Chapter 3
Jana woke up early on Saturday to someone's incessant pounding on her bedroom door. "Get up! Get up! Before I break down the damned door!"
She rolled over, looked at her clock, saw 6:18, and promptly replied, "Whoever you are, you better fuck off before I render you incapable of producing spawn..."
Mr. Fisher laughed on the other side of the door. "Hey, spawn! Either you get up RIGHT NOW, or I'm going to bring Gordie in here when he comes into work in an hour and then I'll show him EXACTLY how you look in the morning!"
"He knows how I look in the morning..."
"GET UP."
Why do I have to get up?? HE'S the one working for you!"
"You have to come with us and show him the ropes!"
"I hate your office."
"No you don't! You love my office!"
"No I don't."
"I'll wear my roller skates," her father pleaded. "And I'll even drive with them."
She poked her head out the door. "Why would that be an incentive to come with you?"
He shrugged. "Early morning excitement?"
~~
"I can't believe I'm here," Jana grumbled, staring ahead at the windshield and watching the small streets of Castle Rock fly by as they headed to his building. "I can't believe it's seven thirty on a Saturday and I'm in your car because you don't think Gordie's capable of filing papers."
"Shut up."
"I can't believe I'm on my way to watch my best friend do NOTHING for six hours and then-"
"Will you SHUT UP? You so like him! I am TRYING to do you a favor!"
Jana's jaw dropped. "I WHAT and you're WHAT?"
"Don't you think I have EYES? You want to have his babies!"
"No I don't!"
"Do! Which, of course, is bad, because you can't have babies until you're thirty..."
"I don't want his babies!"
"Right. And I didn't want your mother's babies."
"You didn't have us, you moron! She did!"
"Well, she wanted MY babies."
"This is SO WRONG! We should not talk about this! In fact, no one should ever talk about you reproducing! Ever!"
"I am the father of four kids, young lady. I am the patriarch of a CLAN. And I'll have you know that that makes me a sex MACHINE."
"AHH!" Jana covered her ears. "I'm not listening to you! I'm not listening to you!"
"Ha ha ha... you are so young and impressionable," Mr. Fisher laughed as he turned the car off. "We're here. Time for you to go ogle your future mate."
"I don't OGLE," Jana replied heatedly, not moving. "And even if I did, it wouldn't be Gordie."
Mr. Fisher turned and stared at his daughter. "You know," he said, slowly, "I don't see what's WRONG with Gordie... I don't see what's so wrong with him that you can't even confess to OGLING him... we know you do..."
She sighed. "I DON'T ogle him. I just... he's been my best friend for too long to like him."
"Your mother and I were best friends for ten years before we started going out."
"You know," she remarked thoughtfully, "you've mentioned Mom more times this morning than you normally do in a month."
"It's her birthday," he replied simply.
Jana smiled. "Is it really? I wish I knew the date..."
"You're an idiot. It's May eighteenth. And I think that on your mother's birthday, you should reach out and tell Gordie you want to skronk him."
"I DON'T! What the hell is skronking?"
"Like screwing. Only it sounds a lot cooler."
"I do not want to SKRONK Gordie!"
"Well then you're stupid."
"Excuse me?"
"You're stupid! Gordie's a great kid! If I were a young teenage girl, I'd think he was hot!"
Jana stared. "That's it. You aren't allowed to talk anymore."
"I promise not to call any more of your friends hot."
"All right," Jana muttered. "Let's go."
By the time the two got halfway up the walkway into the office, Gordie rode his bike into the parking lot. "Jana! Mr. Fisher!" he called. The two spun around.
"Hey," Jana muttered, blushing. Her father poked her. "Don't touch me."
"Why are you here?" Gordie asked, leaning his bike up against the side of the building and putting an arm around Jana's shoulders. "I thought you were going to stay home."
"I was."
"But you're here."
"Yup."
"Someone's articulate," Gordie muttered.
"Don't worry, she's just on her period," Mr. Fisher said cheerfully, getting the mail from the box on the side of the building before he stepped in and met the blast of air-conditioning. Gordie's jaw dropped. Jana looked ready to kill.
"I can't believe you just said that," she murmured through clenched teeth.
"Mr. Fisher." Gordie pulled on his suit coat to get him to look down. "Mr. Fisher."
"What?"
"Does Jana really have a period?"
Mr. Fisher gave a blank stare. "Um..."
"I'm serious!"
"Well... yes..."
"Who'd she do it with?"
"WHAT? JANA!" Jana looked over her shoulder, scowled, and kept walking. Mr. Fisher looked at his daughter and then back at Gordie. "There was doing?"
"Doesn't there have to be?"
"What?"
"To get... you know..."
Mr. Fisher's eyes widened. "Gordie, you little naïve son of a..."
"WHAT are you two talking about back there?" Jana demanded, not looking back.
"Uh... we're having boy talk," her father responded. "Gordie and I are going to the bathroom now."
"Together? That's nasty... I thought you weren't going to call any of my friends hot anymore!"
"I didn't!"
"That includes propositioning them for sexual favors!"
"I'm not!" Not bothering to wait for a response, he shoved Gordie into a bathroom.
~~
"What in the world was that all about?" Jana asked ten minutes later. She seemed to have cheered up slightly after gluing herself to the coffee machine. Mr. Fisher looked around briefly to make sure that Gordie was still down the hall, organizing folders.
"Did you know that your little boyfriend's parents told him that you have to be pregnant to have a period?"
"WHAT the hell?"
"Yeah." Mr. Fisher frowned. "I know Dorothy Lachance. She was on the bridge club when your mother and I played. I don't know her husband very well, though."
"Who, Mark?"
"Right. Is he... you know..."
"Gordie doesn't talk about him very much, and most of the time, he comes over to our house instead of inviting me over. But from what I've seen of him, he's an ass, yeah."
"When did Denny die?"
"What?"
"Denny. When did he die?"
Jana put down a coffee cup and stared. "Why?"
"No particular reason." He shrugged. "Do you know?"
"Springtime of 1959."
"That was four or five years ago," Mr. Fisher mused, more to himself than to his daughter. "And they still haven't gotten over it."
"What are you talking about?"
"You don't think it's weird that Gordie doesn't know anything about life?"
"He does, he just..."
"Or that he never has any money?"
"They're sparing, they..."
"Or that he's never allowed to submit stuff to the newspaper, no matter how much we nag him to?"
"It's not because of his father, he-"
"Hey, Mr. Fisher," said Gordie himself, from the doorway. Father and daughter shifted uncomfortably, wondering how long he'd been there.
"Hey, Gord," he responded, clearing his throat. "What's up?"
"I just wanted to know where to put these," Gordie replied, holding up a sheaf of folders uncertainly.
"Oh, just... just put them on the desk." Mr. Fisher waved a hand dismissively. "It really doesn't matter... you'll find that our secretaries make it hard to mess up things too badly." He gave a smile, and Gordie left.
"I would adopt that kid if you weren't going to marry him anyway," Mr. Fisher announced, staring at the empty doorway.
"WHAT?"
"Wouldn't it suck having a family like his?"
"God, I don't know. I have to make do with you."
"You know you love it."
End of Chapter 3
The word "skronk" (and any variation, i.e. "skronking") belongs to the amazingly glorious Kate (Aleka), who has been kind enough to let me borrow that magnificent word.
Thanks to you readers! And, of course, apologies to any of you with weak constitutions offended by my use of the term "period" in a story that is, after all, based on a movie about four GUYS.
Heart!
Jana woke up early on Saturday to someone's incessant pounding on her bedroom door. "Get up! Get up! Before I break down the damned door!"
She rolled over, looked at her clock, saw 6:18, and promptly replied, "Whoever you are, you better fuck off before I render you incapable of producing spawn..."
Mr. Fisher laughed on the other side of the door. "Hey, spawn! Either you get up RIGHT NOW, or I'm going to bring Gordie in here when he comes into work in an hour and then I'll show him EXACTLY how you look in the morning!"
"He knows how I look in the morning..."
"GET UP."
Why do I have to get up?? HE'S the one working for you!"
"You have to come with us and show him the ropes!"
"I hate your office."
"No you don't! You love my office!"
"No I don't."
"I'll wear my roller skates," her father pleaded. "And I'll even drive with them."
She poked her head out the door. "Why would that be an incentive to come with you?"
He shrugged. "Early morning excitement?"
~~
"I can't believe I'm here," Jana grumbled, staring ahead at the windshield and watching the small streets of Castle Rock fly by as they headed to his building. "I can't believe it's seven thirty on a Saturday and I'm in your car because you don't think Gordie's capable of filing papers."
"Shut up."
"I can't believe I'm on my way to watch my best friend do NOTHING for six hours and then-"
"Will you SHUT UP? You so like him! I am TRYING to do you a favor!"
Jana's jaw dropped. "I WHAT and you're WHAT?"
"Don't you think I have EYES? You want to have his babies!"
"No I don't!"
"Do! Which, of course, is bad, because you can't have babies until you're thirty..."
"I don't want his babies!"
"Right. And I didn't want your mother's babies."
"You didn't have us, you moron! She did!"
"Well, she wanted MY babies."
"This is SO WRONG! We should not talk about this! In fact, no one should ever talk about you reproducing! Ever!"
"I am the father of four kids, young lady. I am the patriarch of a CLAN. And I'll have you know that that makes me a sex MACHINE."
"AHH!" Jana covered her ears. "I'm not listening to you! I'm not listening to you!"
"Ha ha ha... you are so young and impressionable," Mr. Fisher laughed as he turned the car off. "We're here. Time for you to go ogle your future mate."
"I don't OGLE," Jana replied heatedly, not moving. "And even if I did, it wouldn't be Gordie."
Mr. Fisher turned and stared at his daughter. "You know," he said, slowly, "I don't see what's WRONG with Gordie... I don't see what's so wrong with him that you can't even confess to OGLING him... we know you do..."
She sighed. "I DON'T ogle him. I just... he's been my best friend for too long to like him."
"Your mother and I were best friends for ten years before we started going out."
"You know," she remarked thoughtfully, "you've mentioned Mom more times this morning than you normally do in a month."
"It's her birthday," he replied simply.
Jana smiled. "Is it really? I wish I knew the date..."
"You're an idiot. It's May eighteenth. And I think that on your mother's birthday, you should reach out and tell Gordie you want to skronk him."
"I DON'T! What the hell is skronking?"
"Like screwing. Only it sounds a lot cooler."
"I do not want to SKRONK Gordie!"
"Well then you're stupid."
"Excuse me?"
"You're stupid! Gordie's a great kid! If I were a young teenage girl, I'd think he was hot!"
Jana stared. "That's it. You aren't allowed to talk anymore."
"I promise not to call any more of your friends hot."
"All right," Jana muttered. "Let's go."
By the time the two got halfway up the walkway into the office, Gordie rode his bike into the parking lot. "Jana! Mr. Fisher!" he called. The two spun around.
"Hey," Jana muttered, blushing. Her father poked her. "Don't touch me."
"Why are you here?" Gordie asked, leaning his bike up against the side of the building and putting an arm around Jana's shoulders. "I thought you were going to stay home."
"I was."
"But you're here."
"Yup."
"Someone's articulate," Gordie muttered.
"Don't worry, she's just on her period," Mr. Fisher said cheerfully, getting the mail from the box on the side of the building before he stepped in and met the blast of air-conditioning. Gordie's jaw dropped. Jana looked ready to kill.
"I can't believe you just said that," she murmured through clenched teeth.
"Mr. Fisher." Gordie pulled on his suit coat to get him to look down. "Mr. Fisher."
"What?"
"Does Jana really have a period?"
Mr. Fisher gave a blank stare. "Um..."
"I'm serious!"
"Well... yes..."
"Who'd she do it with?"
"WHAT? JANA!" Jana looked over her shoulder, scowled, and kept walking. Mr. Fisher looked at his daughter and then back at Gordie. "There was doing?"
"Doesn't there have to be?"
"What?"
"To get... you know..."
Mr. Fisher's eyes widened. "Gordie, you little naïve son of a..."
"WHAT are you two talking about back there?" Jana demanded, not looking back.
"Uh... we're having boy talk," her father responded. "Gordie and I are going to the bathroom now."
"Together? That's nasty... I thought you weren't going to call any of my friends hot anymore!"
"I didn't!"
"That includes propositioning them for sexual favors!"
"I'm not!" Not bothering to wait for a response, he shoved Gordie into a bathroom.
~~
"What in the world was that all about?" Jana asked ten minutes later. She seemed to have cheered up slightly after gluing herself to the coffee machine. Mr. Fisher looked around briefly to make sure that Gordie was still down the hall, organizing folders.
"Did you know that your little boyfriend's parents told him that you have to be pregnant to have a period?"
"WHAT the hell?"
"Yeah." Mr. Fisher frowned. "I know Dorothy Lachance. She was on the bridge club when your mother and I played. I don't know her husband very well, though."
"Who, Mark?"
"Right. Is he... you know..."
"Gordie doesn't talk about him very much, and most of the time, he comes over to our house instead of inviting me over. But from what I've seen of him, he's an ass, yeah."
"When did Denny die?"
"What?"
"Denny. When did he die?"
Jana put down a coffee cup and stared. "Why?"
"No particular reason." He shrugged. "Do you know?"
"Springtime of 1959."
"That was four or five years ago," Mr. Fisher mused, more to himself than to his daughter. "And they still haven't gotten over it."
"What are you talking about?"
"You don't think it's weird that Gordie doesn't know anything about life?"
"He does, he just..."
"Or that he never has any money?"
"They're sparing, they..."
"Or that he's never allowed to submit stuff to the newspaper, no matter how much we nag him to?"
"It's not because of his father, he-"
"Hey, Mr. Fisher," said Gordie himself, from the doorway. Father and daughter shifted uncomfortably, wondering how long he'd been there.
"Hey, Gord," he responded, clearing his throat. "What's up?"
"I just wanted to know where to put these," Gordie replied, holding up a sheaf of folders uncertainly.
"Oh, just... just put them on the desk." Mr. Fisher waved a hand dismissively. "It really doesn't matter... you'll find that our secretaries make it hard to mess up things too badly." He gave a smile, and Gordie left.
"I would adopt that kid if you weren't going to marry him anyway," Mr. Fisher announced, staring at the empty doorway.
"WHAT?"
"Wouldn't it suck having a family like his?"
"God, I don't know. I have to make do with you."
"You know you love it."
End of Chapter 3
The word "skronk" (and any variation, i.e. "skronking") belongs to the amazingly glorious Kate (Aleka), who has been kind enough to let me borrow that magnificent word.
Thanks to you readers! And, of course, apologies to any of you with weak constitutions offended by my use of the term "period" in a story that is, after all, based on a movie about four GUYS.
Heart!
