Chapter 5
"So you're almost out of school," Mr. Fisher said mildly, putting down a book ("Parenting, Vol. 15: What To Do If You Think Your Child May Be Neurotic") and peering at Gordie, who was on the other side of the office, feeding his fish.
Gordie grinned. "Two more weeks."
"What are you going to do?" he asked, taking his glasses off and setting them down on the desk. "You've only got to work for me for another month. Any plans for the rest of the summer?"
"Nope." Gordie shrugged. "Are you guys going camping again this year?"
"Sure are. July 14 to the 21."
"Cool."
"Want to come?" Mr. Fisher asked spontaneously.
Gordie's jaw dropped. "Really?"
"Yeah, would you have fun?"
"Yeah!"
"So you want to come?" He couldn't help but smile at the younger boy's joyful look.
"Hell yes!" Gordie's eyes dropped. "I don't know what my dad will say, though... you know... alone with a girl and her dad..."
"Gordie. Snap out of it. I'll talk to your father for you."
Gordie winced. "He hates you."
"He's jealous of my blatant sex appeal."
Gordie winced. "Jack, he hates you."
Mr. Fisher sighed. "Oh well," he muttered finally. "I'll talk to him tonight."
~~
"Hey, dad," Jana called from her bedroom when she heard the door slam.
"It's me," Gordie called back. Jana popped her head out of the doorway.
"Don't take this the wrong way... what the hell are you doing here?"
"Your dad invited me to go camping with you!"
Her jaw dropped. "No way!"
"Way!"
"YES!" She grinned and hugged him.
"Wow. I didn't know you were so anxious to spend so much time alone with me in a tent." Gordie waggled his eyebrows, but succeeded only in making Jana roll her eyes.
"How do you pick up ANY women?"
"I'm much smoother around them than I am around you. Besides, you've known me for so long that you've grown immune to my charms."
"Right. Hey, what did your mom and dad say about you camping with us?"
"We... haven't... told them... yet..."
"What, are we just going to sneak you into our truck and drive over to Finland?"
Gordie stared. "You can't drive to Finland, you moron."
"You can't?"
"No!"
"Dad did, last time he was on business!"
"He went to MEXICO, Jana."
"Isn't Finland in Mexico?" she asked, confused, as she reached on top of her refrigerator for a banana.
"Um, no. I can't deal with this. I don't have the energy to deal with this. I am sick of your idiocy. Let's go to the Blue Pointe; I'm hungry."
"Oh, I can't," Jana replied casually.
"Why?"
"I'm grounded."
"You're WHAT?" Gordie screeched.
"I'm grounded."
"Why?? If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times! PROSTITUTION IS WRONG!"
Jana gave him a dirty look. "I'm grounded for failing my English exam."
"You FAILED it?" repeated Gordie, who was looking dazed. "But... but I tutored you for days... WEEKS..." He sighed. "You idiot. Did you at least pass the class?"
"Barely."
"So you did pass?" Gordie asked, looking relieved. "I can't take English without you."
"Of course I passed. After giving Mr. Callahan a lap dance."
"WHAT?"
"I'm KIDDING. Maybe."
"Whatever... I no longer care. Anyway... so you can't go out of the house?"
"Nope." Jana folded her arms. "You can't tell me you aced all of your finals."
"Everything but math."
"HA!" She pumped a triumphant fist in the air. "That's the one exam I got an A on! Well, that and Science."
"You realize you're living in a man's world?"
"Shut up."
~~
"I've invited your dad over for dinner, Gordie," Mr. Fisher announced as he hung up his sweater, an hour and fifteen rounds of "Go Fish" later. "Wow, it is WARM out there for May..."
"He's coming HERE?" Gordie asked, dropping his cards in astonishment.
"Yup. He'll be here in an hour."
Gordie scrambled up. "Have you gone temporarily INSANE?" he demanded, waving a hand in front of Mr. Fisher's face. "What the hell were you thinking?"
"I was thinking that since I'm going to ask if you can come camping, he'll have to know the family a little better... I think that'll help our chances."
"We don't have chances! We've never had chances! This is my dad! Mark Lachance!"
"He always seems to walk like he has a corn-cob up his ass," Mr. Fisher observed. "Perhaps that's why he's so ill-tempered."
Gordie half-smiled. "You know I mean this in the best possible way, Jack, but... he will hate you."
"You don't KNOW that. Well, perhaps you do. But it wounds my self esteem when you say things like that, so I'm going to have to ask you not to-"
"Look, if you can't even handle me saying that my dad will hate you, I don't think you're ready to actually MEET him."
"He hates me," Jana volunteered helpfully. Her father looked at her.
"You're sitting in the room with the only person in the world who doesn't hate you," her father explained gently. Then he looked up. "Gordie, is it a burden?"
"I hate you more than you hate me," Jana muttered, burying her face in the couch.
"Oh, I'm sure. Anyway, Gordie, what are your father's favorite foods? Keep in mind that the liver and spleens of young children are slightly hard to find, that mold takes more than an hour to grow, and that bat colons are out of season."
Gordie shrugged. "Potatoes?"
"Wow. Thanks. I'll keep that in mind as I make the dinner... we have pork. Does he like pork?"
"I guess so..."
"How can you not know? He either likes pork or he doesn't! Which one is it, boy? Pork? No pork?"
"I don't-"
"I don't want to hear it! Shut the pork up!"
~~
Another hour found Gordie bedecked in a "Just Another Sexy Bald Guy" apron and checking on corn bread as Mr. Fisher poked the pork with a pen.
"Someone's knocking," Jana announced from her spot in the living room. "And what the hell is this book on neurotic children?"
"Later," her father cried. "Oh God! He's here! Gordie! Get that apron off!"
Gordie yanked the apron over his head in time to hear, "John Fisher? Mark Lachance."
"You can call me Jack, if you like..." Mr. Fisher responded uneasily.
"We'll stick with John, thank you," Mark Lachance responded in a clipped, curt tone. "Where is Gordon?"
"Oh, he's... in the... in the kitchen." Mr. Fisher was already sounding defeated and showing signs of depreciation.
"Thank you. Gordon." Mr. Lachance strolled into the kitchen. "How have you been."
"Oh. Um... fine," Gordie muttered, kicking the apron under the table.
"Where is January?"
"She's... in the living room..."
"Not entertaining her guest?" his father questioned, lifting an eyebrow.
Gordie looked over at Mr. Fisher helplessly, who shrugged in an equally helpless manner. "Well, we were making dinner, and-"
Mark Lachance held up a silencing hand. "Enough, I've heard enough. Get her out here and we'll eat."
Mr. Fisher shot a look at Gordie and bolted into the living room.
"Dad," Gordie murmured softly, "please, try and be nice."
"What? I am nice," he responded curtly.
"Why isn't mom here?"
"Your mother has more important things to do than come to diner with your friends, Gordon."
Gordie bit back a "So you don't?" and nodded.
"This place is falling apart," Mr. Lachance observed, pounding the plaster of the wall he was standing next to. "Those shelves are crooked. That tile is chipped; the paint in the corners is peeling. Between this place and the Chambers', you're turning into genuine trailer trash, Gordon."
"We're here," Mr. Fisher said from the doorway, flustered, as he and Jana filed in, trying to make controlled, reserved movements.
"Hello," greeted Mr. Lachance as everyone pulled out chairs and sat down. They ate in silence for a few minutes before Mr. Lachance broke it again. "Can I ask why I'm here?"
"I wanted to... well, my daughter and I go on a camping trip every year, you see," Mr. Fisher began, putting down his silverware. "And this year... we were wondering if perhaps your son could come."
Mr. Lachance's eyes widened. "Mr. Fisher, I-"
"Jack, or John, whichever you-"
"MR. FISHER," Mr. Lachance interrupted. "Mr. Fisher, I don't think it's right that you and your daughter take unaccompanied trips at all. It's not traditional, I don't like it. The last thing I want is you taking my son along so you can plant more ideas in his head."
"Excuse me?" Mr. Fisher's voice acquired a sort of stiffness.
"You're the one paying for my son's poetry contest entry, are you not?"
"Well, yes, but it's just a-"
"Mr. Fisher." Mark Lachance stood up. "I am only going to say this once, but I am going to make it very clear. I don't like you. I don't think you're a good person. And I don't like your daughter. I will CERTAINLY not have you taking my son off to the wilderness to tramp over God knows what, and, for future reference, you absolutely may NOT have my son "work for you" over at that office of yours without my consent!"
"Sir, I just-"
"Mr. Fisher, if you knew what it was like to be worried about your child, to be-"
Mr. Fisher drew himself up angrily. "Are you insinuating that I don't know how to take care of my children?"
"How can you be sure she's even yours?" Mr. Lachance asked sweetly. "Look at your jet black hair. Your wife, as I recall, had black hair as well... January has red hair. I can't help but wonder what color your milkman's hair was? I seem to remember your wife having... non-traditional values..."
"You leave my wife out of this," Mr. Fisher muttered through gritted teeth.
"Dad," Gordie whispered, and put a hand on his father's arm. "Sit down."
"Gordon, we are leaving," Mr. Lachance said loudly and clearly.
"I don't want to," Gordie replied, and pulled away, but his father had a firm grip on his sleeve.
"What did I just say?"
"Well, dad, I want to-"
"Don't make him leave," Mr. Fisher ordered with disgust in his voice. "As a person you disgust me, but as a parent you horrify me, and it mortifies me that someone like yourself is allowed to rear someone as brilliant as Gordie and subject him to all of your monstrosities."
"Mr. Fisher, I am warning you that-"
"To hell with your warnings. Gordie, would you like to sleep on our couch tonight?"
"You sleep with them and you'll be sleeping with them for the rest of your life," his father growled angrily.
Gordie looked in between the two men and spied Jana, looking down at the table with two tears pouring down her cheeks. "Dad, I'm going to sleep here tonight," he said quietly. "I hope in the morning that you reconsider this, but for now I can't go home with you."
Mr. Lachance stared at his son for a second before hurling his fork to the ground, fixing Mr. Fisher with a venomous stare. "You..." he started to say, and then turned around and stormed out of the house.
Mr. Fisher came around and put a hand on Gordie's shoulder. "Oh, Gordie."
~~
"Gordie," Jana whispered later that night in the dark. The two were lying in sleeping bags on the living room floor at eleven at night.
"Yes?"
"Don't you ever get scared?" She turned over on her side. "Your dad is so mean, and he does so much bad stuff to you... don't you ever get scared that you won't be able to turn it all around?"
Gordie shrugged. "Sometimes. But a lot of the time I have Chris... or I have you... or someone to keep me from feeling too bad. It isn't the thought of my dad not liking me that scares me. He's a jerk anyway, and I'm okay with him not liking me... it doesn't matter. What scares me is the thought of NO ONE liking me... but when Chris is here, or you're here, or your dad's here, I know that I don't really have to worry about that."
"You don't ever have to worry about that."
"I know... I can't believe your dad stood up for me like that."
"He loves you," Jana replied softly. "Very much." She paused, debating on whether to add what she wanted to add. "I do too," she amended quietly.
"I know," Gordie whispered, and kissed her forehead. "Good night. Try not to dream about English."
"I won't."
End of Chapter 5
"So you're almost out of school," Mr. Fisher said mildly, putting down a book ("Parenting, Vol. 15: What To Do If You Think Your Child May Be Neurotic") and peering at Gordie, who was on the other side of the office, feeding his fish.
Gordie grinned. "Two more weeks."
"What are you going to do?" he asked, taking his glasses off and setting them down on the desk. "You've only got to work for me for another month. Any plans for the rest of the summer?"
"Nope." Gordie shrugged. "Are you guys going camping again this year?"
"Sure are. July 14 to the 21."
"Cool."
"Want to come?" Mr. Fisher asked spontaneously.
Gordie's jaw dropped. "Really?"
"Yeah, would you have fun?"
"Yeah!"
"So you want to come?" He couldn't help but smile at the younger boy's joyful look.
"Hell yes!" Gordie's eyes dropped. "I don't know what my dad will say, though... you know... alone with a girl and her dad..."
"Gordie. Snap out of it. I'll talk to your father for you."
Gordie winced. "He hates you."
"He's jealous of my blatant sex appeal."
Gordie winced. "Jack, he hates you."
Mr. Fisher sighed. "Oh well," he muttered finally. "I'll talk to him tonight."
~~
"Hey, dad," Jana called from her bedroom when she heard the door slam.
"It's me," Gordie called back. Jana popped her head out of the doorway.
"Don't take this the wrong way... what the hell are you doing here?"
"Your dad invited me to go camping with you!"
Her jaw dropped. "No way!"
"Way!"
"YES!" She grinned and hugged him.
"Wow. I didn't know you were so anxious to spend so much time alone with me in a tent." Gordie waggled his eyebrows, but succeeded only in making Jana roll her eyes.
"How do you pick up ANY women?"
"I'm much smoother around them than I am around you. Besides, you've known me for so long that you've grown immune to my charms."
"Right. Hey, what did your mom and dad say about you camping with us?"
"We... haven't... told them... yet..."
"What, are we just going to sneak you into our truck and drive over to Finland?"
Gordie stared. "You can't drive to Finland, you moron."
"You can't?"
"No!"
"Dad did, last time he was on business!"
"He went to MEXICO, Jana."
"Isn't Finland in Mexico?" she asked, confused, as she reached on top of her refrigerator for a banana.
"Um, no. I can't deal with this. I don't have the energy to deal with this. I am sick of your idiocy. Let's go to the Blue Pointe; I'm hungry."
"Oh, I can't," Jana replied casually.
"Why?"
"I'm grounded."
"You're WHAT?" Gordie screeched.
"I'm grounded."
"Why?? If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times! PROSTITUTION IS WRONG!"
Jana gave him a dirty look. "I'm grounded for failing my English exam."
"You FAILED it?" repeated Gordie, who was looking dazed. "But... but I tutored you for days... WEEKS..." He sighed. "You idiot. Did you at least pass the class?"
"Barely."
"So you did pass?" Gordie asked, looking relieved. "I can't take English without you."
"Of course I passed. After giving Mr. Callahan a lap dance."
"WHAT?"
"I'm KIDDING. Maybe."
"Whatever... I no longer care. Anyway... so you can't go out of the house?"
"Nope." Jana folded her arms. "You can't tell me you aced all of your finals."
"Everything but math."
"HA!" She pumped a triumphant fist in the air. "That's the one exam I got an A on! Well, that and Science."
"You realize you're living in a man's world?"
"Shut up."
~~
"I've invited your dad over for dinner, Gordie," Mr. Fisher announced as he hung up his sweater, an hour and fifteen rounds of "Go Fish" later. "Wow, it is WARM out there for May..."
"He's coming HERE?" Gordie asked, dropping his cards in astonishment.
"Yup. He'll be here in an hour."
Gordie scrambled up. "Have you gone temporarily INSANE?" he demanded, waving a hand in front of Mr. Fisher's face. "What the hell were you thinking?"
"I was thinking that since I'm going to ask if you can come camping, he'll have to know the family a little better... I think that'll help our chances."
"We don't have chances! We've never had chances! This is my dad! Mark Lachance!"
"He always seems to walk like he has a corn-cob up his ass," Mr. Fisher observed. "Perhaps that's why he's so ill-tempered."
Gordie half-smiled. "You know I mean this in the best possible way, Jack, but... he will hate you."
"You don't KNOW that. Well, perhaps you do. But it wounds my self esteem when you say things like that, so I'm going to have to ask you not to-"
"Look, if you can't even handle me saying that my dad will hate you, I don't think you're ready to actually MEET him."
"He hates me," Jana volunteered helpfully. Her father looked at her.
"You're sitting in the room with the only person in the world who doesn't hate you," her father explained gently. Then he looked up. "Gordie, is it a burden?"
"I hate you more than you hate me," Jana muttered, burying her face in the couch.
"Oh, I'm sure. Anyway, Gordie, what are your father's favorite foods? Keep in mind that the liver and spleens of young children are slightly hard to find, that mold takes more than an hour to grow, and that bat colons are out of season."
Gordie shrugged. "Potatoes?"
"Wow. Thanks. I'll keep that in mind as I make the dinner... we have pork. Does he like pork?"
"I guess so..."
"How can you not know? He either likes pork or he doesn't! Which one is it, boy? Pork? No pork?"
"I don't-"
"I don't want to hear it! Shut the pork up!"
~~
Another hour found Gordie bedecked in a "Just Another Sexy Bald Guy" apron and checking on corn bread as Mr. Fisher poked the pork with a pen.
"Someone's knocking," Jana announced from her spot in the living room. "And what the hell is this book on neurotic children?"
"Later," her father cried. "Oh God! He's here! Gordie! Get that apron off!"
Gordie yanked the apron over his head in time to hear, "John Fisher? Mark Lachance."
"You can call me Jack, if you like..." Mr. Fisher responded uneasily.
"We'll stick with John, thank you," Mark Lachance responded in a clipped, curt tone. "Where is Gordon?"
"Oh, he's... in the... in the kitchen." Mr. Fisher was already sounding defeated and showing signs of depreciation.
"Thank you. Gordon." Mr. Lachance strolled into the kitchen. "How have you been."
"Oh. Um... fine," Gordie muttered, kicking the apron under the table.
"Where is January?"
"She's... in the living room..."
"Not entertaining her guest?" his father questioned, lifting an eyebrow.
Gordie looked over at Mr. Fisher helplessly, who shrugged in an equally helpless manner. "Well, we were making dinner, and-"
Mark Lachance held up a silencing hand. "Enough, I've heard enough. Get her out here and we'll eat."
Mr. Fisher shot a look at Gordie and bolted into the living room.
"Dad," Gordie murmured softly, "please, try and be nice."
"What? I am nice," he responded curtly.
"Why isn't mom here?"
"Your mother has more important things to do than come to diner with your friends, Gordon."
Gordie bit back a "So you don't?" and nodded.
"This place is falling apart," Mr. Lachance observed, pounding the plaster of the wall he was standing next to. "Those shelves are crooked. That tile is chipped; the paint in the corners is peeling. Between this place and the Chambers', you're turning into genuine trailer trash, Gordon."
"We're here," Mr. Fisher said from the doorway, flustered, as he and Jana filed in, trying to make controlled, reserved movements.
"Hello," greeted Mr. Lachance as everyone pulled out chairs and sat down. They ate in silence for a few minutes before Mr. Lachance broke it again. "Can I ask why I'm here?"
"I wanted to... well, my daughter and I go on a camping trip every year, you see," Mr. Fisher began, putting down his silverware. "And this year... we were wondering if perhaps your son could come."
Mr. Lachance's eyes widened. "Mr. Fisher, I-"
"Jack, or John, whichever you-"
"MR. FISHER," Mr. Lachance interrupted. "Mr. Fisher, I don't think it's right that you and your daughter take unaccompanied trips at all. It's not traditional, I don't like it. The last thing I want is you taking my son along so you can plant more ideas in his head."
"Excuse me?" Mr. Fisher's voice acquired a sort of stiffness.
"You're the one paying for my son's poetry contest entry, are you not?"
"Well, yes, but it's just a-"
"Mr. Fisher." Mark Lachance stood up. "I am only going to say this once, but I am going to make it very clear. I don't like you. I don't think you're a good person. And I don't like your daughter. I will CERTAINLY not have you taking my son off to the wilderness to tramp over God knows what, and, for future reference, you absolutely may NOT have my son "work for you" over at that office of yours without my consent!"
"Sir, I just-"
"Mr. Fisher, if you knew what it was like to be worried about your child, to be-"
Mr. Fisher drew himself up angrily. "Are you insinuating that I don't know how to take care of my children?"
"How can you be sure she's even yours?" Mr. Lachance asked sweetly. "Look at your jet black hair. Your wife, as I recall, had black hair as well... January has red hair. I can't help but wonder what color your milkman's hair was? I seem to remember your wife having... non-traditional values..."
"You leave my wife out of this," Mr. Fisher muttered through gritted teeth.
"Dad," Gordie whispered, and put a hand on his father's arm. "Sit down."
"Gordon, we are leaving," Mr. Lachance said loudly and clearly.
"I don't want to," Gordie replied, and pulled away, but his father had a firm grip on his sleeve.
"What did I just say?"
"Well, dad, I want to-"
"Don't make him leave," Mr. Fisher ordered with disgust in his voice. "As a person you disgust me, but as a parent you horrify me, and it mortifies me that someone like yourself is allowed to rear someone as brilliant as Gordie and subject him to all of your monstrosities."
"Mr. Fisher, I am warning you that-"
"To hell with your warnings. Gordie, would you like to sleep on our couch tonight?"
"You sleep with them and you'll be sleeping with them for the rest of your life," his father growled angrily.
Gordie looked in between the two men and spied Jana, looking down at the table with two tears pouring down her cheeks. "Dad, I'm going to sleep here tonight," he said quietly. "I hope in the morning that you reconsider this, but for now I can't go home with you."
Mr. Lachance stared at his son for a second before hurling his fork to the ground, fixing Mr. Fisher with a venomous stare. "You..." he started to say, and then turned around and stormed out of the house.
Mr. Fisher came around and put a hand on Gordie's shoulder. "Oh, Gordie."
~~
"Gordie," Jana whispered later that night in the dark. The two were lying in sleeping bags on the living room floor at eleven at night.
"Yes?"
"Don't you ever get scared?" She turned over on her side. "Your dad is so mean, and he does so much bad stuff to you... don't you ever get scared that you won't be able to turn it all around?"
Gordie shrugged. "Sometimes. But a lot of the time I have Chris... or I have you... or someone to keep me from feeling too bad. It isn't the thought of my dad not liking me that scares me. He's a jerk anyway, and I'm okay with him not liking me... it doesn't matter. What scares me is the thought of NO ONE liking me... but when Chris is here, or you're here, or your dad's here, I know that I don't really have to worry about that."
"You don't ever have to worry about that."
"I know... I can't believe your dad stood up for me like that."
"He loves you," Jana replied softly. "Very much." She paused, debating on whether to add what she wanted to add. "I do too," she amended quietly.
"I know," Gordie whispered, and kissed her forehead. "Good night. Try not to dream about English."
"I won't."
End of Chapter 5
