katydid13: Thank you

rejazzz: Just you wait and see.

Brown eyed Girl 75: So glad to heat that! Viv getting all nasty just came to me, she's so fiery, and did I tell you I thought of making Jimmy the one she fought with?

ooOoo

Come all ye friends I'll sit you down and sing a doleful ditty. Twas on a day in April month we started from the city. We planned a day or two at Mars we stall ward men were chosen, to remove old Charlie from Angle Pond... who fell in when the pond was frozen

Concerning Charlie Horse- Great Big Sea

ooOoo

The two of them returned to the dorms, Jim had told me, but not for long. God, that sounded a bit like Sweeney Todd the musical, didn't it? They'd gone out for drinks, and gotten sloshed. Apparently, Jim told me, Jack wanted my phone number and wanted to ask me out for drinks. I told him good luck, my phone isn't connected.

Jim and I had become fast friends... I guess you could say he was the only friend I'd ever really had. It was only a week or two before he brought me home to his place to meet his dad, Donald, and his two younger brothers. I'll tell you right now, Donald looked like he'd been through the ringer. I didn't ask Jim why his father looked so down, since it wasn't my place to ask. I figured he'd tell me in his own time.

I've still not told him about my family, in fact he doesn't really need to know quite yet. I mean, of course, Jim knows I'm from Newfoundland, I'm not that cryptic! And he knows I have an older brother, but other than that I haven't said anything.

Working at the arena isn't bad. I mean, sure, ten hours sucks the life right out of you but slowly you gain it back. The pay isn't bad, it's getting so that I can afford some basic food, like pasta or some soup, but I'm still struggling to come up with quarters for the laundry machines. Oh well, turn socks inside out and you can wear them for another day. If push came to shove I could wash my clothes in the kitchen sink. My mom used to do that, and then when it was really cold she would warm our underwears in the oven. A lot of people in our neighbourhood would do that; I remember one time little John Warner came to school walking kinda funny. Turns out his dad had burned his underwear from turning the oven on too high, so he had to go to school without any clean underwears. And other kids said he was walking that way because doing up the zipper on his pants he got... well, you figure it out.

I smile when I think about that because for once, the attention wasn't on me. Who wants to be known for the fact that their daddy dropped off an ice flow when they were five years old? Sometimes I used to ask why my daddy couldn't have died doing something heroic, like fighting in the war. Mom said it was because my daddy wasn't made for war, he was made for sealing and fishing, and it was a big risk whenever he went out on the ice. Sometimes you're lucky, and sometimes you're not. We just happened upon a string of bad luck.

Is that what I'm supposed to tell people? My dad died thanks to a stroke of bad luck? Yeah, real ingenious, that is. I would be sent to the Principal's office at least four times a week for pushing other kids in the dirt for saying that my dad died so he wouldn't have to be around my mom anymore. They had started saying that my mother was a good-for-nothing floozy and that he was happy to go.

That was a lie, and everyone knew it. I would stay in the office for the remainder of the day and then Gary would come and pick me up and walk home with me. I would tell him the whole story, and sometimes I'd cry, but he'd just put his arm around me and listen to me. He was good that way, I didn't know very many people who would do that. Most of them would laugh and run ahead, but not my brother.

I kept everything Gary sent me. I'd take his letters to work with me and read them in my spare time, if there really was any. It was a slow day at the snack bar and nearly my time to go home when I pulled the letter out of my pocket and started reading.

Viv,

Believe me, you're not missing much here. Mom is still fucking pissed at you for leaving, and I don't think she'll ever really understand why you've gone, so I wouldn't bother coming back for a while. She's shut herself up in her room with her work whenever I've come home (she seems to think I had something to do with it, she's right, but she doesn't need to know that).

Work is still some shit, different day. Bane and I managed to catch about a crate of oysters the other day. Seems the oysters have suddenly appeared now that you've moved. Not to say you're a Jonah, cause if that were true, you'd need to be dead in order for 'the curse' to be broken. Maybe they sensed your resentment and need to leave and steered clear.

Right, sure, and cod have learned to fly. Did I tell you that Bane's wife is pregnant again? Five girls already... he's pretty sure this one's a boy. He said that about Abigail, Michelle, Linda, and Debbie, and Kim he thought would be a hermaphrodite. Nope, he ended up with another girl, and he wants a boy so bad. Says he'll name the kid Junior if it's a boy, Marcie says she'll kill him if he does.

I've moved into your old room, and it's not that bad. Never realized you kept all your old pictures of Mom and Dad in there, and that record collection of yours? Where the hell did that come from? I thought Mom cashed in all our records to support us. Did you sneak a few or did she cash in something else? I found this picture of you and me somewheres in the house, thought you might want it.

Oh, and don't worry, I haven't...

"What'cha got your nose buried in?" a voice interrupted her reading.

"Letter," she looked up and saw none other than that brat of a hockey player staring at her. Jack was his name, wasn't it? "Not that you would care."

"Who's it from?"

"My brother," she folded the letter again and stuck it in her back pocket. "Again, I don't see why you would care so much."

"You just looked kinda down..."

"Oh yeah, and since you care so much it's a great opening line, isn't it?" I shook my head.

"Not at all," he answered me.

"Sure it's not. Did you want something or can I get back to what I was doing?"

"Nope, I'm good."

"That's nice," I glanced back to my letter and waited till he left me alone.

Oh, and don't worry, I haven't told Mom whatt else you had planned, and those packages I send you? Sorry if it's not much but it's all I can really afford, the letter read. At least instant mashed potatoes and instant soup is cheap. Buy it in bulk and you're set for at least a month, did you know that? Miss you like crazy, sis. Hope you're well.

Gary.

"Miss you too, bro," I whispered to myself as I clocked out and and grabbed my backpack. I went out the front of the arena and started the 2 mile walk home. I've walked farther than two miles home before, so don't think I can't handle it. It's not that bad. Sure it sucks when there's rain, but there's always rain, what can you do? Yell at the sky?

I was nearly home when, lo and behold, it started raining. Lucky for me I usually keep a couple of garbage bags in my backpack just in case. Come in useful when you don't have money for a rain jacket. I quickly pulled one out and draped it over meself before starting on walking again.

A few minutes after I started walking again a small station wagon pulled up and the window rolled down.

"You want a ride?"

Same guy... Jack I think his name was.

"No thanks, I'm almost home."

"Come on, it's pissing rain."

"Hadn't noticed that Sherlock!" I shouted over the rain.

"Where's your jacket?"

"You're looking at it!"

"A garbage bag? Get in here, you'll catch your death of cold if you're out there much longer!"

Shrugging, I stripped my backpack off and got into the car. I don't know what possessed me to do it, but I did. At least it was warm, and it was dry.

"Where do you live?" he asked me.

"Just up the street here," I pointed to the apartment building just up ahead. It was a nice building, and I was able to haggle the rent down to a reasonable amount until I could really stand on my own two feet.

"Really? I'm in the same building," he remarked as I watched his hands run over the steering wheel. He handled the car smoothly, I noticed. He wasn't jerking the steering or stepping on the brakes every two seconds. I think that was put of the reason Gary gave up trying to teach Mom to drive, and really, who needs a car when everything you really need is less than a mile away by foot or biking?

"Ain't that something?" I whispered, almost shocked.

"Sure is," he smiled as he turned the corner into the communal parking lot. Once he's parked and gotten out of the car, he reached over the hood and held out his hand.

"Start over?" he asked.

I smiled at him and accepted the friendly gesture.

"I'm Jack O'Callahan," he told me.

"Vivianne Hallet," I smiled back at him, and walked with him into the building before the rain soaked through me anymore than it already had.

Hey Gary, remember that jag-off I wrote to you about earlier? I penned to my brother later that night. Maybe he's not as bad as I thought...