Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. They are property of Marc Brown and PBS.
A/N: Beautiful Mind, I've actually only read one of the Arthur books...in which Franicine wanted to kiss Arthur on Valentine's Day. Anyway, I base my stories on the series and mostly just the episdoes I've seen. I don't get much time to watch cartoons like I use to. I, at one point, was thinking of doing a Henry Skreeber fanfiction. I thought that would be interesting. You're really funny and odd. It makes me wonder who you are.
A/N2: According to PBS.com, Ratburn's first name is Nigel. And according to the episode "Arthur's Baby", Ratburn's first name is Emil. Because this is a fanfiction and that means I can do whatever I like, I have him named Nigil.
LEARNING TO BREATHE
by Lina Shay
Chapter Three: Seeing You Again
"I'm handing back your tests," Ratburn announced to his class. "Most of you did quite well."
This did not ease the looks of fear on his students faces. He handed out the tests one by one, observing the expressions of relief or terror as a student saw his grade. As Ratburn set Prunella's test on her desk, he couldn't help but ask, "Prunella, how old is your sister?"
"Eighteen," Prunella retorted, looking confused. "She graduates this year, why?"
"Just curious. She looked older than that," Ratburn shrugged, returning to his desk.
Prunella continued staring at him, puzzled. Was he too curious? Was Prunella suspicious? He should hoped not. Seeing the flyer on his desk, Ratburn cleared his throat and announced, "We will be having a talent show in two weeks. It is completely voluntary, of course, but I hope you will all like to volunteer your preforming skills. I will be passing a sign-up sheet around."
Ratburn got up from his desk and handed the sign-up sheet to Buster Baxter. Buster quickly signed, promising to do some jokes. How did Ratburn know he would do that? Once the list got around to the other side of the classroom, Ratburn collected it from Fern. He was disappointed at how many people hadn't signed up. But there was enough to make it an interesting affair, and there was still the other fourth grade class.
"The first practice will be tomorrow after school," Ratburn told them.
Buster's hand shot up.
"Yes, Buster," Ratburn said, setting the sheet on his desk.
"Will there be food at the practice?" Buster asked.
"Well," Ratburn mused, "there will be refreshments provided after the actual performance. If you wish to bring snacks to the practices, it will be all right."
"I'll bring ice-cream," Alan Powers said instantly.
"Oh, my dad can make a cake," Arthur announced.
"Cake?" Ratburn exclaimed, his ears perking up at the idea.
The bell rang suddenly and the kids began to get out of their seats.
"Remember your math and history homework for tonight," Ratburn called to them.
As Ratburn wiped down his black board, the door of his classroom opened. For a second he was sure it was that Rubella Kirst. He turned around to see Mr. Haney standing there, smiling at him over his glasses. Ratburn wondered why he was so disappointed. Why would Rubella come back anyway? She had no need to.
"Hello, Nigil," Mr. Haney greeted.
"Hello, sir," Ratburn replied, sighing discontentedly.
"Nigil, I'd like to ask a favor of you," Mr. Haney continued. "The high school is putting on a fund raiser for their football team. It is a quaint little fair, with games and food stands. Things like that. I thought it would be nice if we could contribute."
"In what way, sir?" Ratburn asked.
"I thought it would be nice to have one of your little puppet shows," Mr. Haney said, smiling excitedly. "What do you say?"
"Oh, but Mr. Haney," Ratburn began desperately, "I already have so much to do. It's not that I wouldn't love to. But there's the basketball team and then there's the talent show..."
"Yes, I know you're swamped this year," Mr. Haney sympathized, "but this is for Ellwood High School. I have such fond memories of going there. Don't you?"
"I didn't go to Ellwood High, sir," Ratburn insisted. "But if you feel that strongly about it, I guess I could do Rupunzle or something of that sort."
"Good," Mr. Haney smiled, putting a hand on Ratburn's shoulder. "I can't wait."
Ratburn watched him leave and heaved a sigh. Why did it seem that he had to do so much? Normally, he had more to do and was quite content having no free time. What would he do with free time anyway? Watch Spooky-Poo? Bake cookies? No, it was better that he had so much to do.
****************
Someone was off-key, Ratburn noted as he watched the fourth-grade choir. He knew that voice. Scanning the faces, he realized that the person out of tone was Binky Barns. Couldn't he just stick to the oboe or ballet? Singing was not his niche.
"That's enough," Ratburn groaned, looking at his watch. "You can all take a break, except you, Arthur. I want to hear you piano solo once more."
Arthur ran over to the piano while everyone else scattered off the stage. He started on a sweet-sounding rendition of Greensleeves. Ratburn closed his eyes to just listen. When he did, the image of that Rubella Kirst came to him mind. He could almost feel her hands caressing his like they had that day after school. And for just a minute, he thought he caught the faint smell her lovely fragrance.
The door to the auditorium burst open. Ratburn whirled around to see beautiful Rubella entering, balancing a cake-sized tupperwear against her hip with one hand while running her fingers through her curls with the other.
"Oops, sorry to interrupt," Rubella apologized, feigning to sneak over to the snack table. "Please don't mind me."
Arthur thought for a minute, then had to start over. He had forgotten where he was. Ratburn tried his best to look casual as he walked over to where Rubella stood, pulling the top off her tupperwear.
"Prunella has a fine voice," Ratburn announced, saying the first thing he thought of.
"Yeah, I know," Rubella replied. "I'm so sorry I interrupted that piano thing. I meant to bring this cake before practice, but I only just baked it."
"You cook?" he asked with little tact.
Rubella looked up at Ratburn and gave him a devious smile. Quickly, she dished up a piece of lovely marble cake and handed it to him.
"You tell me," she challenged.
Ratburn cut off a moist piece of the cake and lifted it to him mouth. It was divine. Rubella gave him a satisfied smile as she walked over to where Prunella sat talking to friends. Ratburn wanted to follow, but he was sure that would be too obvious. So he waited near the table as he finished his cake. Arthur completed his solo and ran down to the snack table.
"Sue Ellen," Ratburn called, his mouth still full of cake. "Your saxophone, please."
"Yes, Mr. Ratburn," Sue Ellen said, instantly running to take her place on stage.
Ratburn watched Rubella through the performance. Sue Ellen did well, whether he listened or not. He realized he had not listened when she had finished and expected a critique.
"Quite good," Ratburn insisted.
"Are you sure?" Sue Ellen disputed. "I think I was off on the third chord."
"Well, then," Ratburn began, "work on that."
Sue Ellen stepped down. Ratburn just couldn't understand his fascination with this girl. She was much too young for him. He was much too old for her. It was just infatuation, and he hoped to get over it as soon as possible.
"That's enough for today," Ratburn announced. "The rest of you will practice next week. And I expect you all to practice at home as well. Good night."
The kids all rushed by, taking their dishes on their way out to meet their parents. Prunella ran up to Ratburn, her sister walking slowly behind her.
"Mr. Ratburn," Prunella began. "I was wondering if I could do a singing solo."
"That would be lovely, but we do already have Francine Frensky doing a vocal solo," Ratburn told her.
"Please, Mr. Ratburn," Prunella said, clasping her hands together. "Please. I can do it."
"Yeah," Rubella added in, putting her arm on Prunella's shoulder. "Let her, Mr. Ratburn."
Ratburn stared at Rubella. Her light brown eyes sparkled.
"Sure," he shrugged. "We can always use another solo."
Prunella jumped up and down screaming. "Thank you! Thank you! I have to go home and pick a song!"
Prunella ran out the door. Rubella smiled after her, shaking her head. Ratburn was suddenly very aware that he and Rubella were alone. He shoved his hands in his pockets nervously. Rubella walked over to the snack table and picked up the cake tupperwear. She was leaving. Ratburn wanted to stop her. He had to do something.
"It was a delicious cake," Ratburn insisted.
"Thanks," Rubella responded, turning at the threshold to look at him.
What else could he say? He had to say something! Anything!
"You take care of yourself." How lame was that?
"You too," Rubella said with a wry smile.
She, then, turned and left. Why was he acting like such a teenager?
A/N: I figure there is six years between them. I believe it takes four years of college to become a teacher. If he started college at eighteen, he could be a teacher at twenty-one. I believe that would include his internship. I added two years because I know he's been a teacher for a while. Sound OK? Good. Rubella's probably younger than this, but, so it's not too gross, I'm making her eighteen, not yet out of high school. At least it's legal, you know.
A/N: Beautiful Mind, I've actually only read one of the Arthur books...in which Franicine wanted to kiss Arthur on Valentine's Day. Anyway, I base my stories on the series and mostly just the episdoes I've seen. I don't get much time to watch cartoons like I use to. I, at one point, was thinking of doing a Henry Skreeber fanfiction. I thought that would be interesting. You're really funny and odd. It makes me wonder who you are.
A/N2: According to PBS.com, Ratburn's first name is Nigel. And according to the episode "Arthur's Baby", Ratburn's first name is Emil. Because this is a fanfiction and that means I can do whatever I like, I have him named Nigil.
LEARNING TO BREATHE
by Lina Shay
Chapter Three: Seeing You Again
"I'm handing back your tests," Ratburn announced to his class. "Most of you did quite well."
This did not ease the looks of fear on his students faces. He handed out the tests one by one, observing the expressions of relief or terror as a student saw his grade. As Ratburn set Prunella's test on her desk, he couldn't help but ask, "Prunella, how old is your sister?"
"Eighteen," Prunella retorted, looking confused. "She graduates this year, why?"
"Just curious. She looked older than that," Ratburn shrugged, returning to his desk.
Prunella continued staring at him, puzzled. Was he too curious? Was Prunella suspicious? He should hoped not. Seeing the flyer on his desk, Ratburn cleared his throat and announced, "We will be having a talent show in two weeks. It is completely voluntary, of course, but I hope you will all like to volunteer your preforming skills. I will be passing a sign-up sheet around."
Ratburn got up from his desk and handed the sign-up sheet to Buster Baxter. Buster quickly signed, promising to do some jokes. How did Ratburn know he would do that? Once the list got around to the other side of the classroom, Ratburn collected it from Fern. He was disappointed at how many people hadn't signed up. But there was enough to make it an interesting affair, and there was still the other fourth grade class.
"The first practice will be tomorrow after school," Ratburn told them.
Buster's hand shot up.
"Yes, Buster," Ratburn said, setting the sheet on his desk.
"Will there be food at the practice?" Buster asked.
"Well," Ratburn mused, "there will be refreshments provided after the actual performance. If you wish to bring snacks to the practices, it will be all right."
"I'll bring ice-cream," Alan Powers said instantly.
"Oh, my dad can make a cake," Arthur announced.
"Cake?" Ratburn exclaimed, his ears perking up at the idea.
The bell rang suddenly and the kids began to get out of their seats.
"Remember your math and history homework for tonight," Ratburn called to them.
As Ratburn wiped down his black board, the door of his classroom opened. For a second he was sure it was that Rubella Kirst. He turned around to see Mr. Haney standing there, smiling at him over his glasses. Ratburn wondered why he was so disappointed. Why would Rubella come back anyway? She had no need to.
"Hello, Nigil," Mr. Haney greeted.
"Hello, sir," Ratburn replied, sighing discontentedly.
"Nigil, I'd like to ask a favor of you," Mr. Haney continued. "The high school is putting on a fund raiser for their football team. It is a quaint little fair, with games and food stands. Things like that. I thought it would be nice if we could contribute."
"In what way, sir?" Ratburn asked.
"I thought it would be nice to have one of your little puppet shows," Mr. Haney said, smiling excitedly. "What do you say?"
"Oh, but Mr. Haney," Ratburn began desperately, "I already have so much to do. It's not that I wouldn't love to. But there's the basketball team and then there's the talent show..."
"Yes, I know you're swamped this year," Mr. Haney sympathized, "but this is for Ellwood High School. I have such fond memories of going there. Don't you?"
"I didn't go to Ellwood High, sir," Ratburn insisted. "But if you feel that strongly about it, I guess I could do Rupunzle or something of that sort."
"Good," Mr. Haney smiled, putting a hand on Ratburn's shoulder. "I can't wait."
Ratburn watched him leave and heaved a sigh. Why did it seem that he had to do so much? Normally, he had more to do and was quite content having no free time. What would he do with free time anyway? Watch Spooky-Poo? Bake cookies? No, it was better that he had so much to do.
****************
Someone was off-key, Ratburn noted as he watched the fourth-grade choir. He knew that voice. Scanning the faces, he realized that the person out of tone was Binky Barns. Couldn't he just stick to the oboe or ballet? Singing was not his niche.
"That's enough," Ratburn groaned, looking at his watch. "You can all take a break, except you, Arthur. I want to hear you piano solo once more."
Arthur ran over to the piano while everyone else scattered off the stage. He started on a sweet-sounding rendition of Greensleeves. Ratburn closed his eyes to just listen. When he did, the image of that Rubella Kirst came to him mind. He could almost feel her hands caressing his like they had that day after school. And for just a minute, he thought he caught the faint smell her lovely fragrance.
The door to the auditorium burst open. Ratburn whirled around to see beautiful Rubella entering, balancing a cake-sized tupperwear against her hip with one hand while running her fingers through her curls with the other.
"Oops, sorry to interrupt," Rubella apologized, feigning to sneak over to the snack table. "Please don't mind me."
Arthur thought for a minute, then had to start over. He had forgotten where he was. Ratburn tried his best to look casual as he walked over to where Rubella stood, pulling the top off her tupperwear.
"Prunella has a fine voice," Ratburn announced, saying the first thing he thought of.
"Yeah, I know," Rubella replied. "I'm so sorry I interrupted that piano thing. I meant to bring this cake before practice, but I only just baked it."
"You cook?" he asked with little tact.
Rubella looked up at Ratburn and gave him a devious smile. Quickly, she dished up a piece of lovely marble cake and handed it to him.
"You tell me," she challenged.
Ratburn cut off a moist piece of the cake and lifted it to him mouth. It was divine. Rubella gave him a satisfied smile as she walked over to where Prunella sat talking to friends. Ratburn wanted to follow, but he was sure that would be too obvious. So he waited near the table as he finished his cake. Arthur completed his solo and ran down to the snack table.
"Sue Ellen," Ratburn called, his mouth still full of cake. "Your saxophone, please."
"Yes, Mr. Ratburn," Sue Ellen said, instantly running to take her place on stage.
Ratburn watched Rubella through the performance. Sue Ellen did well, whether he listened or not. He realized he had not listened when she had finished and expected a critique.
"Quite good," Ratburn insisted.
"Are you sure?" Sue Ellen disputed. "I think I was off on the third chord."
"Well, then," Ratburn began, "work on that."
Sue Ellen stepped down. Ratburn just couldn't understand his fascination with this girl. She was much too young for him. He was much too old for her. It was just infatuation, and he hoped to get over it as soon as possible.
"That's enough for today," Ratburn announced. "The rest of you will practice next week. And I expect you all to practice at home as well. Good night."
The kids all rushed by, taking their dishes on their way out to meet their parents. Prunella ran up to Ratburn, her sister walking slowly behind her.
"Mr. Ratburn," Prunella began. "I was wondering if I could do a singing solo."
"That would be lovely, but we do already have Francine Frensky doing a vocal solo," Ratburn told her.
"Please, Mr. Ratburn," Prunella said, clasping her hands together. "Please. I can do it."
"Yeah," Rubella added in, putting her arm on Prunella's shoulder. "Let her, Mr. Ratburn."
Ratburn stared at Rubella. Her light brown eyes sparkled.
"Sure," he shrugged. "We can always use another solo."
Prunella jumped up and down screaming. "Thank you! Thank you! I have to go home and pick a song!"
Prunella ran out the door. Rubella smiled after her, shaking her head. Ratburn was suddenly very aware that he and Rubella were alone. He shoved his hands in his pockets nervously. Rubella walked over to the snack table and picked up the cake tupperwear. She was leaving. Ratburn wanted to stop her. He had to do something.
"It was a delicious cake," Ratburn insisted.
"Thanks," Rubella responded, turning at the threshold to look at him.
What else could he say? He had to say something! Anything!
"You take care of yourself." How lame was that?
"You too," Rubella said with a wry smile.
She, then, turned and left. Why was he acting like such a teenager?
A/N: I figure there is six years between them. I believe it takes four years of college to become a teacher. If he started college at eighteen, he could be a teacher at twenty-one. I believe that would include his internship. I added two years because I know he's been a teacher for a while. Sound OK? Good. Rubella's probably younger than this, but, so it's not too gross, I'm making her eighteen, not yet out of high school. At least it's legal, you know.