I'm incorrigible." His eyes sparkled. "What are you going to do with me?"
"Uh, learn English?"
"Oh yeah! You and your sidetracking. I'd completely forgotten."
"Right."
"Hey Jana. Tell me the difference between an adverb and an adjective."
"Uh, one's got 'verb' in it, and the other one's long and scary-looking."
"Good!... kind of. Way to get a good start!... sort of. You wanna help me out with this Venn Diagram?"
"Nope. I think you can handle it on your own, you're a big boy."
He put a hand over his heart. "Of course I can do it, Jana. But to really instill heart and feeling into it, I'm going to need your help, or it will be a simply lifeless diagram. And then the other Venn Diagrams will tease it on the playground. Do you really want to be the one that scars the little baby Venn Diagram?"
"It scarred me! My first memory of school is in first grade when Mrs. Jackson told me to make a Venn diagram, and I couldn't do it!"
"Well, two wrongs don't make a right. Now just do the damn thing."
Suddenly Mr. Fisher poked his head into his daughter's door. "Gordie!" he cried enthusiastically. "It's so good to see you!" He then mock-glared at his daughter. "I could have had the finger sandwiches ready minutes ago."
Gordie raised an eyebrow. "Finger sandwiches?"
"Dad thinks he's a cook," Jana explained.
Mr. Fisher's jaw dropped. "Hey! Do you want food or not??"
"Please?" Jana asked, smiling.
"Please WHAT?"
Jana rolled her eyes and sighed. "Please, male parental unit who is not a Nazi totalitarian leader and whom I love very much?"
"Better! I'll be back up in a second with some cheese and crackers, how's that sound?"
"Oh, wonderful, Daddy. Thanks. Welcome home, by the way."
"No problem. Study hard," he replied, smiling at the two as he closed the door. "And Jana," they heard him yell through the closed door, "if you call that clean, there will be some SERIOUSLY totalitarian-esque training seminars going on tomorrow."
"I love your dad," Gordie commented, grinning and shaking his head.
"I do too," she agreed, smiling now herself.
Jana lived alone with her father. She had three other brothers, but they were all older. The youngest, Adam, was 19, and going to college over at the state university, and the oldest, Mark, was 26 and a veterinarian who lived with his wife, Tracy, about fifteen minutes from her house. They were expecting their first child soon. In the middle was Jack, Jana's favorite, who was single and who lived only ten minutes away.
"Why do you live alone?" Gordie asked suddenly.
She looked up, surprised. "I don't," she answered.
"You know what I mean. What happened to your mother? You don't have to answer if you don't want to."
"You know what happened to my mother. She died."
"Yeah, I know. But how?"
"She fell off a skiing chairlift."
"I'm serious!"
"Uh, me too."
Gordie reddened. "Oh my God."
"It's okay."
"I'm sorry I brought it up. I was just curious."
"No, it's okay. I don't remember her. Besides, if you can't be an idiot in front of me, who will you reveal your true self to?"
"Chris. Teddy. Vern. All those friends I have that aren't you." He smiled. "But thank you for not hating me because I'm a callous, insensitive bottom- feeder."
"No problem."
"You know, I really like you."
"Oh, I know."
"I know you know. I'm just reminding you, in case you forgot."
"I won't forget."
"Okay. Good."
"Gordie. I'm shocked. What brings all this emotion up?"
"Oh, I don't know. Life, I guess." For a little while he looked vulnerable, but then he put on his jolly, happy-go-lucky face again and grinned at her. "You know what you need?"
"No, what?"
"A boyfriend."
"A boyfriend! Oh, why didn't I think of that! Why don't you get me one for Christmas, Gordie?" She glared at him.
"Wow! Touchy, aren't we?"
"Not touchy, per se... I'm simply acutely aware of the situation."
"Touchy!"
"Am not!"
"Touchy!"
"Am not!"
"What's a preposition?"
"Am not!"
"Uh, I know you aren't. But what is?"
"Huh?"
"A preposition. What is it?"
"Uh, a word?"
"Wow. That was deep," he muttered sarcastically. "Anything you'd like to add to that?"
"Uh, no?"
He sighed. "A word relating...?"
"A word? A word relating a word?"
"Correct!"
Jana's jaw dropped. "Are you serious??"
"Actually, yes. You are right on an English question for the first time in... oh, let me see... oh yeah... ever!"
Jana's father popped his head in again. "Really?" he asked, coming in and setting down a plate of cheese and crackers in front of his daughter and her friend. "Jana got a question right?"
"Yup!"
Mr. Fisher smiled. "That's great! Wow, times like this really make me wish my daughter was consistently intelligent..."
Gordie cackled.
"All I can do," he continued, looking at Gordie, "is have her hang out with you and hope that maybe some of your smartness will rub off on her... though if I ever catch you two doing any PHYSICAL rubbing of any kind, I will cut off your rubbers... rubbers... I think those are some sort of rain utensil in England... perhaps they are erasers... for all intents and purposes, though, the aforementioned rubbers are referring to any sexual organs that-"
"DAD. STOP."
Gordie, who had begun laughing at the word "rubbers", was now having trouble breathing as he looked at Jana's face, contorted in a strange combination of embarrassment and rage. "Mr. Fisher, you're my hero."
The older man smiled at Gordie. "I know. Why aren't you kids outside? Go! Go! Get fresh air!" And with that, he pushed the two whippersnappers out of the house.
End of Chapter 1
Mr. Fisher IS my dad... God. My father has had the exact "rubber" conversation with Alex, the Gordie in my life. How sad is that?
Review; let me know if I suck at writing romances or if you want more : )
Heart!
