Defending Bjork
Chapter 7: Conspiracy Theories
A/N: Well, I said this chapter might arrive sooner than usual, and, unfortunately, it didn't. I was suffering from a bout of writer's block like nothin' else. I never thought I'd break through, but, at last, I did. As you'll quickly discover, actual script moments are included again, but things are slowly changing, little by little. Hopefully, you all will find this chapter to your liking, and, subsequently, leave me a review. Heck, even if you have not-so-great things to say, I guess I'll take those too. But above all else, ENJOY! Oh, and a little warning… if you don't want to know the endings to some of literature's classics, you might not want to read this. But, you know, who doesn't know the endings already, really? Thank you to AvidTVfan, kimlockt, and my sister for being so dang cool. Now, on with the story… ~Becka
"Can you believe the crowd out there?" Luke asked as he returned from wiping down a table.
Jess sighed in annoyance and reluctantly looked up from his book. He glanced over his shoulder at the mostly empty tables and then turned back to his uncle. "Are you losing it? There's barely anyone in here."
"Not in here. Out there," Luke answered, gesturing towards the window through which a group of people could be seen gathering around the gazebo.
"This town's crazy. Haven't you figured that out yet?" Jess retorted, feigning disinterest. He glanced at his watch quickly, then returned his attention to his book.
Luke chuckled in concession and moved his eyes to the window again. As the crowd grew even bigger, he shook his head and turned around, unconsciously leaning his back against the counter in a pose eerily similar to Jess's. He glanced at his nephew. "The lunch crowd should be coming soon."
"I can barely contain my excitement," Jess said, emotionless, before turning around and leaning his elbows on the counter, his book still open between his hands. He pretended to read as he stole glances out the window in an attempt to gauge when the auction was going to start. He saw Taylor begin his ritual, pre-speech microphone tapping, and he knew time was running out.
Blessedly, Luke had given up on trying to make conversation and was now brewing a fresh pot of coffee. Jess closed his book and shoved it into his back pocket. He watched Luke disdainfully for a second and then muttered something inaudible.
"What's that?" Luke asked, turning around.
"Nothing," Jess lied. After a pause, he continued, however, "Have you ever considered changing your name to Kathie Lee?"
"What?"
"It's just you really seem to have the inhumane child labor thing down."
"This again?" Luke moaned.
"You said I could have today off."
"Caesar was late, it was busy, and you were here," Luke explained.
"Caesar's here now, and the place is deserted."
"And the lunch crowd's coming any minute."
"They're all buying picnic baskets."
"Not if they're sane."
"You actually think there's more than a handful of sane people left?"
"Probably not," Luke conceded. "But you're still staying."
"Whatever," Jess replied bitterly, retrieving his book from his pocket and opening it to where he'd left off.
Sighing, Luke went in back. When he re-emerged a few minutes later, Jess was waiting on a customer. Luke watched him, surprised at Jess's attempts to be marginally polite. Truth was, Jess hadn't been getting into quite as much trouble lately… or maybe he was just covering his tracks better. Either way, the Jess he'd met a few months ago wouldn't have cared if he'd told him to stay or not.
Nodding, Jess scribbled something on the pad of paper and headed towards the counter to pass the order on to Caesar. Luke stopped him and took the pad of paper out of his hand.
"Fine," he said simply.
"Fine what?" Jess asked, confused.
"Caesar and I can handle the rush."
Without another word, Jess walked to the door, grabbed his jacket, and left before Luke could change his mind.
Exiting the diner, Jess walked quickly to the town square. A few baskets had been auctioned off during the time he'd been stuck at Luke's, but he was pretty sure that Rory's wasn't among them. He hung back a ways from the crowd and watched as Lane's basket went for a paltry five dollars. He almost felt bad for her until he saw the gleeful expression on her face. Apparently he - and the rest of the town - were missing something. He didn't have time to consider it though because, next thing he knew, Taylor was holding Rory's basket in the air. He recognized it from when she'd brought it into the diner a few days before.
"Now this next one may not look like much," Taylor admitted. "But remember, people – good things come in small packages."
Jess smirked at that comment and glanced at Dean, who was looking at the basket with a sickeningly confident expression on his face.
"Let's start the bidding at three dollars," Taylor stated.
Immediately, Dean chimed in, upping the ante. "Five dollars," he said, looking proudly in Rory's direction.
"Now that's the kind of bidding we want to hear today," Taylor said happily. "Five dollars, do I hear ten dollars?"
"Ten dollars," Jess offered. He could feel Rory glance back at him as soon as he said it, but he kept his eyes trained on Dean. Irritated, Dean looked back at Jess.
"Okay, I have ten dollars. Do I have fifteen?"
Before Dean even had time to react to what was going on, Jess bid twenty dollars.
"Twenty dollars, do I hear twenty-five?" Taylor asked.
"Thirty," Dean said tersely, regaining his composure.
"Okay, see, you boys don't seem to understand the way this thing works," Taylor began.
Jess and Dean ignored him.
"Forty dollars," Jess called, increasingly amused by how agitated Dean was becoming.
"Fifty dollars," Dean immediately countered.
Taylor looked on in amazement. "Excuse me, have either of you noticed how tiny this thing is?"
"Seventy-five," Jess directed towards Taylor, even as he looked at Dean out of the corners of his eyes.
"Now we're not talking cents, gentlemen," Taylor explained. "We're talking dollars, remember."
Hesitating, Dean began to fidget. He definitely had not planned on having competition for Rory's basket, and he knew he couldn't afford to bid any higher. "Eighty," he said with fake conviction.
"Eighty?" Taylor repeated. "Eighty dollars?"
"Ninety," Jess bid confidently.
"Ninety dollars, is that correct?" Taylor asked. "Okay, we've got ninety going once, ninety dollars going twice…"
Though visibly annoyed, Dean remained silent. Meanwhile, Jess smirked and shook his head in amusement.
Taylor paused, then striking his gavel, he declared, "Sold to the nice young hoodlum in the back for ninety dollars."
Pulling the money from his pocket, Jess stepped forward to retrieve Rory's basket. As he returned to his spot amidst the crowd, Dean's angry gaze followed his every step.
Holding the basket at his side, Jess watched as Rory approached Dean and followed him away from the crowd to talk. He couldn't hear what was being said, but it was obvious from Dean's angry gestures that the conversation was not going particularly well. More importantly, Rory seemed unable to calm her boyfriend down. Jess knew he should probably just leave and let them deal with things, but he didn't trust Dean, and he certainly wasn't about to give up. So instead he walked over to them.
"I gotta tell you," Jess said jovially to the couple, "of all the nutty barn-raising shindigs this town can cook up, this one wasn't half bad."
"Glad you enjoyed it," Dean sarcastically replied.
"Yes, I did," Jess said, dismissing Dean and directing his attention to Rory. "So shall we?"
"Shall we what?" Dean answered.
"Shall we go?" Jess retorted.
"Go where?"
"Go eat."
"Excuse me?" Dean asked in disbelief.
"The person who buys the basket wins the company of the person who makes the basket for lunch," Jess explained. "Basket," he continued, shaking the basket in the air. "Basket maker," he said, pointing at Rory. "Guy who didn't bring enough money," he finished, pointing at Dean.
"You think this is funny," Dean angrily stated.
"Well," Jess quipped. "It's no Lenny Bruce routine, but it has its moments."
"Bye, Jess," Dean dismissed.
"Where you going?" Jess asked innocently.
"You're the one who's going."
"Oh, as soon as Rory is ready," Jess said, glancing at Rory, who was visibly uncomfortable with the exchange taking place in front of her.
"She's not going with you."
"Really?" Jess turned his full attention to Rory. "Is that true?"
"Yes, it's true," Dean answered.
Jess looked at Dean. "Excuse me, Edgar Bergen; I think I'd like Charlie McCarthy to answer now."
"Shut up," Dean spat weakly.
"Dean," Rory began cautiously.
"What?"
"Well…" Rory hedged.
"Oh, come on!" Dean complained.
"It's tradition," Rory explained, the argument sounding just as weak when vocalized as it had in her head.
"I don't believe this."
"It is. It's tradition. You don't understand because you haven't lived here long, but there are some traditions that just need to be upheld," Rory rambled, grasping at straws. "Like around Christmas, when everyone in Stars Hollow puts an ornament on the town Christmas tree, and Sookie makes hot cider and gingerbread cookies for everyone. Or at Easter when Taylor dresses up like a giant Easter bunny and hands out candy to everyone. Oh," she said excitedly, trying to sell her point. "Or on National Bubble Wrap Appreciation Day when we all…"
"Rory," Dean interrupted, growing impatient. "This is different; nobody's gonna care if you don't go through with this."
"I will," Rory spontaneously professed, surprising even herself. Her mind was struggling to disentangle the myriad of unexpected, veiled reasons behind her adamancy, but she pushed them away and focused on the task at hand. "I happen to take Stars Hollow traditions very seriously," she declared.
"I don't want you to go."
"Don't make this into a big thing, Dean."
"Then don't go," Dean pleaded.
"Oh geez, man," Jess finally interrupted. "She's not shipping off to 'Nam."
"You so need to shut up now, " Dean threatened.
"It's just a picnic; it's lunch," Rory said, trying to be logical. "We'll sit, we'll eat, it's over."
"No."
"What do you think is gonna happen?" Rory asked.
Jess nodded. "Yeah, I think I'd like to hear this one also,"
"I don't want you to go," Dean said again, ignoring the question.
"Dean!" Rory said, exasperated.
"Fine, forget it, go!" he said angrily before turning and walking away.
Rory followed her boyfriend, and this time, Jess remained behind. He was close enough to hear their conversation, however.
"Please don't walk away like that," Rory said, walking around Dean until they were face to face.
"Sorry," Dean sarcastically apologized. "I'd do a silly walk, but I'm not feeling very John Cleese right now."
"Dean, you know this isn't my fault. I didn't ask him to bid on the basket; I didn't tell him to do it. I would never do anything to hurt you," she promised.
"Yeah?" Dean asked skeptically. "Well, you're doing it right now."
When he walked away this time, Rory didn't follow. She just stared after him as he left. She kept looking at the space where he'd been, even after he was no longer in sight.
After a few moments, Jess approached her. "You know, there's nothing there."
"Yes, I know," Rory sadly replied.
"You going after him?"
"Not right now."
"Ok," Jess said simply, dropping the subject. "Shall we?"
Rory glanced at him, and he held up the basket.
"Fine," Rory sighed. "Come on."
"Where do you wanna eat?" Jess asked after they'd walked quite a distance from the town square in silence.
Rory shrugged her shoulders and said sharply, "Don't care."
"Okay," Jess calmly answered before turning direction and heading towards the bridge.
"Where are you going?"
"Thought you didn't care," Jess pointed out, walking backwards across the bridge as he talked to her.
"I'm not jumping in the lake."
"No underwater dining," Jess remarked. "Got it." Choosing a spot towards the middle of the bridge, he stopped and looked at her.
"Now what?" Rory asked.
"Now we sit," Jess replied as he set the picnic basket on the bridge and sat down.
"Here?"
"Yup," Jess said simply.
"On the bridge?" Rory continued. "That's where we're gonna eat?"
"Yup."
"Okay," Rory conceded, taking a seat beside him, her posture instinctively mimicking his.
Jess looked out over the water. "I like this place," he said casually.
"Wow," Rory caustically exclaimed. "A place in Stars Hollow you actually like. I'm stunned."
He smiled. "It's got some good memories. You see right over there?" he asked, pointing to another spot on the bridge.
"Yup."
"That's where Luke pushed me in."
"Huh," Rory remarked, amused.
"Yeah."
"It's nice."
"It is," Jess agreed.
"So why'd you do it?" Rory asked abruptly and without warning.
"Do what?"
"Outbid Dean like that."
Jess gazed out over the water and thought about her question for a moment. He briefly considered telling her the truth… that he'd done it because it was a rare chance to spend time with her without breaking any precious and sacred Stars Hollow rules. That, ever since that night before the Snowperson Contest, he'd been waiting for an opportunity just like this one. That Dean wasn't good enough for her and never would be. That maybe he wasn't good enough for her either. That ever since he'd left New York, spending time with her was the only thing that made even the smallest bit of sense.
When it came down to it though, honesty had never really been his forte.
"I think the real question," he said at last, challenging her eyes with his. "Is why'd you do it?"
"What are you talking about?" Rory asked, confused. "You outbid Dean. I had nothing to do with it."
"You're here, aren't you?" Jess pointed out. "You didn't have to come."
Angry and frustrated, Rory turned her eyes away and looked out over the water. "That isn't fair. It's a tradition."
"So you've said."
"I don't have to explain myself to you."
"You're right," Jess acknowledged. "You don't."
His casual agreement only served to make her more defensive. "If Kirk had outbid Dean on the basket, I would be eating lunch with him. If Bootsie had done it, I'd be eating lunch with him. It's a tradition, and Dean should've understood that," she said fiercely. "But just because it was you, he thinks…" she trailed off.
"What?" Jess asked, curious to know what she was going to say.
"Nothing. It doesn't matter."
"Are you sorry you came?"
"Are you sorry you paid $90 for a basket?" she volleyed back.
"Are you kidding? Did you see the look on Dean's face? I got my money's worth."
"So you did this to bug Dean," Rory accused, finding herself strangely disappointed by the idea.
"You have to admit, it was funny."
"It wasn't funny," Rory said seriously. "I don't want to be in a fight with Dean."
"Well, I'm sorry about that," Jess apologized.
Rory shrugged her shoulders.
"You wanna push me in the lake?" Jess offered. "It's cathartic, I hear."
The idea didn't seem like such a bad one, and the image of Jess flailing through the air and into the water caused Rory to, at last, crack a smile. "Maybe in a little."
"Just warn me first."
"Yeah, right," Rory scoffed. "How would that be fun?"
"You have serious Damien issues, you know that?"
"You'd better watch your back, Mr. Mariano," she teased, smiling impishly. "You've created a monster."
"Lorelai raised you, and I'm the one responsible for your moral downfall?"
"My mother didn't initiate me into a life of crime."
"Oh please, she probably had you conning people out of coffee before you could crawl."
"Conning is a skill. Destruction of property is a crime," Rory distinguished.
"Please tell me that isn't your best defense."
"Okay, so it takes a while to develop a criminal mind, but I'm workin' on it."
Jess smirked. "Well, if you need any pointers, I'd be happy to help."
"I'll let you know," Rory whispered conspiratorially, leaning so closely to Jess that a windblown strand of her hair grazed his cheek. Jess tried to process the sensation, but, as quickly as she'd drawn near, she pulled away, completely innocent to the havoc she'd just wreaked. He watched as she swung her legs playfully back and forth over the water and, in disbelief, wondered if he'd imagined it all.
"So," he said, drawing her attention. "Should we open this?"
"Go ahead," Rory consented.
Jess immediately lifted the lid off the basket and spun it once before setting it on the bridge. He peered in and sifted through its contents.
"Wow! Not one thing in here that I would remotely consider eating."
"Well, I didn't make it for you," Rory saucily reminded him. "I made it for Dean."
"Or for Kirk," Jess added, smirking at her before returning his attention to the basket. "Dean seriously would've eaten this?" he asked, holding up a container full of an unidentifiable, semi-food-like substance.
"Yes, he would have," Rory stated, masterfully suppressing a wicked smile.
Challenged, Jess stuck the plastic fork into the Tupperware, lifted it to his mouth, and took a big bite. His face immediately contorted into a look of revulsion. "Dean is an idiot," he said around the mouthful of food.
"Dean never would've fallen for that," Rory said, looking very smug.
"Ah, ha-ha," Jess fake-laughed. "I think I underestimated the extent of your depravity."
"You should never underestimate a Gilmore."
"My mistake," he admitted, closing the container and shoving it, along with the rest of the food, back into the basket. "Are you sure you like Dean? You didn't even pack a cookie."
"Dean knew to eat ahead of time," Rory teased.
"Oh, sure," Jess complained. "I did pay $90 for this, you know."
"Not a very smart investment," Rory taunted, shaking her head sympathetically.
"Well, since you aren't offering any real food," Jess said. "How about some food for thought?"
"Hmm… I'm afraid that wasn't part of the deal."
"C'mon, I deserve something."
"True, but I already told you I'd push you in later," she said with a sugary smile.
"Don't you feel just a little guilty," he asked.
"Not even a little."
"Huh," he said, expertly infusing that one trivial word with both disappointment and disregard.
Rory peered at him out of the corner of her eye and smiled. "Okay," she allowed. "I guess we can talk."
Jess turned his head to look at her, sensing a catch.
"But I'll ask the questions," she finished.
"If I wanted an interrogation, I could get one from Luke for free."
"That's the deal. Take it or leave it."
"Fine," Jess reluctantly agreed. "But I reserve the right not to answer, and you have to answer every question too."
Rory hesitated for a moment, then accepted the conditions with a simple "Okay."
"Okay," Jess repeated with a nod. He turned to sit cross-legged on the bridge, and Rory followed his lead and changed her position, so they now sat face-to-face. "Then, go ahead, O'Brien."
Rory shot him a puzzled look. Like many times before, she quickly scanned through their previous conversation in her head and tried to figure out the reference. Jess chuckled at the way her face scrunched up when she was deep in thought. He waited patiently for her to figure it out.
After a moment, her face lit up in a smile. "1984!" she said triumphantly. She didn't have to wait for his confirmation; she knew she was right. So far, he'd never stumped her.
"Okay, first question, Mr. Mariano," she said in an official tone, sitting up straight and authoritatively, as any expert interrogator would. "What's the first book you remember?"
He almost laughed; that wasn't exactly what he'd been expecting. Usually, given the opportunity for open inquisition, people went straight to the personal questions. Relaxing, he suddenly felt safe in this game… that is, until he started contemplating his answer.
Rory watched him, waiting expectantly for his response; so when his expression slightly changed from amusement to sadness, she noticed right away. Thirty seconds or so went by. She was just about to give him an out when he spoke.
"Winnie-the-Pooh," he said, raising his eyes to meet hers.
"Seriously?" she asked, surprised.
"You were expecting 'A Clockwork Orange'?" he said, smirking.
"No, I just never would've guessed 'Winnie-the-Pooh'."
"My mom used to read it to me," he replied honestly, the look in his eyes contradicting the nonchalant tone of voice he'd adopted. "It was her favorite book when she was little," Jess explained.
"What was your favorite part?" Rory asked, hoping for a little insight into the child that Jess had been and an explanation for the inconsistent behavior she was witnessing.
"I don't remember," Jess lied. "It was a long time ago."
"Did your mom read to you a lot?"
Jess shrugged. "I guess. After a while, she didn't have time."
"Why?"
"My dad left," he replied simply and with little emotion.
Rory nodded, not sure what to say - not sure if anything should be said.
"What about you?" Jess asked, redirecting the question to her. "What's the first book you remember?"
Rory smiled at the memory. "Caps for Sale."
"With the monkeys?"
"That's the one."
"I should've guessed," Jess said.
"My mom has always had a thing for monkeys, so when Mia bought me some books for Christmas one year, Mom immediately gravitated towards that one. We read it every night for weeks. Mom would read most of it, but I would always do the 'Tsz, tsz, tsz' part."
"I can almost picture you as a kid, doing that," Jess said, appraising her. "I bet you were just adorable," he teased, which caused Rory to break out in a light pink blush.
"Okay, I answered the question. It's your turn."
"Great," he mumbled under his breath, wondering why he'd ever agreed to this.
"How did you go from the little, happy Jess who read 'Winnie-the-Pooh' to the jaded individual who terrorizes Stars Hollow today?"
"I can't answer that," he stated.
"Why not?"
"It'd take too long, and, trust me, you really don't want to know."
"Maybe I do," Rory gently argued.
"You don't."
"So give me the short and easy version."
"Rory…" Jess warned, but upon seeing the hopeful and compassionate look in her eyes, he stopped. He had to give her something.
"Ok, I am how I am because our society, specifically our school system, conspires against teenagers."
"Interesting," Rory said, nodding. It wasn't exactly what she hoped for, but he had her intrigued. "Continue."
"You know how they always accuse us of being angry and depressed? The 'Who Cares' generation?"
Rory nodded.
"Well, they do that to us. I have a whole theory."
"Go on."
"Okay, let me ask you a question," Jess said. "Think about the books you had to read for English class in junior high and high school. What do they all have in common?"
"They're well-written, innovative, thought-provoking novels that changed the course of literary history?"
"That's what they want you to think," Jess continued. "But really, they're all designed to depress the hell out of us."
"Are you serious?"
"Name something you had to read."
"Ok," Rory said, thinking. "Let's go back to O'Brien. 1984."
"A guy fights against a brainwashing government that denies any semblance of individualism, and, in the end, he loses. He becomes a mindless drone. He stands up for love and freedom of thought, and he ends up worshipping Big Brother just like everyone else. Name another."
"Romeo and Juliet," Rory said quickly.
"Boy falls in love with girl. Girl falls in love with boy. But they can't be together. They defy the odds, get married, and their dueling families tear them apart, eventually resulting in their untimely deaths. Pretty much every Shakespeare play they make you read is a tragedy, despite the fact that he wrote comedies too. Got another?"
"The Chocolate War," Rory offered.
"A boy refuses to sell chocolate bars for the annual school chocolate sale. He stands up to the system, and he ends up being beaten within an inch of his life. In the end, he tells another student that there's no point fighting the system because you'll never succeed."
"The Pearl," Rory says, without any prompting.
"Kino, a pearl diver, finds the Pearl of the World, a pearl so valuable that he can use it to have his son treated for a deadly scorpion bite, but, instead it brings him only pain and suffering. In the end, the pearl - his only means of providing for his family – causes more trouble than he could have imagined, resulting in the loss of his home and the death of his son. It destroys his life. And that's just a few," Jess pointed out. "Look at the rest: Lord of the Flies, Grapes of Wrath, The Scarlet Letter… they're all depressing."
"I guess you're right," Rory agreed, strangely impressed.
"I'm telling you; the things they force us to read in school are designed to destroy any optimism or faith in humanity that we might still naively possess. Maybe it's not that teenagers choose to be angry; maybe it's that we're forced to be because all of our reasons for happiness and hopes for the future are taken away before we even turn eighteen."
"You have to admit that all of the books convey a profound message though," Rory argued.
"I'm not disagreeing with that."
"And maybe the books aren't intended to depress us but to inspire us to continue to try to change the world and embrace and respect the freedoms that the characters may have lacked but which we actually possess."
"Even if it results in our inevitable brainwashing and death."
"Even then," Rory agreed, smiling. "How long did it take you to come up with all of this?"
"About ten minutes before a class. I didn't get around to writing a paper, and I needed an excuse."
Rory laughed. "Did it work?"
"Not exactly."
"It was a nice try though," Rory commended.
"So, Rory Gilmore," Jess said, relieved that he had successfully dodged a truthful answer to her original question. "Time for your question. Amidst all of this society-induced pessimism, how exactly have you managed to stay such an idealist?"
Considering the question, Rory looked across the small space at Jess and thought about the fact that, two years ago, they'd never even met. The idea that there was a time before Jess seemed ludicrous to her.
Contemplative, she answered. "Because, sometimes, when you least expect it, something amazing can come along. If I didn't believe it could happen, I might not recognize it when it did. So when I have to choose between doubt and hope, I guess I'll always choose hope. Just in case."
"You've lived in this fairy tale town too long," Jess skeptically remarked.
"Maybe you just haven't lived here long enough," Rory countered.
