Author's note: Howdy all. Ok this chapter is funny and sweet, Donna's rant about "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory," was going to be in Kismet, but I couldn't find a good spot for it. She is also referring to the original, not the Tim Burton's remake. Josh's story about the snake, I think is one of the funniest things I've written. But you know that's my feelings. This whole chapter is written in Josh's POV and contains one flash back.
Thanks for the feedback. I hope this chapter makes you smile.
Chapter 3: Snakes, Mistakes and First Dates.
Josh POV
We stand up and walk around the ship, gaining our sea legs. So I bore my soul to a woman I've spoken to three times in seven years, not once did I feel uncomfortable about the situation. It was like telling the story to a friend, someone who would know and understand the story for its value. If she passed judgment on me she hasn't let it show yet. She gives me a hard time about cheating and lying to Congress but promises not to turn me in.
"So what made you decide to come back home?" Oh shit! The question I've been dreading for the past, well I'm not sure how long we've been talking and it would be rude to look at my watch, but I've been dreading it for a while.
I shrug, "I missed it."
One eye brow rises, she's not buying it. "Really?"
Ok. If she didn't keel over the whole Hoynes thing, maybe she might find the story charming. I sigh, adding to the dramatic effect. "You want the truth?"
"It would be nice."
We walk down the upper deck stairs and start doing laps around the main deck with pools. "What do you know about Australia?"
"Lots of stuff. It was founded by the British as a prison colony; it's currently having a problem with bull frogs. It is home to the great barrier reef…."
"Ok, you know a lot. But did you know it was home to three out of the five most deadly snakes?" She nods (smarty pants!). "Well, one of them is called the Common Brown, because it is, in fact, common and brown. This is important background information for the later part of the story."
She blinks at me as if I'm an idiot. If she thinks this is bad… she should wait. "I was renting a small house about thirty miles away from Melbourne. I was catching up on some reading, Faulkner mostly. Anyway, one day I was craving Pop Tarts, so I left my spot on the couch and walked into the kitchen. Once I grabbed my pastry goodness, I returned from my tiny kitchen to the living room, when I hear a rustling sound. Nothing major, but a noise none the less. I quickly scan my surroundings but nothing catches my eye. So I continue with my stroll back to the couch. I take a bite of the sugary goodness when I hear the noise again, but this time it's louder and there's a certain sound of carpet moving. Now this is odd, because I should be alone and the only thing moving should be me. That's when I see it. Long, brown and slithering towards me. I instinctively scream like a little girl. However, it does not scare the snake into retreating."
Donna covers her mouth, most likely to hide her giggles.
"So the snake advances toward me, and I do the only thing that comes to mind. I run back into the kitchen…"
She gasps, "You didn't kill it did you?"
"Did you not hear the part about it being one of the most deadly snakes in the world? But, sadly no, I did not kill it. I threw a book at it."
She blinks at me. "A book?"
"Yeah, I heard that if you throw a book at a snake and it lands on the snake's back, it hinders the snake from moving."
"And did it?"
"Yes it did." I state rather proudly. "However, now I have a snake trapped under a book in my living room. I have to act quickly because I don't know how long the book will trap the beast. I rush to the bathroom and grab the metal trash can to create some sort of cage for the animal. I won't bore you with the details of me trying to maneuver this trash can over the now severely pissed off snake. Oh come on, it's got a heavy book on its back, you'd be pissed too. Once my foe is safely contained under the can, I rush to call animal control. But I can't."
"Why not?" She pauses to think it over and I watch as her giggles turn to laughter. "You threw the phone book on the snake."
I shake my head in shame, "Now, I'm stuck calling information and explaining to some teenage girl there's a killer snake in my house and I need someone to remove it. Of course, she's laughing at me too. Much like you are now." Donna tries to stop her laughter, but loses the battle. "That's when I hear a thumping sound coming from under the can, it wants to break free! Of course I tell the girl this and she patches me through to animal control. Chet, that was the guy's name, says he can't be here for another three hours and to be on the look out for more snakes. In the four and half hours it takes him to get there, (yes, he was late) I stack my TV and remaining books on the trash can and start packing my things. I book a flight, any flight, back to America and call Sam to let him know I'm coming home and he'll need to pick me up from BWI, which he complained about having to drive up to BWI, but that's for another story. I was walking out the door, when the Chet was coming up the driveway. I told him to take his time, because I wasn't going to be living there anymore and to ship the rest of my stuff to my DC address. So there you have it, I came home because I was scared a snake might kill me over my Pop Tart."
Her blue eyes search me for some element that this could have been a joke, concludes that I am serious, and cracks up in my face. Lovely.
"I think you should stick with the "I missed home." Next time someone asks you." She snorts at me.
"It's normally what I tell people."
"Then why did you tell me the snake story?"
I shrug my shoulders, "Don't know, it was the truth." She stops laughing at me and smiles harmoniously at me, even though we're surrounded by tourists and crew, she looks at me like I am the only one the ship. My eyes start to grow wider by the second.
We keep walking around the ship, deck by deck, talking about whatever comes to mind; movies, books, sports (which she doesn't really respond too much to.) She grabs my arm and drags me to a photo of a glass of wine.
"That's a Scott Jacobs, he's known for his photo realist approach to painting. It takes him 300 hours for each work and he uses a single hair brush." She wants to reach out and touch the painting but stops and pulls her hand away. She looks up shyly at me.
"It's really cool." I feel like I need to respond.
"Yeah." She drags me around and tells me more about the art around the ship. I've got this sinking feeling that she isn't like any of other women I've dated. We continue to explore the ship, investigating every room, the casino and the many bars. However, neither of us drink, mostly we're sticking our heads in and mocking the interior design. By the time we leave the inside of the boat, its dark out.
"How did it get so dark?"
"Well, Josh, time passes and the sun goes down and the moon comes out."
"See, you think you're funny."
"No, I know I'm funny." She nudges me. "It is November, the sun sets earlier."
"Yeah, but this is Florida… wait, never mind."
"How many Ivy League educations do you have?"
"Two." She smiles and turns to look into the blackness. In front of us is a void, the only light reflecting from the moon.
Her voice is quiet, "Wow, it makes you wonder why people even left the shore to travel across the ocean. Without satellite and computers to guide the ships, sailors had to rely on the stars… imagine traveling at day and not knowing if you were going in the right directions until your surrounded by darkness?"
"Its celestial navigation." Suddenly I have a hard time swallowing and even looking at her. She gives a little shiver and goose bumps start to form. Even in 70 degree weather she's chilly. My hands move and start to rub her arms. She falls gently back into my chest. "Um, are you cold?" She turns to look at me. The connection is nothing like I have ever felt before: as if this moment could and should last forever.
Two years ago.
The air was thick with perfume, sweat and alcohol. There were too many faces for Josh to keep track of; familiar people who looked like other people he knew, and strangers. Twice, he thought he saw his father in the crowd, and he was pretty sure Dad looked disappointed. But, at second glance, it was a senator from Maine and a waiter. It didn't surprise Josh he was seeing things, his own feeling of failure was overwhelming and the three martini's didn't hurt much either. She was a vision of beauty; the crowd split and all light attached to her. Josh's breathe was caught in his throat.
She saw him and smiled brightly, "Hi Josh."
He swallowed the lump in his throat, "Hi Donna." He wasn't sure how he made it over to her, but when the music started his arms wrapped around her and they were dancing. Vanilla and honeysuckle filled his nose as he took his first breath.
"Congratulations, four more years." She beamed at him, but her praise sent no joy through him.
"It was a close race; we only got elected on the Vice President's coat tails." Josh was dreading the next four years; Hoynes was getting out of control and left untouchable, worse of all, he was getting sloppy. His "transgressions" were becoming more frequent and closer to the White House. He was getting dangerously close to breaking the first rule. Worst of all, he stopped caring about the rest of the world. Genocide in Kundo wasn't as glamorous as trying to nail young ladies.
"How's Cliff?" Josh needed to distract himself from the ever growing self doubt.
She seemed surprised by the comment; it had been nearly two years since she saw Josh last. "Oh, we broke up. Um, he thought I was having an affair."
"Really?" Josh seemed very amused by this accusation. Donna never stuck him as the cheating kind.
Of course, she didn't tell him that Cliff thought she was having the affair with him. "Um, I'm here with Jack Reese." Her head turned in his direction.
"Oh."
"Hey I forgot to congratulate you on your engagement."
"Oh Amy. Right." At that moment, Josh and Amy were not on speaking terms, they had been fighting more often, and over tiny things. The current battle was because Josh was late picking her up and didn't comment about her hair. He studied Donna through drunken lenses. She cared about him, that much was obvious. Maybe cheating on your partner wasn't such a big deal. It was a reflection of her flaws, not yours. Amy had become unbearable, questions about whether this was really going to work out filtered its way into Josh's mind. No one would blame him. He wouldn't be the bad guy. She's the one with the problem and he would be taking a temporary escape. Donna Moss would be the perfect one to escape with. She looked stunning; with her blue eyes gazing and blond hair curls on the top of her head. Sweet, innocent and out of his league. He had never wanted to kiss a woman so badly in his life. Someone cheated on her, someone left her behind. Kevin, Dr Freeride, used and left her. Her, Donna Moss. Cheating wasn't the nature of the woman, but the deep rooted flaws of the man. Dr. Freeride, Hoynes and almost himself.
He didn't speak but looked away into the sea of smiling faces. "Are you ok?" she whispered lightly into the air.
He was still looking into the faces when he responded, "People are sleeping in others beds. Mothers are standing in front of tanks, and the President of the United States is at the bar hitting on some grad student."
Donna moved her fingers to the base of his hairline and pulled him a little closer, knowing full well this wasn't going to solve the problem but maybe give him some peace. He spoke again, "Hoynes. You know I've stopped correcting people, stopped insisting people call him President Hoynes. He hasn't listen to me in a few months, I really don't know what good I'm doing here."
"You're keeping Congress happy; the White House has more allies because you're here."
He huffed, "And what have we done with it, nothing. There should be more victories, more good deeds. Everything should have been more." He sighed deeply, "It's going to be a long four years."
The song was coming to an end, the light trills were sounding. Donna pulled away and saw the deep sadness in his eyes that went unnoticed by everyone else in the room. Handshakes and smiles were only superficial actions, not meant or felt. "I can talk to the Vice President, maybe he could talk to Hoynes about Kundo?"
Josh blinked in horror, "Donna, I didn't tell you this just so you would…"
Four years in DC made her savvy, she knew when she was being played, however Josh just needed a friendly ear for a few minutes. "I know. That's why I'm going to do it." She patted him on the chest and smiled before she walked away and was swallowed by the crowd once more.
Still lost in my desires, she speaks and shakes me out of it. "Why, Mr. Lyman, what kind of girl do you think I am?"
I want to keep her in my arms as long as possible. I shrug and flash my dimples, "A chilly one, I would assume." My joke is rewarded with a little laugh. "You know if I wasn't such a gentleman I might take advantage of this situation."
One of her eyes brow rises swiftly. "Well, Josh, I'm not the kind of girl who kisses on the first date." Date? This is a date?
"Date? This is a date? Really? If I knew that, I probably wouldn't have told you the snake story."
She pulls slowly away from my arms, "Really? Because that's when the date started." She looks around and nods towards the door. "Coffee and dinner might warm me up."
The snake story huh? Very interesting. I place my hand on her back, "Lead the way."
We make our way upstairs to the dinning level and start munching on the buffet. She chats about her life in "Cheese County"; of course she calls it Wisconsin, but whatever. I pick at my food in front of me, my stomach is tight and I really don't want to eat anything that might have lasting after effects, bad ones. I'm still a little desperate to make a good impression. So far it really isn't going well. She seemed to dig the snake story, but I don't know how much longer I can play the "lovable idiot" card.
She, on the other hand, seems to have no problem downing her dinner. Oh shit! A lull in conversation. Quick, come up with something. ANYTHING!
"So, um, do you like baseball? Cause it's my favorite." I swallow a piece of lettuce only because I know she'd want me to eat it.
She smiles, "Sure I do." Then her face changes. Fall, frowns. Dangerous waters ahead, I can feel it. Donna shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "I can't believe I just did that. No Josh I don't like baseball, I think it is a wussy sport." Wussy? She pushes her hair from her face, "You would think I would learn from the "Willy Wonka" experience, but no, I just lied to you so you would like me. But you know what? If the fact that I don't like baseball is the reason you were turned off, then to hell with you." She drinks her coffee and flops back.
She wants me to like her. Her eyes dance around the room; insecure maybe? Yep, she wants me to like her. Cool. "Ok, so you don't like Baseball, fine. But what's up with the Willy Wonka experience?
She smiles, as if recalling a memory, "This is going to sound stupid." She warns.
"Did you not hear the snake story?"
"Um, yeah… On my first date with Kevin, my ex-husband, he let it drop into the conversation that "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory" was his favorite movie of all time. He asked me if I liked it. He was cute and smart and I wanted him to think I was equally cute and smart. What could I say? The movie's so damn magical. One harmless white lie. How could this possibly come back to bite me in the ass? 'Of course I love Willy Wonka, it's so magical.' He practically fawns all over me for the rest of the night. We started to become a serious thing and next thing I know, 'Hey Donna, it's Easter, let's watch Willy Wonka!' 'Donna, I don't feel well, can we watch Willy Wonka?' 'Cable's out, let's watch Willy Wonka.' I've seen the movie at least eighty times now." The funny thing is that I keep doing the same thing over and over. I told Amy I liked the Russian Ballet and the next thing you know I'm at the Kennedy Center with season tickets. She huffs, pushes her salad away and starts working on her cheesecake.
"So what's wrong with Willy Wonka?" Her eyes blaze and I almost regret asking the question.
"I HATE IT! It's not magical at all; it's a horrible movie. Let's start off with Charlie's deadbeat grandparents. Four people in one bed, the best bed in the house, mind you. Oh, but the instant Charlie gets the Golden Ticket, his grandfather jumps out of bed and dances." I go to open my mouth, but she puts her hand up first. "Listen if you are going to tell me that this Golden Ticket makes everyone a kid again and has magical healing powers, then Wonka needed to go into the Medical field instead of Candy Production."
Ok, she just stole my argument.
"Anyway, what that really means is that Charlie's grandfather COULD really walk the whole time and SHOULD have been working and trying to support the family, instead of poor Charlie's mother busting her ass everyday. Statistically, what are the odds of Charlie getting the last ticket? I mean why would Wonka ship it to someone in his own town? Ridiculous. Then there's Wonka himself… he didn't save those Oompa Loompa's. He enslaved them! Did you even see an Oompa Loompa break room in that movie?"
I hold back my laughter to ask the question, "You want the Oompa Loompa's to be unionized?"
"Well, yes! Then there's Charlie. The whole point of the other children characters was to show that Charlie was the good one. BUT he breaks the rules too! He doesn't deserve the chocolate factory any more than the other kids. And what kind of ending is that anyway; flying away on a glass elevator." She huffs again and crosses her arms. "So I vowed never to lie to someone so they would like me…five years of Willy Wonka was punishment enough." She inspects me trying to gauge my impression.
"I've never seen anyone so passionate about a movie before…"I gasp out before loosing my cool together. Her face becomes a mask of fake horror and she throws her napkin at me.
"Oh come on I didn't make fun of you when during your snake story!"
I start waving me hands, "YES YOU DID!"
"Whatever, Steve Erwin." She takes one more bite of her cheesecake. "God, this is good. You want a bite?" She offers me the fork with her blue eyes glittering. This is apparently a huge gesture; sharing her favorite dessert.
"Sure." I dip the fork into the white fluffy cake as a thought tries to fight its way from the back of my mind to the front. It's only when I put the cake in my mouth and taste the smooshy consistency that I remember I hate cheesecake. It's thick and yet smooth, my taste buds don't understand it. DAMNIT! "Umm, good."
She smiles brightly, "why don't you finish it?"
I nod, hoping I am doing a good job of hiding my disgust. "Hey, thanks." I choke down the rest of the cheesecake. I think I might have missed the message of the Willy Wonka story.