Locke in the Lot
I do not own the Sandlot
Start of an Adventure?
"Get out of the house."
I looked up from my pastel blue covers and raised an eyebrow at my parents. It's only been one day since we got here and now they want me out of the house? Aren't parents supposed to lock up their daughters up in their rooms? I'm not saying that they're not doing a fantastic job at being the best parents in the world, but I would guess at this age, they would prevent me from seeing the sunshine and breathing fresh air. We're trying to be a normal family, and they're deciding that it's a good idea to kick me out of the house as a start.
Good riddance.
"Why?" I asked them as I finally sat upright and knitted my eyebrows together. With arms crossed over my chest and a clear, stoic face, I put my foot down and refused to leave the room. I know I always left the apartment in Brooklyn to go on my "adventure", but I just really want to spend as much time as I can with my parents here in the Valley. After all, I just want to live the normal life of an American teenage girl and spend time with my parents.
"Starting today, your mother and I are going to start tidying up the house, and the two of us have decided that maybe you can do some shopping for us," Daddy implied, grinning from ear to ear. Soon enough, Momma sat down on my comforters and stroked my mousy, tousled hair.
"Mi amor, mi hija! Go outside! Explore the world!" Momma said as she handed me a grocery list, "And you can do that, while going shopping!"
With a softened expression and a light smile, I gazed at them. Surely, I had to agree. Either way, I'm going to have to go. I get the choice to either: one, walk around with my nightgown on; which two, I won't ever dare to do; that also leads me to three, complying with their orders without any other hesitation. Soon enough, I found myself stretching my arms over my head and jumping out of bed. "I'll be down in a bit, alright?" I said to my parents as I started to brush through the knots in my hair. With that, they descended out of my room, leaving me to do nothing but get ready.
Don't get me wrong, I enjoy "dressing up" as most girls do, but I don't really get all riled up with doing so to impress anyone. There's not really a point if I do so. Even though I try to dress in the prettiest outfits I can find, I'm not trying to make an impression on someone. Who would I even impress in the first place? Last time I checked, I had as much charm as a rock, lying in the middle of the street, waiting to pop someone's tire. I guess, in a way, I'm trying to impress myself because that's really the only person that I need to impress. After all, it's good to have a decent amount of self-esteem. Right? Normal people have that, right?
Oh, and don't worry—I'll get to that story sometime later.
As I glanced at my reflection in the vanity's mirror, I pulled my hair up in a ponytail and adjusted my pastel pink bow just above it. I was only going to the market, right? You didn't need to use the shower before going off to a market, right? It's not like anyone is going to be sniffing me anytime soon. What's the point? As of result, I threw on my heather gray t-shirt and pastel pink skirt to match my bow. And that was it. I was done and was ready to take on the Valley. Sort of.
I mean, I just transferred here from Brooklyn after Daddy decided to move us here. He got transferred to Los Angeles a while back and decided to move us here to the Valley just to spend more time with us. I don't even know where to begin! Which way do I head? Here? There? How about over there? Hell, I may even get lost and won't come home until the next week when the police find me. That's how clueless I am. But hey, I'm happy about the move. No more traffic to deal with or having to worry about taking a bullet to the head when out on the street.
Today was the perfect day to lose my sense of direction inside a market, y'know, just one of those days. There I was, standing in the middle of the aisle, swearing colorfully. (You would, too, if you had no idea where you were—especially in an unfamiliar place like this.) Sure, I ended up finding almost all of the things on the list, but I was far too exhausted to even think about scouting for the other uncrossed items. So far, I guess I'm getting the hang of this place. Maybe. Almost. Nope. Not at all.
"Butter, milk, eggs, bread," I mumbled under my breath as I walked out of the market with the brown paper bag at hand. A relatively small list that causes a great pain. So far, all I really need at this point are a few bottles of Tylenol, some pop, baseballs, and softballs. I'm not too sure on why he wanted the baseballs—he has a plethora of them in Los Angeles. In his locker. In Los Angeles.
And so, I walked down the sidewalk, in hopes to gather the rest of the things just in time for lunch. That's when I stopped my tracks. Was I really so desperate to go home this soon? I guess this is what happens when you never have friends. I guess I did have friends back in Brooklyn, but we were never too close to the point where we hung out in public together. The most we would be with each other would be if we were in school or on the field playing ball. Other than that, I never really had a best friend or whatever you would like to call them. On days like this, I would be with Momma or Daddy by cleaning up the house or practicing my pitches for softball. Somehow, I managed to isolate myself from the crowd for a majority of my life, and I'm not too sure if there's something wrong with me.
Next thing I knew, I kept on walking forward and soon found myself hanging around inside Vincent's Drug Store. It reminded me of Brooklyn, somehow. With its rusty, paint-chipped shelves, dim lighting, and a typical old man running the counter, I seemed highly convinced that this would be the only place I wouldn't feel so foreign to. The other parts of the Valley? Well, this is only one side. I can't make a general opinion of the entire place, but I can already tell that I'm going to like this place. After all, I'm going to be staying here for the next few years; I might as well make myself comfortable by hanging around the places that remind me of home, right?
I browsed through the old, decrepit shelves and sighed. There I was, gazing at the group of baseballs that sat upon the shelf, only to snap back to reality when I heard a somewhat-familiar chime ring at the front.
"What's the matter?" a familiar voice called out to me. Turning around, I saw the face of a familiar Hispanic boy and smiled. This time, though, he didn't seem to enter the drug store alone. Eight other guys maybe? Just a little estimate.
"Well, just Benny, my parents kicked me out of the house to have to sweet time together and now I'm stuck shopping for them. Y'know, the usual," I said, picking up a small mesh bag of a dozen baseballs.
He raised an eyebrow at me leaned against the cracking, red brick wall. "First, they let you suffer by forcing you to carry in boxes and now they're kicking your ass outta the house to do their shopping for them? Your parents must seem to be very caring people," he said, watching the other guys scattering themselves to different parts of the store. I chuckled a bit as I watched him curve his thin lips into a smile.
"Eh, they're not that bad. They're my parents—they're supposed to do that."
"And you're their daughter. I would expect a face like that to be locked up in a room with bars hanging around the window."
It was my time to raise my eyebrows, but just as I was about to reply, another voice cut me off, "Benny's gettin' some!"
Confused, I looked around to see a new stranger with big framed, black glasses and a grin that could stretch for miles. Soon enough, the eyes of the other boys were on me, and I've never felt more uncomfortable in my entire life. It was as if they were staring at me for hours and an eerie silence began to fill the store. Well, until Benny cleared his throat and whispered, "Sorry."
I only returned a half-smile and replied, "It's 'ight."
Then, the group of boys soon gathered around the two of us, and it was at that time that I've never felt so tiny. I was probably taller than maybe one, two, or maybe even three of the guys, but I couldn't help but feel so…overwhelmed. I bit my bottom lip and looked back at Benny whom was looking down at the ground with eyes closed. A sigh escaped his lips as he looked back up and gestured towards me. "This is Marcia," he started, "Marcia, these are the guys—"
He introduced them from left to right.
"Ham Porter—"
Daggers were thrown at me as I gulped.
"Tommy and Timmy Timmons—"
Makes me wish that I had a brother.
"Yeah-Yeah McClennan—"
'Yeah-Yeah'?
"Kenny DeNunez—"
Ooh, Kansas City Monarchs hat!
"Squints Palledorous—"
I never thought that the Cheshire Cat smile was real. Damn!
"Bertram Weeks—"
Damn tall.
"And Smalls—"
Aww…he's so cute.
With that, I grinned and checked the wall clock hanging above.
12:07
"Shit!" I exclaimed, rushing over to the counter to pay.
Now that really caught their attention. Their eyes widened as I settled the mesh bag, Tylenol, and pop on the counter, while at the same time, pulling out a five dollar bill from my skirt's pocket. The old man at the counter soon began packing up the items in a tiny plastic bag and offered me the change. "Oh no, you can keep the change, sir," I said as I began to jet off to home.
"And what took you so long, Little Miss?"
"You're expecting me to know this place like the back of my hand on the first day? I know that you have high expectations, but I didn't know that it was that high."
"Well, Little Miss, I'll have you know that we've been invited to dinner from one of the neighbors."
"Sweet Jesus."
"What's wrong with that?"
Daddy looked at me with a raised eyebrow as he plopped himself down on the chocolate brown leather couch. The hospitality in the Valley was creeping the shit outta me. No one has ever been this kind to us before. We've never even been invited to our neighbors' places back in New York. Eh, it's a first.
Right?
"Why're we even having dinner with them? They could be murderers! Have a collection of human corpses—children corpses!" I defended, throwing my arms up in the air to my parents. Their only response was keeping that stoic poker face plastered upon their faces.
"Little Miss, this is an opportunity for you to make friends! Isn't that great?" Momma said with a genuine smile. Why can't I have a smile like that?
Rolling my eyes, I parted my lips to speak, only to have Daddy interject, "Plus, they told your mother that their kid plays ball—you like ball, they like ball, it's perfect!"
"And aren't you supposed to be planning out your baseball camp for July? Daddy, we've got better things to do."
"It's not until July, and your mother and I think that you should make friends."
"Shouldn't that happen until school starts?"
"I don't want to have to go to the principal because you're not sitting with anyone."
"They tripped me."
"Marcia, you will make friends this summer. I don't give a shit if you have to run from the cops—your mother and I just want you to make friends."
"It feels like we've had this conversation before."
"And I was damn proud when I picked you up from the police station."
Momma glared at Daddy as he smiled sheepishly. At that time, a couple of people from school decided it was a good idea to tag me along when they were about to shoplift a supermarket. In the end, we got caught, y'know, the typical stuff that happens in the end. It really isn't a fun story until Daddy picked me up from the police station. The other people just stopped and stared when Daddy high-fived me for ending up in the station. It was at that moment that I realized that my parents weren't exactly like any other parents in the world. And I was damn proud of them.
Momma spoke, "Anyways, did anything interesting happen when you were out?"
I smiled to myself and sat down on the couch in between the two of them. "Not necessarily," I replied.
It wasn't until six o'clock that we started to head off to the neighbors' house. Momma told me that they only moved here about two years ago, so she figured that we could somewhat relate to them. Daddy, on the other hand, didn't really care if they related to us in some way—he was only tagging along for the food and to watch me make my 'first friend'. Now, we've gone through this before—I have friends—just not best friends. In a way, his argument was invalid.
"What's their name?"
"The Smalls family."
"Smalls?" Huh, seems familiar.
"Yep, and tonight, I just want you to be yourself and make friends with their son."
Soon enough, Daddy stopped his tracks. He turned around to face Momma and snarled, "Son?"
She nodded, walking forward to reach the door of their house. "You've got a problem with that, Honey?"
"I don't want her first friend to be a boy."
"Is there a problem with that?"
"I don't want her to get corrupted.
Momma and I snorted. "Nate, the two of us both knew in the beginning that our child was going to get corrupted from the start."
Daddy groaned as Momma knocked on their mahogany door. Light footsteps was heard and soon enough, it was as if lightning had struck me.
Right.
Then.
And.
There.
Translations:
Mi amor, mi hija = my love, my daughter
A/N:
Well, I hope that this is better than the last one. By now, I think you already know what's up with the Lockes and shtuff, but I'm not going to confirm anything yet for the sake of it being only the beginning of the story. I'm still trying to make it less rushed, but I just couldn't help myself in this chapter. In this story, particularly, I'm trying to focus on characters and character development. So, don't expect any clear signs of affection soon.
Maybe just a lot of light flirting...maybe.
"But when is the baseball going to come in?" your pretty little face asks, 'cause, after all, THIS IS WHAT YOU CAME HERE FOR. Right? Well, the first five chapters will be about getting to familiarize ourselves with the characters. (It's been two years since the originalSandlotmovie, might I say once again.) AND THEN, we get to baseball for the next...ten chapters? Yep, because I'm justthathardcore.
Now that I think of it, should I really tell you the plans for the future? Well, I think I should mainly because I don't want anyone to get confused. Let's face it, though,we all know what's going to happen in the end.
...or do we?
And I don't think I want a schedule to update, y'know? It's kind of frustrating for me to write a chapter and then do nothing until the scheduled date. So...YAYZ FOR NO SCHEDULED UPDATING. Most likely the updates will be early like this one unless I give you a reason why. So...yep.
This is just the beginning...you have been warned.
And expect really long A/N's like this in every chapter, just sayin'.
I guess I'll end this chapter right here.
(OH WAIT. YEP.)
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*Silently begs for more reviews*
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And that's it—FOR NOW.
(Sorry for the accidental update earlier. Hehehe...sorry!)