Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. They are property of Marc Brown and PBS.
A/N: Sorry about the Oboe thing. I guess I don't know as much about Arthur as I thought I did. Don't be surprised if I make about a million more mistakes before this fic is finished. I don't know why I called him Nigil instead of Nigel. I guess I just don't like "e"s. Writing Nigil with "i"s just looks better to me somehow. Call me strange. I think I put them in fourth grade because that's what grade the Recess kids are in. I think I just got that mixed up. I'll just pretend they're in fourth for my fic.
A/N2: I've concluded, Beautiful Mind, that we're both nuts. I mean, who else would scream Whoo-hoo! just because they put an Arthur category on the net. Oh, that was just me, huh? Wierd thing to get excited about! I feel so immature...ah, who cares! I am!
LEARNING TO BREATHE
by Lina Shay
Chapter Four: Thoughts Turned to Action
Ratburn returned home to the large house. Today, he did not feel like pounding out his sorrows on his work bench or watching old episodes of Spooky-Poo. No, our Mister Ratburn didn't even change out of his suit. Instead, he set himself down at his kitchen table and thought. Lovely woman, that Rubella Kirst. Fragrant, graceful, and just quirky enough to fascinate Ratburn. He suddenly found himself wondering when he would see her again.
Ratburn put a finger to his chin. It just occurred to him that Prunella (and Rubella) lived just a block away. It wouldn't be all that peculiar if he happened to stop by to discuss Prunella's grades or some such.
Before he knew it, his thoughts had turned to actions. Ratburn stood in front of the Kirst household for a long while, just staring at the door. What was he even doing there? He was a teacher and Rubella was the sister of his student. It wasn't exactly illegal, but how would it look? Worse than that, what would Rubella think if he made advances toward her? After all, he was six years older than her. Of course, maybe Rubella could ignore the gaping age difference and the stares. Maybe she fancied older and austere school teachers who made puppets and watched Spooky-Poo in his spare time. Oh, who was he kidding? She would probably find him an archaic rubus, and the thought of being with him would disgust her.
Ratburn let out a sigh and turned away from her house. What was the use? How could someone as enchanting and engaging as Rubella even consider looking twice at an old school teacher. Ratburn lowered his head and started toward the street.
"Hey, Mr. Ratburn!" called that charming voice from behind him.
The sound of Rubella's voice tickled the back of his neck. He was too embarrassed to turn around. What would he say? What if he sputtered and fumbled all over himself? How would that look? No worse than ignoring her. He turned around.
Rubella's curly hair shimmered in the sunlight. The way her skirt flowed and the way she almost seemed to glide as she walked made everything feel as if it were in slow motion. That familiar, pleasant smell wafted across Ratburn's nose as she came nearer. She was radiant! Ratburn would do anything for the Goddess who stood before him.
"Are you looking for Prunella?" Rubella asked as she stopped in front of Ratburn.
"Why, um, yes," Ratburn sputtered. "I came to, uh, ask if she needed the Spring reading list."
"She's probably too busy on Henry Skreeber six to take on much more reading," Rubella told him. "Just out of curiosity, how have you been?"
Ratburn was taken aback by this question. She actually wished to know of his welfare? He didn't know what to say.
"I'm, uh, good," Ratburn insisted, feeling as if his tie was suddenly too tight. Why was it such a hot day?
"No sorrow or anguish?" Rubella asked curiously.
Sorrow? Anguish? Those were a couple of ways to describe it. Ratburn felt as if his guts were going to explode. He wanted to be nearer to her, but how could he without scaring her away?
"No anguish, no sorrow," Ratburn lied, feeling jittery.
"Hmm," Rubella pondered disappointedly. "Usually my predictions are quite accurate. Maybe I was fore-seeing your distant future."
"Perhaps," Ratburn muttered, putting his finger to his chin nervously. "I suppose I must be going. There are, after all, other students who might be interested in the spring reading list."
"Yeah, I have to be going too," Rubella said. "I was supposed to meet my friends at the mall ten minutes ago."
"I wouldn't want to keep you," Ratburn told her.
Rubella turned and walked over to her blue station wagon. She turned back toward him.
"Try handing that list out in your class," Rubella suggested. "It would be easier."
"Yes, indeed," Ratburn called to her. "Good idea."
She got in and started the engine. Ratburn watched her until he saw her look at him in the rear-view mirror. He quickly looked away and pretended to be occupied with observing an imaginary bird in a nearby tree. The car engine reeved up, and the car skidded off. He watched after it sadly.
Yet another stray thought suddenly turned into action, Ratburn found himself hanging around the mall. He was apparently inspecting a water fountain exactly when Rubella and her friends happened to walk by. What a coincidence. Sure! Ratburn watched her pass, laughing with Catharine Frensky and June Glover, a dark brown dog about their age. Ratburn slipped into a nearby toy store so he could observe their window shopping.
"You would look simply fantastic in that, Rubella," Catharine commented, motioning toward a white off-the-shoulder dress.
"Yeah, it's totally you," June added.
Rubella put a finger to her chin as she looked at it.
"Honestly, you should try it on," Catharine insisted.
"All right," Rubella agreed.
The girls all walked into the shop. Ratburn sprinted across and glanced through the window. Rubella held the dress up to herself. Catharine and June kept saying things, but Ratburn couldn't hear them. Rubella disappeared into the dressing room. Catharine was eyeing a black skirt that was much too short for a girl her age. Her eye kept wandering until it fell upon Ratburn. Her expression twisted into one of confusion and suspicion. Ratburn quickly dropped to the floor. It wasn't the smoothest thing he had ever done. Catharine had already seen him. Ducking now wasn't going to help. That was it. It was over. Rubella was sure to think he was some freak stalker. He could still flee but that would only give him time until the kill.
Ratburn wondered if they were coming or what? He peeked up into the window to see a most enchanting sight. Rubella twirled in that beautiful dress. It was cut to her perfectly. Every curve was accented. And it brought out her red hair. Ratburn got the sudden fantasy of Rubella running through a field in that dress. She was running so freely. She was running toward him. She ran into his arms. Ratburn sighed. Then he remembered that Catharine had seen him. But she wasn't looking now. She was circling Rubella with excitement. Hopefully she had forgotten. He would know soon enough. Ratburn decided to go now before anyone else saw him.
**************
That night, Ratburn was inspired. He got into old clothes and burned the midnight oil in his workshop. It was almost 4:00 in the morning before he was finished. He held up the beautiful marionette in the lamplight. She was a poodle madden in a white dress and curly red hair.
A/N: My Ratburn's just a little obsessive, isn't he?
A/N: Sorry about the Oboe thing. I guess I don't know as much about Arthur as I thought I did. Don't be surprised if I make about a million more mistakes before this fic is finished. I don't know why I called him Nigil instead of Nigel. I guess I just don't like "e"s. Writing Nigil with "i"s just looks better to me somehow. Call me strange. I think I put them in fourth grade because that's what grade the Recess kids are in. I think I just got that mixed up. I'll just pretend they're in fourth for my fic.
A/N2: I've concluded, Beautiful Mind, that we're both nuts. I mean, who else would scream Whoo-hoo! just because they put an Arthur category on the net. Oh, that was just me, huh? Wierd thing to get excited about! I feel so immature...ah, who cares! I am!
LEARNING TO BREATHE
by Lina Shay
Chapter Four: Thoughts Turned to Action
Ratburn returned home to the large house. Today, he did not feel like pounding out his sorrows on his work bench or watching old episodes of Spooky-Poo. No, our Mister Ratburn didn't even change out of his suit. Instead, he set himself down at his kitchen table and thought. Lovely woman, that Rubella Kirst. Fragrant, graceful, and just quirky enough to fascinate Ratburn. He suddenly found himself wondering when he would see her again.
Ratburn put a finger to his chin. It just occurred to him that Prunella (and Rubella) lived just a block away. It wouldn't be all that peculiar if he happened to stop by to discuss Prunella's grades or some such.
Before he knew it, his thoughts had turned to actions. Ratburn stood in front of the Kirst household for a long while, just staring at the door. What was he even doing there? He was a teacher and Rubella was the sister of his student. It wasn't exactly illegal, but how would it look? Worse than that, what would Rubella think if he made advances toward her? After all, he was six years older than her. Of course, maybe Rubella could ignore the gaping age difference and the stares. Maybe she fancied older and austere school teachers who made puppets and watched Spooky-Poo in his spare time. Oh, who was he kidding? She would probably find him an archaic rubus, and the thought of being with him would disgust her.
Ratburn let out a sigh and turned away from her house. What was the use? How could someone as enchanting and engaging as Rubella even consider looking twice at an old school teacher. Ratburn lowered his head and started toward the street.
"Hey, Mr. Ratburn!" called that charming voice from behind him.
The sound of Rubella's voice tickled the back of his neck. He was too embarrassed to turn around. What would he say? What if he sputtered and fumbled all over himself? How would that look? No worse than ignoring her. He turned around.
Rubella's curly hair shimmered in the sunlight. The way her skirt flowed and the way she almost seemed to glide as she walked made everything feel as if it were in slow motion. That familiar, pleasant smell wafted across Ratburn's nose as she came nearer. She was radiant! Ratburn would do anything for the Goddess who stood before him.
"Are you looking for Prunella?" Rubella asked as she stopped in front of Ratburn.
"Why, um, yes," Ratburn sputtered. "I came to, uh, ask if she needed the Spring reading list."
"She's probably too busy on Henry Skreeber six to take on much more reading," Rubella told him. "Just out of curiosity, how have you been?"
Ratburn was taken aback by this question. She actually wished to know of his welfare? He didn't know what to say.
"I'm, uh, good," Ratburn insisted, feeling as if his tie was suddenly too tight. Why was it such a hot day?
"No sorrow or anguish?" Rubella asked curiously.
Sorrow? Anguish? Those were a couple of ways to describe it. Ratburn felt as if his guts were going to explode. He wanted to be nearer to her, but how could he without scaring her away?
"No anguish, no sorrow," Ratburn lied, feeling jittery.
"Hmm," Rubella pondered disappointedly. "Usually my predictions are quite accurate. Maybe I was fore-seeing your distant future."
"Perhaps," Ratburn muttered, putting his finger to his chin nervously. "I suppose I must be going. There are, after all, other students who might be interested in the spring reading list."
"Yeah, I have to be going too," Rubella said. "I was supposed to meet my friends at the mall ten minutes ago."
"I wouldn't want to keep you," Ratburn told her.
Rubella turned and walked over to her blue station wagon. She turned back toward him.
"Try handing that list out in your class," Rubella suggested. "It would be easier."
"Yes, indeed," Ratburn called to her. "Good idea."
She got in and started the engine. Ratburn watched her until he saw her look at him in the rear-view mirror. He quickly looked away and pretended to be occupied with observing an imaginary bird in a nearby tree. The car engine reeved up, and the car skidded off. He watched after it sadly.
Yet another stray thought suddenly turned into action, Ratburn found himself hanging around the mall. He was apparently inspecting a water fountain exactly when Rubella and her friends happened to walk by. What a coincidence. Sure! Ratburn watched her pass, laughing with Catharine Frensky and June Glover, a dark brown dog about their age. Ratburn slipped into a nearby toy store so he could observe their window shopping.
"You would look simply fantastic in that, Rubella," Catharine commented, motioning toward a white off-the-shoulder dress.
"Yeah, it's totally you," June added.
Rubella put a finger to her chin as she looked at it.
"Honestly, you should try it on," Catharine insisted.
"All right," Rubella agreed.
The girls all walked into the shop. Ratburn sprinted across and glanced through the window. Rubella held the dress up to herself. Catharine and June kept saying things, but Ratburn couldn't hear them. Rubella disappeared into the dressing room. Catharine was eyeing a black skirt that was much too short for a girl her age. Her eye kept wandering until it fell upon Ratburn. Her expression twisted into one of confusion and suspicion. Ratburn quickly dropped to the floor. It wasn't the smoothest thing he had ever done. Catharine had already seen him. Ducking now wasn't going to help. That was it. It was over. Rubella was sure to think he was some freak stalker. He could still flee but that would only give him time until the kill.
Ratburn wondered if they were coming or what? He peeked up into the window to see a most enchanting sight. Rubella twirled in that beautiful dress. It was cut to her perfectly. Every curve was accented. And it brought out her red hair. Ratburn got the sudden fantasy of Rubella running through a field in that dress. She was running so freely. She was running toward him. She ran into his arms. Ratburn sighed. Then he remembered that Catharine had seen him. But she wasn't looking now. She was circling Rubella with excitement. Hopefully she had forgotten. He would know soon enough. Ratburn decided to go now before anyone else saw him.
**************
That night, Ratburn was inspired. He got into old clothes and burned the midnight oil in his workshop. It was almost 4:00 in the morning before he was finished. He held up the beautiful marionette in the lamplight. She was a poodle madden in a white dress and curly red hair.
A/N: My Ratburn's just a little obsessive, isn't he?