Peter
Disclaimer I don't own any of the Mighty Ducks characters. I do own Peter's step-father in this chapter, but that's it.
After all the celebrating was done at the game, Coach Bombay treated us to pizza. I was starved, not having eaten all day. I ate 4 slices, but it was nothing compared to Karp, who ate like 10 and all Karp does is eat.
By the time Jessie and Terry's dad dropped me off at the trailer, it was almost 10:30. The Halls live just a couple of blocks away from us. I knew I was dead meat. I told my step-dad I'd be home by 9 at the latest. He'll kill me for coming home so late, it'll be worse if he's drunk.
I quietly stepped into the house, shut and locked the door and carefully set down my hockey stuff. All of a sudden, the room blazed with light and I felt like I'd just got pelted with the puck. There was my step- dad, Jake, drunk, wide-awake and roaring mean.
"PETER JAMES MARK, I THOUGHT YOU TOLD ME YOU'D BE HOME BY NINE!!!!" he roared at me.
"W-we went out for pizza and then Mr. Hall brought me straight home, I promise!" I stuttered. I prayed I wouldn't get hit.
"PIZZA MY BUTT!!! YOU WERE PROBABLY AT THE DRIVE-IN MAKING OUT WITH THAT MORON CHICK!!!!!" he roared at me. Moron?? Oh, he must mean Connie Moreau. Like I'd make out with her, she's with Guy Germaine.
"JAKE, I SWEAR, NOTHING HAPPENED!!!I TRIED TO CALL, BUT YOU WERENT HERE!!!!" I knew that would stop him. Because I HAD tried to call and he WASN'T here.
"Make sure it NEVER happens again or I'll take you off that little hockey team of yours!" he snarled at me before heading back to the bathroom to puke again. I breathed a sigh of relief. It was the first night in a month that I hadn't gotten a beating. Since my mom died two years ago, he's taken to drinking. He wakes up in the morning, goes to work, then hits the bars, the he comes home around 2 a.m. drunk and puking all over the floor. My schedule couldn't be more different. I wake up, go to school, come home, clean up Jake's vomit from early in the morning, make myself something to eat, then try to get homework done before Mr. Hall comes to pick me up to take me, Jessie and Terry to hockey practice. After practice, I come home, finish whatever homework I have left, make my lunch for tomorrow and go to bed. Then I wake up and do it again all over again. Unless we have a game, then I'm too tired to do anything. Jake never comes to any of my games, he hates hockey. After all, my mother got hit in the head with a hockey puck, which is how she died. After she died, Jake decided to take all his angry out on me because he said if I'd never joined hockey, she wouldn't have died. I had several bruises up and down my legs and a black eye that I told Coach Bombay I got from the first game against the Hawks. About a month after we won the championship game, a knock came at our door early on a Saturday morning. I knew I'd have to get it from hearing the sounds of Jake vomiting coming from the bathroom. A young woman dressed in a powder blue business suit stood at the door with a briefcase. "Is this 1221 Wells Drive?" she asked me. "Yes, why?" I asked. Jake had taught me to shoo away the salespeople and the Jehovah's Witnesses. Jake was an atheist. "I'm April Parker from Children's Services. I received a call saying that this home was unfit for the child that lived here" the CHILD?? Was she nuts?? I'm no kid; I can take care of myself. "No, that's not true. It's perfectly fit. Thank you, goodbye" I started to shut the door, but she pushed it open.
"Do you mind if I take a look around??" she asked, coming into our closet-sized living room. I sighed and nodded. Before she started walking, she eyed the large bruises on my arms and legs that Jake gave me for waking up late and not cleaning his "Puke Pan" early enough. "Young man, where did you get those bruises?" she asked. "Hockey. We just had a game against our toughest rival, the Hawks" I lied through my teeth, hockey season had been over for a month. She walked from room to room, taking a few notes on a pad of paper. Then there was the bathroom and I knew there would be a whole lot of notes going on that pad of paper about a drunken guy puking in the bathroom with an eleven-year-old standing in a box-sized kitchen eating a stale Pop-Tart and drinking sour orange juice. "Excuse me, Mr. Mark? Do you have a job?" she asked Jake. "Yes, I do" he growled at her between vomits. "I'm senior vice president of Harte, Mudge and Whitman Law Firm," That was the biggest lie I'd ever heard. Jake was a janitor at the local shoe factory where he made $3.25 an hour. I guess she knew that was a lie and that Jake was an unfit parent, because the next thing I knew, April was telling me to pack a bag with some clothes, personal items, but no valuables. So I did. She put me in the back of her car and then the policeman that was in the driveway put Jake into the back of his car and took him away.
I got taken to a foster home where I lived for 6 months before I got sent to another one. I was in and out of foster homes until I was 18. Since I was always in and out of homes, I couldn't join another hockey team even though I wanted to. I found out that Charlie, Guy, Connie, Banks, Jessie, Goldberg and Averman joined Team USA and went to the Junior Goodwill Games, won the gold medal and then got a scholarship to some preppy school called Eden Hall. I never forgot that I was a duck and even quacked at principals when I got yelled at at some schools.....
Disclaimer I don't own any of the Mighty Ducks characters. I do own Peter's step-father in this chapter, but that's it.
After all the celebrating was done at the game, Coach Bombay treated us to pizza. I was starved, not having eaten all day. I ate 4 slices, but it was nothing compared to Karp, who ate like 10 and all Karp does is eat.
By the time Jessie and Terry's dad dropped me off at the trailer, it was almost 10:30. The Halls live just a couple of blocks away from us. I knew I was dead meat. I told my step-dad I'd be home by 9 at the latest. He'll kill me for coming home so late, it'll be worse if he's drunk.
I quietly stepped into the house, shut and locked the door and carefully set down my hockey stuff. All of a sudden, the room blazed with light and I felt like I'd just got pelted with the puck. There was my step- dad, Jake, drunk, wide-awake and roaring mean.
"PETER JAMES MARK, I THOUGHT YOU TOLD ME YOU'D BE HOME BY NINE!!!!" he roared at me.
"W-we went out for pizza and then Mr. Hall brought me straight home, I promise!" I stuttered. I prayed I wouldn't get hit.
"PIZZA MY BUTT!!! YOU WERE PROBABLY AT THE DRIVE-IN MAKING OUT WITH THAT MORON CHICK!!!!!" he roared at me. Moron?? Oh, he must mean Connie Moreau. Like I'd make out with her, she's with Guy Germaine.
"JAKE, I SWEAR, NOTHING HAPPENED!!!I TRIED TO CALL, BUT YOU WERENT HERE!!!!" I knew that would stop him. Because I HAD tried to call and he WASN'T here.
"Make sure it NEVER happens again or I'll take you off that little hockey team of yours!" he snarled at me before heading back to the bathroom to puke again. I breathed a sigh of relief. It was the first night in a month that I hadn't gotten a beating. Since my mom died two years ago, he's taken to drinking. He wakes up in the morning, goes to work, then hits the bars, the he comes home around 2 a.m. drunk and puking all over the floor. My schedule couldn't be more different. I wake up, go to school, come home, clean up Jake's vomit from early in the morning, make myself something to eat, then try to get homework done before Mr. Hall comes to pick me up to take me, Jessie and Terry to hockey practice. After practice, I come home, finish whatever homework I have left, make my lunch for tomorrow and go to bed. Then I wake up and do it again all over again. Unless we have a game, then I'm too tired to do anything. Jake never comes to any of my games, he hates hockey. After all, my mother got hit in the head with a hockey puck, which is how she died. After she died, Jake decided to take all his angry out on me because he said if I'd never joined hockey, she wouldn't have died. I had several bruises up and down my legs and a black eye that I told Coach Bombay I got from the first game against the Hawks. About a month after we won the championship game, a knock came at our door early on a Saturday morning. I knew I'd have to get it from hearing the sounds of Jake vomiting coming from the bathroom. A young woman dressed in a powder blue business suit stood at the door with a briefcase. "Is this 1221 Wells Drive?" she asked me. "Yes, why?" I asked. Jake had taught me to shoo away the salespeople and the Jehovah's Witnesses. Jake was an atheist. "I'm April Parker from Children's Services. I received a call saying that this home was unfit for the child that lived here" the CHILD?? Was she nuts?? I'm no kid; I can take care of myself. "No, that's not true. It's perfectly fit. Thank you, goodbye" I started to shut the door, but she pushed it open.
"Do you mind if I take a look around??" she asked, coming into our closet-sized living room. I sighed and nodded. Before she started walking, she eyed the large bruises on my arms and legs that Jake gave me for waking up late and not cleaning his "Puke Pan" early enough. "Young man, where did you get those bruises?" she asked. "Hockey. We just had a game against our toughest rival, the Hawks" I lied through my teeth, hockey season had been over for a month. She walked from room to room, taking a few notes on a pad of paper. Then there was the bathroom and I knew there would be a whole lot of notes going on that pad of paper about a drunken guy puking in the bathroom with an eleven-year-old standing in a box-sized kitchen eating a stale Pop-Tart and drinking sour orange juice. "Excuse me, Mr. Mark? Do you have a job?" she asked Jake. "Yes, I do" he growled at her between vomits. "I'm senior vice president of Harte, Mudge and Whitman Law Firm," That was the biggest lie I'd ever heard. Jake was a janitor at the local shoe factory where he made $3.25 an hour. I guess she knew that was a lie and that Jake was an unfit parent, because the next thing I knew, April was telling me to pack a bag with some clothes, personal items, but no valuables. So I did. She put me in the back of her car and then the policeman that was in the driveway put Jake into the back of his car and took him away.
I got taken to a foster home where I lived for 6 months before I got sent to another one. I was in and out of foster homes until I was 18. Since I was always in and out of homes, I couldn't join another hockey team even though I wanted to. I found out that Charlie, Guy, Connie, Banks, Jessie, Goldberg and Averman joined Team USA and went to the Junior Goodwill Games, won the gold medal and then got a scholarship to some preppy school called Eden Hall. I never forgot that I was a duck and even quacked at principals when I got yelled at at some schools.....