Chapter XV: Dreams of Delusions
"I GOT BLISTAHS ON MY FINGAHS!" Mr. Ringo Starr proclaimed loudly at the end of 4 minutes, 30 second sound machine that was Helter Skelter.
Janie paused the CD, she'd skipped to and fro among the tracks for the last fifteen minutes, and they had to be nearing her father's house, hadn't they? He only lived twenty minutes away. According to Janie.
"Either of you smoke?" Janie asked, shooting a glance in the rearview mirror at the couple.
Both shook their heads.
"More for me," she shrugged and she pulled out of her cigarette pack what was obviously not a cigarette, but a rolled joint. A lighter soon followed after, and she clenched the white paper between her teeth, one hand steering the car, the other flicked the lighter open, catching the paper aflame and before too long, the car was filled with the scent of marijuana.
She smiled into the rearview mirror, the kind that said 'look at me, I'm so cool' and blew a smoke ring. "Mary Jane is my bestest friend in the world," she cooed. Honestly, she sounded kind of stupid, but at the same time, it was intimidating. How could she drive and do that stuff? What if they crashed?
"C'mon, don't tell me you're straight edge," she grinned at their stunned faces, handing the joint back, "Just one puff and you'll thank me later."
Reluctantly, Fang took it between his fingers. He wasn't suppose to do this. It was bad for you, tar in your lungs, clouded your sensibility... got you high. He couldn't come back high, Max would kill him! Yet... it was so alluring. The thought of smoke curling from his mouth, the leaves, rolled up in crisp white paper. It was almost romantic.
Trembling, he raised it to his lips, Janie watched him from the mirror, "That's it, now just breathe in. You won't get high, maybe just a little buzzed, I promise you. I'll keep you safe."
He took a deep breath in before putting the butt firmly between his lips, was he ready to do this? Did he even want to? No... and yes.
Before he could think about it even more, he took a long, hard, drag in. Filling his lungs with the sweet smoke and intoxicating his senses. His throat was burning, and so were his nostrils, and before he could stop himself, he pulled the light away, coughing and choking on his own saliva.
"There you go, now, breathe," Janie commanded. He did so, and he started to feel a bit better, "Good job, now, share the love, darling. Pass it on."
Fang cleared his throat and handed the joint to Iggy. Who rolled it between his forefinger and thumb for a brief moment before politely declining.
"Straight edge, eh? My own brother," Janie shook her head as she took a drag, "Shame, that is. Dad won't want to hear that."
"What do you mean?" Iggy asked curiously, a confused lilt in his voice. Fang was about to ask the same thing himself. Disappointed? Wasn't the whole point of parents to keep you from doing drugs?
"I hate to break it to you, but our father is a pot smoking, acid tripping, hippie," Janie explained, "And our mother, an ex pot smoking, acid tripping, hippie."
"Oh," Iggy said slowly, "I see."
"You're scared?"
"No, not really."
"Good," she smiled into the rearview mirror, "Because Dad's gonna be thrilled to see you."
"That's good," Iggy sighed, his fingers drumming against the armrest in the door. His attention had obviously gone elsewhere, and Janie had noticed. So, she hit shuffle on her CD player and took another, long drag off her joint.
Fang's attention also began drift, because damn, there was no way his family would ever be this exciting. If he met his parents, if!, then the most that would happen is that his mother would turn out to be a crack head. Which was probably the truth, anyways.
He could picture it, a one bedroom apartment, a battery powered, black and white TV and a mattress that smelled like piss. That would be the life of his mother. He said mother, because he'd pretty much been assured that she had no idea who the father was. Maybe she'd know by then, and maybe they'd be married.
Of course, there was the "perfect" vision. Just like Iggy's sister's house, without the evil step-dad and stoner daughter. In that vision, his mother had fixed herself up, married his father and had a couple of kids his age. Wait, no, no kids. Instead, they'd have been waiting this entire time for their son to return. Well, that wasn't gonna happen, but it was a really, really nice thought.
When they were little, Fang, Iggy and Max used to play pretend, just like any other kids, but instead of pretending to be adventures in a far off land, or that they were royalty, they played the "My Parents Are" game.
This game consisted of each kid taking a turn describing who their parents were. And this game never got old, because their parents were constantly evolving. From actors and actresses, to simply housewives and businessmen, to explorers of the Amazon. Their parents were ideal, they were interesting, and they could do no wrong.
"My parents," Max licked her lips thoughtfully as her eyes fluttered towards the ceiling. She was seated on top of the gurney that was serving as their story-telling chair, in their storage room that was serving as their play room, in the laboratory that was serving as their home. She looked happy, as she was considering the options of whom her parents might be today, which was a rare vision in it's self, but today they were especially happy. Because this had been one of their even rarer days spent outside, away from the harsh, chemical smell and blinding, fluorescent light bulbs of the School.
"My parents are rich. Really, really rich. They have a big, big house with three stories, and lots and lots of rooms filled with books and toys. And a swimming pool in the back, with a slide and all sorts of stuff like that. They own a dog, a big, black dog and sometimes he plays in the pool too.
"My parents are so rich, they don't even have to work anymore, so they stay home all day and watch movies on a big TV and read books. All the classics, Hans Christian Anderson and everything like that. 'Cause they're real smart like that.
"And, when I get back they'll throw me a big party, with a huge cake and a petting zoo, and they'll invite all their friends, and all their friends kids, and we'll play all sorts of games until they have to go. And I'll go back to my favorite room, on the top floor with a big window so I can fly out whenever I want, and I'll go and fly all around the country and still be back in time for breakfast." Max sighed happily, she sat there for a moment, illuminated from behind by the light of the setting sun, and then quickly hopped off the gurney and plopped down next to Fang.
"You're turn!" she said, smiling broadly, high off the fantasy of a normal life.
"Well, I have one question," Iggy said as Fang stood up and took his seat on the gurney.
"What?" Max gave him a 'what is it this time?' look, complete with eye roll.
"Are we invited to this party?"
Now, Max had to laugh at that. And she did, lightly shoving him in the shoulder by way of apology for her earlier attitude.
"Shh!" he cried, though he himself was still laughing quite loudly, "It's Fang's turn!"
Max muffled a snort, and their eyes fell back upon Fang, who was desperately trying to conceal a smug grin on his face.
"My parents aren't rich," Fang started slowly, "but they live in a nice house. With two stories... and a big yard. Um... my dad's a fireman, and my mom's a nurse." he paused, unsure of what to say next.
"They don't have any kids, besides me. And um, a cat. That's it." Fang wasn't really much of a dreamer. Well, he was, all kids are, but he was more reluctant to dream out loud. Seeing as, well, he knew he could never ever compare to what Iggy came up with.
Iggy had a way with words that Fang simply couldn't get his head around. He'd describe foreign lands, exotic jobs, and amusement parks for houses, but still sound completely realistic. His speech wasn't splattered with 'um's and awkward pauses, but it wasn't planned out, either. It came right off the top of his head. Absolutely amazing.
So, Fang took his place besides Max and let Iggy do what it was that he did best of all of them, tell a story.
"My parents," Iggy said confidently, "live in Spain. They're not Spanish, my mom's actually from Florida, and my dad's from England, but they moved there after they won the lottery. They didn't keep all the money, of course. They donated almost all of it, but they took the leftovers and built themselves a castle in Spain. Right on the beach, and while their house was being built, they purchased a condo in the South of France, which they now use as a vacation home.
"They don't have any kids, of course, because they decided they'd wait for me to get back before they had anymore. But they invite my cousins over all the time, and they go swimming in the ocean and take boat trips all across the Mediterranean.
"They have a room, the biggest room in the house, and it's almost completely empty. Except for my mom's painting supplies. Since they won the lottery, they both stopped working, or working normal jobs. My dad's a writer, and my mom illustrates his books. But when I get back, they're gonna move her paint supplies onto the roof, so she can paint the sunset, and I'm gonna get to pick out all new furniture and clothes. Some of my favorite books, too.
"For my birthday, they'll change one of the guest bedrooms to an instrument room, with all sorts of instruments. A piano, an electric guitar, an acoustic, a bass, a cello, a violin, a saxophone and a trumpet. Plus whatever other instruments I want to get.
"And, unlike Max, I'll invite all of you over to the South of France for the entire summer, and we'll stay there and go flying everyday until the sun goes down and we go to bed in a room made out of gold." Iggy hopped off the bed before he'd even finished his last sentence, there was an ever so slight pink tinge to his cheeks, and he was looking quite intently at the floor. He was embarrassed, how modest of him.
"Iggy," Max said, stepping over Fang and bending down to pat Iggy's back, "that was amazing."
"No, it wasn't," Iggy mumbled to the floor.
"It was," Fang said, putting his own hand on Iggy's forearm, "And you know it, stupid."
Iggy smirked, pulling his head up, "I guess it was okay."
Max groaned and threw up her hands in frustration, but Fang could only grin, because the look on Iggy's face said it all.
"We're here," Janie said, as the car came to a stop in front of a small apartment building.
The sign in front read 'Axis Apartments', but someone had spray painted two sets of initials inside a shaky looking heart over the 'Axis' part. Not to mention the fact that the sign it's self was falling off of it's hinges. There were a couple of kids playing on some rusty monkey bars, and two college students were attempting to coax the two swings down after someone had swing them over the bars. There was also a third and forth, or there had been, now there were just a few, broken, rusty chains wrapped around the bar.
In all honesty, Fang sincerely hoped that they were walking down the block and around the corner, where he saw a non-graffitied sign which read 'Global Apartments- World Class Luxury', then again, what kind of pot smoking, acid tripping hippie would live in a world class, luxury apartment?
"Are you guys coming?" Janie asked as she slammed her door shut.
"Oh, yeah," Fang realized he'd been staring out the window for the past minute or two, and was therefore holding their entire party up. Quickly, he kicked open the door and hopped out, and Iggy quickly followed. The other boy reached for Fang's belt loop, but Fang intercepted him and instead took his hand.
"Let's go!" Janie said, tapping her foot impatiently. In some weird way, the dark haired girl was beginning to remind him of Max. Fang wasn't quite sure if that was a good thing for a bad thing.
Fang and Iggy hurried after, up to the doorway, where Janie was buzzing the forth bell, with the name Derrick barely showing through the dirt and grim on the name plate.
"Yah?" the voice on the other end sounded electronic and crack-ly, and just a little bit dazed and confused, in all honesty.
"Dad, it's Janie." She said loudly.
"Oh, what's up?"
"I brought you some visitors!"
"Visitors, Janie, you know I don't-"
"Trust me, Dad, you'll love them." She said firmly.
"Alright, alright, I'll buzz you in." The door bell crackled and then gave an electronic beeping noise, to which Janie responded by quickly throwing open the door and ushering Fang and Iggy inside.
Where they were met by a stale, disgusting stench of dead animals, and a grungy looking grey set of stairs. Disgusting, absolutely revolting. How could anyone live here?
"Ready for a light jog up the stairs?" Janie grinned wildly, putting a bony hand on the blackened handrail.
Fang was fully prepared to say "No, not really," but she had already disappeared around the corner. It seemed sprinting up the stairs was something she did on a regular basis, because when Fang looking up, he could see the tips of her fingers barely grazing the railing, going quite quickly up said three flights of stairs.
"Shall we?" Fang asked, this question being directed at Iggy, who couldn't help grinning at the lilt in Fang's tone.
"We shall." was Iggy's reply.
Of course, they were quite a bit slower. Iggy, being blind, had to feel his way up the steps gently, taking his own dear time. Fang didn't really mind, true, he would have loved to race past Janie, but he knew it wasn't fair to Iggy, so he kept a leisurely pace, a few steps ahead of the blonde boy.
Half way up, Janie came down to meet them. She had a look on her face that said 'What the fuck is taking so long?' but once she realized what it was, she promptly softened her glare and took her place a few steps ahead of Fang, who had returned to his place by Iggy's side.
She made polite, if not rapid, conversation about Iggy's father, describing him and the life he lived for the blind boy. On another note, her quick speech made her seem quite Nudge like, though he suppose that was just a nervous habit for her, not like Nudge, for whom it was an all the time habit.
Speaking of Nudge, what was she doing? How was the rest of the flock? Where they having the same experience? Or a better one? A worse one, even?
"Ah, come on!" Fang cried, throwing his hands down in frustration. He was standing at the end of the hall, tapping his foot impatiently, whilst Iggy was taking his sweet time. Swaying to and fro as he walked, with a tired yawn here and there.
"Ih-GEE!" Fang moaned.
"What's the rush?" Iggy shrugged, yawning again, "They're gonna catch us anyways."
"Not if you run faster!" You see, Fang and Iggy were in the middle of a transfer from one part of the School to the other when they made a break for it. They'd run down a few dark hallways, up a flight of stairs and ducked into a closet while they waited for their pursuers to run by. Once they did, they run back down the flight of stairs and took a quick right, leading them to where they were now.
For some reason, Iggy was about to spoil it all.
"Just calm down, we've got all the time in the world."
"No we don't!" Fang groaned and ran back towards Iggy, grabbing him roughly by the arm and dragging him forward.
"Fa-ANG!" Iggy's turn to whine.
Jesus Christ, could that kid go any slower?
"God dammit!" Fang cursed the loud, self-conscious curse of an eight-year-old who just learned to swear, "Suit yourself!" He flounced down the hallway without a second thought, though he had something quite different in mind.
He pressed his back up against the wall, counted to five and waited. Sure enough, Iggy turned the corner only five seconds after Fang, calling out "Wait up!"
Fang, being a completely remorseless soul, jumped out at him, yelling "Boo!"
And when Iggy screamed like an idiot, Fang just burst into laughter.
It took about six knocks, but Derrick eventually answered the door, in a pair of boxers, a tye-dye t-shirt and a plaid bathrobe, but he answered, nevertheless.
"Dad!" Janie cried, throwing her thin arms around her father, who looked almost completely unrelated to his daughter. He had a leathery, dark tan and once brown, now grey hair, with muddy colored eyes with bits of gold shimmering when the light catches him. He has the look of a once thin man who turned middle aged. He still was quite thin, toothpicks for arms and legs, but a small beer gut was beginning to show.
"Janie, Janie, Janie! My Janie!" He said loudly, as if he couldn't believe it himself, "Good to see you! Excellent to see you!"
It seems he liked to repeat himself.
"Dad," her voice was a little more tense as she pulled herself away, obviously hugs over ten seconds were just a little uncomfortable for her, especially when it looked like the other party was squeezing her to death, "I want to introduce you to two very special people."
"Ah, who's that? Your boyfriend? Fiancee, maybe?" he grinned, "You know I've got to inspect him before things get too serious."
"No, Dad," Janie laughed a little bit, but it sounded more like a polite laugh than a real one to Fang, "Even better."
Fang sucked in a quick breath of air as his hands clasped in front of him. How would this encounter go? Derrick wasn't like the step-father, that was obvious, but would he be any better? Mr. Armani gave them a check, but it wasn't exactly affection or welcoming. Would Derrick be able to offer that?
And if he did, what were they to do? Turn down his kind offers saying 'No, actually, we're going into hiding now.' They couldn't do that. It wouldn't be right.
But, then again, it was what they had to do.
"Dad?" Janie's voice was just a bit shrill with excitement, "I want you to meet your son, Iggy, and his friend, Fang."
His jaw hit the floor, "Son? You're, you're really my... son?" His voice trembled with anxious hope, and his eyes were beginning to look glassier by the second. Now this was the reaction they had been hoping for, the perfect vision of what their parents would do when they finally met. Minus the bathrobe, perhaps, but it was still a lovely vision, even if Derrick's fashion sense, or lack thereof, was altering it.
He put his arms around Iggy, embracing him like a true son, then did the same to Fang, and then turning back to his daughter.
"Oh god, come in, all of you!" He cried, throwing the door open with vigor to reveal the small, dingy apartment within.
The house may not be perfect, and Derrick certainly wasn't any closer, but for some reason, everything felt... right at that moment. This is what they had been waiting for. And truly, it was worth every second of it.
A hundred reviews, oh my shit I love you guys. Seriously, this is one of the best writing experiences I've ever had. We should finish up in approximately 2-3 chappies. But I definitely got to say thanks to all of you that stick with me and keep reviewing... I promise, I won't let you guys down!