In the Know: Chap. 2
Disclaimer: I own NOTHING, NADA, ZIP, BUPKISS! Not the MIB, not the Centre, not the obvious riff on 'Back to the Future' (actually think it'll be a bit crossed over as well), NOTHING. Well, okay, so one cryptic time traveler with a McFly complex (though not without good reason).
Note: I've decided to make last chapter a prologue.
INTRO:
ESTABLISHING SHOT: Aerial view of the top of a retreating thunderhead, with flashes of lightning sporadically going off.
Somewhere, a man clears his throat: this is the NARRATOR.
NARRATOR: "It is sometimes said that if attraction between two people has existed for long enough, was mutual and especially if it was redirected for any reason at all for a substantial period, then anything could be the hair trigger that would bring it to the forefront of ones mind. My parents were big believers in this theory, though they always disagreed what worked better. My father held fast to his own experience with music, while my mother took the Freudian route and stuck fast with dreams being stronger."
ZOOM IN (slow counter-clockwise spin) through the clouds into a rain shower to reveal the campus of a large school.
NARRATOR: "The story you are about to read or hear, depending on visualization style, it that of my family: me, my parents, my sister, my sons… actually, everyone that has ever had my surname is connected to this tale in some way. We are… aberrations: we appeared in history very suddenly and have a habit of experiencing very strange things."
PAN DOWN to see though a window that has rain sheeting off of it. The interior looks like a classroom. Currently there are a number of very bored teenagers.
NARRATOR: "We, after all, have been called many things, but none so commonly or aptly as our name suggests."
"We… are simply mysteries."
October 11th, 2001, Torrington Academy
In the 10th month of the first year of the Third Millennium ante Diem, the world was said to have changed. But in the small town of Sherbrooke, Quebec, the only things that were changing were the perceptions of two teenagers about the relationship between them… and the impact of these changes on those around them.
Martin Mystery was bored. Music class was usually pretty boring, but today was probably going to be the biggest yawn fest of the entire year. Instead of actually doing anything on the instruments (which was a shame: he could play a pretty good 'Over the Hills and Far Away' on the recorders), the teacher had set up a series of "Music of the World" classes. In short, every day they had to listen to a few pieces of music from the same general part of the world and then write up a short paper that detailed the similarities, differences and general styles of music from that region.
The first region was going to be North-western Europe. The song they started with was a rather old compilation from the British Isles, more specifically from Ireland: 'The Star of the County Down'.
'Funny…' thought Martin. "Both of Diana's parents were Irish."
This set about a train of thought that had successfully been buried for all of four years. The course and subject matter of the song didn't help matters at all, bringing forth a veritable river of longings and wistful fantasies that until now had been repressed, sanitized and otherwise redirected practically into oblivion.
Later, during lunch, Martin was still humming the tune between bites of his tuna salad sandwich. He was staring vacantly toward the nerd table… an action made even more troubling when one considered exactly who qualified. Sitting there, among a horde of future scientists and bean counters, was the one girl that he had developed his rakish ways to expressly avoid. Long brown hair framed her face, bangs clipped to the side. Fair skin shone like polished opal. And her eyes… were like the sea, clear and glistening.
And like the sea, they were also green.
"Hey, Martin. Yoo hoo! Earth to Martin!" A voice broke him out of his trance, and he looked left to see the grinning face of one Alistair Benbrook, fellow Anglophone and much more accomplished womanizer.
"What?" Asked Martin, slightly annoyed.
"You've been humming that tune for the last 15 minutes and if I know the song, I can guess why." Alistair did know the song by coincidence, being in Martins music class. He looked toward the nerd table, twirling a finger in the general direction. "Now… which 'sweet colleen' with 'nut brown hair' might you be fancying?"
Martin groaned and hung his head, ready for whatever appalled comment his companion was ready to make at his taste in girls. What he got instead was a soft chuckle. "I can see the attraction. I'd go after Ms. Lombard myself, but I'm not into nerds. But what was all that flirting with Jenny then, not to mention trying so hard to copy me?"
Martin raised his head in slight anger at his companion not really seeing the obvious and pulled Alistair's head in close. "What do you think: she's my STEPSISTER!" Martin whispered harshly. He glanced again at Diana and then added in a slightly softer voice "Besides, what if she doesn't feel the same way?"
Mr. Benbrook clucked his tongue and shook his head amusedly "Walk with me, talk with me." As they walked along the cloisters outside the cafeteria, Alistair explained the plan as water dripped from the roof rim. "You just have to tell her how you feel and take it from there. If she doesn't take it well, expect nothing worse than a slap in the face. If she does take it well and reciprocate… well, that gets a little complicated, especially the way you two are related." Alistair rolled his paper bag into a ball and threw it into a trashcan. " But the way I see it, if you never ask, you'll never know."
At his point in time, they were no more than four good-sized paces from where Diana was milling with some other smart people, discussing some big project or something. "What's that supposed to mean?" asked Martin, getting frustrated at his companions habit of speaking in riddles, which, for Martin, meant anything more than two syllable words (the guy was getting worse than Java, and even the Caveman was coming along nicely in the grammar department).
"This." With that, Benbrook turned to face Martin… and promptly shoved him in the direction of the crowd that included Diana. He tumbled into the group, creating a sort of domino effect that eventually reached Ms. Lombard. By that time, however, Martin had regained his balance and, in a feat of gymnastic prowess the kind of which not seen on the premises for nearly forty years, slid one leg flat to lower himself in a manner reminiscent of a Russian dance and caught the falling teen in both arms.
When he rose again, he was holding Diana cradle-style in those aforementioned arms. It was not long before they were both red faced and Diana was yelling at her stepbrother to put her down. He did so. "Well excuse me for saving you! If it wasn't for me you'd probably be on crutches for a week."
"Crutches? A WEEK? Haven't you ever heard of girls being light on their feet?" Diana sounded like her voice was getting warmed up for another shouting match.
"Well, with your sugar habit, one can never tell." Martin didn't quite know why he did things like this to set Diana off. He suspected it was a defence mechanism against various "unwholesome" feelings that crept up the back of his throat when they were less than four feet apart. That and it was sometimes a form of perverse entertainment.
"WHAT? Of all the idiotic, stupid, thick headed things I could imagine you saying, THIS is probably the worst!" Indeed the shouting match came, but Martin did not feel the inclination to devolve into another pointless argument.
"Look, Diana… I'm…" But Martin did not get to finish his apology, for at that moment a new voice interrupted the conversation.
"Hey Diana." This was Marvin, surname unknown. It must be taken to account that if not for a few small differences in physical appearance and a major personality shift, the two young men would be very difficult to tell apart. Perhaps this would go toward an explanation of Diana's crush on him.
"Oh, hello Marvin." Said Diana, in a voice that she reserved for those males who she was consciously trying to attract the attention of as she turned away from Martin to face the new arrival. For some reason, although considered marginally cute and very flirty by the world at large, Martin usually found it plain annoying… mostly because she never used it on him. "How go things about Friday?"
Oh, yes. Thought Martin. The infamous date with her dreamboat she's talked about non-stop for two weeks straight. However, perhaps this wasn't the kind of news Diana was expecting. "Diana… well, about Friday…it's…" A low growling emanated from behind Diana, sending a frightened look to Marvin's face. "Well, I won't be able to go, very busy after all. Bye!" Rushed the boy before running away through the trees on the soggy lawn.
Diana, eyes wide in surprise, turned toward the apparent source of the sound: Martin. "Why did you do that?"
"Do what? He was obviously going to break off the date; something must have spooked him."
"I agree, something sure spooked him: you!" She pointed a finger straight at his chest and resumed ranting. "This is just so typical: every time I get a chance at romance, YOU do something to ruin it for me. If I didn't know any better I'd swear that you…" she began muttering at this point "No… lets not think like that." She faced Martin again, but as she was preparing to continue, she felt that something was missing. Namely, the floor they were standing on.
The teens fell, not through fire and water like some others (though that did occasionally happen), but down into a murky void, eventually hitting a dark marble floor with no more force than if they had fallen only a few feet. A few metres away landed Java in full cafeteria kitchen safety gear.
"Well Martin, what were you saying about crutches… Martin?" It was that point in time that Diana noticed that the floor wasn't as hard as it was supposed to be. This was because Martin had broken her fall and certain… things were muffling his voice. She scrambled to her feet, blushing like a peeled beet as Martin got up into something approaching standing. His face was a blank slate with deer-in-headlights eyes and a scrunched up mouth that screamed "gormless".
"Am I, perhaps, interrupting something?" Came a voice from the semi-gloom, being of course the Omni-present "M.O.M." sitting behind her desk. She appeared innocent enough… but still.
"Interrupting?" Diana was quite literally shocked, embarrassed and appalled… mostly at herself. But with Java's arrival things seemed to blow over. Billy handed out the mission planners, where Diana noticed one thing right away. "Hawaii?" Her attention was grabbed because it was a known and confirmable fact that the islands were considered some of the most romantic places on the planet. Herself… in a romantic setting… with Martin? She didn't know what was going to crack first: her sanity or her carefully constructed psychological barriers.
Martin, on the other hand, had zeroed in on something of much more interest to him. "Alien Lava Men! This is going to be so cool! When do we leave?" His was the boyish glee of someone whose mother had just set him lose in a confectioners shop with ten dollars and no regard for potential property damage.
"Saturday Morning, so I suggest you gets acquainted with whatever you need to know before then, because we need Java elsewhere." There was really no need to prepare them to any great degree for this mission.
After all, they wouldn't be the ones doing the actual fieldwork.
Now: The Lyrics
The Star of the County Down
Near to Banbridge Town, in the County Down
One morning in July,
Down a boreen green came a sweet colleen,
And she smiled as she passed me by;
Oh, she looked so neat from her two white feet
To the sheen of her nut-brown hair,
Sure the coaxing elf, I'd to shake myself
To make sure I was standing there
Chorus:
Oh, from Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay,
And from Galway to Dublin town,
No maid I've seen like the brown colleen
That I met in the County Down.
As she onward sped I shook my head
And I gazed with a feeling quare,
And I said, says I, to a passer-by,
"Who's the maid with the nut-brown hair?"
Oh, he smiled at me, and with pride says he,
"That's the gem of Ireland's crown,
She's young Rosie McCann from the banks of the Bann,
She's the Star of the County Down."
Chorus:
Oh, from Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay,
And from Galway to Dublin town,
No maid I've seen like the brown colleen
That I met in the County Down.
I've traveled a bit, but never was hit
Since my roving career began;
But fair and square I surrendered there
To the charms of young Rose McCann.
I'd a heart to let and no tenant yet
Did I meet with in shawl or gown,
But in she went and I asked no rent
From the Star of the County Down.
Chorus:
Oh, from Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay,
And from Galway to Dublin town,
No maid I've seen like the brown colleen
That I met in the County Down.
At the crossroads fair I'll be surely there
And I'll dress in my Sunday clothes
With my shoes shined bright and my hat just right
To win the heart of the nut-brown Rose.
No pipe I'll smoke, no horse I'll yoke
Though with rust my plough turns brown,
Till a smiling bride by my own fireside
Sits the Star of the County Down.