(04) What If . . .
"What lies behind us and what lies ahead of us are tiny matters compared to what lives within us." —Ralph Waldo Emerson
0000000000
'But, Jack, you have to do this!' John whined. 'It's for Brown Cow!'
This was during the next day, as their lunch period was reaching its end. (It had only taken the others so long to bring up the Brown Cow issue because Jack had had to serve detention with Lyori again. When he was reunited with them, he was in a very sour mood and they had decided to leave him be for a while.) The group of friends was sitting in one of the stairwells, casually "conversing".
'Oh, come on, Jack!' Fred put in, popping a French fry into his mouth.
'Yeah,' Terry agreed. 'What's the big deal, anyway?'
'The "big deal" is that I'm not into that shit anymore,' Jack snapped. 'The "big deal" is that I don't want to live that kind of life anymore . . . The "big deal" is that I have Ralph now. I don't want to ruin what we have, guys. Ralph is the real deal.'
'That was so sweet that I think I'll have to floss later,' Lee replied sarcastically.
'Bite me, Lee.'
'I'm afraid that's never going to happen, mate,' Lee shrugged. 'I'm straight. Sorry.'
'Just can it! All of you! I flatly refuse to be . . . involved in that.'
'Come on, Jack. You won't even be the only one there,' Lee reasoned.
'Yeah, we've already talked to loads of people!' Terry exclaimed.
'Oh, good, then you won't be needing me,' Jack said smugly.
'But you're the one who will reel in the most money!' John said with earnest. 'Everyone's heard of you and your . . . reputation.'
'Former reputation,' Jack sneered. 'You don't need me. I'm sure that you guys will be able to earn enough money to save B.C.' The others had filled him in on the scoop just a few moments prior to their current . . . well, whining performance. Jack had been quite eager to help, right up until Lee revealed the nature of his plan to save their beloved hangout.
'Jack—' Lee started, but the sudden RRRING of the bell cut him off.
Fred, Terry, and John obligingly bid their farewells and doddled off to their lockers to retrieve their books for their next classes. Lee had purposefully stayed behind, gently pulling Jack to the side of the corridor as a stream of students began washing by them.
'Please, Jack. This is important to me,' Lee said seriously. 'It's not just the restaurant that I want to save. You know me better than the others do. You know why I have to do this.'
Jack sighed. Seeing the pleading expression in Lee's eyes was almost more than he could handle. And yes, Lee was right. He did know why this was so important to his friend. Of their gang, Jack was the only one who would know (and understand) why.
'Maybe,' he finally said.
Lee broke out into a smile.
'Hey, that wasn't a "yes",' Jack warned. 'Just . . . just let me run it by Ralph first, okay, buddy?' He uncomfortably cleared his throat. 'Well, I have to go. I'll talk to you later then, I guess.'
He hauled his bag over his shoulder and was soon lost in the crowd.
0000000000
RRRING!
'Macpherson residence,' Ralph heard his mother answer the telephone from the kitchen. 'Yes, he's he—' She didn't even get to finish saying "here" when Ralph sprinted into the room and tore the phone away from her (for he knew that there was only one person who would call him). 'Ralph!' Mrs. Macpherson scolded. 'That was rude.'
Ralph felt a wave of guilt run through him.
'Sorry, mum,' he murmured, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. 'I'm just excited.'
'I know.' And she obligingly left the room.
'Hello?' Ralph inquired, his heartbeat already racing.
'Hey, babe,' was the reply. 'How are you?'
'Fine, Jack, just fine. Still missing you.'
'Me, too. Missing you, not me, that is.'
Ralph smiled.
'Hey, you'll never guess who I ran into yesterday!' he exclaimed suddenly.
'Is he as handsome as I am?' Jack teased.
'No, they are much better looking,' Ralph responded playfully.
'WHAT! You ran into Orlando Bloom and Brad Pitt (1)!'
Ralph laughed.
'No, silly, it was Samneric.'
There was silence at the other end.
'Jack? You still there?'
'Yeah . . . Sorry, it must be a bad connection or something.'
'Jack, you don't have to lie to me.'
More silence, then, 'So . . . Samneric, eh? How have they been?'
'Pretty good, more or less. They're part of this new gang I joined.'
'You joined a gang? Ooh, sexy.'
Ralph laughed again.
'Sorry to burst your bubble, but I was just playin'. It's not really a gang. Just some friends who hang out together.'
'Stick with the gang story, babe. It sounds more . . . intriguing,' Jack said.
'Whatever you say, love. It's kind of funny how I joined their "gang", you know.'
'Why do you say that?'
'They let me in their group after I lost my temper with my art teacher. I swear, she is such a freak.'
'Freak and a half, I'm betting.'
'Yeah . . . So enough about me. How about you? Anything new in your life?'
'Actually . . . Other than wanting to talk to you, there's another reason that I called,' Jack said seriously.
'You sound like somebody died. What is it?'
'Well, you know Brown Cow?'
'That restaurant over on Sesame Street (2)?'
'Yeah. Well, it's in a bit of trouble. The guy who owns it needs to replace some of his stock, but he doesn't have the money to do it.'
'So, what? You need charity money or something?'
'Not exactly. More like . . . permission,' Jack said awkwardly.
'What do you mean?'
'Well, Lee had this idea to . . . uh . . . auction people off for a night.'
'You mean like sell them?'
'Basically, yeah.'
Something clicked in Ralph's head, and his earlier excitement of having heard from Jack seemed to wear off slightly.
'And now you need my permission to be auctioned off yourself.'
'Er . . . Yeah.'
It almost killed Ralph to say, 'You know, Jack, if you want to break up, just say so. You don't have to give me an elaborate, bullshit story like that.'
'It's true though, babe. And I do not want to break up with you! That's the last thing I'd ever want,' Jack responded brokenly. 'I need you, Ralph.'
'Why? When you have a whole line of guys willing to pay for you, why would you want to give yourself to me for free?' Ralph asked bitterly.
'You shouldn't have to ask that. You know why, Ralph.'
Tear welled up in Ralph's eyes, but he refused to let them fall.
'I do know why,' he replied softly. 'But what I don't understand is why you, Jack?'
'I asked the same thing of Lee,' Jack responded with a forced chuckle, though it ended up sounding slightly bitter. 'He really cares about that place, Ralph. I'm doing this as a personal favour to him.'
Ralph realized that Jack was trying to avoid an answer, but it seemed quite personal, so he let the matter drop. An intense conflict warred within him. Jack did mention that it would only be for one night, and it was for a good cause. On the other hand, did Ralph really want Jack to be with someone else? The green monster of jealousy rose from within the teen's spirit, and he desperately tried to fight it off. Jack had had the goodwill to ask Ralph for permission first, so perhaps . . .
'Jack,' Ralph finally said. 'You can do it.'
'I have your permission?'
'And then some,' the youth replied. 'If it's that important to Lee, then I think that you should do it.'
'Thanks, babe,' Jack said, making a weird kissing sound into the phone. 'I love you.'
'I love you, too.'
'I love you more . . . and I really hate to do this right now, Ralph, but I have to go. Mother is calling me for dinner.'
'Okay, that's fine. Good luck with the auction.'
'Thanks . . . Did I mention that I love you?'
'Twice.'
'Oh, okay then. Bye, babe.'
'Bye . . . Jack.'
And the line went dead.
0000000000
'I still can't believe that I'm doing this,' Jack muttered to himself for what had to be the fiftieth time as he half-jogged the distance to Brown Cow. He had just finished serving his detention with Lyori and had just enough time to make a quick stop at the post office before going to the restaurant for the auction.
It was rather chilly that Friday night, but the teen was scarcely aware of the harsh winds nipping at his hands and face. He unconsciously quickened his pace and soon saw the coloured lights of Brown Cow shining in the distance. He stumbled into its crowded interior not moments later.
'Jack! You made it!' Lee exclaimed, shoving people aside to run over to meet his friend. 'Come on. Let's get you changed.'
'Er . . . Changed?'
'Well, yeah. You didn't expect me to auction you off wearing your school uniform, did you?'
'I thought it would add that "schoolboy" appeal,' Jack replied playfully.
'Whatever. Just go the staff's change rooms at the back and get out of those clothes. There are some things waiting for you there.'
'Can I just have a second to warm up, Lee?' Jack asked, making a show of rubbing his hands together and blowing his hot breath on them.
'But we're going to start soon!' his friend protested. 'The others are already waiting for us.' He craned his head over the large throng of people to glance at the small group of youths who were seated by the platform at the other end of the restaurant, which would serve as the stage for the night.
'Then let me be auctioned off last, instead of first,' Jack suggested.
'But what if the audience already spent money on the other people?'
'Then that's their problem.'
'I don't know, Jack.'
'Oh, come on, Lee. It'll make for a big closing at the end.'
Lee thought about that for a moment.
'Then I say it's a great idea! You could be a great theatre director some day.'
Jack rolled his eyes once his friend had walked away.
"Whatever," he thought. "As long as I'd get to work somewhere that's heated."
0000000000
'Aaand welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the first annual Brown Cow Auction!' Lee said into the megaphone in his best "announcer" voice.
His greeting emitted a loud and rather raucous cheer from the crowd, all of which were teenagers from the nearby schools.
'We all know why we're here, right? To save Brown Cow!'
Another roar was expressed by the flock, and Lee desperately fought the urge to cover his ears.
'Okay, folks, let's get down to business. Our first . . . er . . . participant is a lovely blue-eyed beauty from Oakwoods High. She enjoys eating pumpkin pie and taking long walks on the beach. This girl truly personifies the phrase "shop till ya drop" and is widely known throughout the shopkeeper community because of said reputation. Everybody, meet Valerie!'
One of the teens stood up and took her place beside Lee on the platform. She had long, dark hair and piercing blue eyes. "Lovely" was clearly an understatement.
Lee mentally gauged the boisterous reaction of the audience, quite satisfied to see the interested expressions on most of the faces there.
'Shall I start the bidding at . . . thirty dollars (3)?'
Someone in the back raised his hand.
'I have thirty dollars. Do I have thirty-five?' Lee questioned.
Another youth raised his hand.
'And that's thirty-five. Is there anyone with forty? Okay, forty it is . . . forty-five . . . Terrific. And fifty? Wow! Do I have fifty-five? Thank you, sir . . .
And sixty? Yes! Sixty it is. Going once . . . going twice . . . Sold for sixty dollars to the chap with the tweed hat. Please go and see John and Fred over there about purchasing options.'
Valerie lightly stepped off the stage to meet her "purchaser". Then the two of them made their way over to John and Fred, who were sitting in a booth with a bunch of papers scattered in front of them.
'Wow. That was a great start, everybody. Don't you agree?'
More cheering and clapping was the reply.
'Moving on . . . Our next participant is from St. Christopher's. Many of you already know him, for he was featured on the front page of the community newspaper as a local hero after having saved a cat from a tree. Don't let his lean physique fool you. This gentleman is a prominent member of his school tennis team and won second place for mixed doubles last year. Meet Chad!'
There was quite a number of cheering girls in the crowd as Chad stepped onto the platform. However, the number of swooning ones seemed to beat the former by a long shot.
'Forgive me for being so bold,' Lee said, 'but dare I start the bidding at . . . forty dollars? Okay, I have forty dollars . . . Forty five? Yes! Fifty? Fifty it is . . . Fifty-five? Very good, mademoiselle . . . Sixty? Quite generous, my lady . . . Sixty-five? Ooh! Chad just beat our last record. How about Seventy? Thank you . . . Seventy-five? No?' Lee seemed slightly put out. 'Very well. Going once . . . twice . . . And Chad is sold for seventy dollars. Please see John and Fred about your purchase.'
The attractive blond stepped down from the stage.
'This is very generous of you,' Lee said to the crowd. 'And don't forget, there are still many more for you to choose from. For one night and one night only, you can purchase the man or woman of your dreams. Save Brown Cow, folks. This is a place we all know and love. And we shall return after these messages . . . Just kidding. Let's move on, shall we?'
'YEAH!' the teens cried out.
'Yes, right after these commercial messages . . . Just kidding!' Lee sighed happily before raising the megaphone to his lips once more. 'Our next participant comes all the way from Greenfield High. He's what folks would call a "romantic" or some sorts. Having been born and raised in Paris, one of the most romantic cities in the world, this chap definitely knows what it takes to woo and woman off her feet. Having moved to the United Kingdom but a year ago, he has lost none of his appeal. I would like you to meet . . . Pierre!'
And so the auction continued. This was going to be a long night.
0000000000
There were about thirty participants in total, but only two of them were left, impatiently waiting for Lee to auction them off. Jack stood a short distance apart from the other teen, observing his surroundings in a sort of daze.
The crowd before him, though it appeared to have lost some of its energy, seemed to have only grown in size. Quite a number of people had walked away happily with their "purchases", but more people just seemed to be pouring into Brown Cow. Whether it was curiosity towards the clearly visible crowd inside the restaurant or interest in purchasing someone for one, wonderful night, Jack would never know.
'Okay, folks, we seem to be narrowing down to our last two participants,' Lee said; the teen seemed to have lost none of his vigour. 'Up next we have the pride of St. Anthony's. Despite being both the captain of the cheerleading team and the founder of the ski club, this lovely item also maintains astounding grades and an even better social life. If she has any flaws, it would be being too perfect. It is my honour to introduce . . . Cheryl!'
The dark-haired beauty took her place beside Lee, flashing the crown a flawless smile.
'Do I have forty dollars? Forty it is . . . Dare I jump to fifty? And we have fifty . . . How about fifty-five? Okay. And sixty? Very good . . . How about sixty-five?' He nodded to a teen waving frantically from the side. 'And seventy? Yes! Seventy-five? Booyah! Eighty? Terrific! We're at eighty dollars. How about eighty-five? And we have eighty-five. Going once . . . twice . . . Sold for eighty-five dollars!'
Jack felt his heart beating faster, and he only vaguely heard Lee's usual ending of "please see John and Fred blah blah". Eighty-five? Well, okay, that wasn't too bad. Up till this point, one hundred and twenty dollars was the record. It was made by the attractive captain of the famed football team from St. Michael's. However, Jack felt nervous all the same. With his former reputation, he would just be putting himself to shame if he couldn't beat that. But if he didn't, he wouldn't be different from any of the others and he'd be able to put that reputation behind him . . . maybe.
"Well," Jack thought, inhaling deeply, "this one isn't my call. It depends on how much people want to bid on me."
Terry, who was sitting beside him, noticed his nervousness and thumped his back in what he seemed to think was a comforting way.
'You'll be fine, Jack,' he said.
Jack nodded numbly.
'Next up—' he heard Lee begin.
"Here we go . . ."
'—we have the best of them all. He needs no introduction, but I'll give you one, anyway. For many years, he has been known as both the community heartthrob and heartbreaker. But let me tell you, folks, that this guy is a very dear buddy of mine. He's been around, there's no lie in that.'
Jack felt anger welling up inside of him.
"Keep going, Lee. You're doing wonderfully," he thought sarcastically.
'However, it's that "around" business that makes him so good at what he does. If you—yeah, you—want a dream date with a dreamboat, then this is the man you'll want; a movie, dinner, and perhaps even some "dessert" afterwards . . .' Lee said, raising his eyebrows suggestively. 'Pull out your wallets and give a warm welcome to . . . Jack Merridew!'
The noise drawn from the crowd could have raised the roof (had it not been so skillfully pasted to the walls). It had to be the loudest cheer yet. Jack saw, to his satisfaction, that the faces of the other participants (who had chosen to stay behind and watch the rest of the auction) were very sour indeed.
'I take it you've heard of him,' Lee said with a grin, winking at Jack as the latter stepped up onto the platform. 'We shall start the bidding at fifty dollars.'
'I have fifty dollars!' someone cried out.
'Okay, we have fifty. But I'm sorry to say that isn't good enough. Fifty-five?'
Another youth waved madly in Lee's direction.
'And we have fifty-five. Come on, folks. I'm sure you can do better than that. Do we have sixty? Very good. And let's jump to seventy. Excellent. Seventy-five? Terrific. Mr. Merridew, strut your stuff! Let's see how far this crowd will go.'
Jack silently pledged to kill Lee for this later. After all, he hadn't made any of the others do this. Sighing inwardly, Jack turned his back to the crowd and made a show of taking off the leather jacket Lee had made him change into. He suddenly whipped around and faced the audience, revealing to them the tight muscles of his torso, which were easily visible through the sinfully tight shirt he was wearing. Jack tossed the jacket into the crowd and tousled his hair in a carefree way.
'Eighty?' Lee called out, and was immediately met by a few screams of compliance.
Somebody had slipped some money into the jukebox and it was now playing a very lively club tune.
'Eighty-five? Yes! Ninety?'
Jack began to dance erotically, moving his hips in slow, circular motions.
'We have ninety! And ninety-five? Excellent, mademoiselle.'
Now the teen slipped his fingers under the edge of his shirt and pulled the clothing over his head, revealing his body to the raucous throng.
'One hundred? And we have reached one hundred dollars! Do I dare ask for one-o-five? Fantastic. And one-ten? Wonderful. One-fifteen? Yes! One-twenty! One-twenty-five!' By now, Lee was practically jumping with joy. 'And Jack has made the new record, ladies and gentleman! Let's go for . . . one-thirty?'
Jack strutted across the stage and winked at the people—both guys and girls alike—who were cheering there. Then he made his way to the other side of the platform and repeated the sequence.
'Take if off, Jack!' someone screamed excitedly.
'Yeah, take it all off!'
'Sorry, folks, he has to save some for his "purchaser",' Lee announced in mock apology.
The crowd booed.
Jack grinned wickedly and returned to the centre of the stage. Once there, he unbuttoned the top of his tight leather pants and leisurely pulled the zipper down. Then he slipped his thumbs past the waistline and ever-so-slowly started to pull the offending garment down. The top of his crimson boxers was just visible, before—
'Two hundred dollars!' a voice cried out over the noise.
A sudden silence seemed to wash over the crowd as they all craned their heads every which way to find the owner of the voice.
As Jack and Lee were slightly higher up than the others were, they had no trouble finding said youth. Their eyes widened in disbelief as a certain dark-haired teen easily slithered through the throng to stand before the two; no one dared to intervene. Jack noticed from the corner of his eye that Lee had a strange smile upon his face when he looked upon the other.
'That was a big money jump! How excellent, and how will you be paying, Cristóbal?'
0000000000
(1) Mini-Disclaimer: Obviously, Orlando Bloom and Brad Pitt are not mine. Not yet, that is . . .
(2) Mini-Disclaimer: -Random FOB accent- I no own Sesame Street -End accent-. Hehe, couldn't help it. Had to do the whole "Sesame Street" thing. (I just hope that I hadn't already mentioned in "Trapped in a Nightmare" what street it's on. Unlikely.)
(3) Sorry, I don't really know the whole dollars to pounds exchange. I found a website, but I think it would be tedious for me and for you, the readers, most of which I'm sure are more familiar with dollars. I really am sorry; I just want to be consistent.
