Hello, all (yes, I know this chapter's late, and I'm very sorry about that)! This is Kitty Kat-chan, here with the last chapter of the first section. Do not be sad. We had a lot of good times with the first season characters. And we had some bad times! A few things could've gone better, or just not happened at all. But since this is reality (sort of, kind of… Well, not really), all good things must come to an end. This first section is one of them.
Just remember all the good times we've had. And don't forget that we'll see Trapper and Henry again, in the future—the, ah, not too distant future.
So put your hands together and give a semi-final applause for the first season cast! Tally ho!
Warnings: There won't be too much MASH stuff in this chapter, mostly just stuff about Vicky. However, the MASH characters are present at the beginning and end of this chapter. The middle stuff, however, is important too, so you might wanna read it to save yourself some confusion.
Quote of the Day
Hawkeye: (to a newly arrived BJ): Don't forget this is your first day at school. The worst part is you'll get used to all of this.
Disclaimer: I do not own MASH. It's owners' lawyers made that very clear to me… (is hiding inside a cabinet)
What The Hell Is Going On?Chapter 18: This Is Not Goodbye
I glanced up at the clock briefly before turning my attention back to the test. Fifteen more minutes—more than enough time.
You know what's strange? What's strange is that through all the torture, through all the pain, and through all the repeated sadism, my so-called 'family' some how managed to teach me every single thing I'd ever need to know for those damn tests. They really did.
Henry the 8th's first wife? Catherine of Aragon, DUH!
Their child? Mary Tudor, more commonly known as Bloody Mary.
The formula for slope? Simple; y equals mx + b.
How many muscles are in the human foot (ok, WHY did my coach ask that?)? Well that's a no brainer; there are twenty-six bones in the human foot, including nineteen muscles, thirty-three joints, and one hundred and seven ligaments (but hey, who's counting?).
Yep. Everything seemed to be going pretty well.
Too bad it wouldn't last.
By the time school was let out, it was starting to rain really hard. Lightning lit the sky and thunder rumbled. But did this ruin my good mood? Hells no!
When I got home, despite the fact that I was soaked from head to toe, I was still in a very good mood. I was humming the tune to 'Minority' by Green Day, and I was practically skipping. Yes, I know, that isn't a good sign.
"Hello, everyone!" I sang as I bounced through the door and into the living room, where Hawkeye and Trapper were stretched out on the couches, sharing martinis. They stared at me in shock.
I blinked and stared back. We stayed like that for about fifteen minutes.
"What?" I finally asked, becoming slightly annoyed.
"Who are you?" Trapper finally asked.
"And what have you done with Vicky?" Hawkeye added, pulling out a can of coke from the cooler beside him. I rolled my eyes.
"Ha ha, very funny. Everyone's a comedian," I said sarcastically. Hawkeye nodded, handing me the coke, which I immediatly opened.
"That's what I was telling Frank, but he wouldn't believe me."
I snorted into my can.
"So, I take it school went well?" Trapper asked, changing the subject. I nodded, wiping soda off my nose.
"Yup. I don't know how you guys did it, but I think I did pretty well on my tests."
"Well of course you did," Hawk agreed, rolling his eyes as if this was obvious. "Trap and I taught you."
"So did Father Mulchay, Radar, and Henry," I reminded.
The two men rolled their eyes.
I threw my book bag into the corner and plopped down into an easy chair. "Time for me to watch some TV," I said to no one in particular.
"During a storm?" Trapper asked, sounding very surprised. I nodded.
"Duh! Best thing to do during a storm is to watch TV."
I turned the TV on and got myself comfortable. I saw my two 'uncles' exchange looks out of the corner of my eye, but I chose to ignore them.
Everything got quiet then. I mindlessly flipped channels while Hawk and Trap sipped their martinis silently. Soon Klinger joined us, then Henry (who was closely followed by Radar), then Father Mulchay, and finally, the two Majors.
We made small talk, ("How was your day?"—"Oh, it was good, Father Mulchay. I'm pretty sure I aced my tests, thanks to you guys."—"Well, I'm very glad to hear it.") passed some drinks around, and then fell back into another comfortable silence.
Then—
CRACK-A-BOOM went the thunder outside. I yelped, scared senseless. The lights flickered, then went out.
"Aw, shit," I moaned. No one answered. It had gotten strangely quiet all of the sudden. I thought that was strange.
"Guys?" I called, reaching out into the darkness. I felt around for an arm, a leg—anything. But all I felt was air.
I turned to the left and felt around there.
Just the couch.
I turned to my right and reached out.
Just the table.
I began to panic.
"Hawkeye?" I shouted. "Trapper, Henry, Radar? Father Mulchay? Klinger? Margaret… Frank?" No one answered. My breathing was getting labored and my heart was pounding against my ribcage. I tried to make myself calm down.
Suddenly, the lights flickered back on.
And that's when I realized that the members of the 4077th were gone, leaving behind two half-empty martini glasses behind.
Of course, I refused to believe it. I mean, they couldn't be gone. They had to be there! I figured they were just playing a trick on me. They were probably hiding somewhere, ready to jump out and say "Ha ha, got ya Vicky!"
I searched the house. They weren't in any of the bathrooms, the closets, the guest rooms, my grandparents room, the kitchen, or in my room. I was almost in tears after I had finished tearing apart my room. I looked out the window hopelessly and out into the dark night.
Just then, lightening flashed across the sky, successfully illuminating the barn against the dark sky.
"The barn!" I shouted, feeling my hope returning a little. I grabbed my jacket from the chair and pulled it on. I zipped it up and pulled the hood over my face.
'Please let them be there, please let them be there,' I prayed as I raced downstairs, stopping only to grab the flashlight.
I threw open the back door and raced out into the storm. I turned the flashlight on and shined towards the direction of the barn as I ran. Once there, I threw the barn door open and stumbled inside.
I shined the light everywhere around the barn, searching desperately for any sign of the ones I had come to known as my family.
Nothing.
Tears began to well up in my eyes. Chocking, I dropped the flashlight and fell down onto my knees, unable to believe what had happened.
"No," I moaned, covering my face with my hands.
'They're gone,' I thought dully. 'And they aren't coming back.'
I brought my knees up to my face and sobbed.
I spent the next year and a half telling myself that nothing had happened. The 4077th had NOT spent almost a whole month in my house. They had NOT almost burned down my kitchen. My cousin did NOT marry a drunk Frank Burns. I told myself that it had all been one bizarre dream.
Oh, how wrong I was.
Over the next year and a half, I changed. And by that, I mean I grew up. I went from the sulky, bratty little fifteen-year-old to a mature (well… more mature than I was then), cheerful seventeen-year-old woman (for the record, I had just turned seventeen and was going into my junior year).
Granny and Pop changed, too. They were still loving (and of course, still quite senile), but as we all know, age does things to you. My grandparents were no exception. One day, Granny accidentally left the stove on, and the entire house almost got burned down. We got out with a few minor burns, scratches, and bruises, but other than that, we were fine.
However, my grandparents decided that it wasn't safe for me to stay with them anymore. I thought that was crazy, of course—I lived with the two of them for almost nine years and I hadn't been killed yet (surprisingly).
But Granny begged…
And when Granny begs, it's impossible to say no to her.
So it was decided that I would go and live with my two uncles in Texas.
But not just any uncles. Oh no, that wouldn't be crazy enough! I was sent to live with Granny's two younger brothers—which means, my new guardians were my GREAT uncles.
As soon as I discovered this, I quickly pointed out that I wouldn't be much better off with them, because they would be pretty old too.
"Nonsense," Granny had said with a careless wave of her hand. "Hub and Garth are way more responsible than I ever was."
Responsible. Right.
I decided that if I was gonna spend the rest of my high school days with two old, diaper-wearing men (this was how I pictured them to be at the time), then I wasn't going alone. So, I struck up a deal.
I would willingly, peacefully, and gratefully go and live with my two old uncles IF (and only if) I could take a friend with me.
The chances of that happening were slim to none. But miracles do happen, especially when you least expect them to…
Would you believe it, but they agreed (though Granny had to spend two hours over the phone convincing my uncles to let an extra person come), and before I knew it, I was riding down a dirt road, under the big ol' Texas sky, inside a tiny, cramped little car with my GOOD, LOYAL, and KIND-HEARTED best friend, Izzy (of course, I had to use the whole guilt trip to convince her to come with me, since she hated the idea of living with two old guys as much as I did).
I was staring out the window, and she was tapping her foot impatiently.
"Why am I doing this again?" Izzy sighed after spending two hours sitting in silence.
"Because you're my best friend, and you love me, and you wouldn't want me to spend the rest of my high school days being miserable," I replied automatically, not even bothering to look away from the window.
Izzy sighed again, and banged her head against the seat. I started to feel guilty for dragging her with me… But then I remembered that she was a twenty-year-old woman, and she didn't HAVE to listen to me. She just chose to. Now, is that my fault? No, it wasn't.
"Here's the rode," the driver called back to us as he turned the car left. I noticed there was a sign—no, not just one, but SEVERAL signs—up ahead, so I leaned closer to the window to read them.
Here's what some of the signs said:
CAUTION! NUCLEAR RADIATION UP AHEAD!
BEWARE OF DOGS!
TURN BACK NOW!
NO SOLICITERS!
TRESSPASSERS WILL BE SHOT! SURVIVORS WILL BE SHOT AGAIN!
AREA 51 EXPERIMENTS LET LOOSE IN SURROUNDING AREA! LEAVE IMMEDIATELY!
"What the fuck…?" I whispered, reading the signs in disbelief. The driver chuckled.
"Yeah, those two old guys are legends around here. Craziest bunch of crackpots ever to walk the face of the Earth. You know, some people say that the two of them were members of the mafia, and that they held up a bank and stole fifty million dollars, then killed twenty-five innocent bystanders before gettin' away," he informed in that Texas drawl of his.
Izzy gave me an evil look, one that plainly said 'you-are-so-gonna-get-it-when-we-get-out-of-this-car!' I smiled nervously.
"Here we are!" chirped the driver as he pulled into the driveway. I looked out the window and stared at the house. It looked almost exactly like Pop and Granny's, except it looked even worse than my grandparents', and it had a tower with a weathervane on top. The porch had two rocking chairs on it, and several headless chickens hanging from the ceiling on hooks. I sighed.
"Home sweet home…"
Fifteen minutes later, the two of us had our bags out on the porch and we were waving goodbye to the driver. As soon as he was out of sight, Izzy rounded on me.
"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME YOUR UNCLES WERE TWO HOMICIDAL MANIACS?" she screeched, trying to bash me over the head with her purse. I covered my head with my arms as I frantically tried to dodge the offending handbag.
"Ow! Damn, Izzy, OUCH! I didn't know, okay? Ow! Watch it! Ack! My eye!" I squealed. Damn, did she have bricks in her purse or something?
She stopped whacking me finally, but she kept on glaring. I straightened, rubbing my head. I winced. Damn, that hurt!
"Ow… C'mon, let's see if anyone's home. They must not have heard us coming…"
We spent the next five minutes pounding on the door and shouting. No one answered.
"Do you think they're gone for the day?" Izzy asked, wiping sweat from her forehead. I shook my head.
"Nah. Their trucks here. See?" I pointed to rusted pick-up truck parked beside a rickety old hen house.
Izzy opened her mouth to reply, but stopped suddenly.
"What?" I asked, confused as to why she wasn't speaking.
Izzy waved her hand impatiently, gesturing for me to stop talking. "Shush and listen!" she hissed.
I closed my mouth and listened.
In the distant, I could hear loud popping sounds and shouting.
"You hear that?" Izzy asked. I nodded.
"Yeah, I hear 'em," I said. I leaned over the porch rail and stuck my head out, straining my ears for any kind of noise. Finally, I pulled back and straightened.
"I think it's coming from that lake," I informed, pointing to the lake stationed northwest of the house.
"D'you think it's them?" Izzy asked, pulling irritably at the collar of her t-shirt. It was about 98 degrees at the time, so our clothes were sticking to us and making us sweat and grow even MORE irritable.
"I dunno. But there's only one way to find out!" I declared. And with that, the two of us raced towards the lake.
Fortunately for us, the lake was a lot closer than it looked. As we got closer, we started to see the outlines of two men standing in a boat, in the middle of the lake, pointing two sticks at the water.
POW!
Oh wait. Those were guns… Not sticks. We slowed down simultaneously as we both realized that the two men were carrying arsenal.
"Oh dear," Izzy said. I nodded.
"BOW WOW, WOOF WOOF!"
Suddenly, the two of us were surrounded by a red bloodhound, a pit bull, a German shepherd, a bulldog, a beagle, and four dogs whose breeds I couldn't identify.
The dogs jumped up and down, barking, snarling, and snapping at us. Izzy seized me into a death hug. It's a little known fact, but Izzy is terrified of dogs. Well, most of them anyway. She doesn't have a problem with Mattie or some of the other dogs that wonder around town back home in Cottageville. However, these dogs terrified her.
"THEY'RE GONNA KILL US!" she screeched into my ear. I winced.
"I'm sure they won't!" I shouted to her over the barking. I just stood there like an idiot for a few moments, waiting for Izzy and the dogs to settle down. When I realized that none of that was gonna happen any time soon, I groaned. I hated it when I had to take on the role as the brave one. That was Izzy's job!
Holding my hyperventilating friend around the waist, I carefully maneuvered the two of us around the dogs and towards the edge of the lake. The two old men—'My uncles,' I reminded myself—hadn't realized we were there, because they didn't even look up from what they were doing.
I squinted. What the heck WERE they doing, anyway? I strained my ears to hear them over the dogs' barking.
"There's one, Hub! Get 'em, get 'em!"
"I see it! Get the net ready, Garth—"
POW!
I watched, mesmerized, as a dead fish flew up on the air, flipping once—twice—thrice!—before landing perfectly into the awaiting net, which was being held by the one with glasses. The two men whooped, tossed the fish out of the net and onto the boat floor, and the whole procedure started all over again.
Izzy and I stared, at loss for words. The dogs seemed to loose interest in barking, and instead chose to sniff our legs frantically.
"What the hell are they doing?" Izzy whispered to me. I cocked my head to the side, trying to put everything together.
"I think… They're fishing," I answered uncertainly. Izzy snorted.
"Well, that's one way to do it I suppose," she muttered. I nodded in agreement.
We watched the old men blow two more fish out of the water before Izzy spoke up.
"Oi! Hey, you two! Old guys!"
My uncles FINALLY took notice of us. They stood there in the boat, staring at us.
I studied them. They didn't look like Pop, that's for sure. The guy had glasses was tall, about Pop's height I guessed. He was wearing a cowboy hat, a dingy, cream-colored shirt, brown pants, and suspenders.
The other guy was shorter, and had a mustache kinda like Charlie Chaplin's… Except it was bigger, fuller, brown, and graying. He wore a dark beanie, a green shirt with a brown coat, gray pants, and suspenders.
They stared at us, and we stared at them.
"Uh… Hi," I said eventually. They looked at each other.
"Did you send for some hookers?" the shorter one asked his brother. Izzy gasped as my eyes widened.
Okay… That was going just a wee bit far. Izzy and I were NOT dressed like hookers, (1)thankyouverymuch.
We were both dressed in shorts, t-shirts, and sneakers—and the shorts weren't even short-shorts!
"I AM NOT A HOOKER!" Izzy said loudly. I patted her shoulder quickly.
"Calm down, let's not make a scene, please. Remember that they have GUNS, Izzy," I hissed in her ear. My friend pulled a sour face, but went silent. I turned my attention back to my uncles.
"We aren't hookers!" I called to them. "It's me, Victoria! Your niece, remember? Me and a friend of mine were supposed to come and stay!"
The two brothers looked at each other again, then looked back at us.
Because of all the shouting, the dogs were going crazy again.
"DOWN YOU EVIL FIENDS! BACK! BACK I SAY!" Izzy roared, swinging her purse at them frantically. She looked over to my uncles.
"OI! CALL YOUR PSYCHOTIC ANIMALS OFF!" she shouted.
I sighed. I could already tell that Izzy and I were in for one straaaaaaange ride.
"You sleep up there. In the tower," Uncle Garth (the one with the glasses) told me, pushing open the door to the tower. I gulped audibly. Due to her 'extreme phobia of heights,' Izzy was able to get the guest room, leaving me with the dark, creepy tower and it's creaky stairs.
To say the least, I wasn't happy with the rooming arrangements. I had to use a lantern to guide myself safely up the stairs, for crying out loud!
"Uh… Thanks," I said uncertainly, lifting the lantern a little. I looked up into the black abyss that was the stairway, then back to my two uncles. Gripping the handle of my suitcase tightly and taking a deep breath, I started towards it.
"Hey," Uncle Garth said suddenly, placing a hand on my arm. I stopped and looked at them.
"We don't know nothin' about kids," Garth began. "So if you need somethin'—"
"—Find it yourself. Or better yet, learn to do without," Uncle Hub (the one with the mustache) finished. I blinked. Garth spoke again.
"We're gettin' old—"
"—Fixin' to die any time now," Hub broke in again. "So if we kick off in the middle of the night…" He paused and shrugged, looking as if he quite liked that idea. "You're on your own."
I slowly edged into the stairway, staring at them as if they were crazy (which they probably were). Then I remembered what that driver had said about Hub and Garth being in the mafia, and killing all those people. Suddenly fearing for my life, I quickly jogged up the stairs, lest my two uncles decided to shoot me because I was taking so long.
The next day was just like it had been the previous day; not a cloud in the sky, and hot as hell. All four of us were out on the porch; my uncles were in their rocking chairs, sippin' some ice tea, and Izzy and I were sitting on the porch steps.
Izzy was fanning herself with her paperback Harry Potter book, and I was resting my head on my knees, feeling miserable.
'This is how I'm gonna spend the two years,' I thought miserably. That thought really depressed me.
I heard Izzy sigh beside me.
"Can we go inside and watch TV?" she asked my uncles.
Uncle Hub spit out some of the tobacco he was chewing before saying, "It don't work."
Izzy groaned audibly. I lifted my head a little.
"Well… Can I use the phone to make sure Granny and Pop are ok?" I asked hopefully. Uncle Garth turned his steely gray eyes to me, and I flinched.
"Ain't got one," he said before taking a sip of his tea. My jaw dropped.
"You don't have a phone?" I asked in disbelief. Uncle Hub gave me a look, which clearly told me to be quiet. I rested my chin back on my knees and sighed.
It was silent again for the next few moments. I was considering suicide to escape this misery when Izzy asked, "What the heck do you guys do here then if you don't have a phone and ya can't use the TV?"
At that moment, a rather expensive looking red car pulled up into the driveway. Izzy and I watched with interest as a man in a suit stepped out. I immediately noticed that his tie did not go with his suit. That really bothered me. It was obvious to anyone who had at least half a brain that this guy was a salesman.
"Hey!" the salesman said, slapping the hood of his car a bit too enthusiastically. He flashed my uncles a cheesy smile. Izzy snorted in laughter beside me.
The salesman ignored us, focusing all his attention on my uncles.
"Rumor has it that you two have millions stashed away!" the salesman said cheerfully, pulling his hat off to reveal a nice, shiny bald head. "Why not put some of that money to work for you in the high yield only investing in what gold and silver can bring!"
POW!
POW!
I nearly jumped out of my skin. Izzy and I snapped our heads over to see my uncles aiming their guns at the salesman. Said man yelped and whirled around, running to his car door. He opened the door, and was about to get in… But not before holding up a handful of pamphlets.
"Could I at least leave you some—"
Uncle Hub readied the gun, aimed, and fired.
POW!
The pamphlets were reduced to nothing more than a few measly scraps of paper. The salesman dove into his car and took off.
Izzy and I watched the salesman leave before slowly turning our heads to stare at my uncles. They both calmly sipped their tea.
Five minutes later, another salesman came, this time in a blue car.
"Gentlemen,word is out that your two are millionaires—"
POW, POW, POW!
The poor man didn't even have time to talk about what he was selling.
Five more salesmen came that day. Each one left sooner than the other.
As I watched the fifth one leave, Izzy grabbed me roughly by the collar and hissed in my ear, "I swear, if we make it out of here alive, I am going to KILL you!"
I whimpered.
That afternoon, Izzy and I found ourselves in the living room. Izzy was trying desperately to fix the TV, which was showing nothing more than static.
"I hate these antenna TVs," she hissed, twisting the antennas this way and that. I watched her silently, happy to be as far away from those two psychos as humanly possible.
"Tell me if you see anything on the screen," my friend ordered.
"Yeah, I know," I yawned. I watched the snowy screen, feeling quite bored. After five minutes of unsuccessful bending and twisting, an image finally appeared on screen.
"There!" I shouted excitedly.
"Huh?" Izzy said, bending the antenna, thus destroying the image.
"No! Quick, move the antenna back like you had it!"
"Like this?"
"Yes—wait, no, the other way!"
"You mean this way?"
"Close, but no! That way, to your left—YOUR OTHER LEFT!"
"You're confusing me! I don't if you're talking about your left which would be my right or my left which would be your right!"
Finally, after ten minutes of complete confusion, we finally managed to get the image right.
"I wonder why Uncle Hub said it was broken?" I wondered out loud while Izzy fumbled with the dial.
"He probably couldn't get the antenna right," my friend muttered, turning the dial.
Suddenly, a very familiar theme song that used to fill me with happiness erupted from the TV.
"MASH!" Izzy squealed, bouncing to the spot beside me. I groaned. Ever since that… 'dream,' I hadn't been able to enjoy watching MASH. It was too painful.
"Maybe I'll go outside onto the porch…" I mumbled, starting to get up.
"Oh no you don't!" Izzy growled, dragging me back down by my collar. I yelped.
"You are gonna watch this with me, and you are gonna like it!" she shrieked, a slightly manic glint in her eye.
"Okey-dokey," I agreed feebly, feeling quite scared at that moment. Satisfied, Izzy let go, and I sighed miserably.
Then the screen went all snowy again.
"YAY!" I cheered happily, thankful to be spared the pain.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Izzy wailed. She leaped up and began fighting with the antennas again.
"STUPID PIECE OF SHI—" she started to say, but was interrupted by a bright flash of light.
Yelping, I fell onto my back, temporarily blinded. When my vision cleared, I found myself staring up at the ceiling with a big-ass headache.
Groaning, I pulled myself up, rubbing my eyes with one hand.
"Izzy, what the heck happened?" I asked irritably, letting my hand drop. I opened my eyes completely and gasped. There, sitting before me, was a groaning pile of arms, legs, and green fatigues (and in between all that, I caught a glimpse of some pink material).
"Vicky…" Izzy gasped, slumped against the wall. She was staring at the pile as well.
Izzy didn't have to say it. Nobody had to say it. I already knew who it was. Izzy, however, decided to say it anyway, and she did so with a huge grin on her face.
"The 4077th is back!" she cheered, pumping her fists in the air.
"Unh!" was all I could manage.
(1) Yes, all of that is supposed to be smooshed together.
If any of you can guess what movie Hub and Garth are from, I'll give you a cookie and dedicate the next chapter to you! Review please, and I'll update sooner!