Wow, I'm back, sooner than expected, with a new chapter for the lot of you. I may be stretching this subject a bit too much, but Mike's been pushing me to give it depth before it loses the intended meaning. It's supposed to deliver a message, after all, like everything in the original TV series, and this fic as well. It's building up for future chapters, too. Hope you like it.
Author's note: Jane and Adam wanted me to post the next chapter before New Year, so I thought I would comply. I'm all for pleasing my faithful readers. Jane and Adam, thank you for sticking around.
Disclaimer: Joan of Arcadia and all its related characters, places, etc, belong to Barbara Hall and CBS. The Foo Fighters belong to their record company. Original characters, places and plotlines belong to me.
This chapter brought to you by Diet 7UP, Tylenol Cold, Honey Bunches of Oats, November/ December issue of AdBusters, "The Solitaire Mystery" by Jostein Gaarder, my very own home-made eggnog, and my latest favourite album: "Good news for people who love bad news" by the amazing Modest Mouse.
Chapter Soundtrack: "Times like these" by Foo Fighters, "Blackbird" by The Beatles, "Be quiet and drive" by Deftones, "Freak out" by Avril Lavigne, "I'm not the one" by Sum 41, "Collide" by Jars of Clay, "Local god" by Everclear, "Humdrum" by The Corrs, "The world at large" by Modest Mouse, "Flying foxes" by Moby.
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The Beginning of the End
-by La Gioconda
Chapter Eleven – Be quiet and drive
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The following week and a half went smooth. Joan and Luke didn't try any more stunts with their parents, although they remained hopeful and continued to be polite and diligent in case Will and Helen suddenly believed their children had undergone a serious transformation of character.
Joan hung out a lot with the new gang. The newbies continuously told hilarious, crazy stories about their previous schools and hometowns, and what they used to do and with whom. Then Grace and Adam would tell some really strange, funny stories about their life in Arcadia, and some amusing ones about what it has been like since Joan had come along, about her weird antics and unusual hobbies.
"We have, as of yet, to figure out what exactly she's been smoking," Grace stated, earning a deadly glare from Joan.
Joan could also tell that the others were trying not to talk about the concert while they were around her or Luke. They probably felt bad that Joan and Luke weren't going, and decided it was inconsiderate to bring the subject up. However, someone eventually mentioned it briefly, which led to Adam confessing that he wasn't going after all, which also led to a whole discussion: Troy pretended to be mad just to taunt Adam, claiming to have worked very hard to get those free tickets; Jordan, Carolina and Erika were as scandalized as they had been when Joan and Luke announced they were denied permission, saying that it was going to be a bummer without the three of them; Remy told Adam it was not the brightest thing to do, rejecting a free ticket for the Foo Fighters, but in the end he declared sincerely that he would probably do the same thing for Jordan; and Joan was still a bit sad, because the whole situation made her feel guilty.
The day right before the concert, the lunch bell rang, and Joan walked out of the Economics classroom and met up with Adam and Jordan, who were just coming out of art. The two confessed that they had just been talking to Helen, begging her to reconsider about Joan going to the concert.
"Oh my God, how could you? The last thing I need is badgering my mom with any more of this concert hoopla. She's going to think I'm plotting something with you guys!" Joan exclaimed, slightly horrified, but then paused. "What did she say?"
Adam and Jordan looked at each other and sighed in disappointment. "Sorry, Joan. Doesn't look like she's changing her mind at all," Jordan said.
"It was worth a shot," Adam added, shrugging.
"Yeah, unless she thinks I put you guys up to it," Joan groaned. Just when she thought she was over the whole concert thing, these guys had to bring it up. She was only beginning to deal with the disillusion. It was starting to feel like the end of the world after all.
They walked into the cafeteria and got some food in their trays before heading to their usual table. They found the rest of the gang, hunched over the table, heads together, listening to Luke, who was talking in whispers. Luke caught sight of Joan, Adam and Jordan and immediately stopped mid-sentence. The others followed his lead and sat back in their chairs, pretending normalcy.
"What's going on?" Joan asked right away, trying to sound clueless. She didn't like the look of that whispered conversation, much less the way it had abruptly been interrupted when she approached.
"Luke was just spewing some very boring science-related polysyllabic words, and we were just politely pretending to be interested," Erika said. Luke glared at her.
"Okay," Joan replied as she and the others sat down, and that was the last thing that was said about the subject. They began talking about completely unrelated things. Joan looked at Luke suspiciously, but her brother never looked at her, not even when they spoke directly to each other. It was as if he were avoiding deliberately meeting her eyes.
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Before last period, Joan was coming back from her locker, and found her friends once again huddled together, whispering, and once again it was Luke who was doing most of the whispering. Troy had materialized out of nowhere and was standing with the group as well, along with Adam and Jordan. When Joan was almost within earshot, Friedman saw her and quickly yanked Luke away, and the pair disappeared around the corner of the hallway. The others pretended to have been talking casually. Joan didn't even bother asking. She just ignored them and made her way to Social Studies. She sat in class with Adam, Grace, Jordan, Remy, Caro and Erika, but none of them said a word, causing the room to be eerily quiet. Even the teacher pointed out it was a very suspicious silence.
When the final bell rung, Joan managed to get outside quite fast. She sat on the entrance steps, waiting for the others to catch up. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Grace and Jordan coming her way, talking to each other. They looked like they were arguing in hushed voices, but when they realized Joan was looking at them, they shushed each other quiet and walked over to her nonchalantly. Each sat at either side of Joan and looked at her, but neither said anything. Joan finally lost her grip.
"I feel like I'm in a freaking pantomime, and you're all lousy actors, so just cut the crap," she blurted angrily.
Jordan looked like she had just been slapped, then she pouted. "Ouch," she mumbled. Grace rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, yeah, I admit, we suck at this show," she said. Jordan frowned, visibly offended at being called a bad actress. "But we're not the ones who put it together."
"We're letting you in on what's going on because we think that's how it should be," Jordan continued. Joan had a feeling she knew what it was. She looked at Grace for the answer.
"Luke is planning on sneaking out of his house tomorrow night, and coming with us to the concert," Grace said bluntly.
Yes, it was exactly what Joan had suspected. She had actually considered the possibility of her brother plotting something like that. But she never actually thought he'd do it; or that he'd even know how to, for that matter. She shook her head. "What an idiot," she muttered.
"He made us all swear we wouldn't tell you, but we thought you should know," Jordan explained. "We tried to talk him out of it, but—"
"He's unbearably pig-headed," Grace interjected.
"He's got his mind quite well set on it," Jordan finished, expressing herself more delicately than Grace. Joan sighed.
"I think most of us would've expected you to be the one plotting to sneak out. Not Luke," Grace added.
"And why s it so important that you tell me about it?" she asked, getting up. If Luke wanted to be stupid and get in trouble, he could go ahead and get in stupid trouble on his own. Why drag her into it? Jordan and Grace got up as well, following Joan down the sidewalk.
"You're his sister. You know what's best for him, more than us. Maybe you can convince him not to do it. He'll probably listen to you," Jordan said. Joan snorted.
"You said it yourself: I'm his sister. Whatever makes you think he'll listen to me at all?"
"You live with your parents, too, don't you? You're the one that can remind him what your mom and dad will do to him if he does something like this," Grace clarified.
"What's it to you anyway, Grace? I thought Luke got on your nerves. Why are you so worried about what will happen to him?" Joan asked. Grace didn't answer, but rolled her eyes in a fitting response. Joan kept walking. "If he's really being as headstrong as you say, he'll think I'm just trying to stop him so I won't be the only loser not going to the concert," Joan said. "I'm not about to waste my energy with him, he can hold up on his own. Frankly, I don't even understand why he is so bent on going. He doesn't even like the Foo Fighters that much. But I don't care anyway. He can go off and do whatever he wants." Joan was ranting now. She was angry at Luke for being senseless, angry at her friends for wanting to get her involved against her will. But mostly, she was angry because she wanted to go to the concert, even if it meant sneaking out and getting into a fray with her parents. But she knew she couldn't. She knew this had something or everything to do with what God had told her.
"So you're not going to do anything about it? You're just going to let him go?" Grace asked. Joan stopped and turned to face her friend.
"That's exactly what I'm going to do: nothing. It's none of my business, right? Best stop sticking my nose into other people's lives, right?" she snapped. Grace and Joan glared at each other. Joan knew she was being a bitch, but it was true, anyway; Grace was always giving her crap about how much Joan always had to mess into other people's lives. And now she was demanding that she do just that?
Jordan looked worriedly at each of them in turn; she sensed this was a quarrel that went way back, so she stayed out. Joan dropped her guard, feeling exasperated. She knew Grace had nothing to do with her brother's stupidity. But Joan couldn't help having a go at her; she was so tired of all this right now.
"I don't know why you guys are so worried. It probably won't work out, anyway, and my parents will sentence him to house arrest before he can even climb out his window," she added. "I have enough crap to deal with. He's on his own now."
Grace and Jordan looked at each other, clearly showing that they disagreed with her. Joan sniffed contemptuously and left before they could say anything else to her.
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Joan was on the verge of depression by Thursday; the day of the concert. She still couldn't believe she wasn't going. And now Luke was concocting a little disaster for himself. And for some reason, Grace and Jordan expected her to intervene.
She didn't talk to anyone except Adam, at school. The problem was that she only had two classes with him. The rest she had to spend with Grace, Jordan and the others. Then there was AP Chem, which included Luke, and she just wanted to explode.
"Are you okay?" Adam asked her, just when Lischak had her back to them and was talking excitedly about boiling points. Joan was about to say yes, but she didn't want to lie to him, so she just shook her head. Beside her, Grace exhaled loudly. Joan simply ignored her.
"We'll talk after school, okay?" she told Adam. It would be impossible to talk freely with him when the others were so near. Besides, she wasn't in the mood at all. She had a history test on the Spanish Inquisition, and she feared a possible pop quiz in English Lit. With any hope, she would survive until the evening, and then she'd crawl into a corner and cry her eyes out because she would miss the Foo Fighters live and it was just not fair.
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"Want to come by later?" Adam asked. Joan hugged a cushion to her chest and nestled the phone in her shoulder.
"I'd like to, but my parents made it clear: no outings during weekdays. But I think they were emphasizing that just because of today," she said into the receiver. It was almost six, and she was sprawled across the living room couch channel-surfing, eating almonds and talking on the phone with Adam. Unless she was very much mistaken, Troy was already picking up the gang to get on the way; in which case, the Blue-natic should be appearing around the neighbourhood soon, to pick up Luke.
"And where are they?"
"Well, my dad's working, and my mom is doing laundry; she couldn't bear to wear stiff clothes anymore," Joan replied with a chuckle. "Hey, maybe you can come by later and we could watch movies or something. That way we'll do something together without me having to leave my prison cell," she suggested.
"I'm not sure if I should leave my prison, either. I haven't gotten started on the conceptual piece your mom assigned us, and it's for Monday," he replied.
"Bummer. I'm totally clueless about conceptual art; otherwise I would help you," Joan said.
"I'm home!" Kevin yelled, as he entered the house making a lot of racket, slamming the door behind him. Obviously he hadn't seen Joan, because she was concealed by the backrest of the couch, so she sat up and glared, almost knocking the bowl of almonds off her lap.
"Hey, I'm on the phone here!" she hissed at him. Kevin nearly fell out of his wheelchair in surprise.
"Sorry, didn't see you there. Where's everybody else?"
"Dad's at work, mom's in the laundry room. Luke's still here, I suppose," Joan answered. Kevin had no idea of what she meant by that last mention, but he shrugged dismissively and went to the kitchen. Joan lay back down on the couch. "Sorry about that. That was Kevin."
"Did you just nearly bite his head off?" Adam asked with a chuckle.
"Don't judge me, I'm just irked today, you know? Stupid concert. And I still can't believe you're ditching because of me. I feel terrible," she said.
"Cheer up, Jane. There will be other concerts," he told her. Joan was going to reply, when there was a strange sight on the TV screen; the channel she had just landed on was broadcasting the evening news, and there was a very familiar-looking anchorman in a grey suit sitting at a desk in front of a blue wall.
"Joan, can you hear me?" the anchorman called from the TV.
Joan nearly choked on an almond. She sat up and blinked, to make sure she wasn't hallucinating.
"Jane, can you hear me?" Adam's voice called from the auricular. Joan managed a quick response.
"Uh, Adam? I'm gonna have to call you back. Er, my mom is calling me."
"Okay, later then. Bye," Adam answered. Joan said goodbye and turned off the phone.
"How's the reception? Am I coming across clearly?" God asked, adjusting His black necktie. Joan rushed toward the TV, kneeling in front of it so that she would be eye-to-eye with the figure on the screen.
"I really hate it when you show up in my house like this," she stated. God shrugged.
"Well, not many people like having a news flash interrupt their TV programming, but usually those announces are supposed to be important," God replied. "So, how are you doing this lovely evening?"
"This better be important, because I'm not in the mood. And besides, I was talking to Adam and you interrupted," Joan retorted.
"It is important. There is a very important issue you should discuss with your brother, and you're postponing it."
"I hope you're referring to Kevin, because I have nothing to say to Luke," Joan declared. "He's sixteen years old; I would say he's old enough to take care of himself. And he's supposed to be smarter than the average kid his age," Joan said.
"Intelligence doesn't equal logic. Just like age doesn't equal maturity," God responded. Joan rolled her eyes.
"I know that. But why do I have to get involved?"
"You're his sister. He might not want to listen to you, but it's your responsibility, as older sibling, to protect him," God explained. "Kevin used to protect you because you were his little sister, didn't he? You eventually stopped needing him, but you know you can always trust him to take care of you."
Joan bit her lip thoughtfully. Sure she remembered, especially when she had entered high school, how Kevin had always protected her, whether it was from the bullies or bad influences or boys with ulterior motives. Even after the accident, during the time when Kevin felt like he had lost his powers, his strength, Joan admired him, because he recovered eventually, and because he continued to be there for her. She could always trust that he would be there for her.
Luke didn't have that, Joan realized. His older brother protected his sister only, and they both picked on Luke for being the little one and a nerd. He never had someone to defend him at school or anywhere else. His whole life, he had pretty much survived on his own, and barely. All of a sudden, Joan felt sorry for her little brother.
"Luke doesn't trust me. I've always made his life impossible," she admitted.
"You haven't even tried to talk to him."
"Because I know it's impossible," Joan said. She shook her head tiredly. "This is all very annoying. You said I had to do the right thing, didn't you? Well, I'm doing what's right; I'm not the one sneaking out. I'm staying out of trouble, like I should."
It was God's turn to shake His head. "Just because it's the right thing for you doesn't mean it's the right thing in general. There are other ways to make it right."
Joan breathed deeply. She didn't want to have to do this.
God pointed to a square that suddenly appeared over His left shoulder, showing the same picture of the Foo Fighters that had been printed on the posters announcing the concert. "The concert begins at nine, doors open at eight. Time's running out." He gave her a meaningful look, and Joan grimaced. She really, really didn't want to have to do this. God was now holding some sheets of papers, and looking straight ahead, and the square on His right now displayed a picture of Colin Powell standing at a podium. "A press conference was held this morning at nine, where former Secretary of the State, Colin Powell, issued a statement regarding the subject of the—"
"Wait! Is that all you've got to say?" Joan yelled at Him. She heard the sound of footsteps behind her and quickly turned her head. It was Luke. It seemed he had been coming downstairs, but when he saw her, he had turned around and tried to make it back upstairs without her noticing. Obviously, she did notice.
"Oh, it's you," she simply said. Luke stopped on his tracks and returned to the landing. He tried not to look guilty as he came closer.
"You know, it's great that you seem to have taken up an interest in the news, but you shouldn't argue with the TV, it's not very healthy," he said in what he hoped was a casual voice. "And neither is sitting so close to the screen."
Joan got up. She took a look at his jacket and shoes, and realized he was already on his way out. Had he actually planned to go out the front door unnoticed? What a dumbass, she thought. "Going somewhere, little bro?"
Luke shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I'm going to Friedman's house. We're working on a project. Strictly confidential."
Oh, what a dumbass, Joan thought again. She turned off the TV and walked to the couch to fetch the phone. "Is this the same Friedman who is probably already on the Blue-natic with the others on their way to the Foo Fighters concert?"
"Friedman's going to the concert?" Luke asked, faking surprise.
"Don't be a dork, Luke. Friedman's got a free ticket, just like us. Except that, by some strange turn of fate, he's got permission to go, and we don't," Joan said, stepping toward her brother, slowly, tauntingly. "However, I'm on to you right now and your lousy, amateur escape plan."
Luke watched her with narrowed eyes. "Who told you?" he asked in a very low voice.
"No one. I found out on my own. It doesn't take a genius," Joan lied, so she wouldn't compromise Grace and Jordan. But it wasn't as if she hadn't noticed something odd herself. Luke was very conspicuous.
He sniffed. "Obviously it doesn't. Takes much less than that," he said maliciously. Joan gave him a steely look before hitting him on the side of the head.
"Don't be so impertinent. You're not so much of a genius yourself. Did you actually think this brain-dead plan of yours would work out?" she snapped.
"Shh!" Luke hissed. He looked worriedly toward the kitchen, and nearly jumped out of his skin when a figure came out, but he was relieved to find it was only Kevin.
"What's going on?" Kevin asked.
"Where's mom?" Luke responded with another question. Kevin gestured to the kitchen.
"She's in the laundry room separating colors and whites. What is going on here?" he asked again.
Joan looked smugly at her younger brother. "Luke's sneaking out to the Foo Fighters concert," she said to Kevin. Luke was glaring daggers at his sister.
"Are you serious?" Kevin asked, staring at his brother with an expression of amusement and disbelief. Luke exhaled resignedly.
"Why do you want to go so badly that you're willing to defy mom and dad?" Joan asked. "I mean, have you even considered what will happen to you when they find out?"
"Why would they find out? Are you going to tell them? You or Kevin?"
"We don't need to. They will find out; they always do. They're parents, it's their duty, and they have their ways," Joan said.
"So, are you going to try to stop me? Are you physically going to prevent that I leave the house?" Luke asked haughtily, crossing his arms in a defying manner.
Joan shook her head. "I just wanted you to think for yourself about the consequences. I thought you were smart enough to figure it out on your own."
"Look, it's a stupid concert. Nothing's gonna happen. They'll get over it," Luke exclaimed in a rough but hushed voice, throwing his hands in the air.
"It's much more than that," Joan replied, but before she could say it all, Luke glanced at his watch, then turned around briskly and walked to the front door.
"You're being melodramatic. You just don't want me to go because you're the only one not going," he snapped, as he opened the door as quietly as possible.
"Luke," Joan's voice had a warning tone in it, "you step out that door, and I don't care what you label me later, I'm rattling to mom. And you'll regret this."
Luke gave her a very long look, like he was debating with himself whether to believe her or not. "You know you wouldn't," he said finally. After a few more seconds of scrutinizing her, he stepped across the threshold and gently closed the door behind him.
Joan hesitated for a moment before walking to the door. She didn't go out to call after her brother or to drag him back in; she pushed the curtain of the side window panel apart and looked out. The fading light of the setting sun dimly illuminated the figure of Luke hurrying toward the sidewalk. Joan also saw two other figures half-hidden by the hedge fence of the next house, waiting for Luke; the three silhouettes lingered briefly before sprinting down the sidewalk in the direction of the street corner. After they had passed the next house, they were out of sight.
Joan shook her head in disbelief. She went back to the stairs and sat down on the second step, looking down at her hands thoughtfully. She had tried, no doubt about it. She tried to talk some sense into him, but he was as pig-headed as Grace said. It made Joan very angry at her brother, but it also made her very worried.
"Aren't you going to tell mom?"
Joan looked at Kevin. He had been so silent during the row that she had almost forgotten he was there. "I don't know. I don't think so. But someone's got to bring him back. We can't just let him go all the way to Blakefield and back."
"Definitively. A rock concert is no safe place for a dweeb like Luke. He's likely to get in trouble."
"He already is. He's in deep shit."
Kevin couldn't help snickering. He didn't usually hear Joan swear. But she was visibly concerned right now. "Why did you let him go, anwyay? You could've stopped him. He's scrawny and soft." Joan ran a hand through her hair.
"I didn't actually think he'd leave. I thought he'd get scared and back out because I threatened him. That usually works. Now he's gone completely mental." She sighed. "We're not telling mom, that's for sure. I know it's a tempting prospect, but I don't actually want Luke to hate us forever. And we've got to bring him back."
"We?" Kevin repeated. "I'm sorry. I don't even know how I got dragged into this bad Real World plot, forgive the redundancy, but I can't go anywhere tonight. My car's low on gas, I'm very tired, and I've got to get up early tomorrow. It's four hours to Blakefield and back, I don't think I'd survive them." He saw Joan narrow his eyes at him. "Just let him go to the freaking concert, and when he comes back, he'll realize his mistake, and how no concert is worth having to deal with mom and dad afterwards."
"I wish I could, but…" Joan trailed off. There had been something about that last look anchorman God had given her that caused her chills. "I have a bad feeling about this. I don't know what it is, but I have to bring him back," she said very seriously, and she went to get the phone from where she had left it on the couch. Kevin stared after her.
"You're going to drive to Blakefield alone? Are you suicidal?"
"I'll call Adam and ask him to come with me. That way, I won't drive all the way to Blakefield alone. Besides, Dad's exaggerating. That road is not dangerous," Joan said.
"I'm talking about dad himself. When you come back, he'll strangle you. Joan," he grabbed her arm when she was about to rush upstairs, "nothing is going to happen to him. It's not worth jumping into the frying pan after him."
"You don't know that," Joan told him. "Look, if you don't want to get involved, pretend like you're clueless. If mom and dad ask about us, you say you don't know. We'll deal with them when we get back." Before he could reply, she ran upstairs and into her room. She threw on a pair of jeans and her grey hooded parka, and she sat on her bed to put on her Chuck Taylors. Then she quickly dialled Adam's number while she frantically looked for her Foo Fighters ticket; Troy had told her she should keep it, in case she had a sudden strike of good luck. She found it beneath a pile of papers on her dresser. In the meantime, no one was answering the phone in Adam's house. She tried again while she gathered her wallet, cell phone and keys in the first purse she could find; still no answer. With an exasperated sigh, she threw the phone on her bed and motioned to the door. Her mom passed by her bedroom just then, carrying a basket full of freshly-washed clothes. Luckily, Joan peeked out of her doorway a second later, and Helen didn't see her. When she was sure Helen was inside hers and Will's room, Joan exited her room silently and made her way downstairs.
"Mom's upstairs. If —when— she and dad realize we're gone, leave a missed call on my cell," she instructed Kevin in the living room. "I'm going to Adam's first."
"Just clarify something for me, please," Kevin said as Joan walked to the front door: "which vehicle do you plan on taking on this little rescue mission?"
Joan swallowed hard as she instinctively grabbed her mother's car keys from the key hanger beside the door. Kevin was positively horrified now. "This is crazy."
"I'll be okay," Joan said, giving him a reassuring smile. But somehow she wasn't feeling very sure at the moment. She quickly got out of the house and hurriedly got into Helen's car, trying to be as quiet as possible. She inserted the key in the ignition and started the car.
"I am so dead," she said to herself while she put the car on reverse and backed out of the driveway. Turning the steering wheel, she put the car on drive and smoothly made her way down and out of her street.
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She made it to the Rove residence under three minutes. She skidded to a stop right behind Mr. Rove's car and Adam's rusty red pickup truck. As she leapt out of her mom's car, she noticed Mr. Rove standing on the porch, pulling out his house keys.
"Hi, Mr. Rove!" she called, sprinting up the path to the house. Mr. Rove turned and saw her, and he smiled at her.
"Joan Girardi! What a nice surprise! What brings you around this evening? Oh, let me guess…"
Joan grinned, trying to hide the fact that she was frantic and she had little time and patience for gallantries at the moment. "I need to speak to Adam. It's rather urgent. He's here, right?"
Mr. Rove fumbled with a piece of paper he held in his hand. "I'm afraid you just missed him. He left me a note taped to the door." And he handed the paper to Joan. She unfolded it and read:
Hey, Dad: it's 5:56 exactly. Seems I'm going to the concert after all. Dinner's in the microwave and fridge. I'll be back as soon as possible. Don't worry about me. Take care. Love, Adam.
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Five minutes later, Joan was entering the highway to Blakefield. She knew it's not good to drive when angry. But she had no choice. And she couldn't help being angry.
How could Adam have gone to the concert? She had just been talking to him a while ago, and he told her he wasn't going if she wasn't. What made him change his mind? Or had he been lying to her all this time?
This was turning out to be a very distressing night. Luke sneaked out, and in order to bring him back, she had to sneak out too. Her boyfriend went to the concert without telling her. Now she was worried, unnerved, and scared, driving alone at night down a highway she barely knew on her way to a town she didn't remember having visited ever.
A radio station began playing the Deftones's "Be quiet and drive". How appropriate, Joan thought, quickly changing the channel. She wished she at least had asked Kevin to ride beside her, but she hadn't been expecting Adam to not be home.
Stupid Adam. Stupid Luke. Stupid concert!
She didn't know who to blame for this whole mess. All this time she had been trying to do the right thing, just like God told her to. And if it weren't for Troy getting them all tickets, she and Luke wouldn't have had a reason to beg their parents for permission. And if Will and Helen hadn't denied them that permission, Luke wouldn't have made plans to sneak out. And if her friends hadn't agreed to pick him up before the concert, Luke wouldn't be on his way to Blakefield this instant. And if Luke weren't on his way to Blakefield, Joan would still be at home, talking to Adam on the phone. And then Adam wouldn't have ditched her to go to the concert after all!
Joan didn't know who she was angrier at, but she didn't want to think of that right now. She took a deep breath and tried to relax, focusing on the road ahead. There was only one car half a mile ahead of her, and another one about the same distance behind her. She still had two hours to go, all alone. She wasn't even sure how to get to The Edge Arena once she was in Blakefield. Hopefully God would show up and keep her company when she got there.
She came across the sign that said 'Blakefield – 245 miles'. Another radio station was now playing "Blackbird" by The Beatles. At that moment, she thought of Judith.
It had been quite a long time since the last time she had thought of Judith. It had also been a long time since she had heard that song. For some reason, 'Blackbird' reminded her of her Gentle Acres pal; the other half of Joanith. Judith had resembled a blackbird in the inky blackness of her hair, as well as in her carefree personality. She couldn't have been caged; she had always been adventurous, audacious and independent; always flying whenever and wherever she wanted, no matter what. Many times her audacity had gotten her in trouble. But Judith had been happy, in spite of all the trouble. Joan wished she had half the courage and adventurous spirit her friend once had.
"I wish Judith were here," Joan said out loud to no one. She wiped a tear from her cheek and kept driving.
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This whole concert thing will soon come to an end, I promise. I know I've been dragging this too long, but I also promise, the events of these chapters are crucial for the plot and the events that will be unfolding in the future. Bear with me. I'm on a roll. I am very annoying when I'm on a roll.
Beta reader/Editor's note (Mike's note): that was a really nice tribute to the late Judith Montgomery. I know how much Alexz liked that character and I know how awful it was for her to see her favorite new character disappear so quickly.
Hey, maybe at this pace, I will even have the next chapter ready before New Year, too (but don't count on it. I'm sick and my eyes are tired from spending so much time in front of the computer. I haven't bought a New Year's Eve party outfit, and I'm trying to recover for said party before I have to receive the 2005 with a sore throat and a stuffed nose).
So, in case you don't hear again from me until next year, Happy New Year to everyone! Hope 2004 was nice to you and hope this new year brings much joy and good fortune to everyone. Best wishes from the mischievous Miss Chievous. Thank you and good night!
In the darkNess