AUTHOR: Jason P. Bodine
E-MAIL:
TITLE: Beneath the Shattered Starlight
CHAPTER: "When Skip Met Mandy"
SYNOPSIS: 17 years before "The First Time," Amanda West meets a mysterious stranger at her senior prom.
ARCHIVE: Yes! Definitely! Just let me know where it goes!
COMMENTS: This is my first fanfic. Be gentle! LOL! :)
DISCLAIMER: Scarecrow and Mrs. King and it's characters don't belong to me. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Beneath the Shattered Starlight"
A Scarecrow and Mrs. King story
By Jason P. Bodine
CHAPTER 1: WHEN SKIP MET MANDY
"You look beautiful, darling! Pierre is absolutely going to flip when he sees you in that dress!" Dotty West was absolutely beaming and how beautiful her daughter looked in her blue chiffon prom dress.
"You don't think it's too tight, Mother?" Amanda said as she nervously adjusted her spaghetti straps until she was satisfied with her reflection in the full-length mirror. "I just don't know if I picked the right one."
"Oh, darling! Don't worry! You look fabulous. Pierre is just going to love you in that gown!"
"Thank you, Mother."
"Of course, dear." Dotty gave her daughter a quick peck on the cheek then ran downstairs to wait for Pierre's car to arrive. Amanda sighed and tugged her straps again. Her mother was right. She was nervous.
Very nervous! Pierre Gaston, the French exchange student she had had her eye on all year long, had finally asked her out to the prom! He would be here any minute now! "Ugh!" she sighed with frustration, "I should have gone with the strapless red one with the sequins."
The doorbell rang. Too late to worry about that now!
"I'll get it!" Jack West's baritone voice said.
"Well, hello young man!"
"Hello, Mr. West," a male voice with a heavy French accent replied. "Is Amanda ready yet?"
"Pierre! Come in, come in!" Dotty West's voice chimed in. "Amanda will be down in a few minutes. Why don't you sit down and make yourself comfortable while you wait?"
"Of course. Thank you, Mrs. West" came the reply. Amanda sneaked -- as quietly as she could --to a position where she could see downstairs without being seen. Pierre was sitting on the sofa talking to her father. He had perfectly combed blond hair and was wearing a black tuxedo that set off his arctic blue eyes. In his hands, he held a corsage and a bouquet of roses. The sight of him made her heart skip a beat. The man was gorgeous!
"It's showtime," she told herself in a quiet whisper. She took a deep breath and put on her best smile, then made her way down the stairs, where her father and Pierre rose to greet her.
"Pierre! You're on time! Are those for me?"
"Amanda, you are a vision! And yes these are for you." He handed her the roses and pinned the corsage to her gown. "Shall we go?"
Amanda gave Pierre a quick kiss on his cheek. "Thank you, Pierre. These are beautiful! Yes, I suppose we should go now, if we're going to get good parking. "
"Right."
"Hold on, you two! What time can I expect you back?"
"Dad!" Amanda said, mortified
"No, it's OK. I'll have her home by 1 a.m. Mr. West. "
"Just see that you do, young man," Jack West on, Pierre. We don't want to be late." Amanda said cheerfully, and grabbed her date's arm. She gave her dad a look that said 'You're embarrassing me!' as they walked out the door.
"Gee, Pierre. I don't know. I guess I like this song. But war protest music really isn't my thing. I like the romantic songs."
Pierre pulled the car to a stop at a traffic light and brushed his hand against her knee. Pretending not to notice, Amanda let her gaze wander to the car next to them. In it was Mitzi Johnson and her date, a young man with perfect hair, a straight nose, perfect teeeth, and just about the warmest hazel eyes Amanda had ever seen. He was, she noticed, only a couple of years younger than herself, at most. Mitzi was oblivious to Amanda's stare, but the young man met it with a smile, then turned to talk to Mitzi.
"Well?" Pierre asked.
"Huh?"
"I said that we're almost there, and asked if you want to park in front of the building or in back?"
Amanda tried to sound as if she had been listening to him, but the truth was that she hadn't realized he'd said anything or that they had even been moving. All she remembered were those warm hazel eyes and that smile. "Uh... park in the back, I guess. It doesn't really matter as long as we get there."
"Is something wrong, Amanda? You seem distracted. "
"No, no. I'm fine. "
"Whatever. We're here. "
The Enchanted Starlight Ball was a stunning sight to behold. Silver glitter and tassles adorned the walls, along with colored crepe paper, bright sequins, and a mirror ball that hung from the ceiling. Mirrors on one wall made the room seem twice as big as it really was. The overall effect was a party being held in deep space.
Amanda gasped in amazement. "Wow! The Junior Class did a really great job! Didn't they, Pierre?"
"Oh ... Yes ... yes. Just beautiful." Pierre replied absent-mindedly. His mind wasn't on their surroundings, but on the well-formed chiffon-clad derriere that walked in front of him as they looked for their table.
Finally, they found it and sat down. Amanda scanned the room looking for Mitzi and her date, but could find no sign of them in the crowded room. Hoping that her date had not noticed her darting eyes, Amanda quickly rose from her chair and asked him if he would like to dance.
"'You Were On My Mind,' by Crispian St Peter. I love this song. It's so ... American."
"Should I take that as a yes, then?".
"Yes ... yes, of course. Let's dance!" the Frenchman took Amanda's hand, and led her to the dance floor.
Halfway through the song, Amanda felt hands roaming where they shouldn't be, and slapped them away. "Pierre! Stop it! If you do it again, I'm going home. Do you hear me?"
"I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I swear." Amanda accepted the apology.
"PIERRE!" Amanda said when another hand cupped her behind 15 minutes later. "What did I tell you, Pierre?"
"I'm sorry, Amanda. It is just that you are so beautiful! I cannot help myself. "
"Well, you're just going to have to try. I think you're cute, Pierre, but I'm not that kind of girl. So stop it! I'm willing to forgive you because you're French and don't understand how things work here... But do NOT do it again! Understand?!"
Pierre nodded. "OK. I promise."
Five minutes later, another hand. This time, Amanda didn't bother to tell him to stop. She simply slapped him, stormed off the dance floor to their table, and grabbed her purse. Pierre followed.
"Amanda?! What is wrong?"
"You know very well what's wrong, Pierre Gaston! I'm going home!"
Pierre gripped her arm, roughly. "Don't go, Amanda. Please?"
"Let go of me, Pierre!" His hand didn't loosen. She struggled against his grip. "I want to go home!"
"At least let me drive you home. So we can talk."
"We're done talking, Pierre. Now let me go!"
Pierre did not let go.
"I believe she said to let her go, you French pit bull!," a voice said. "She's not your chew toy!"
"Oh no?" Pierre countered. "Lets just see about that."
Before Pierre could utter another word, a hand flew out of nowhere and laid him flat out on the floor. Amanda looked up to see the face of her rescuer -- and smiled.
"Your chariot awaits, my lady!" Mitzi Johnson's date said and offered her his arm.
Gladly, she accepted it and the two walked out the exit.
"Skiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip!" Mitzi whined incessantly as her light brown hair flapped listlessly in the breeze. "Where are you going?"
"Where does it look like I'm going, Mitzi? I'm taking her back to her house."
"Are you coming back?"
Amanda chuckled uncomfortably. "Um ... Skip, is it? I don't want to cause any trouble between you and your girlfriend, so if you would rather me call my parents ..."
"No. It's OK. I'll take you home." To Mitzi he said, "I'll be back as soon as I can."
Mitzi shrugged and walked back into the dance.
Skip unlocked the doors of his silver '56 Impala and got into the driver's seat. Amanda followed suit and got into the passenger seat.
"Thank you so much. I just don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come along and popped him!"
"It was no problem. Tell me, how did you end up with a putz like that anyway?"
"How did you end up with someone like Mitzi Johnson?"
"I asked you first. Now, come on "
"Well, that is a bit of a personal question, don't you think? I think if you're going to ask a question like that then you need to be willing to volunteer the same kind of information."
Skip laughed. "OK. That's fair enough. Mitzi's not my girlfriend. I don't even like the girl! The only reason I'm even going out with her is as a favor to my uncle. She's the daughter of one of his best friends. OK now it's your turn How did you end up with that yutz Pierre Gaston?"
"Oh ... well ... I'm kind of embarrassed to say ..."
"Come on, now! I told you about Mitzi. Open up!"
Amanda rolled her eyes up and sighed loudly. "OK! OK! I'd had a crush on Pierre all year long, so when he finally asked me out, I was thrilled to accept. That's how I ended up at the prom with him. If I had known then what I know now ... well ... let's just say that I wouldn't be in this situation right now. Not that it's so bad. I mean, I met a nice guy like you because of it."
"Yeah. I guess meeting you made going out with Mitzi Johnson worthwhile, too," the young man replied with a chuckle.
Amanda looked down at her watch. Only 10:30 p.m. Plenty of time before her parents were expecting her back home. "Say, I don't have to be home for another 2 1/2 hours. Are you hungry?"
"I could go for a burger. There's a great little cafe a few miles up the road. Want to stop?"
"Sure! Sounds great!"
"So," Amanda said 15 minutes later between bites of Hoffstetter's famous double swiss mushroom burger, "Where did you learn to do that?"
"Where did I learn to do what?" Skip asked.
"Pierre's twice as big as you are. You laid him out with one punch!"
Skip chuckled and wiped a bit of ketchup from his lips with a napkin.
"Oh. That. Basic Training."
"You're in the ROTC at your school? Oh! That's interesting!"
Skip shook his head solemnly. "No," he explained, "I live on the Air Force Base in town with my uncle. 'Basic Training' is just my everyday life."
Amanda looked down at the table and for a long awkward moment neither said anything.
"Mandy ..." Skip finally said, jolting Amanda back to attention.
"Huh?"
"That is your name, right? That's what Mitzi called you."
Amanda made a sound somewhere between a laugh and sigh. "The only people who ever call me 'Mandy' are my Grammy and, well, Mitzi Johnson. And Mitzi just does it to get on my nerves."
"So your name's not Mandy? What is it?"
"Amanda. Amanda West. How about you, soldier? Skip your real name?"
"Nah. But let's just stick with it for now."
"Ooh! Mr. Mysterious! " she teased him playfully.
"That's me. " he said with a wink.
They went on like this for some minutes while they ate their late supper. They talked and laughed until not a crumb was left.
Then Skip popped a dime into the cafe's jukebox and selected the most romantic song he could find. "Care to dance?" he said, holding out a hand to her. When she just stared at it, he added "I'm not a grabber. I promise."
Amanda took his hand and the pair danced for what seemed like an eternity while Old Mr. and Mrs. Hoffstetter pretended not to watch with the twinkle of young love remembered shining in their eyes.
The next time Amanda checked her watch, she turned ghost white. "Oh my gosh!"
Skip stopped dancing and looked into her eyes, concerned. "Amanda?"
"It's 12:30. If I'm going to make it home by 1 a.m. we have to leave now. But I don't WANT to go!"
"Me either," Skip said sadly, "but I don't want you to get into any trouble."
"Yeah. Let's go."
They walked out the door of the cafe and got into the car. When Skip was about to start the engine, he suddenly realized something and looked at her. "Um ... Amanda?"
"Mm-hmm?"
"Where do you live?"
Amanda laughed. "I guess that would be useful to know since you're driving me home! Here, just drive back the way we came and I'll show you where to go."
The light-hearted mood of the ride home was shattered by the sight that met Skip and Amanda as they pulled to the curb in front of the house. Three police cars bathed the West home in red and blue light. Two police officers stood on the porch with a distraught Jack and Dotty West. Four more officers shone flashlights around a section of the yard cordoned off by yellow tape.
"Oh my gosh!" Amanda gasped. "What in the--?"
"Let's go find out." Skip replied. "Come on."
They got out of the car and made their way to the porch, where Amanda's parents caught sight of her and hugged her tight. " Amanda!" Dotty exclaimed. "Oh! Thank God!"
The policemen turned to Amanda, who was holding Skip's hand. "Miss West?" one asked.
"Yes." Amanda nodded.
"And you are?" the other asked Skip.
"Skip. Skip Stetson. What's going on here?"
"Do either of you know Mitzi Johnson?" the first policeman asked. Both nodded.
"How about Pierre Gaston?"
"Um... yeah. He was my prom date." Amanda said nervously. "At least, he was until Skip rescued me." she squeezed his hand gently as she spoke. "What's going on? What happened, officers?"
"Mitzi is dead, honey. " Mr. West said.
"What?!"
The older of the two cops on the porch sighed. "Yeah," he said, "Charlie, finish getting Mr. and Mrs. West's statement. You two, follow me. But brace yourselves. It ain't pretty."
The young couple followed the officer to the taped-off area of the yard and Amanda nearly retched at what she saw. Mitzi Johnson's lifeless blue eyes stared up at them from a pool of her own blood. Her bloodstained white prom dress was torn from the neckline all the way down to Mitzi's waist. A jagged wound followed the rip's path. Placed carefully over her mouth was a bloodstained piece of paper that read "You shouldn't have left me, Amanda."
"Oh my God!" Amanda cried and buried her head in Skip's shoulder.
"Your parents heard a noise and came out to investigate. That's how she was discovered." the cop continued. Then, to Skip, "How do you know the victim, Mr. Stetson?"
"I was her prom date."
"And you say he rescued you from Pierre Gaston, Miss West?"
Amanda nodded.
"What happened?" the policeman asked.
Skip and Amanda recounted the evening's events from beginning to end while the old policeman listened intently and nodded in all the right places. "That would explain the note," he said when they finished.
"Sir," Skip said, "I should call my uncle and let him know what's happened."
"No need, Skip," Colonel Clayton's grim voice said, startling them. "We're here."
The pair turned to see Skip's tall, rugged uncle standing next to General and Mrs. Johnson, both sobbing uncontrollably "Hi, Sir. This is Amanda West. She was the--uh--the suspect's date."
The Colonel removed his hat and bowed slightly. "Ma'am." he said.
"Excuse us. Skip, we need to talk."
He pulled his nephew aside. Amanda couldn't hear what they said, but it was clear from their facial expressions and gestures that it was not a pleasant--or even comforting--conversation. Her worst fear was realized when a teary-eyed Skip rushed over and hugged her. "What is it?" she said.
"My uncle's been reassigned. We're shipping out tonight. "
"Where?"
"I don't know. It's classified. Even he won't know where we're going until we get there."
"Oh. " Amanda said, stifling a sob. "Does that mean you won't be able to call me if I give you my phone number?"
"Yeah," he and said sadly, "or write for that matter. We'll be completely incommunicado."
"Skip!" The Colonel called from his car in the street.
"I'll be there in a minute, Sir," Skip answered. Then, to Amanda he said, "I don't know where I'm going. And I don't know when I'll be back, but I do know that even though we've only known each other tonight, I think we've got a good thing going and I will find you again. If you want me to."
Amanda smiled. "Oh, I want you to!"
Skip returned the smile then leaned in and gave her a tender, lingering kiss that lasted until the impatient blasting of the Colonel's car horn interrupted them. "I have to go," he said. He gave her one last hug then made his way back to his car and followed his uncle's vehicle into the night.
END OF CHAPTER ONE