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Beautiful Music
THAT 70's SHOW
by Jennifer Ryan
09/20/07

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Landslide

Red walks around the couch and then doubles back. He's pacing - not nervously, but like a predator hot on the trail of idiot teenager. He sits in his chair, stands, sits again and tries to speak, but stops and stands up again. He appears to be composing the speech to himself first - struggling to choose his words carefully and trying his best not to explode.

Eric sits next to me, eyes hurt and disbelieving. I was a dick to do this; that fact is not lost on me. Eric's spent the last month so terrified that his father would find out about us and turn on him, that I've taken things into my own hands. Problem solved; he knows. Like I said, it was a dick move, but it had to happen and now we can get it over with and get on with our lives. I'm a fighter, have been since day one; Eric is, too - he just doesn't realize it yet.

"Boys, when I was in Korea there were a couple of ... nancy boys ... in my unit. Nice enough guys, it seemed. Hell, when we weren't making fun of them we let them cook and do our laundry. Basically, it was a deal that worked out well for everyone."

I tense and cross my arms tight around me, both angry and afraid. "What is your point?"

"Knock it off, smart ass. Now listen, I know your girlfriends left you and you're both confused." He stands behind the sofa and puts one hand on my shoulder and one on Eric's and kneads hard. "Very, very confused." He leans over and puts an arm around each of us and smiles. "So, I'm willing to cut you two a deal. Whatever you are doing; whatever you're thinking about doing, it ends right here. It will never be thought about or mentioned again and daddy will be happy."

"Yes, sir." Eric says quietly while looking at the floor, much like he always does. Just like I will never do.

"No."

Red is sure I didn't hear him, so he repeats himself, as do I. Eric stammers my name and I grab him, repeating angrily, "NO. We talked about this. We talked about everything. We decided together and you PROMISED me."

He flys off the sofa and I lunge for him, but he dodges me, taking the stairs two at a time. I want to follow but Red grabs me and even though I'm beyond ready to knock him unconscious, I pull the punch and he steps away. "I was promised. I was promised this!" I climb the stairs and stand outside Eric's door, hitting it as hard as I can and scream so loud, Mrs. Forman comes into the hall. I hear myself scream, YOU FUCKING PROMISED ME! but don't realize I'm crying until I slide to the floor and Red is hugging me.

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El Señor Fernando Eduardo Zayas-Bazán de Point Place

Fez and I skulk the city, bored and cruising for the kind of fun less than two dollars and thirty-six cents can provide. Every girl in town is engaged or already has a boyfriend she won't dump for us, we don't have enough gas to make it to a movie theater and the arcade game at the breakfast place is busted. So we drive, on the look out for action, no matter how slight.

"And so then, I totally caught Eric and Hyde trying to do it and I like, freaked out Hyde completely. And then for no reason at all, he just up and punches me right in the eye."

"Of course he punched you in the eye, you moron. Eric is a beautiful boy and Hyde was about to get lucky and maybe have sexual intercourse for the first time since Jackie the Goddess told him to kiss her beautiful ass."

"Well, yeah, but they were both being totally gay. It was my duty as their friend to sneak up on them and try to scare them to death. Heh - you should have seen their faces, man, SUPER BURN!"

"If Eric and Steven have decided to be gay, then there will be much more pudding in this town for you and for me, my friend."

"Holy crap, that's genius! I might even have a chance with Donna if she ever comes back. I mean, G-d and everybody knows I tried to touch her boob a lot of times. With Eric out of the picture, it's boob city, man."

Fez sighs dreamily, "Boob city is such a happy place, but Fez is still very sad. Everyone is leaving me or becoming homosexual. I am floating alone on an island of manliness. Alone ... so, so alone."

"Hey, I'm on man island, too! It is stictly pudding for this hombre. Although - I had PE class with Hyde for two years. I bet he's seen me naked a zillion times. Now, I'm just stating fact here, but I am one damn beautiful man; so what the hell?"

"It is true, you are very beautiful, but also you are a cheating no good whore. Eric would make a much better housewife for Steven."

"That's BS. Not the no good whore part, cause I admit it, but ... Eric is not a better housewife than I am."

"Eric will be one million times the housewife you could ever be. He is an anchor of emotional support and stability for Steven and what he lacks in masculine beauty is compensated for in pleasant disposition."

"Alright, you got me. Eric is awfully pleasant to be around. And he's even girly like a wife. I mean, I may be beautiful like a girl, but I so do not act like a girl, you know what I mean."

"I do know."

"Fez, man, I just had a really great idea."

"I have had the same very great idea! We should buy an apartment and live there together and fullfill Fez's dream of becoming a swinging American bachelor who has many women at his apartment!"

"Oh. Well, yeah that's a good idea, too, but I was going to say you should pull into the A & P and get a super slushie with triple syrup and ten packets of sugar in it."

"You always have the best ideas, Michael. Promise we will be friends forever and ever and that you will never leave or become gay."

"I promise."

"And also will you loan me money for a slushie?"

"OK. Hey Fez, if we really get an apartment together, you need to know that sometimes when I poop I like to read comics. It can take like, a whole hour sometimes."

"Then we will need two bathrooms because I also like to do this. Michael?"

"Yeah?"

"Promise also that we will have Eric and Steven over for a dinner party. A fancy one where we dress up nicely and use good place settings."

"Oh, I am so down with that! You know, I can make cheesy macoroni and fish sticks with almost no supervision."

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Landslide

When I wake, I'm curled in the middle of the Forman's bed and Kitty is taking off my shoes and mumbling nonsence about boys and their big, dirty feet on her nice clean covers. I open my eyes and she laughs nervously, "But I love you anyway, honey."

I feel wrung out bad and disoriented. Everything is turned off and the room is moonlit, telling me it's night time now. Mrs. Forman stretches out beside me and carefully begins with the psychological analysis I knew was coming long ago.

"Sweetheart ..."

I tell her calmly and with a great sense of resignation, "Don't."

"I'm not trying to trivialize your feelings."

There is a picture of white and yellow flowers on the wall and I stare at it to keep from breaking down. She is the last person I ever want to argue with about anything. I love her. She is the mother I never had.

She strokes my hair soft and easy, lingering long to play with the curls. "I know you've been very confused and lonely." I roll over so I'm no longer facing her because, literally, I just can't face her right now. I don't understand why she didn't go hold Eric and let Red come in here and smack me sensless while calling me a dumb ass. "Everything you are feeling right now is valid and ... it's going to be all right. But you realize, honey, that this isn't - that this just can not happen."

I scrunch my eyes together and bite down hard on my tongue. Why the hell isn't Red in here yelling at me? This is bullshit psychological warfare.

"Steven, you know that - we just love you so much."

I can't speak so I jump off the bed and am careful not to look back. If I look back, I'll cry. Nobody EVER fucking makes me cry - ever. Except maybe this morning during my break down. Dammit.

I walk to Eric's room. When I open the door he will run to me, jump into my arms and say he loves me no matter what. I've always believed he has and I have to believe it now. If he doesn't - if he refuses me; I may as well die. He's stronger than what I've been seeing; he fought so hard for Donna. He didn't give a damn about what anyone thought, especially not Red. Why the hell does this have to be so different? She left - she abandonned him; not one time, many times. Over and over; second best - Donna's time filler until something better came along. I break from these thoughts when I realize I'm paused at the door, too afraid to turn the knob. I'm kidding myself. He'll shy away and I will have lost the only person in this world who has ever really loved me. The only who has stayed. The one who promised and then muffed out, or is possibley maybe almost about to. I crack the door and see his father on the bed with him, talking softly and nonstop. I can't hear it, but am sure it's the same speech as was meant for me, but with a generous peppering of ass for a hat.

I've never felt so alone in all my life. I walk down to the kitchen and take Red's last six pack from the refrigerator. Kitty follows far behind and watches me without a word. I walk out the back door, flip the car radio on, and purch atop the Vista Cruiser, guzzling a beer quickly as I light a cigarette. Jackie and Donna left almost four months ago. A summer trip to visit Jackie's "fat" aunt in Chicago is now a new home, or it will be for at least four years. Because I pissed Jackie off too many times or because loving Eric constituted settling, I'll never know.

The myriad reasons leading up to this are unimportant. If things could have stayed the same forever, I would have let them. Eric loved Donna and I would have done anything to ensure their happiness together. I would have been his best man if he asked me. I would stand outside Donna's room at Le Hotel and pull the fire alarm all night long if another man took her there. I would have been an uncle to their babies and slept in their fucking basement for the rest of my life, if it meant we could be together. I would have dreamed every night about having him to take care of and shower with love. Maybe now I'll get a dog instead.

Or maybe Donna will come back and say she was all wrong. They'll get back together and Katherine and Reginald will be overjoyed. No one will point or gossip or ask wrong, uncomfortable questions and it will never matter to me one bit, because I will have long since jumped off a bridge. Edna was right all along. Life is shit. I close my eyes and listen to the music. ... sail through the changing ocean tides ... handle the seasons of my life ...

I open another beer and the volume of my music fades low. I turn to see Red standing behind me, fiddling with the radio. "Which band is this playing?"

I shrug, then down the entire can and toss it to the ground. Instead of walking away, he sits next to me on the hood and takes one of his beers. "Well, it's a really nice song. Usually the bands you two listen to are obnoxious." His humor falls nowhere but flat. I haven't the energy or desire to help this conversation in any way. In fact, I plan to make every second of this as painful and difficult as I possibley can. I ignore him and open another beer, which he takes away from me. "Slow it down; you don't have enough brain cells left to kill."

I take it back and thank him profusely for the loving words of flattery, at which he rolls his eyes in disgust. "Red, man, whatever you came out here to threaten me with is a waste of your breath. I love him and I will never leave him. But he won't come away unless he knows you'll be alright, so do everyone a favor and let him down easy. Tell him you'll learn to live without a son. I'm more than happy to take him off your hands permanently and I can guarantee you we will never, ever call or write and you'll never have to be humiliated by either of us."

"Well, Steven, it so happens that I can't live without a son. And neither one of you is going anywhere, so back it up a notch and quit being such a hard ass." He pauses and looks away from me and I'm both thrilled and ashamed to have hurt him, even if slightly. He's quiet a long time and obviously uncomfortable. "Steven, does Eric ever talk about his Uncle Martin?"

"I met him when your mom died." I think back to Red introducing Marty to everyone as his sister. If he ever has anything to do with either of us again after tonight, I expect we will share Marty's same sad and pathetic fate.

Red looks down at the asphalt and tells me, "He was a year younger than you guys the first time he tried to kill himself."

I'm surprised and know it shows. "Eric never told me that."

"Eric didn't know until tonight. There are things you don't tell your children, Steven. My old man was a real brutal bastard."

"Your dad was cop, right?"

"Yeah." He downs his beer, as if to drown bad memories, and takes the last one. "What he did doesn't matter anymore; he's gone and it's over."

"I'll bet it still matters to poor crazy Uncle Marty."

"When my father died, I made good and damn sure his anger was buried with him. But it doesn't mean I'm not really mad, because I am ..., " he balls up his fist at me as he looks for the right words. "... really, really mad." I look away and he takes me by the arm to force my attention. "No matter what happens with you and Eric, I am NOT going to live through the Marty fiasco again. I still believe to this day there were no survivors of that mess."

"What the hell happened?"

"Like I said, there are things you don't tell your children." He slides off the hood and picks up the beer cans and my cigarette butts. "Now you get your ass in that house, tell Eric good night, and then go downstairs to YOUR bed, in YOUR room." As he opens the kitchen door, he turns back and clarifies, "by YOURself! We'll sort this out tomorrow."

I turn off the radio and stand alone in the driveway for just a moment to look at the stars. Did Red Forman just NOT kick my ass out of his house? I scan the yard for a likeness of the Virgin Mary, as this might qualify as some kind of miracle.

See, it's just like I told Eric all along, everything is going to be OK. He's going to have learn to have complete and unquestioning faith in me. I have never been wrong and I never doubted anything - for more than a minute. I briefly wonder who I think I'm fooling; that was so close I almost barfed on myself.

I take the stairs to Eric's room quietly and he opens the door before I can. I can tell he's shaken, but he's smiling, too. He calls me an asshole, throws his arms around my neck and we smooch the life out of each other. We lay on his spiderman sheets and talk until four in the morning. He tells me Red has decided we get to live and that he even maybe loves us a little bit. And we hold onto each other tight, that little bit more than either of us really dreamed possible.

It's difficult to believe the same landslide that ravages every thing in its path can also transforms that same landscape into a beautiful clean slate. For every day of the rest of my life, I've little doubt Red Forman will remind me of the night he gained two daughters instead of lost a son. And then, of course, Mrs. Forman is calling Pastor Dave tomorrow. You win some, you lose some.

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To be continued

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For those illegally downloading the soundtrack

:) Landslide by Fleetwood Mac