Well, here's the second chapter! I just wanted to point out that although Sarah is not my favorite character, I do not have anything against her. It's not her fault that she was a pushover; part of it was the script, too. If she had wittier lines or something maybe it wouldn't have been too bad. And the last chapter was about a year after the strike, so she had a whole year to change. I realize that she might seem a little out of character, but this is supposed to be a humorous story.
And thanks to everyone who reviewed the previous chapter!
I sat on the couch that I had landed on, fingering the purple button—the stupid purple button that brought me here. This most certainly was NOT time travel; the time period didn't look much different. It wasn't futuristic and brimming with contraptions unknown to anyone until 100 years, it was just…a house.
The girls hadn't noticed me yet, which was strange because I apparently appeared silently. I took a moment to observe them before I would surely be thrown out for trespassing. All four were brunettes except for one who looked to be the youngest in comparison. There was a tall girl with her nose in a book, a pretty one working on a doily not unlike mine, a girl playing with three little kittens, and the blonde was sketching. All four were so absorbed in their tasks that they didn't even see me.
I take that back. The blonde, in an effort to pick up her fallen pencil, noticed someone foreign on the couch. Took her long enough. She then let out an earsplitting shriek that I compared to David's stupid mechanical sounds; it was that loud.
"Who are you and how did you get in here?" she demanded. I noticed that two other girls had also shrieked, but the one that was reading was just giving me a curious look.
"Um. I, uh." What could I say? I flew in from a contraption that was supposed to make me travel through time but it didn't seem to work for no apparent reason? I didn't even want to think about how I was going to get home.
"Are you a friend of Laurie's?" asked the bookworm, breaking the silence.
"Well. Yeah, I guess," I replied, taking any excuse I could. Whoever Laurie was.
"Oh," said the blonde one almost knowingly, giving me a funny look. I'm not sure why…
"Hear that, Jo? She's a friend of Laurie's." The bookworm who I took to be Jo shook her head and replied,
"Don't be silly, Amy. She doesn't fancy him, I can tell." Well, so she thought that I was dating this Laurie person. I figured it wouldn't be the right time to assure her that I was madly in love with Jack Kelly, so I let it slide.
"You're right, I'm attached," I interjected. Okay, so I had to say something about Jack per say.
"Ooh, really?" asked the young blonde again. "What's he like?"
I found it unbelievably strange that they thought I had just waltzed in here and plunked on the couch and they're not making a big deal about it. If I had been as absorbed and I looked up to find a strange girl you can bet I would have thrown her out immediately.
Well, Papa would have thrown her out immediately. But at least she'd be out. These must be really friendly and hospitable people. I decided I could trust them—or at least initiate conversation with them until I figured out how to get back—and tell them about Jack.
"His name is Jack. He's about six feet tall with dirty blonde hair that he keeps kind of long, and he has these hazel-brown eyes…" I have to stop before I tell them his blood type or something.
"Really? So that's why you must be attracted to Laurie and not Mr. Brooke, right?" asked the doily girl, who in return got a solid thwop on the arm from Jo.
"She's not attracted to Laurie you ninny-pinny, she said that already. Although that description does match him," Jo informed me matter-of-factly. So I travel to wherever this is and get another Jack? Amazing.
"So, do you think I can meet him and see for myself?" As soon as those words came out of my mouth I regretted it instantly. I had blown my cover!
"Meet who, Laurie? You said that you knew him already!" Jo exclaimed. How was I going to get out of this one? Stupid, stupid, stupid!
"I do know him! I uh, meant, um, I meant…" Being in the spotlight is not my strong point.
"I meant that Mr. Brooke guy that Meg was talking about a few seconds ago," I covered nervously, hoping they'd accept it.
"You haven't met Laurie's tutor yet?" Meg asked, apparently astounded. Should I have?
"Well. No; he's been, um, busy," I lied. They seemed to all nod in agreement, except for the girl that had stopped playing with her cats and was now staring at me, paralyzed with fear in her seat. I wonder why. I wasn't ugly, or anything.
"Hey, what's your name anyway?" the blonde asked boisterously. What's YOUR name, so I can stop referring to you as "the blonde"? I probably should have introduced myself in the first place anyway, huh…
"Oh, sorry, I'm Sarah Jacobs." I debated giving an alias, but then I remembered that I would hopefully never see these people again and I might as well stick to a name that I could recall.
I learned that the four girls were Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy and that they were all the March sisters. The timid-looking one was Beth.
"Beth, why don't you play Sarah a welcome song on the piano?" requested Jo. I've always wanted to learn how to play piano. Too bad our apartment was too small to fit one.
IS too small, I mentally corrected myself. It hasn't become 'was' quite yet. But then I got to wondering…what exactly was a "welcome song"? I've never heard of a song that went "Welcome, welcome!"
But my question was answered as I heard the first strains of a familiar scherzo. The room fell silent as Beth played the one-minute song, and the sisters burst into exuberant applause. I clapped politely.
"That was very pretty," I told Beth as she was walking back to her seat on a chair, and she blushed furiously and didn't answer. I took it as thanks.
"So, are you attracted to Laurie or not?" asked Meg, breaking the silence, which was followed by a loud groan from Jo.
"How many times have we gone over this? She said that she wasn't, and that she was clearly attached," Jo cried out, exasperated. She wasn't the only one.
"No, I'm not. He's pleasant to the eyes, of course," (and here I was relying on their comparisons to Jack), "but he could never be Jack." I must have said the wrong thing because Jo, who was on my side not a minute ago, distanced herself from me in her seat as if she was offended.
"What do you mean by that?" she inquired suspiciously. "Laurie is a wonderful person. He's like a brother to us, you should know that!" Whoa. So she thought I insulted him? Well, I'm sorry, but no one can be as great as Jack is.
"Of course he's great, but my man's greater," I replied defiantly, partly because I was a.) Defending Jack and b.) I was bored and I wanted to ruffle people's feathers. Unfortunately for me, the feathers I was ruffling were Jo's.
"Excuse me? No one could be as wonderful as my Laurie!" Okay, is it me or am I sensing a kind of mother-hen relationship with Jo and Laurie here?
"Why are you so persistent, do YOU like him?" I was dying to know.
But I should have realized that she would never own up to it, even though it was clearly written on her face. Too enraged to answer (temper much?) Amy answered for her.
"Laurie is an inacredible boy!" she said, sticking her flat nose up at me. Perhaps she meant 'incredible'?
"Hey, you don't see me denying it!" I responded, sticking my own nose up as well. After all, what's the point of having a nose if you can't stick it up to people when they do the same to you?
But then I realized that it probably might not be a good idea to mess with them, because they were Laurie's closest friends and apparently I was too. So it might get me on his good side when I spoke with him (whenever the time came) and help him to lie with me if the Marches accepted me. After all, I could be stuck here for forever for all I know, and I certainly don't want four angry girls breathing down my neck every six seconds just because I slighted their precious friend out of pure boredom. Determined to make things right, I took a deep breath.
"I'm so sorry! I sounded so selfish, didn't I?" I started with a crack in my voice, preparing my crying act just in case. "It's just that…you've known Laurie for so long, and I not nearly as long, and I felt inferior and insulted him to make myself look better! In turn, I made myself look worse, and completely berated you! Will you ever accept me in your lives as a friend again?" I saved the waterworks and tried the lip tremble, and sure enough, my performance elicited a groan of sympathy from Meg.
"Oh, it was us who was selfish, dear, we're so spoiled and ignorant having just Laurie around! Please forgive us!" she half-sobbed, getting up and pulling me into a hug. Amy joined soon after, and then followed shyly by Beth. Jo was the last; she stood in the corner crossing her arms in defiance, until a second later she relented with a forced "I'm sorry too," and joined the group hug too. That was too easy.
Well, now that that was settled, we could move on. After little prodding from Jo, Beth began plunking away prettily at the piano.
"Now who do I owe the pleasure of that beautiful music?" I heard a booming voice enter through the front door. As a male figure entered the living room, I froze.
It was Jack. Well, it was Jack but it wasn't. He had the same face, and body, and everything—except this boy looked much cleaner and richer.
Ah, this must be Laurie! Hmm, maybe he was a relative of Jack's?
"Laurie, your friend stopped by to see us; did you send her?" inquired Amy. Laurie looked around confused and then spotted me.
"My…? Oh, yes, I did send…?" He must have gotten the message from my furtive eye and hand motions that I wanted him to play along. And now he figured it would be good if he knew my name.
"Sarah, silly! Stop pretending you don't know me!" I replied, laughing as if he was off his rocker. Actually, it was I who was off the rocker.
"Oh, you got me!" he said, just as joking a tone, but a more underlying serious that only I—knowing the true reason for the serious—could sense.
"Sarah, can I talk to you in the kitchen for a second?" he asked playfully, and I shrugged and went right back with an, "Okay, Laurie" and followed him to the kitchen.
"Who are you?" he asked forcefully. "You haven't hurt any of them, have you?" Oh, of course, because I look SO intimidating.
That much must have shown on my face because he waved his hand with a curt "Never mind." He took a deep breath, not quite sure to handle the situation. Well, he wasn't the only one.
"Okay, well I don't know who you are or what your business is here, but I would appreciate it if you would leave as soon as possible," he started.
"I would be all too happy to obey your requests…Laurie, but I'm not sure how to get home." Telling the truth was probably the easiest thing to do in this case.
"Why, do you need directions? I could give you some. And my grandfather could loan you a carriage, it wouldn't be a problem—" But I interrupted him.
"No, that's okay. Just a quick question…what state are we in?"
He seemed shocked that I didn't know where I was, let alone the state, and I couldn't blame him. I just figured that this wasn't New York, and I wanted to know how far away I was going to have to walk to get back home and scream at David. Sure, it was my fault that I was here, but technically it was his fault that the machine hadn't done what it was supposed to do. Okay, so technically it was my fault, but who was I to pinpoint such a trivial little detail?
I was drifted out of my little reverie by the firm response "Massachusetts."
"I'm sorry, what?" Oh, right, I had asked what state he was in; so he just wasn't randomly spurting out state names…
"Massachusetts," he repeated, exasperated. Although my geography was terrible, I did vaguely remember that Massachusetts was north of here. I think.
"Great, thanks," I replied. "But before I go, can I ask another question?" He sighed and reluctantly nodded. I guess he didn't want to be bothered by this strange girl anymore. I probably wouldn't either if I were he and he were I in reversed situations.
"Do you have any relations named Sullivan? Particularly a Francis Sullivan?" Hey, you knew it was coming. I couldn't not ask that burning question.
"Well, I'd have to check with my grandfather to be sure, but my parents did not have any relations named Sullivan as far as I know," he answered. Oh, so it must be a one-time fluke that he looks identical to Jack, then. Not a problem. It was a pleasure to meet another Jack, actually. A pleasure that was all mine.
"Are you sure?" How marvelous would that be to go back to Jack and tell him the whereabouts of one of his relatives that looked extremely close to his age?
"YES! I mean, yes, I am quite positive." I could sense him at the end of his fuse, and I didn't want to prod anymore lest he turn violent. Judging by his nature I didn't think he would, but one can never be too sure. After all, look at Morris and Oscar. Well, sure, they looked violent, and they WERE violent, so maybe my theory wasn't perfect after all.
You know what? Never mind.
"Well, I guess I'll be going now," I told him, noticing how a wave of relief washed over his face.
"Goodbye," he said, pointing to the door that was not two feet away. Hey, I can figure out where the door is, thankyouverymuch.
"Hmph," I responded, making my way to the door. But the strangest thing happened—as soon as I opened it, I didn't see a plentiful garden as I expected in such a quaint house. No, I saw a big gush of wind. Suddenly, I was falling like I was last time. I really should get insurance or something; this could turn out terribly.
But before I had time to contemplate my well being, I found myself landing in a building that looking like a club. I mean, it definitely wasn't like Medda's vaudeville show at all. There was blasting music and people dancing strangely.
This most certainly isn't home. Well, here we go again, I thought, and dived unsurely into the crowd.
All right all you Christian Bale fans, which movie is she going to be in next? ;)