A/N: By the by, interesting how I began writing this fic just one day before finding out about Mother One, Two, and THREE (THREE THREE THREE THREE THREE) for GBA in Japan. Guess my EB-Sense picked up on something in the air... :-D
Now, on to Part 2.
Chapter Two: Discoveries
The man in the tan suit lifted his right leg up in the air until his two legs formed a straight vertical line. He smugly took off his glasses.
"Drunken boxing, huh?" he asked.
Jackie Chan paused a moment, then flung his hands out in front of him in backwards-looking fists, swerving around like a drunken idiot.
With a clink of keys, Paula entered the room.
"What are you two watching?" she asked admonishingly.
"You can't beat a classic," said Ness, watching Jackie Chan and Tan Suit Man battle it out on-screen.
"He's going to get the wrong ideas from that," Paula said worriedly, referring to Jeffrey as she walked towards the kitchen.
"Nah." Ness ruffled his son's hair, "This kid's gonna be a black belt."
"Right," Paula scoffed, "I'll add that to the list right under Soccer Star and World Series Champion."
"Hey, Jeff," Ness said, ignoring his wife's comment, and with both hands caught the soccer ball his son had been throwing over and over up into the air and catching again- sometimes he felt strange addressing his son by the same nickname his friend had been called, but other times he didn't mind so much, "Which d'you like better, soccer or baseball?"
"I like soccer," Jeffrey said after a bit of thought, "'Cause there's always that guy that goes," he shot both arms up into the air, "GOOOOOOOAAAAAAAALLL!"
"Good answer." Ness gave Jeffrey his soccer ball back, and the boy slid off the couch and onto the floor, where he proceeded to kick the ball all around the carpet.
"I was thinking we'd get some chicken for dinner tonight," said Paula as she re-entered the living room, just in time to see Jeffrey kicking his soccer ball very close to the basement door, which was slightly ajar.
"Jeffrey!" she said sternly, switching to light-speed-protective-mother mode as she zipped to close the door and get her son's attention. "Don't kick the ball around here when the basement door's open, okay? You could fall down the stairs."
"Okay," Jeffrey said, and headed out towards the backyard.
Paula sighed as though she'd just averted a terrible disaster. When she looked towards the couch, she saw her husband looking at her bewilderedly. Ignoring his look, she walked briskly back towards the kitchen.
The subject would not come up again for six more hours, after the town had been dark for some time. Paula put on her silky pink nightgown, finished blow-drying her hair, clipped her nails, and exited the bathroom, ready for bed. Ness was already in bed, a notebook propped up on his knees, a pencil in his hand. He was working on notes for next week's column, but as it would soon be revealed, that wasn't really what he was thinking about.
He didn't even look at Paula when she slipped under the covers, but he did ask: "Why don't you ever let Jeffrey go into the basement?"
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Every time he even gets close to that door you freak out," Ness said, "Even if it's closed most of the way."
"But I don't want him to get hurt."
Ness finally turned his head and looked at her, seriously.
"He couldn't even have come close to falling down those stairs today," he said.
"He could have got his fingers caught in the door," Paula said.
"I think you're afraid of letting him see what's down there."
Paula sat in silence for a moment. Years of training as a psychologist had taught her that her first patient was herself- she couldn't afford to deny anything.
"You're right," she sighed, with a note of resignment. "I am."
"Why?" Ness asked. He sounded incredulous. When Paula remained silent for a few good seconds, he went on: "I feel like we're lying to him; not letting him know what happened to us. You won't even let me take him to Onett to see the place where the meteorite landed." The spot was now a treasured tourist attraction, even though a great deal of the people who came to visit the site had no clue as to its real significance.
Paula sighed through her nose.
"What do you think you're protecting him from?" Ness added finally, turning back to his notebook.
"I just think he's too young to know about things like that yet," Paula answered at last.
"How do you mean?" Ness asked.
"Not everyone can have an adventure like ours, Ness," Paula said, smiling vaguely at him, "Jeffrey's at that age where he's still very impressionable. If we tell him about what happened, he might start to think that EVERYONE is supposed to go out and fight giant metal men and smelly ghosts in garbage cans at some point in their lives."
"Well, I dunno about the ghosts in garbage cans," Ness said.
"That's just not something he should have to experience. Not for a few more years, anyway." She said this with a final note, settling down into a horizontal position under the covers.
Hoping to end the evening on a high note, Ness made one final bid for a laugh: "Could I at least let him meet Poo? I bet he'd think his name was real funny."
"Good night, Ness."
*
Early afternoon, a few days following. The items in the basement sat in silence and solitude, the dust of passing years growing thicker on the table and shelves. In fact, there was dust everywhere, despite Paula's efforts to keep it as clean and orderly as the rest of the house- dust on the floor, on the stool, in the air... which a thick blade of light sliced through, revealing the curtain of scattered particles that floated constantly through the air.
The blade, however, allowed itself to be interrupted briefly by a shadow, which entered and bounced through it, down the stairs, and rolled onto the floor by the stool.
A soccer ball.
Then the light was interrupted again, by a new shadow. A larger one, which followed the first one, coming down the stairs more cautiously, stopping by the table.
Jeffrey stooped to pick up his soccer ball, coughing a bit of dust out of his throat.
Then he took a small look around.
Upstairs, on the second floor, Ness sat at his computer, typing away frantically for the deadline he had to meet.
In the basement, Jeffrey examined the strange items on the shelves from his vantage point on the floor. Nothing about it scared him, really- he was only curious. Mom had always been worried about his falling down the stairs, or getting his finger caught in the door, or bumping his head, or getting locked in. She'd never said, point blank, "Jeffrey, don't go in the basement." So now he was here, without having fallen down the stairs, his fingers and head intact, and the door remained quite comfortably open. Jeffrey put down his ball and, with only a little difficulty, managed to get up onto the stool, where he could see the items on the table much easier.
An interesting collection- small, empty jars, a pink ribbon, what looked like some sort of firecrackers- Jeffrey would have picked them up if he'd already been indoctrinated with the idea that firecrackers were dangerous.
So instead, he opted for something much more harmless- the small, round rock that lay directly in the center of the table.
Upstairs by his computer a few moments later, Ness heard a faint THUMP. He ignored it without a second thought, and kept on writing.
A/N: "The Legend of Drunken Master" be not mine either... though it IS a classic, however silly it may be. :-D Next Chapter: Will Jeff get caught in the basement? What's he doing with the Sound Stone? Will Ness ever stop being such an airhead? ^.^ Probably not. Also next chapter, a new character will appear...
Now, on to Part 2.
Chapter Two: Discoveries
The man in the tan suit lifted his right leg up in the air until his two legs formed a straight vertical line. He smugly took off his glasses.
"Drunken boxing, huh?" he asked.
Jackie Chan paused a moment, then flung his hands out in front of him in backwards-looking fists, swerving around like a drunken idiot.
With a clink of keys, Paula entered the room.
"What are you two watching?" she asked admonishingly.
"You can't beat a classic," said Ness, watching Jackie Chan and Tan Suit Man battle it out on-screen.
"He's going to get the wrong ideas from that," Paula said worriedly, referring to Jeffrey as she walked towards the kitchen.
"Nah." Ness ruffled his son's hair, "This kid's gonna be a black belt."
"Right," Paula scoffed, "I'll add that to the list right under Soccer Star and World Series Champion."
"Hey, Jeff," Ness said, ignoring his wife's comment, and with both hands caught the soccer ball his son had been throwing over and over up into the air and catching again- sometimes he felt strange addressing his son by the same nickname his friend had been called, but other times he didn't mind so much, "Which d'you like better, soccer or baseball?"
"I like soccer," Jeffrey said after a bit of thought, "'Cause there's always that guy that goes," he shot both arms up into the air, "GOOOOOOOAAAAAAAALLL!"
"Good answer." Ness gave Jeffrey his soccer ball back, and the boy slid off the couch and onto the floor, where he proceeded to kick the ball all around the carpet.
"I was thinking we'd get some chicken for dinner tonight," said Paula as she re-entered the living room, just in time to see Jeffrey kicking his soccer ball very close to the basement door, which was slightly ajar.
"Jeffrey!" she said sternly, switching to light-speed-protective-mother mode as she zipped to close the door and get her son's attention. "Don't kick the ball around here when the basement door's open, okay? You could fall down the stairs."
"Okay," Jeffrey said, and headed out towards the backyard.
Paula sighed as though she'd just averted a terrible disaster. When she looked towards the couch, she saw her husband looking at her bewilderedly. Ignoring his look, she walked briskly back towards the kitchen.
The subject would not come up again for six more hours, after the town had been dark for some time. Paula put on her silky pink nightgown, finished blow-drying her hair, clipped her nails, and exited the bathroom, ready for bed. Ness was already in bed, a notebook propped up on his knees, a pencil in his hand. He was working on notes for next week's column, but as it would soon be revealed, that wasn't really what he was thinking about.
He didn't even look at Paula when she slipped under the covers, but he did ask: "Why don't you ever let Jeffrey go into the basement?"
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Every time he even gets close to that door you freak out," Ness said, "Even if it's closed most of the way."
"But I don't want him to get hurt."
Ness finally turned his head and looked at her, seriously.
"He couldn't even have come close to falling down those stairs today," he said.
"He could have got his fingers caught in the door," Paula said.
"I think you're afraid of letting him see what's down there."
Paula sat in silence for a moment. Years of training as a psychologist had taught her that her first patient was herself- she couldn't afford to deny anything.
"You're right," she sighed, with a note of resignment. "I am."
"Why?" Ness asked. He sounded incredulous. When Paula remained silent for a few good seconds, he went on: "I feel like we're lying to him; not letting him know what happened to us. You won't even let me take him to Onett to see the place where the meteorite landed." The spot was now a treasured tourist attraction, even though a great deal of the people who came to visit the site had no clue as to its real significance.
Paula sighed through her nose.
"What do you think you're protecting him from?" Ness added finally, turning back to his notebook.
"I just think he's too young to know about things like that yet," Paula answered at last.
"How do you mean?" Ness asked.
"Not everyone can have an adventure like ours, Ness," Paula said, smiling vaguely at him, "Jeffrey's at that age where he's still very impressionable. If we tell him about what happened, he might start to think that EVERYONE is supposed to go out and fight giant metal men and smelly ghosts in garbage cans at some point in their lives."
"Well, I dunno about the ghosts in garbage cans," Ness said.
"That's just not something he should have to experience. Not for a few more years, anyway." She said this with a final note, settling down into a horizontal position under the covers.
Hoping to end the evening on a high note, Ness made one final bid for a laugh: "Could I at least let him meet Poo? I bet he'd think his name was real funny."
"Good night, Ness."
*
Early afternoon, a few days following. The items in the basement sat in silence and solitude, the dust of passing years growing thicker on the table and shelves. In fact, there was dust everywhere, despite Paula's efforts to keep it as clean and orderly as the rest of the house- dust on the floor, on the stool, in the air... which a thick blade of light sliced through, revealing the curtain of scattered particles that floated constantly through the air.
The blade, however, allowed itself to be interrupted briefly by a shadow, which entered and bounced through it, down the stairs, and rolled onto the floor by the stool.
A soccer ball.
Then the light was interrupted again, by a new shadow. A larger one, which followed the first one, coming down the stairs more cautiously, stopping by the table.
Jeffrey stooped to pick up his soccer ball, coughing a bit of dust out of his throat.
Then he took a small look around.
Upstairs, on the second floor, Ness sat at his computer, typing away frantically for the deadline he had to meet.
In the basement, Jeffrey examined the strange items on the shelves from his vantage point on the floor. Nothing about it scared him, really- he was only curious. Mom had always been worried about his falling down the stairs, or getting his finger caught in the door, or bumping his head, or getting locked in. She'd never said, point blank, "Jeffrey, don't go in the basement." So now he was here, without having fallen down the stairs, his fingers and head intact, and the door remained quite comfortably open. Jeffrey put down his ball and, with only a little difficulty, managed to get up onto the stool, where he could see the items on the table much easier.
An interesting collection- small, empty jars, a pink ribbon, what looked like some sort of firecrackers- Jeffrey would have picked them up if he'd already been indoctrinated with the idea that firecrackers were dangerous.
So instead, he opted for something much more harmless- the small, round rock that lay directly in the center of the table.
Upstairs by his computer a few moments later, Ness heard a faint THUMP. He ignored it without a second thought, and kept on writing.
A/N: "The Legend of Drunken Master" be not mine either... though it IS a classic, however silly it may be. :-D Next Chapter: Will Jeff get caught in the basement? What's he doing with the Sound Stone? Will Ness ever stop being such an airhead? ^.^ Probably not. Also next chapter, a new character will appear...