"Jack, Jack, wake up, Jack!" shouted a voice as something launched itself on top of him. He started awake, muscles tense as he prepared to fend off an attack, when he realized that it was a child who had jumped on him, and the memories of last night came flooding back.
"Jesus, kid, you nearly gave me a heart attack!" he snapped.
"Harley, we told you not to go bother Jack!" said Mrs. Quinzel, racing after her daughter and pulling her off the sofa. "He needs his rest!"
"He's being lazy," snapped Harley. "The sun is up, so it's time for him to be up!"
Jack growled, rubbing his eyes. "Good thing I ain't used to sleeping in," he muttered, throwing the blankets off and sitting up.
"I'll start on breakfast – please don't annoy the boy, Harley," said Mrs. Quinzel. She entered the kitchen but kept the door open, watching Harley closely as she sat down next to Jack on the sofa.
"You wake up this early every morning?" he demanded.
"Uh huh," said Harley, nodding. "Mommy says it's good practice for when I start school this fall. And I'm excited to wake up – every day is full of fun and tons of stuff to do! Don't wanna waste my time sleeping!"
"You'll change your tune when you get a little older, kid, trust me," he muttered, yawning.
"Like today, Mommy and me are going for a walk in the park," continued Harley.
"Maybe, Harley," said her mother from the kitchen. "It's not very nice weather out there. We might stay inside so you don't get all wet."
"I'm not scared of a little rain," said Harley, frowning at the gray sky outside the window. "And I don't want it ruining my walk! Go away, rain!" she snapped, racing over to the window to glare at it.
"You know you can't change the weather by talking to it, right?" asked Jack.
"Nah, I can't," agreed Harley. "Because I'm just a kid." She looked at him. "You're a grown-up, why don't you try? The weather might listen to you."
"I don't think so," retorted Jack.
"C'mon, Jack, I really wanna go on my walk!" she said, stamping her foot. "Please try!"
He sighed, rolling his eyes and standing up to join her at the window. "Hey, rain, beat it," he snapped. "Her highness Princess Harleen Quinzel wants to go for her walk."
"Yeah, that's right!" snapped Harley, not picking up on his sarcasm. "So don't be mean and ruin my day, rain!"
"Talking to the weather again, Harley?" asked her father, entering the room fully dressed in a suit.
"Yeah. But it doesn't look like it wants to listen to me, or Jack," said Harley, coming over to hug her father.
He kissed her. "You keep trying, princess. Don't ever stop trying to do the impossible. Good morning, Jack," he said, smiling at the boy. "How did you sleep?"
"Would have slept better without the kid alarm at the crack of dawn," retorted Jack.
"Well, sorry, but Harley's kinda an uncontrollable bundle of energy," laughed Mr. Quinzel, picking her up. "I sometimes call her our own little Tasmanian Devil, y'know, that character from the Looney Tunes who moves around like a whirlwind, leaving chaos and destruction in its wake."
He put her down with a kiss and she began spinning in a circle, making Tasmanian Devil noises. "Breakfast is ready, Taz," said Mrs. Quinzel, smiling as she popped her head out of the kitchen.
Harley raced over to the table and Jack and Mr. Quinzel followed her, as Mrs. Quinzel placed a plate of pancakes down.
"Hurry up and grab some, Jack, before Harley eats them all," said Mr. Quinzel, smiling at his daughter. "She also has the appetite of the Tasmanian Devil."
Harley gave a roar, and Jack grinned. "So, ya like Looney Tunes cartoons, huh?" he asked.
"Yep," she said, nodding. "They're funny."
"Well, sufferin' succotash!" exclaimed Jack, in a perfect imitation of Sylvester the Cat.
Harley stared at him. "You can do voices!" she cried, giggling in delight. "That's so cool! Do more, do more!"
He continued with a perfect impression of Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd. "What's up, Doc? You wascally wabbit!"
"Wow, Jack!" she said, clearly impressed. "If we have to stay inside because of the rain today, can you teach me to do voices like you?"
"Jack has to come to work with me today, Harley," said Mr. Quinzel. "But maybe when he gets home."
"It's easy – just watch a lotta TV and practice lots," said Jack, smiling at her. "Why doncha do that if it rains today, and you can show me when I get home, how about that?"
"Ok, Jack," she said, nodding. She turned to the window. "You hear that, rain? I guess you can stay if you wanna. I'm gonna learn how to do voices instead. Sufferin' succotash," she repeated. "Sufferin' succotash. Sufferin' succotash."
"Thank you, Jack," sighed Mrs. Quinzel, smiling at her daughter as she stroked her hair back. "I know this isn't going to get at all tiresome anytime soon."
"He's just trying to help, Gladys," said Mr. Quinzel.
"Can Jack stay with us for a long time?" asked Harley. "So he can help me get just as good as doing voices as him?"
"Jack is welcome to stay as long as he needs to," said Mr. Quinzel. "Isn't that right, Gladys?"
Mrs. Quinzel nodded. "Yes, dear," she sighed, gathering up the dishes.
"I'll bet I really impress you by the time you get home today," said Harley, as Mr. Quinzel went to get his and Jack's jacket.
"I'll bet you will," agreed Jack. "I mean, you've already got the Tasmanian Devil down pat."
She roared at him, grinning. "Bye, princess," said Mr. Quinzel, picking up Harley.
"Bye, Daddy," she said, kissing him. "Have a good day!"
Mr. Quinzel put her down, and she held out her arms for Jack to pick her up. "Have a good day!" she repeated, as Jack obeyed, and she planted a kiss on his cheek. "Bye, Jack!"
"Bye, kid," he said, putting her down. "Have fun today."
"I always do!" she said, grinning. She waved them off as they headed down the stairs of the apartment and out to Mr. Quinzel's car.
"She's a good kid," said Mr. Quinzel, as he climbed into the driver's seat. "A handful, but a good kid."
"Yeah," agreed Jack, nodding. He sat in silence as they drove, and Mr. Quinzel glanced at him.
"You ok?" he asked.
Jack shrugged. "Just…nervous, I guess. I've never had a job before, not a real one, and my old man always told me that I was…a slow learner. And a screw up. I just don't wanna disappoint you…"
"You won't, son," interrupted Mr. Quinzel. "Everyone's nervous their first day, and you'll probably make some mistakes, but that's all part of learning the job."
Jack nodded, but said nothing. "My old man was in cars too," said Mr. Quinzel. "And my first day working with him, I blew up a brand new engine." He laughed. "I thought I had blown up the whole car – there was smoke everywhere, and the alarm went off, so the fire department came rushing over…and my old man was as steamed as that engine. I'll never forget the look on his face!"
He grinned at Jack. "So you can't do any worse than me."
Jack managed a smile. "What did your Dad to do you?" he asked.
"What do you mean?" asked Mr. Quinzel.
"I mean as punishment for screwing up and blowing up the engine," said Jack.
"He didn't punish me," said Mr. Quinzel. "It was an accident."
Jack shrugged. "My old man would have belted me good," he muttered.
Mr. Quinzel was silent. "Nobody is going to belt you, Jack," he said, gently. "Not anymore. You do know that…people don't treat each other like that, don't you? With violence and threats of violence?"
"All the people I've ever met do," retorted Jack. "You'd think you'd know the truth as an adult. It's great to give kids all that crap about being decent and kind to each other, but out in the real world…you realize it's all just a joke."
"No, it's not, Jack," said Mr. Quinzel, gently. "We choose the kind of people we want to be, no matter how life treats us. And you can choose to be a man to be feared, like your father, or a decent human being. And I hope…now that you're staying with people who…aren't all bad…that you'll make the right choice."
Jack said nothing, staring out the window again. "I do wanna be a good man, Mr. Quinzel," he said at last. "But I don't know how."
Mr. Quinzel smiled. "Well, the first day's always rough, like I said," he murmured. "But you'll get the hang of it, Jack. I promise."