Chapter 3: Suds
Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep
Light tinted the darkness with orange. Squidward's eyes gradually opened. He then shut them when the ceiling's lights poked too hard. He recognized the smell of disinfectants. He tilted his head to the right until the rainbows in the dark orange of his lids faded. He opened his eyes again and saw the rails guarding the blue mattress. The white-walled room's floor and ceiling were spotless. He took a deep breath. He tilted his head to the left. He saw the green line on the monitor's black screen sharply rise and descend. He looked to the bed's front. SpongeBob was gripping the rails and gasped. Patrick stared at nothingness and occasionally glanced at the octopus' left leg. Squidward sighed.
"He's okay!" SpongeBob beamed. His eyes moistened and he stepped closer to Squidward's head. "W-we thought you were a goner."
Squidward gazed at the sky through the window. "How wrecked is my house?" His face was deadpan. He attempted to cross his arms but the nurse gently lowered them back to his sides.
The nurse glanced at the door. "You shouldn't be moving too much. The doctor hasn't applied the medicine yet." She stepped to the computer and typed in Squidward's new status.
SpongeBob's smile lessened. He clasped his hands together and stood straight. "We got good news and bad news." He tightened the grip of his own hands and bit his tongue.
"What's the bad news?" Squidward frowned.
"A lot of the tiki got damaged. The workers said that they found the most debris in the kitchen. Some of your paintings got broken too." SpongeBob's legs moved slightly. His gaze fell.
Squidward clenched his teeth and his fists. The urge to give his two neighbors the pain of a thousand jellyfish stings rose in him like lava in a volcano. His downfall was like a play and he had unwittingly acted his own part. He glanced at the door and at the nurse. He felt the anesthesia in his legs. 'Now now, Squiddy. There's no point in digging your grave further.' He took a deep breath.
SpongeBob smiled awkwardly. "The good news is that all the repairs got covered by your home insurance. Some rooms didn't look that bad." He stopped clasping his hands and remained still.
Squidward loosened the tension in his body. The eyes of his neighbors now looked like they were filled with sympathy. The bittersweetness returned. "How long will I be stuck here?" He looked up at the clock hanging on the wall.
Spongebob regained his signature smile. "Very soon. The doctor will give you the medicine. I heard it heals almost like magic." He glanced at the gauze on Squidward's legs.
Squidward gazed at his legs. THUD He vividly remembered the sensation of paralysis he felt after he had collapsed down the stairs. His brows furrowed. 'Too bad there's no magic to make these idiots leave me alone.'
Patrick smiled warmly. "Don't worry, Squid. We'll make sure you feel better." His belly touched Squidward's legs accidentally and he then stepped away. He glanced at the cabinet and the small medicine containers near the sink. 'What food does Squid like?'
"I know this whole mess is my fault. We'll make it up for you. I promise." SpongeBob's wholehearted smile nearly shone like the sunlight coming through the window.
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Several minutes later…
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The doctor opened the door and stepped into the room. He was holding a bottle that contained a blue liquid. "Hello, Mr. Tentacles." A sweat drop ran down his head. "Sorry for the wait. I had to look everywhere to find the potion." He placed the bottle near the sink. He washed his hands before taking a glass cup from the cabinet. He opened the bottle and, while carefully looking at the cup's measurement units, poured the blue liquid until the cup was half-full. He walked up to Squidward and held out the cup. "Drink this."
Squidward grasped the cup. He could not recognize the blue liquid. "Is this medicine new?"
"Yep. It was imported from another country. Certified by the drug administration." The doctor closed the cabinet and the bottle.
Squidward drank the potion. It tasted like berry juice and milk with dashes of jelly. The liquid sizzled in his mouth and throat. The bubbles that formed shined blue and thus made his head glow like a lantern. He glowered at Patrick when he heard his giggles. He gave the cup to the nurse. When the lights faded, he no longer felt pins and needles on his arms.
"Try moving." The doctor walked up to the monitor and observed the green lines.
Squidward moved his arms with ease. His legs were still under the anesthesia's grip.
The doctor took note of Squidward's movements and stepped to the computer. He quickly typed the results into certain documents. From the corner of his eye, he saw Squidward opening his mouth. "We'll give you a pill that'll undo the anesthesia on your legs."
Squidward closed his mouth and stared at the clock. His visions of the broken furniture and tarnished self-portraits filled him with dread. The yellow and pink spots near his eye corners converted that dread into an oil that fueled his anger. He clung to his fiendish conceptions of the two neighbors like an overboard sailor clinging to a lifeboat.
The nurse walked to the cabinet. She took out a pill bottle and another cup. She cleaned the previous cup and put it away. She filled the new cup with filtered sink water and took a pill from the bottle. She walked to Squidward and gave both to him.
Squidward downed the cup of water with the pill. His legs no longer felt like burdens chained to him. After a few seconds, his feet felt the coldness of the bed front's rails. He put the blanket to the side, stood on the floor, and walked around the room. However, his legs were trembling and he still felt some tingling. He avoided SpongeBob and Patrick from further polluting his vision.
"I recommend you shouldn't move too much. It'll take a few hours for the medicine to fully heal your injuries. You'll be sent home on a wheelchair. When your legs stop feeling ticklish, you'll be free to move around as much as you want." The doctor glanced at the clock and smiled slightly. "You're actually quite lucky. You were in a coma for only two hours." He gazed at SpongeBob and Patrick. "What made it more of a miracle was how speedy these two brought you here. If they brought you even a few minutes later, your injuries could've worsened and would've left you knocked out for much longer."
Squidward laid on the bed, glanced at the pads connecting him to the monitor, and meditated on the monitor's beeps. He could not avoid the neighbors' faces and thus glared at them. 'They're gonna keep doing nice things so they could excuse their stupidity.' He folded his arms.
SpongeBob's throat became heavy at the sight of Squidward's glare. His mind reacted by uncovering memories of his contradictory actions. 'I need to help Squid more. I can't be so reckless.' His gaze fell again.
The smell of disinfectants and the whiteness of the walls were wearing out Patrick's senses. He felt like he was inside the compartment of a robot. He gazed at a large coral piece and a group of jellyfish through the window. Imagined fragrances, cakes, and pleasant music pushed away his unpleasant surroundings. 'Maybe Squid won't be so grumpy once he's comfortable.' He remembered how his first birthday cake had erased the negative thoughts he had had. The tick from the clock snapped him back to reality. He swallowed the saliva that built up in his mouth.
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Thirty-six minutes later…
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Squidward was sitting on the wheelchair. The left window in the tiki's music room was open. He was blocking out the thoughts of his neighbors and the construction noise by playing his clarinet. However, the remains of his self-portraits prevented him from rising above the bittersweetness.
The construction workers were clenching their tools ever since Squidward had begun playing; the clarinet's notes were like whiplashes.
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SpongeBob and Patrick were standing near the scattered remains of the reef blower.
SpongeBob was gazing at the wrecked tiki. "Maybe I shouldn't use reef blowers anymore." He glanced at the bubblestand. "It's too dangerous." He took hold of a reef blower piece and felt its sharpness. "It'll just make more messes than cleaning 'em."
Patrick shook his head. "Don't think like that." He gently took the reef blower piece and tossed it to the ground. "Everybody's gotta clean their home some time, y'know. Even a guy like me tidies the living room from time to time." He pointed at the pineapple. "If you come back from work, wouldn't you want your home to look nice so you could relax?" He smiled cordially.
"Yeah, but I was relaxed when I tried to clean my lawn. I didn't expect all this crazy stuff to happen. It's good to play safe sometimes." SpongeBob kept looking at the tiki. He paid attention to the frequency of the wrong notes in the clarinet song. He eventually detected the sorrowful tone of the music.
"But wouldn't you want your home to be inviting?" Patrick sculpted a sand pile to the form of a normal-looking house. "Gary lives there too. I heard it isn't too healthy for a snail to live in a dirty house." He noticed the direction of SpongeBob's gaze. "Screw what I said before." He kicked the sand house. He put a hand on SpongeBob's shoulder. "All I'm saying is that you shouldn't stress about this. You didn't intend for Squid to get hurt by the reef blower and that bubble thing." He stopped smiling and looked at SpongeBob directly in the eye.
SpongeBob bit his lip. "Pat, you don't get it. It was partly my fault. I didn't fully prepare Squid for bubbleblowing. I'm still not sure how Squid feels about me right now. I gotta be more careful." He walked towards the pineapple. "Just wait a sec." He glanced at Patrick a final time and held up his index finger. "I'll get something and be right back." He ran to his home.
Patrick leaned against a sand pile and sunk into the sand's warmness. His head poked through the other side of the sand pile. His eyes became heavy. He stared at the tiki until he visualized it getting blown away.
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Two minutes later…
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SpongeBob returned with a hammer. He pulled out the nails from the bubblestand by using the back of the hammer's head.
Patrick slightly widened his eyes. No predictions in his mind were similar to what he was seeing. "Why're you doing this?" He emerged from the sand pile, wiped away the sand from his stomach and his pants, and put a hand on his chin.
"I can't have this business anymore. I lost the bet." SpongeBob shook his head. "It could hurt Squid again and other people if I keep it anyway." He glanced at the bubblestand's sign and the dropped soap bottle. He felt like he was ripping apart his own employee hat. He furrowed his brows. 'I gotta do this.'
Patrick sat on a rock. He watched the construction workers' hands effortlessly polish the tiki's walls and SpongeBob's hands shakily pull out the nails. After several seconds, he laid on the ground back-first.
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A minute later…
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Patrick stood up, looked down, and smiled contently at the sand angel he had made. He squinted when he saw a sparkle coming from the sand angel's center. After a few seconds of staring, he dug through the sand angel and discovered a blank paper with a soft golden glow. He picked up the paper and gazed at it until he perceived his reflection on the paper. His eyesight became consumed by the golden sheet and its sparkles. He stood still for so long that he nearly drooled.
SpongeBob organized the planks and the sign into a neat pile. 'This'll make Squid happy.' He smiled slightly. He looked around and an awkward pause ensued. His plans for today had escaped his clearest memories.
"Sponge, come over here. You gotta see this." The wonder Patrick felt made his voice unsteady.
SpongeBob turned around, saw the glowing paper, and gasped. "What is that?" He ran to Patrick and goggled at the paper. He probed it. The paper felt like tin-foil. A light bulb lit up. "Wasn't it inside the reef blower?"
Patrick shrugged. "I just found it here."
SpongeBob gathered the nearby reef blower pieces into a pile. He slipped the paper into the pile's bottom. The metal pieces then glowed in the same manner that the reef blower had had. "It was in the reef blower…" His eyes widened.
Patrick leaned on another sand pile and his eyes became heavy again. To stave his boredom, he pulled the paper out of the metal pile. His eyes widened when more sparkles appeared on the paper. He glanced at a sand pile and mistook it for a large ice cream. His mouth watered.
The paper flashed. The upper part of a nearby sand pile transformed to chocolate ice cream.
Patrick licked his lips. He devoured the ice cream and spat out bits of sand.
SpongeBob gaped at the paper. He picked it up and glanced at the metal pile. Another light bulb lit up. "No wonder the reef blower exploded." He picked up a charred bolt, wrapped it with the paper, and squeezed them together. The paper did not react. His pensiveness prevented him from smiling.
"I don't get it." Patrick scratched his head.
SpongeBob dropped the charred bolt. He pointed at the metal pile. "There's no way a normal reef blower can explode like that. The paper must've got into the blower somehow and made it malfunction." He folded the paper and tucked it into his pocket. He noticed that Squidward stopped playing his clarinet.
Patrick walked to the tiki and felt its cracked exterior wall. A light bulb lit up. "Why don't we just fix his house with that thing?" He grinned and snatched the paper from SpongeBob's pocket.
"Pat, don't! We don't know all the dangerous things it's capable of!" SpongeBob bit his lip. He seized the paper and got into a tug-of-war with Patrick. He felt like he was defusing a bomb. His arms trembled.
Patrick looked at the plank pile and the metal pile. "Didn't you break the stand and talk about that reef blower 'cause you cared for Squid? Don't you wanna help him?" His face became more solemn as he used more of his arm strength. He then tugged the paper, causing SpongeBob to lose his grip and fall to the ground. He then carefully pulled him up.
"Can't argue with that." SpongeBob shrugged, remained smileless, and gulped.
Patrick held out the magic paper, closed his eyes, and concentrated on the image of an immaculate tiki with restored art pieces. "Open sesame!" He opened his eyes widely and tightened his grip on the paper.
After hearing Patrick's magical phrase, SpongeBob could not resist giggling.
The magic paper flashed. The tiki transformed to its former state.
S-S-S-S-S
"We're done already?"
"I think so. Let's go, we're real busy today."
Voices from outside and inside the tiki were heard. Heavy footsteps suddenly emerged and then quieted after a minute.
Squidward looked up from his music sheets and saw the restored self-portraits. He gasped. He swiftly wheeled to the portraits and felt them. The paintings had the same texture as before. "Those workers must've done a really good job." He smiled.
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SpongeBob saw a group of jellyfish where the adults were guiding the younger members. "Pat, I got an idea. Why don't we just help Squid without the paper?" He grinned.
"'Kay." Patrick gave the paper and looked in the music room's direction. "What do you plan on doing?"
"We'll just keep him company and do some fun stuff in his home to cheer him up. I think he's still mad at us for getting him injured, though." SpongeBob skipped to the front door. He quickly folded the paper and tucked it into his pocket. He knocked on the door and then repeatedly leaned back and forth.
CRREEEAAAK
Squidward opened the front door and scowled at SpongeBob. "I think you're quite aware about who caused this." He pointed at the wheelchair. "Stay out!"
SLAM
Patrick walked up to SpongeBob. "How did it go?"
"Not good. Like I said, he's still mad." SpongeBob smiled awkwardly and scratched his head. "He probably doesn't want to see us 'cause he's scared we're gonna hurt him again." He put a hand on his chin, looked towards the ground, and began to walk in circles.
Patrick watched a coral piece land on his rock's lawn. "Why not surprise Squid by bringing gifts he'll like? He'll forgive us." He smiled confidently. The tastes of his previous birthday presents lingered.
"Good idea!" SpongeBob did a thumbs-up. He thought of how the anger building up in Squidward will cool off when he comes in contact with musical notes and paint buckets. "I know what Squid'll like." He raced in a certain direction.
Patrick caught up with SpongeBob.
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Twenty minutes later…
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Squidward, now in the living room, was warming up his arms for more practice by moving them in circular motions. His wheelchair had caused his bouts of dance practice to be unusually strenuous.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
The speediness of the knocks gave away who was behind the door. Squidward groaned. His hands balled into fists at the thought of being stuck in his mediocre lifestyle. 'If they find out about the competition, those fools will probably want to compete. If I wanna win that contest, I can't show them what I'm doing.' He turned towards the TV and noticed that the current news report was about a flu outbreak in another county. His practice had caused sweat to run down his back in several drops. A light bulb lit up and he smirked. 'It won't matter if they wanna do something nice for me, they'll probably wanna annoy me anyway.' He snatched an ice pack from the refrigerator's freezer and put it on his head. He quickly wheeled to his bedroom and took out a strong cologne. He opened the small bottle and sniffed its opening. He sneezed. "Perfect." He tucked the cologne into his shirt pocket and wheeled back to the living room. 'Once they leave, I gotta practice more to make up for my legs.'
S-S-S-S-S
Patrick, while holding a small can and staring into space, was standing before the tiki's front door. His thoughts were consumed by the emptiness of his grumbling stomach.
SpongeBob was holding a large bag. "Pat, remember our plan?" He smiled awkwardly as he poked Patrick's shoulder. He then pointed at the tiki's backyard. "We could eat later. We gotta focus on Squid first." He gently pulled Patrick's arm.
"Oh yeah." A memory emerged from the sea of food images. Patrick regained his senses and grinned. "There's no way Squid can't accept these gifts." He ran ahead of SpongeBob.
The two stood before the back door.
"We'll go in at the same time, okay?" SpongeBob's excitement manifested by his running in place. His loose grip caused his bag to sway.
"Gotcha." Patrick nodded and got into the position of an olympic runner.
"One…" SpongeBob could hear his own heartbeat. "Two..." He struggled to stand still; resisting the urge to barge the door was like pushing an incoming boulder. "Three!"
S-S-S-S-S
SpongeBob and Patrick barged into the living room. "Surprise!" they shouted and held out what they were holding.
Squidward slowly turned around with half-closed eyes. His gaze was downward as he coughed and sniffed. He shakily covered his mouth with his arm when he sneezed. He adjusted his ice pack and made eye contact with his neighbors. His feigning of illness created a mask that was as thick as a fog. "Hey," he droned.
SpongeBob widened his eyes. "Squid, what's wrong?" He slowly walked towards Squidward. He tightened his grip on the bag and scratched his head. He felt like he was suddenly stranded at sea. He bit his lip.
"I've caught... a-achoo!" Squidward focused on SpongeBob's face and did not fully cover his mouth. "A nasty case of the flu..." He resisted the urge to smirk. "I probably caught it…" He coughed. "...from some guy in the hospital." He tilted his head forward and sniffed the cologne. He sneezed again.
Patrick stepped back. He noticed something odd in Squidward's face. 'Maybe we should leave him alone.' He gazed at the can in his hand. 'Maybe this'll make him feel better anyway.' "We've got something for you." He held out the can and smiled warmly.
SpongeBob smiled as well and held out his gift. He placed the bag in front of Squidward. As he watched Squidward open the bag, he giggled in anticipation.
Squidward took out a box from the bag and opened it. He inspected the clarinet without betraying a smile. He watched the can as Patrick placed it near his feet. He perceived the clarinet's shininess but also felt soreness in his legs. He put the clarinet back into the box. 'There's no way they can bribe me.' "You guys should leave now. My disease is really contagious." Controlling his urge to laugh was like lifting a heavy barbell.
SpongeBob gasped. He noticed how Squidward leaned forward as he sat, resembling the faint image of an orange elderly sponge sitting on a bed. He felt a slight chill. He stepped away from Squidward and kept looking at him as he tip-toed in reverse towards Patrick. "Shouldn't you see the doctor?"
Squidward picked his words before speaking. "I just need regular medicine. The flu I got lasts longer than most types of influenza." He placed the can, the box, and the bag to the side. Without bothering to make more eye contact with the two pests, he turned around. He picked up one of his novels as he waited for them to leave.
To SpongeBob, Squidward now resembled a scholar studying a textbook.
Patrick was ensnared by the complexity of Squidward's spoken vocabulary. He absorbed Squidward's words like a sponge and absentmindedly walked towards the back door.
Squidward looked at SpongeBob from the corner of his eye. "By the way, SpongeBob, I think you've caught a bit of my germs. Just be careful." He then heard rapid footsteps.
SLAM
Squidward smirked and resumed the arm exercises. When the wheelchair refused to cooperate, he increased the speed of his arm twirls. He paid no attention to the gifts.
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Ten minutes later…
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Yellow hands hastily squeezed dispenser soap between brittle fingers. The images of that orange sponge on the bed were fuel for SpongeBob's shaky hands. He had repeated the handwashing process so many times that the faucet's noise had been dulled. To him, he was repeating a ritual that would protect him from lurking creatures. When the soap got washed away, he sniffed his hands and smiled contently. "This'll do the trick." He turned off the faucet.
"Meow." Gary was peeking at SpongeBob from the bathroom's ajar door.
"I'm not super-worried or anything like that." SpongeBob's smile lessened. He dried his hands by shaking them. He inspected his clothes for stains and bit his lip when he saw a small one. He imagined that stain having colonies of bacteria with abnormally large flagellae. SpongeBob then dashed to the kitchen.
"Meow."
S-S-S-S-S
SpongeBob overheard Gary's comment. "I'm not paranoid, Gar-bear. I'm just doing a few precautions, that's all." He swiftly removed his shirt, grabbed a sponge, squeezed some blue dish soap on the shirt, and scrubbed the shirt furiously. As he observed the stain's gradual disappearance, he felt like he was climbing a steep mountain slope.
"Meow. Meow."
SpongeBob scrubbed even harder. "So what if I forgot other chores? Nobody's perfect." He stuck out his tongue slightly when a certain part of the stain was not coming off. The thought of bacteria crawling on his skin quickened his heartbeat. He then squeezed so much soap onto the shirt that it looked like it was covered in Gary's slime.
"Meow." Gary glanced at the living room. He perceived the furniture's disorganized positions.
"Cleaning the other rooms don't matter right now. I'm making sure that we don't get sick." SpongeBob raised his voice. Sweat ran down his brow. When the stain was completely gone, he grinned. "Phew." He turned off the faucet, ran to the garage, and left it in on a clothesline to dry.
"Meow." Gary was watching the bubbles rising from the sink.
"Gary, wouldn't you at least be a little bit worried about your health?" The two entered the living room. "Being healthy helps you live longer, y'know." SpongeBob flumped to the couch and switched to the news channel. He put his hands behind his head, away from areas in the couch that had came in contact with food.
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Almost an hour later…
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KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
SpongeBob walked to the front door. He was wearing two extra layers of squarepants, antibacterial gloves, and a face mask. He grasped the knob with shaky fingers and opened the door jerkily.
"Hey, Sponge. Wanna jellyfish?" Patrick spun his jellyfishing net with one hand. "I already got my net."
"No thanks, Pat. I think it's too risky to go out today." SpongeBob glanced at the jellyfish group that was wandering around the neighborhood and bit his lip. He flinched when a jellyfish buzzed near the front door. He took a step back and eyed where his feet were.
Patrick scratched his head. "Why not?" He watched the jellyfish group as they flew back to Jellyfish Fields. "If you're not dumb like me, you'll be fine." He smiled.
"Pat, don't you remember what Squid said about his germs? It could spread anywhere and I don't wanna get sick. I gotta work tomorrow." SpongeBob inspected his hands. He pulled in the gloves until his fingernails touched the gloves' tips.
"You must've been worrying about this for a long time. I didn't see you do anything outside." Patrick put a hand on SpongeBob's shoulder. "Just relax. If you ever get sick, just get some medicine. Isn't that what those med stores are for, right?" Patrick glanced at the plank pile. "Jellyfishing isn't like the bubblestand. You won't be hurting anybody." He perceived a faint glow from SpongeBob's pocket. "Plus, you got that magic paper." He leaned against the pineapple's exterior wall. "Nothing to worry about."
"But I could be spreading Squid's germs. That could make others get sick like Squid." SpongeBob grasped the knob and began to inch the door to a close.
"I know getting sick doesn't feel good, but we're just taking a small trip to Jellyfish Fields." Patrick pointed in Jellyfish Fields' direction. "We've always went there and never got sick. It'll be fun. By the time we come back, you won't feel stressed anymore." He put his hands behind his head.
"A small risk is still a risk." SpongeBob held the front door ajar and eyed a nearby scallop. "If I don't go out, nobody will be get sick. I can have fun inside by watching TV and playing with Gary." He smiled awkwardly and waved at Patrick. "Bye, Pat. Have fun!"
SLAM
Patrick shrugged and strolled towards Jellyfish Fields. 'I don't get it. If he wants to stay safe while jellyfishing, he could've brought his gloves and that mask thing with him.' He looked down at his hands and got nearly entranced by how they swayed as he walked.
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Several hours later…
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SpongeBob stood on a giant Krabby Patty that floated above the ocean. "Wooow…" He was gazing at the purple sky and the ocean's rough surface. The sensations of dry air felt strange, like how being underwater would feel like for an air-breather learning how to swim. SpongeBob noticed the island with three palm trees. 'I must be right above Bikini Bottom.' His eyes widened.
A wall of wind shoved him.
SpongeBob swallowed his lips as he clung to the bun's sprinkled surface. The chill he felt made his surroundings fade to a TV screen. A part of the ocean soared and hardened into a pink shell while other parts of the ocean bubbled into a sofa.
"...it will become much colder for the next few days. It seems like spring has not fully transitioned from winter. The winds could go as fast as twenty miles-per-hour." An anchorman with a large head spoke. "This is Johnny Elaine signing off."
The living room faded back to an ocean.
Dark clouds shrouded the sky. The gusts stopped.
B-BOOOOOMM
RUMMMMBBBLE
Lightning pierced the sky.
SpongeBob stood up. He scanned for a full glimpse of the lightning bolts. However, the incoming thunder made him jump and cling to the bun again.
The dark clouds began to rain Krabby Patties of various sizes. As it became covered with burgers, the black ocean surface was beginning to look like the grill's surface.
SpongeBob gaped at the clouds. "It's raining Krabby Patties!" He held out both hands and a Krabby Patty landed on them. He grinned. "Yeah!" He gobbled the burger. He ran around the giant Krabby Patty with an open mouth. He leaned towards any burger that was falling near him.
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SpongeBob felt the taste of polyester. He opened his eyes. He was biting the pillow and saliva stains were scattered throughout the pillow's surface. He was wearing his underwear. His stomach grumbled. "A quick midnight snack and then it's back to bed." he whispered. He put on two fresh pairs of socks that had been placed near the bed. He heard a gust and resisted the urge to flinch. He snatched a pair of antibacterial gloves that was near the foghorn and put them on in less than a second. He dashed to the door and exited the bedroom.
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Like all the other rooms in the pineapple, the kitchen's lights were turned off. The heat of an imaginary fever fueled his trembling. He grabbed two jars from the cabinet, put the jars on the table, grabbed a small plastic bag of bread from the refrigerator, and tossed the bag to the table. He glanced at the floor and saw a speck of dust and a few other phantom stains. His heartbeat quickened. "N-nothing like a sea-nut butter and jellyfish jelly sandwich to g-get you to sleep," he whispered faintly. Images of microscopic tentacles slithering out of his holes flashed by. He opened the jars and the bag within a second. He hastily put together the sandwich and held it shakily as he ate it. When he finished, he dashed back to the bedroom.
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"Sleep tight, my little angel." Thoughts of the bacterial menace floated away at the cute sight of the sleeping snail. SpongeBob gently laid on the bed and slowly draped his body in the blanket. He closed his eyes.
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Chilly vapors began to leak from the opened refrigerator.
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The next day…
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March 17, 2008.
HOOONNNNNK
The foghorn's vibrations broke the layer of ice that blanketed it. A few pieces of that ice landed on SpongeBob's face.
SpongeBob slowly opened his eyes and shakily wiped the ice from his face. His forehead felt like a furnace. The mucous in his nose bubbled with each inhale and exhale. He sat up and chills pricked his chest and back. He tightly wrapped the blanket over himself and shivered. His head unsteadily remained upright. The whole bedroom was covered in ice. He wiped the mucous that leaked from his nostrils. He contemplated the mucous on his forearm. He felt like tiny green creatures with multiple limbs were crawling all over his body. "Uh oh." He glanced at the sunshine coming from the window. He then glanced at the newspapers and other small particles scattered on the floor.
"Meow." Gary was wearing a winter hat and a pair of earmuffs.
"Good morning, Gary." SpongeBob attempted to force energy into his voice. He wore a smile as he pulled the small icicle out of his nose. He stood on the floor but his feet slipped in different directions. "There's ice here too," he whispered. He laid on the floor, slid across the room, and opened the door to the stairway with his feet. He stood up and exited the bedroom by taking a few slow and shaky steps.
Gary narrowed his eyes. To the snail, SpongeBob's mask was as transparent as the ice in the room.
S-S-S-S-S
SpongeBob looked at the floor near the stairs' end. 'Gotta be a bit careful here. Don't wanna hurt my head.' He laid down again and slowly slid down the stairs. The back of his head bumped against the icy steps a few times. He landed on the floor face-first. He shakily stood up and waited until his vision was clear of floating colors. He opened the kitchen door.
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A few minutes later…
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SpongeBob slid into the bathroom and clung to the sink as he stood up. He stared at his reflection on the mirror without smiling. He perceived his skin's blue tint and his baggy eyes.
Gary slid up to SpongeBob with ease. His slimy bottom had adjusted to the icy floor.
"Oh, Gary, I don't feel like myself." SpongeBob fully revealed his frown. The thought of flipping Krabby Patties passed by. His throat became slightly heavy. He touched his forehead and noticed how it was warmer; his home's coldness seemed to be assaulting his frail body.
"Meow meow." Gary tilted his eyes towards the end of the hallway.
SpongeBob gasped. "Gary, you're right!" He dove to the floor and slid belly-first like a penguin. He jumped and landed on his feet when he entered the kitchen. He saw the open refrigerator and widened his eyes. 'The coldness must've activated the symptoms. Maybe it took Squid some time to get sick after catching it.' He tiptoed to the refrigerator and closed it. He then tiptoed back to the living room and glanced at the clock. "I still gotta work today." He opened the closet and began searching for the employee hat.
"Meow meow."
SpongeBob shook his head. "I don't wanna leave a bad impression on Mr. Krabs." He stood straight. "I only worked there for a day." He snatched a clean pair of squarepants and a clean white shirt from a hanger. He shakily put on the clothes and put his employee ID on his shirt. He rubbed his arms until they were somewhat warm.
"Meow meow meow."
"Nah." SpongeBob wore another smile and put on a fresh pair of black shoes. He sat on the couch and turned on the TV. "If I was too sick to go to work, I'd have bubbles coming out of me." He kept changing the channels until he reached a cooking channel. He poked his holes and inspected the skin of his arms. He discovered that his skin became bluer compared to just a few minutes ago. His heartbeat quickened. He ran to the closet and put on a coat and a winter hat. He dove back to the couch.
"Meow."
SpongeBob stopped wearing a smile. He tightened his grip on the remote when his nose started tickling. "I only stayed home 'cause I was scared over nothing. I can just wear my safety mask and gloves while working." He giggled awkwardly. He focused on the TV screen until the more troubling images and sounds began to fade from his mind. "Now that I'm sick, I don't think Squid's illness is that scary."
Gary stared in the tiki's direction. After several seconds, he turned towards SpongeBob, and tilted his eyes to the side. "Meow."
"I'm not overreacting or anything like that. If Squid was sick, then that disease has gotta be real in some way." SpongeBob glanced at his watch and leaned back. His workday was going to begin in an hour.
"Meow."
"I'm not inconsiderate for going out. Like I said, I'm gonna put on some stuff that'll keep others from catching this cold. Plus, if I work, I'll be doing everybody a favor by cooking and serving them delicious food." SpongeBob's eyes twinkled. "I'm not even that sick."
Gary perceived the brightness of the TV. He gently took the remote and lowered the TV's brightness.
"Achoo!" SpongeBob covered his mouth with his hand. A few pink bubbles flew out of his holes. He bit his lip. "That's just one sneeze. It's nothing." He glanced at the watch and clung to the coat.
"Meow."
"I can't be that sic- achoo!" SpongeBob covered his mouth with his arm. Several pink bubbles flew out of his holes. He stood up. He attempted to run but fell face-first to the floor. "Achoo!" Pink bubbles slid across the floor like hockey pucks.
"Meow." Gary slithered towards the shell-phone.
"Mr. SquarePants, why haven't you came to work yesterday?!" "B-but…" "No buts! I've never seen an employee who ditches work right after I hire 'em. You're fired!" SpongeBob took a deep breath and the stream of thoughts slowed down somewhat. He laid on his back and slid to the bathroom. He barged open the cabinet. He seized the toothpaste container and his toothbrush. He pulled open the container's cap and nearly crushed the container as the toothpaste poured to the brush. He brushed his teeth furiously. He spat out the toothpaste and rinsed his mouth with mouthwash within several seconds. He pulled up his underpants until it was over his mouth. "I can't miss out on work. By becoming a fry cook, I promised Mr. Krabs to be loyal and do my best." He marched back to the living room. He gently took the employee hat from the closet and placed it on his head. "I. Am. Not. Sick." He sat on the couch with folded arms and furrowed brows.
Gary slithered to the couch with a downward gaze. He felt like persuading SpongeBob was like attempting to reach the sun without using any spacecraft. "Meow."
SpongeBob shrugged. "I don't think wearing my underpants like this is bad at all." He glanced at the clock and adjusted his underwear. "It's always good to switch things up sometimes." He smiled contently. "Achoo!" A pink bubble came out of his mouth and popped within the underpants. He pulled up the underpants until he felt the wedgie he was giving himself.
KNOCK KNOCK
SpongeBob zipped the coat until the zipper reached its limit. He glanced at his arms, legs, and chest. 'Don't fail me now, body.' He took a deep breath and ran to the front door. He felt like he was on a tightrope that could get cut at any second.
CRREEEEAAAK
Patrick stood before the opened entrance. He was grinning and was holding a jellyfishing net. "Wanna jellyfish now?" He twirled the net. "You still got some free time." He assumed that the blue sponge in front of him had thawed back to the yellow sponge that he had seen running to the Krusty Krab for a job.
SpongeBob glanced at his watch. His anxiety had caused him to previously see the sixty minutes from his workday's start as six minutes. "I'd love to!" He grinned, struggling with all of his might to deny his illness. "Wait just a sec." He ran to his bedroom. In less than a minute, he came back with his jellyfishing net while wearing his black glasses. He did a thumbs-up. "Let's go!" He ran past Patrick.
"Alright!" Patrick's smile reached his cheeks' limit. He caught up with SpongeBob. Yesterday's events drifted away from his mind. He felt the chill of an incoming gust and slowed down slightly. "It sure is cold today." He rubbed his hands.
"ACHOO!" Many pink bubbles flew out of SpongeBob's holes. He took a few deep inhales to clear the mucous from his nose. He perceived Patrick's concerned face. He glanced at his hands. His gaze fell and his throat became somewhat heavy.
"You okay?" Patrick stopped smiling. He put a hand on his chin. He saw the mucous that SpongeBob was trying to wipe from his nose.
"Y-yes." SpongeBob smiled awkwardly. He pulled up his underpants until the pressure on his groin reached a certain level.
Patrick felt SpongeBob's forehead with his hand and noticed that it was unusually warm. "You're not okay." He shook his head. "You're sick."
"But I wanna jellyfish and go to work!" SpongeBob's eyes moistened and he clasped his hands together. He bit his lip.
Patrick had a brain fart. He sat on a rock and scratched his head. After a minute of contemplation, his planned words re-emerged. He stood up with widened eyes. "Whatever you do, do not go to the doctor."
SpongeBob tilted his head to the side. "Why not?"
"I know some remedies for the suds that my parents taught me. Plus, I know this guy who knows a guy who went to the doctor once, and the doctor's office is a horrible, horrible place!" Patrick gripped SpongeBob's shoulder tightly. The only memories he had of the hospital consisted of faint and distorted images from his childhood.
SpongeBob contemplated the hospital's direction. "It can't be as bad as having the suds."
Patrick's eyes widened even more. "Oh, it is!
"But Squid went there and ended up fine. If we didn't bring him there, he would've been in even worse shape." SpongeBob lowered his hands.
"But Squid was knocked out for most of his stay in that place. He didn't wait for anything." Patrick opened the pineapple's front door. "Come in. I'll show you why it's bad."
SpongeBob scurried into his home.
SLAM
S-S-S-S-S
"Well, first, they make you sit in the waiting room." Patrick pushed SpongeBob to the red couch chair.
SpongeBob remembered the pressure on his rear that had been caused by sitting at the waiting room for too long. He bit his lip. "Is that the horrible part?" He could not push away the creeping thoughts. "I haven't had an appointment in more than a year."
"No, it gets worse. They make you read old magazines!" Patrick leaned towards SpongeBob. "W-what is that?" His child self was trembling at the sight of the body diagrams on the wall of the school nurse's room. He dashed out of the pineapple and returned with a small piece of coral. "Then the doctor pulls out his stethoscope." His eyes narrowed and he held the coral piece like a knife.
SpongeBob's eyes widened. "No!" The image of a certain patient's room was becoming clear. He sat into a fetal position.
The demon in the white coat was still fresh in Patrick's memory. He lowered his voice to a loud whisper. "Yes. It's a device so sinister, so icy cold when it touches your bare flesh, it…" He prod SpongeBob's chest with the coral piece. "Ssss!"
"No, no!" SpongeBob's face lost a shade of color. "No stethoscope, no doctor, no old magazines, no hiss!" His obligation to work and his new fear of dealing with the doctor battled in his mind until they blurred. He dropped to the floor back-first and took a deep breath. "Pat, I don't wanna go to the doctor."
Patrick smiled. "Exactly."
"Can you use those remedies, please?" SpongeBob glanced at the clock and sat up. "Would you like to be my doctor?" His eyes twinkled.
"What else are friends for?" Patrick beamed. He scanned the objects in the kitchen and in the living room. 'If I set things up just like how my parents did it, I'll know exactly what to do.' Through his moving of the furniture, his childhood memories were converted to reality.
S-S-S-S-S
Ten minutes later…
S-S-S-S-S
SpongeBob was sitting on the table without his coat, winter hat, glasses, and jellyfishing net. His legs swayed beyond the table's edge.
Patrick was inspecting the sponge's blue body. "It looks like we're gonna have to plug up these holes." He turned around and picked up a pile of corks. His layout of the kitchen preserved his short-term memory. His tongue slightly stuck out to the side. "This oughta do the trick." He pushed most of the corks into SpongeBob's holes. "Voila!" SpongeBob's current look reminded him of his younger self.
SpongeBob sneezed and the pink bubbles bounced against the corks. His head expanded. He eyed his hands. "I don't think it's working..." He bit his lip.
Patrick dropped his jaw and stepped back. His heartbeat quickened. "Help, I'm shrinking!" He dove into an opened sink drawer. "No! Please don't hurt me!" He cowered.
SpongeBob's nose felt less ticklish. He grinned. "Pat, your treatment is working!" He sprung to the floor.
"You think so?" Patrick cautiously walked towards SpongeBob and then scratched his head. He scanned SpongeBob's skin. 'He's still not cured.'
"Sure! At this rate, I'll be cured in no time." SpongeBob glanced at his watch. His positive energy seemed to lessen his fever.
"And they say I'd never make anything outta myself." Patrick smiled faintly.
SpongeBob heard the faint notes of Squidward's clarinet. A light bulb lit up. "Why not ask Squid for advice? If he managed to survive the sickness without going to the doctor, maybe he knows a trick or two that'll cure me even faster." He ran towards the pineapple's front door. The fire in his eyes was brighter than before.
Patrick quickly followed him.
SLAM
S-S-S-S-S
SpongeBob stood before the tiki's front door.
KNOCK KNOCK
The upper left window was open. Squidward was playing the clarinet louder than usual. In Squidward's closed eyes, he was before a massive audience who had cultivated taste.
Patrick saw what Squidward was doing. 'Why didn't he help Sponge before? He could've stopped him from becoming this sick.' He raised an eyebrow and folded his arms. He saw a sand pile from the corner of his eye. The bubblestand and the reef blower returned to his thoughts. 'Oh.'
KNOCK KNOCK
The clarinet fell silent. Stomping could be heard from the stairs.
Squidward muttered to himself before opening the door. He was no longer using the wheelchair. "What do you want?" He put a hand on his hip. The two neighbors' presence were contaminating the pleasant atmosphere he had been building. He noticed the blueness of SpongeBob's skin. 'I guess nothing's gonna keep him away from me.' He sighed.
"Do you know some stuff I could use to cure the suds?" SpongeBob's smile lessened at the sight of Squidward's frown. He shakily pointed at his blocked holes.
Patrick inspected Squidward's appearance and narrowed his eyes. 'How could he get better so fast?'
Squidward stepped back. "Just go to the doctor. That's what I did," he droned and quickly closed the door. In less than a minute, the two neighbors heard him playing the clarinet again.
SpongeBob bit his lip and looked at Patrick from the corner of his eye.
Patrick shrugged.
"Maybe Squid's right." SpongeBob scratched his chin and gazed downward. After several seconds of thought, he adjusted his employee ID, regained his normal smile and, held out his hand toward Patrick.
Patrick winced at the thought of needles pricking him. "Sponge, just watch out. You don't know what stuff they're gonna use." He hesitantly grabbed SpongeBob's wrist.
"I don't think it'll be that bad." SpongeBob walked briskly towards the hospital while pulling Patrick along. "They're probably just as smart as Squid." He pointed at the clear sky and the flying scallops. "Just focus on the beautiful weather. It'll make you feel better."
Patrick took a deep breath.
S-S-S-S-S
Nine minutes later…
S-S-S-S-S
Patrick was sitting in the fetal position and did not dare to look at the doctors' rooms. The footsteps, the clicking of keyboards, and the smell of disinfectant had intensified.
SpongeBob, who was sitting next to him, kept glancing at the clock. He struggled to sit still. 'C'mon… c'mon…'
"Mr. SquarePants…" The purple doctor stepped out of his room.
SpongeBob gasped and then, as if he was in perfect health, skipped towards the doctor and leaped into the room. The unpleasant images of the orange body on the hospital bed were tucked away into his large archive of memories.
Patrick put his hands in his pockets and stared at the floor. 'I tried to warn him.' He looked at the computers the staff was using and could not recognize the information they were searching and typing. 'But how can someone like me know all this stuff? I can nudge Sponge towards the right path, but that's all I can do.' He gazed at his dirty green pants. He dug into his pockets and felt the crumbs of yesterday's impulsive bouts of eating.
S-S-S-S-S
Sweat from his recent bout of dance practice was trickling down his back. Squidwardd flipped the sheet book to one of his favorite compositions and began playing.
The song's highest note sounded like the pop of a bubble. He gritted his teeth as he blew the next note. When he heard another pop-like note, he clenched the clarinet. He then resumed playing.
"Chirp! Chirp! Chirp!" A scallop flew through the opened window and then frantically flew in zig-zags throughout the room.
Squidward gasped and abruptly felt something in his throat. He gagged for a few seconds until he managed to breathe. After that, his inhales and exhales sounded like weak whistles. He saw a gaping hole on the clarinet's tip. His eyes widened. "The reed!"
S-S-S-S-S
The purple doctor was inspecting the blue sponge, who was sitting on the exam table, as he scribbled on to the notepad. When he finished his notes, he made eye contact. "Well, Mr. SquarePants, it seems you have the suds. Are you ready for your treatment?" He smiled slightly at the thought of SpongeBob's reaction.
SpongeBob glanced at his watch. He imagined the Krusty Krab's attendance machine ticking ever closer to 9:00 AM. "Will it be quick?" His willpower was fighting the cold that was attempting to warm his forehead again.
"Yep. You'll be getting the sponge treatment." The purple doctor looked up towards ceiling. "Oh, Hans?"
A tile in the ceiling slid open and a robotic hand popped out. It looked like a human hand with a black shirt sleeve. It grasped SpongeBob and retracted through the tile opening. Inside a mostly empty room, it dropped SpongeBob into a large bathtub. The tip of the hand's index finger opened and squirted some soap on to SpongeBob's body. It grabbed SpongeBob again and used him, like an actual kitchen sponge, to clean the bathtub.
As the suds was squeezed out of his pores, invigorating sensations surged throughout SpongeBob's body. "Whoo! Yeah! Yeah-eah! Whoo!" His forehead regained its normal temperature and his limbs no longer felt stiff. 'Now I'm ready for work!'
The robot arm rinsed out whatever soap was left in SpongeBob's body by squeezing and dipping him into the bathtub's water for a few seconds. It then dropped SpongeBob through the tile opening.
THUD
SpongeBob landed on his feet. More sunlight was shining into the room; a few clouds had passed by to reveal a clear sky. "I feel as good as new!" He beamed. His yellow skin seemed to be filled with the sun's golden rays.
"Here's your lollipop." The robot arm handed a lollipop to SpongeBob.
The purple doctor clapped four times.
The robot arm retracted and the tile opening slid to a close.
S-S-S-S-S
Patrick caught a glimpse of SpongeBob's lollipop and his mouth watered. His stomach felt more empty. He stopped dwelling on his mental reflection in the mirror. With hands clasped behind his back, he walked up to the purple doctor while eyeing the lollipop SpongeBob was licking. "Hey, Doc, I have the suds too." He attempted a fake sneeze.
The doctor scanned Patrick's body. "Nice try." He smirked. "You're totally fine."
SpongeBob heard Patrick's sigh. 'Pat tried his best to help me. He deserves a little something.' He turned around and saw his friend's downward gaze. "Don't worry, Pat." He put a hand on Patrick's shoulder. "I'll buy a lollipop for you."
S-S-S-S-S
Eleven minutes later…
S-S-S-S-S
Patrick and SpongeBob were both licking their lollipops as they strolled into their neighborhood.
Patrick perceived that one of the tiki's windows was open. Through the opening, he saw Squidward performing specific dances and speaking what sounded like a fusion between whistles and whispers. He scratched his head. "Um, Sponge, Squid's acting weird."
SpongeBob looked up, stopped smiling, ran towards the tiki, and pressed the side of his head against the tiki's exterior wall. He faintly heard Squidward's inhales and exhales. His eyes widened. "Something's wrong with him. We gotta help!" He dashed to the front door.
Patrick put a hand on his chin. "What in the world are you two doing in here?! Get out!" Squidward began coughing louder than before and fell to his knees. "Sponge, I don't-"
"It's been awhile since he's seen us. I don't think he's mad at us anymore." SpongeBob barged the front door open. "Even if we violate his personal space this time, it'll be good for him in the long-run." He bit his lip. He ran through the living room and up the stairs. His heartbeat quickened as he neared the music room. His running slowed to shaky tip-toes. When he heard Squidward's altered voice more clearly, he blanched.
Patrick looked at the opened doorway and shrugged. His more advanced thoughts fled his mind. 'Helping Squid won't harm him.' He caught up with SpongeBob.
S-S-S-S-S
Squidward glared at the two neighbors. "Get out!" His yell sounded like a loud whisper. He stomped towards SpongeBob and Patrick and began pushing them.
"We can't, Squid." SpongeBob pointed at Squidward's throat. His mind had recreated the series of scenes leading to Squidward's situation. He was not smiling. "Something happened to your throat." He attempted to inspect Squidward's neck.
"Stay away from me!" Squidward shoved back SpongeBob. He began walking downstairs.
Patrick barred the stairway. He smiled and attempted to gently put a hand on Squidward's shoulder. "We're not trying to hurt you, Squid."
Squidward stepped away from Patrick. "You two buffoons don't know what you're doing! Remember when you guys fooled around with that bubblestand? You tempted me to get involved and that ended up injuring me and wrecking my home." He pointed at his home's front door and put a hand on his hip. "You can help me the most by leaving." His head tilted upward.
"But we were trying to have fun that time." SpongeBob walked in circles throughout the music room. "This time, it's all about you." He made eye contact with Squidward and smiled sincerely. He perceived that the clarinet was on the music sheet holder. He also caught a glimpse of a self-portrait where Squidward was wearing brown clothes and a brown hat. A light bulb lit up. 'Yeah, I'll be a detective and this'll be like a crime scene.' He began inspecting the art pieces and the room's floor.
The soles of Patrick's feet felt pressed. Patrick had been standing still for over a minute.
S-S-S-S-S
Patrick walked down the stairs and wandered through the tiki's rooms without any further self-awareness. His thoughts became absorbed by his five senses. He touched the walls as he walked aimlessly and liked how the walls' texture scratched his skin. He eventually bumped into a bed. He glanced around and saw a drawer and a window. 'Oh yeah. This is the bedroom.' He stared at the drawer and, like a fish getting reeled in, the temptation pulled him effortlessly. He opened the drawer and took a out a bottle of cologne. He sniffed it and sneezed. A light bulb lit up. 'Maybe Sponge will like this.' Patrick walked back to the music room.
S-S-S-S-S
SpongeBob noticed that the clarinet's tip was missing. He glanced at the bump on Squidward's throat and he gasped. The fog surrounding the previous events dissipated. "Aha!" He skipped towards Squidward. "You were playing the clarinet and the reed got stuck in your throat." The sight of Squidward's frown lessened his smile.
Squidward's arms were folded and his foot was tapping the floor. "Thanks for pointing out the obvious." His throat felt itchy. He tightened his fists. 'I can't bear this much more.' He saw the slight moistness in SpongeBob's eyes.
Patrick ambled into the room. "Hey, Sponge, smell this." He held out the cologne bottle. When he saw Squidward's frown, he swallowed his lips.
SpongeBob sniffed the cologne and sneezed. He scratched his chin. "Didn't I smell this before?" He glanced at Squidward's shirt pocket.
Squidward looked at the cologne bottle in Patrick's hands and sighed. The armor that had protected him from his neighbors was beginning to break.
Patrick smelled the cologne again. "I kinda smelled this too." He glanced at Squidward's legs. The image of Squidward on the wheelchair passed through his thoughts in a half-second. "You used this while you were sick, right?" He placed the cologne bottle before Squidward. He then tucked his filthy hands into his pockets.
Squidward nodded.
A light bulb lit up. SpongeBob's throat became heavy. The faces of the nearby self-portraits looked like masks Squidward could have worn. "Did you fake being sick?" He took a deep breath as he placed the broken clarinet in front of Squidward.
Squidward slowly nodded. His arms remained folded.
"Why?" SpongeBob's eyes widened. His lips quivered. His eyes' dams were reaching their limit.
Squidward seized the cologne bottle, tucked it into his pocket, and tightly gripped the clarinet. He opened his mouth but the thought of the two pests stealing the dance contest's 1st Place trophy passed by. 'I can't tell them the whole truth. I shouldn't give them anymore ideas.' "After what happened with the bubblestand, I couldn't tolerate you guys anymore. So I faked being sick so I could get some peace."
"But I broke the bubblestand for you!" SpongeBob fell to his knees and held out his hands like a believer pleading to a god. "I even b-brought you gifts!" He covered his face with his hands and sobbed.
"When we were giving you those presents, we knew you weren't happy. We didn't want to start anymore trouble." Patrick's frown was just as piercing as Squidward's. He took out his hands from his pockets, turned towards SpongeBob, and placed his hand on SpongeBob's shoulder. "Don't worry, Sponge, it'll be alright." He glared at Squidward for a few more seconds before returning to SpongeBob. "He's just unappreciative."
Squidward raised his brow. "How am I supposed to know you guys are gonna keep your word? You idiots create my misery, then try to redeem yourselves, and then repeat the same stupid mistakes!" His reed moved in his throat and the itchiness surged. He gagged.
SpongeBob inhaled shakily and wiped his eyes. "Pat, don't get mad at him." He stood up. "If a jellyfish stung me too much, I would stay away from it too." His thoughts of the road ahead were as bright as the sunlight touching the neighborhood's road. He cupped his hand near his mouth and leaned towards Patrick's ear. "The bad things that happened to him, including what we did, made him too bitter. If we keep being nice to him and make him open up more, he'll understand and change." As he whispered, his smile grew.
"I guess you're right." Patrick stopped frowning and nodded. He glanced at Squidward. "What're we gonna go do now?" He noticed how the bump in Squidward's throat moved each time Squidward gagged.
"We gotta get that reed out." SpongeBob ran up to Squidward. "And I already got an idea." He took out the magical paper and unfolded it. He held out the paper towards Squidward and closed his eyes. He pushed out distracting thoughts and took a deep breath.
Patrick widened his eyes slightly and held out his hand. "But you said it's not safe to-"
"I know, I know, but I think it's okay to use it this time." SpongeBob smiled confidently. "It'll save Squid's life. You also used it to fix the tiki." He concentrated on the image of Squidward speaking and breathing normally. He spread out his legs a bit and stood still. "Abracadabra!" he yelled and opened his eyes. The magical paper glowed.
Patrick giggled.
The paper's light shut SpongeBob's eyes and wrapped around SpongeBob's limbs. A mini SpongeBob floated out of a pore of his immobile body. He flew into Squidward's mouth and dove into his throat. He grabbed the reed. It felt as light as a toothpick. 'I guess I have the strength of my normal body.' The mini-SpongeBob grinned. He swiftly pulled the reed out of the throat and pushed through Squidward's lips. The yellow ghost dropped the reed to the floor before returning to his physical body. SpongeBob opened his eyes and kept Squidward still until he stopped gagging. "You okay?" He smiled warmly.
"Yeah." Squidward took a few deep breaths as he adjusted to having a reed-free throat. The frustration caused by the bubblestand and the relief caused by SpongeBob's reed removal all blurred into bittersweetness. He glanced at his watch. It was around '8:30 AM'. He groaned and leaned against the wall. 'How am I gonna survive work with him around?'
"Well, see ya at work!" SpongeBob beamed and waved at Squidward before skipping down the stairs.
Patrick glanced at Squidward before following SpongeBob.
Squidward wiped the reed with his shirt and connected it to the clarinet. He walked to the music sheet and turned the pages to another song.
S-S-S-S-S
Patrick scratched his head. "Sponge, how're we gonna make Squid open up?" His stomach grumbled. He looked at nearby coral pieces and his mouth watered.
SpongeBob saw a dark pink jellyfish and a light bulb lit up. "Why not take him on a jellyfishing trip?"
S-S-S-S-S
Most of the stars in the sky by that time had been faded away by the rising sun. However, one fiery star-like object remained. It seemingly watched the three neighbors while flickering in the brightening blue of the sky.