AUTHOR'S NOTE: Like I said, I think this chapter will be better than the last one. We actually get to hear about some of Ralph's past in this chapter, or at least his school days. Warning: This chapter contains some mildly violent and depressing scenes. It is also one hell of a long read. This story will be fairly lengthy, so, you've been forewarned.
Legal Disclaimer and Crap: Everything I said in Chapter 1 still holds true for this chapter. I do not own the rights to the Raccoons. If I ever somehow do manage to acquire the rights to them (Which is VERY unlikely), I will be the first to let you know.
Chapter 2: From Birth To A Freshman In College
My story all begins on September 14, 1961. I was born in Evergreen Hospital in the Evergreen Forest, British Columbia, Canada. Or at least, that's what I thought for years. I actually recently researched my birth records since I couldn't find my birth certificate-and discovered, much to my surprise, I was born not in the Evergreen Forest, but in Billings, Montana, USA! It was quite a shock. I wondered why my parents never told me. I went to my parents to ask them why they never told me I was born in America. As it turns out, they had been on vacation at the time and happened to be stopped in Billings when my mother suddenly went into labor. I was a tad disappointed to learn I wasn't born here, but, at heart, I'll always be a natural resident of the Forest.
As I said, I was born on September 14, 1961, to Arthur and Millicent Raccoon. I don't remember anything from the first two and a half years of my life-I would be lying if I said I did! One of my first memories was of my big brother George leaving the house at 18. I was just three years old at the time. While he did complete high school and earn his high school diploma, he ultimately did not go to regular college-instead, he enrolled in a culinary school, far away in Toronto. As such, I don't have very many memories of George growing up, though when I did get older he did come to visit sometimes. And when I got older he did write to me from time to time.
At an early age, I discovered I had an interest in the news program. I remember being about four years old and intently watching the news programs on my parents' old black and white television. I always listened to what the reporters of the day would say-even if I could not understand all their words yet. I also read the newspaper my parents had delivered to their door. You see, at that time, there was no Evergreen Standard, so my parents instead were subscribed to the newspaper from the nearest big city. I would read all the articles and even attempt to complete the crossword puzzles, although I knew very few of the answers at that young an age. Despite my obvious interest in the news and journalism, my parents always assumed that I would follow in my uncle Rocky Raccoon's footsteps, and take up a career in aviation, as we had a history in it (my ancestors had been at Kitty Hawk, North Carolina for the Wright Brothers' first flight). Uncle Rocky was once a famous bush pilot, but he'd since taken up flying commercial airliners. When I was about five years old, Uncle Rocky gave me his old aviator's scarf that he had worn on all his missions. I've worn it ever since. I promised Uncle Rocky that I would follow his footsteps and become a pilot too. It was a promise I'd ultimately come to regret.
Then came my first day of school. It was the fall of 1966. I remember that day very well. My mother was packing my school lunch in a brown paper bag that morning.
"Good morning, little Ralphie, I'm packing your first school lunch, honey."
"But mom, I don't want to go to school. I'm scared what the other kids will think of me. What if they don't like me?"
"Oh, honey, I'm sure they will. It's nothing to worry about, you'll do fine. Now here's your lunch. Hurry Ralph, the bus should be waiting!"
"O-okay, Mom."
I walked out of my house and went to the bus stop. Within a few minutes the bus came, and I boarded it. The bus ride to Evergreen Elementary was uneventful. I was a rather shy kid, so I sat in the back so no one would notice me.
Soon the bus arrived and everyone exited the bus for our first day of school. I was the last one off the bus; I was really terrified and was shaking in my knees. I had yet to be this scared in my young life. But I slowly made my way to the door, where our teacher, Miss Primrose, was waiting.
"Hello there, little raccoon, what's your name?"
"R-ralph, ma'am."
"Ralph! Welcome to Evergreen Elementary, Ralph. I'm Miss Primrose, your teacher. I'm sure you'll have a great time learning here."
"U-uh, I don't know ma'am. I-I'm kind of scared. I don't think the other kids will like me at all."
"Ralph, you have no need to worry. You will get along fine with your classmates. I'm sure of it."
"A-are you sure?" I asked, still not fully believing her.
"I'm sure, Ralph. Now come on. There's a lot to learn here!"
"O-okay, Miss Primrose."
I entered the classroom, albeit rather nervously, and took my seat. Evergreen Elementary was a one room schoolhouse, so there were about 60 of us from kindergarten to the sixth grade. Despite my fears, the first few periods of the day went well, and I actually answered a couple questions asked by the teacher.
I thought to myself, "Maybe school won't be so bad, after all."
I was very wrong.
Soon, recess came. There was a special condition to recess-it was the time you were also allowed to eat your lunch. So I played in the sandbox and then sat down to eat my lunch, a wafer and an apple. As I prepared to take a bite of my apple, an older kid, an alligator, from a higher grade, came up to the sandbox.
"Hey, shorty. What'cha eating there?"
"An apple. My mom packed it for me." I replied to him. I noticed he called me "shorty", but I ignored it, as I thought to myself, "Maybe he wants to be my friend?"
"Looks good. I'd like to have a bite of that."
"But, my mother packed that for me. I don't want it to go to waste. Hey. I know. Maybe I can ask my mother tomorrow to pack an extra apple and then I can share it with you?" I thought I was being nice.
"That won't be necessary, shorty! I want that apple right now!"
"Huh?" A look of unease came over my face.
Then, much to my horror, the kid grabbed my apple out of my hand and took a big bite out of it. He then grabbed my lunch bag, pulled out the wafer, and ate it. I was mortified, to say the least.
"My lunch!" I cried. "Give it back to me, please!"
"I don't see your name on it. This is my lunch now!" He laughed at me. I was so upset, I tried to grab the apple out of his hand. Much to my surprise, he punched me in the arm, hard.
"OW!" I yelped in pain. This was what I was dreading since the moment I had woken up that day.
"But if you want food so bad, kid, here, have some DIRT!" He then grabbed me and buried my head into the sandbox, causing me to get a mouthful of sand. He laughed at my pain and fear.
"Haha, what's the matter, Shorty? Can't handle it?"
With tears streaming down my face, I cried out: "I want to go home! I want my mommy! MOMMY!"
"Aw, does the wittle baby want his mommy? Too bad!" He then punched me in the back of the head hard. I still have a small knot on the back of my head from where he punched me, if you look hard enough. He then pushed me back into the sandbox.
I was afraid I was going to be beaten to a bloody pulp. I curled up into a ball and cried, waiting for him to stop, when suddenly I heard a voice.
"Hey, what are ya doing? Leave that kid alone!" I looked up. It was another raccoon, one wearing a red sweater with the letter B on it.
"Huh?" I said, confused. Was he coming to help me?
"What do you want, you loser?" shouted the bully.
"Leave him alone. What did he do to you? I saw the whole thing and he didn't do anything to you. Leave him alone and pick on someone your own size!" said the other raccoon.
"Why should I?" asked the bully, scoffing.
"If you don't," the other raccoon replied, with a look of anger in his eyes, "then I'll take you on myself!"
The bully laughed that another younger kid wanted to take him on, but he replied, "Fine. He's not worth my time anyways." The bully (who I later learned was named Garth Knox, a younger brother of Cyril Sneer's rival, Mr. Knox) then went away.
Then the other raccoon spoke to me. "You don't look so good. Are you alright?"
"I-I think so. Why did you help me?"
"I don't think that was right what he did. You said you'd get another apple for him tomorrow and he stole your lunch and beat you up. That's not right."
"No, it's not…well, anyways, thank you."
"No problem. So, what's your name?"
"My name's Ralph Raccoon."
"Nice to meet you Ralph, I'm Bert Raccoon. I think we might be good friends."
"You want to be my friend? But…I thought no one here would want to be my friend…"
"Well, if nobody else does, I will. If anybody else picks on you, I've got your back, Ralph."
"Wow, really?"
"Sure. What are friends for?"
I smiled.
Then the bell that ended recess rang.
"Hey, recess is over." Bert said. "Why don't we talk on the way home?"
"Okay," I said. "I'll talk to you then."
The rest of the day passed uneventfully, though a couple of kids did comment on the large knot on the back of my head. Soon it was time to go home and we boarded the bus to go home. I sat next to Bert and we talked some more. It turned out we didn't live too far from each other. He lived right down the road from me, less than half a mile away. We decided we would visit each other's houses as often as we could. Not too long afterward, we built our clubhouse near Evergreen Lake and started our own club.
Three years went by and soon Bert and I were in the third grade. It was now 1970. We had been the best of friends, even though neither of us was very well-liked by the other students-I'd actually gathered a reputation of being a coward. We had visited each other's houses many times and our parents knew us well by now. But, on the first day of third grade, a new student arrived.
"Class," said Miss Primrose. "This is Cedric Sneer, son of the local enterprising businessman, Cyril Sneer. He just transferred here from another school."
Everybody was in shock. Cyril Sneer's son was coming to our school? We'd all heard about him from our parents, and from what we'd heard, well, let me just say it was not very flattering. We were all worried.
"Hello, everybody, my name is Cedric Sneer. I am pleased to join your school and look forward to furthering my education here."
"Thank you Cedric, you may now take your seat." He ended up sitting behind me.
"Bert," I whispered, "what do you think? Cyril Sneer's son is sitting behind me. What should I do? I'm worried he might be mean to me."
"Don't worry, Ralphie," said Bert, calling me by his childhood nickname for me, "I'm sure he's not that bad. Let's talk to him at lunch."
"Well, Bert, I hope you're right."
Soon lunch came and Bert and I were playing on the slide. Soon, Cedric came up to the slide.
"You two look like you're having fun." Cedric noted.
"Yes, we are!" Bert said at the top of the slide. "Why don't you join us?"
"Gosh, I don't know…"
"C'mon, Cedric!" Bert yelled. "Let's have fun!"
"Mmm…" Cedric thought to himself. "Well, alright!"
Soon, Cedric was playing with us. We'd feared he would be mean and nasty, but he turned out to be friendly. After we played for a while, we chatted a bit.
"So, Cedric," Bert asked. "What do you plan to do when you grow up?"
"Me?" Cedric asked. "Well, I'm going to work with my pop, if my grades are good enough."
"I'm going to be an airplane pilot," I said. "Or a newspaper writer. I haven't decided which."
"I'm going to be a famous rock star and travel all over the world!" Bert said gleefully. He pretended to play like Jimi Houndrix, which meant he pretended to smash an invisible guitar on the ground.
"Bert," I said chuckling, "Jimi Houndrix died a few weeks ago. Don't you remember the news breaking the story?"
"Oh, yeah," Bert said, not as excitedly, "yeah, I do. But, no matter! I'll just be the next Jimi Houndrix! I'll travel the world and take it by storm! Or, or, I could be the next Woodchuck Berry! Yeah! I'll be just like him, too!"
"That'll take a lot of practice, won't it?" Cedric questioned.
"Eh, maybe so," Bert said. Then he laughed, "But I'll be the greatest!"
"If you say so, Bert." I said. I didn't really think he ever would be a rock star, even at that age; I just could not see it.
"Move over Rover, and let Bert take over?" Cedric said, chuckling. I laughed too; he'd just quoted one of Jimi's most famous songs.
"Hey, quit laughing guys, I really think I can do it. Don't you believe in me?"
"Well, if you think you can become one, I guess we'll support you." I said.
Some more years passed. Cedric, Bert, and I remained close friends, and visited each other often still, much to Cyril's chagrin. He didn't particularly like Cedric hanging out with raccoons, not even when we were kids. Once, Cedric invited us to come over to Sneer Mansion to watch the Super Bowl (which was relatively new in those days). We knocked on the door. Cyril answered.
"Huh? Raccoons? What do you want, you little varmints?"
"Mr. Sneer, sir," I said, "Cedric invited us over to watch the Super Bowl. May we come in?"
"I don't know what my boy told you, but raccoons are NOT allowed on my grounds! Now, get the hell out of here before I chase you off my property myself!" Much to our surprise, he produced a gun and pointed it at us.
Needless to say, we got the message and left. Cedric never invited us to Sneer Mansion again during our school days; instead, he snuck out of his house and came to watch TV with us. Sometimes this got him in trouble with his father; although Cyril was not one to spank his child, Cedric told us that he got a good tongue-lashing for sneaking out several times.
Cedric, Bert, and I often watched sporting events together. Cedric had an interest in hockey and baseball. Myself, I had an interest in hockey as well, but I also enjoyed basketball and tennis as well. Bert was most interested in professional football, baseball and Indy Car racing, and every year until we graduated, we'd come to Bert's house (as his family actually had a color TV-they were relatively expensive then) and watch the Stanley Cup, the World Series, the NBA playoffs, the Super Bowl, and the Indianapolis 500-which used to air on tape delay at night back then.
During this time, I continued to read the newspapers and watch the news broadcasts. Around this time, suddenly, my interest in flying waned. I'm not really sure when this happened, but I am pretty sure it had something to do with reading and watching news reports about deadly plane crashes that seemed to be on the rise. I remember around 1970 or so, reading in the newspaper about a jet airliner crashing in Ontario while attempting to land, killing everyone aboard. (AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is actually true. An Air Canada flight crashed on July 5, 1970 after a botched landing attempt at Toronto International Airport (now known as Toronto-Pearson), killing all 109 people on the plane) Needless to say, I decided after reading stories like these that a career in aviation was not the career path I wanted to take-as a matter of fact, I actually developed a fear of flying! I made up my mind around the time I was in sixth grade that I wanted to pursue a career in newspaper journalism. But I didn't dare tell my parents, and least of all, Uncle Rocky. I knew he would be extremely disappointed in me, but I did not have the courage to tell him. Maybe I should have. He would end up finding out anyway.
Sooner than I could realize it, we'd graduated elementary school and moved up to Evergreen High. A lot of things changed once we got to high school. Bert had once been rather unpopular, but by the time we got to high school, he had become one of the most popular students out of our whole class. It probably didn't hurt that he by now was playing guitar. He got his first guitar, a 1971 Fender Stratocaster Sunburst, when he was twelve years old. Suddenly, those dreams he had of becoming a rock star when he was younger didn't seem impossible anymore. He was often practicing, and had already learned a significant number of songs. Also helping his popularity was his taste in music at this time, when he had first gotten his guitar he had been into glam rock groups and artists such as Tyrannosaurus Rex, Frog the Hoople, and David Crowie, but by this time, he had gotten into the punk rock scene and was playing songs by groups such as the Ravens, and the Trash. Myself, I personally never cared for punk rock at all, but I would sometimes come watch him play to support him. I actually had learned to play the drums around the same time Bert got his guitar, but unlike Bert, I didn't have any plans to become a professional. I could never have lived the rock and roll lifestyle-it just wasn't for me.
While Bert had become quite popular, Cedric and I remained quite unpopular, and we were frequently being lumped in as "nerds". This was most likely because the both of us frequently were on the honor roll-I was nearly always making anywhere from a 85 to a 95 in subjects (except for tenth grade, where I got a 81 in math, which did not please my parents), while Cedric was routinely making a 100 in every subject-even in physical education, which was quite a surprise. It was rather glaringly obvious he was going to be our school's valedictorian. Bert, on the other hand, was constantly earning grades in the 70s and sometimes slacked on his assignments, so Cedric and I helped him out sometimes. It also didn't help that Cedric and I were both socially awkward in high school-me especially. Plus, both of us were out of style when it came to our taste in music, Cedric liked classical piano compositions (he could even play some of them himself), and I myself liked the psychedelic rock music from the late 1960s, from when I was growing up (I guess I always have been something of a hippie at heart-I wanted dearly to believe that love could save the world, even though I realized that that was very unlikely to ever happen). Groups such as Pig Floyd, the Moody Newts, Raspberry Grandfather Clock, and such. Perhaps it was understandable that we were labeled "nerds", but it still wasn't right. For the first time since my first days in elementary school, I found myself being bullied.
As we progressed through high school, it became rather clear that Bert had quite the talent for attracting the ladies and he had quite a steady stream of girlfriends, although he never seemed to be able to stay with one for much longer than a month. Cedric and I, on the other hand, had a rather hard time getting dates, as most of the girls didn't seem to be too impressed by someone who read a lot of newspapers and wrote poetry-a hobby which I had taken up when I was about fourteen. Some of the girls were impressed by Cedric because of his high grades, but as for me, I didn't really think I had anything that made me really stand out to anyone. And it looked like I was right. I had numerous crushes throughout my high school, and all of them ended rather badly. Several times the girl just laughed at me and how awkward I came across, while other times they politely declined. And other times, I never had the courage to even approach the girl, and she wound up dating another guy in school. It looked like I was doomed to be a loser in love. Bert tried to help me by setting me up with a girl named Sarah Sanders, a dog who was in the class below mine. She was my first actual girlfriend, but it did not go well at all-on our first date, I ended up spilling my drink all over her-I had always been rather klutzy when I was younger-and she did not take that well as I ended up ruining her dress. Needless to say, she broke up with me and she ended up telling everyone else in school. For the next few weeks everybody laughed at me saying such mean-spirited things as "Hey, look, it's King Klutz!" "Hey, check it out, it's Drink Boy!" and "How did your date go, Ralphie?" As a result, I became extremely depressed.
Soon, our senior year arrived and the senior prom was approaching fast. Bert had managed to ask the head cheerleader for our school's football team, Frieda Falcon. It wasn't a big surprise to me at all. I was hoping that perhaps I could finally get a date that might actually go somewhere for the senior prom. Unfortunately, luck did not seem to be on my side. Once again, I found girls laughing in my face when I tried to ask them to prom. It was either that, or they already had a date and declined my offer. However, for once, luck seemed to be on my side. There was one girl who didn't have a date. That was my crush at the time, Linda McDuffie, a cat in the same grade as me. For once, it looked like something was going to my way. I might actually get the girl! I decided I would call her on the phone and ask her to prom with me. Bert had given me her number (it seemed he knew all the girls' numbers) and so, here I was. Holding the telephone in my hand. Holding a piece of paper with her number on it. All I had to do was call her.
"C'mon, Ralph," I said to myself. "You can do this. You can do this. C'mon. All you have to do is call her and ask her to prom. It's not that hard."
But could I do it? What if she said no? What if she laughed at me?
"No, Ralph. Don't think about that. Just call her and don't think about that."
I reached for the numbers to dial…
…and the slammed the phone down and sat on the bed.
"No." I said. "It is too hard. I-I-I can't do it!" I had chickened out. I just could not do it! I could not bring myself to dial the number.
And so, I would have to go to my senior prom, alone.
My mother was helping me adjust my bowtie. "Oh, doesn't my big boy look so handsome!"
"Don't see why you need to help him with that penguin suit." My dad said.
"Oh, you hush!" my mother shouted back at him. Dad wasn't exactly in the best mood at the time.
"Thanks, Mom." I said.
"So, Ralphie," my mother asked. "When does your date arrive?" Uh oh. I hadn't told my mother I had not managed to get a date for the prom.
"Uh, date?" I said, nervously, starting to sweat. I debated whether I should lie and say I had one or tell the truth. I quickly decided to just tell the truth. "Mom, I didn't get a date for the prom. I'm going alone."
"Going alone?" My dad said. "Son, what the hell? How did you not get a date?"
I again felt nervous and decided there was no way I could tell my dad I hadn't had the courage to ask Linda to prom. He would have called me a chicken. My dad was not a bad guy, believe me, but sometimes he was hard on me for not being more confident or standing up for myself.
"Mom, Dad, I waited too late. All the other girls had dates."
"I'm sorry Ralph," my mother said.
"Boy," my dad said, not sounding too pleased, "what the hell? How could you wait too late? You have to be prepared ahead of time for things like these. Strike while the iron is hot!"
"Well, I know that now…" I felt pretty embarrassed.
"I'm sorry you couldn't find a date for prom, Ralph," my mother repeated, "But look on the bright side, honey. I'm sure some of the girls wouldn't mind dancing with you, as long as it's okay with their dates."
"Yeah…" I said, really doubting that.
"That's right son. Go, go, my boy! Go out there and dance your ass off, son! I think you can be the Prom King, easily!" Now that I think of it, my dad reminds me a lot of that cartoon character I mentioned before, Homer Simpson. Or going back to those days, Archie Stunker.
"Gee, uh, thanks Dad."
"Don't mention it boy, now go out there and have the time of your life!"
"Okay, Dad." I wish he was right about that. Instead, I had a good feeling this would be the most depressing night of my life.
Soon I arrived at prom. They were playing music that was currently hot on the charts, including "Crazy Little Thing Called Love", "Heartache Tonight," and "Against the Wind". Everybody was dancing and having a good time. Bert was dancing with Frieda and going absolutely crazy, they were actually dancing to the Locomotion! Much to my surprise, Cedric had gotten a date to the prom-he'd asked Sally Simpson, a fox girl in my grade, to the prom. I felt shamed-even Cedric had gotten a date and I hadn't!
I was the only one not really having fun, instead of dancing or trying to ask anybody to dance I instead sat at one of the tables and drank some water. I figured if I wasn't going to have fun, I could at least pass the time, so I'd brought a newspaper and decided I'd spend prom solving the crossword puzzle. It was the best thing I could think of to do.
Then I saw her. Linda McDuffie. She was alone. Maybe now I might at least get to dance her and at least make this a semi-decent night.
I got up from my table to go talk to her…and then I saw her date come and dance with her instead. It was Lenny Sutton, another raccoon, and one of the stars of the football team.
That did it. I didn't feel like staying any longer. I ran out of the gymnasium and went to go sit on a bench out near the parking lot where I cried, and cried. I knew I must have looked absolutely pathetic, but I didn't care-I just felt like a worthless piece of garbage.
It wasn't too much longer until prom ended and everybody left to go home. Not surprisingly, many of the other guys laughed at me and how miserable I was, which only made me feel worse. If right now is the all-time high point of my life, that night was my all-time low point.
Soon, Bert came up to me. He was wearing a crown-it was obvious that he'd been voted Prom King.
"Ralph, you okay?" he asked.
"N-no, Bert." I said, looking up at him. I must have looked utterly pathetic with my bloodshot eyes and tears streaming down my face. "I-I just want to be alone."
"What happened? I thought you would have a good time at prom."
"Bert, I chickened out of asking Linda to prom. I wasn't brave enough to call her; I am nothing but a coward. I think you should just go." I said, crying some more.
"You chickened out of asking Linda out? So that's why she was there with Lenny…"
"I saw her dancing with him and I couldn't stand it. So I came out here. I feel miserable. Why did I have to chicken out?"
"Ralph, it's nothing to be ashamed of. I knew it would be hard for ya to ask her out, I shouldn't have pressured you into trying her out. I didn't really know it would turn out quite like this."
"Bert, do you think I'm destined to be alone?" I asked sadly, still.
"No, why? Do you think you're destined to be alone?" Bert asked, sounding concerned.
"I think so. No matter how hard I try, nothing seems to go right. I can't get a girlfriend, none of them are interested in me, and I get too scared to try asking them out. No matter what I do, it ends in failure. I honestly think I'm going to die alone, Bert." I put my head back into my paws and sobbed again.
"Ralph, cheer up now. Don't think like that, if you think like that, you probably will end up alone. You can't get yourself down like that."
"I know…" I said, trying to control myself. "But when can I do about it?"
"Think about it, Ralph. You're smarter than me, for one. You make better grades than me."
"Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?"
"Well, you'll probably be one of the highest in class rank. That means a lot, I heard. The higher you are in class rank, the more likely you are to succeed. Or at least that's what I read somewhere…"
"So?"
"So, Ralph, that means you'll probably be successful. You have a bright future ahead of you, don't get yourself down. Our high school days are almost over and soon we'll be in college. A lot of things change in college, my dad told me. All this bad stuff that's happened to you throughout high school won't matter anymore when you get to college! It'll be a fresh start-for all of us. Including you."
That made me feel a little better, but I still felt pretty down on myself. "Well, I never really thought of it that way. Thanks, Bert." I wiped my eyes. "But, that still isn't much comfort. How is that going to help me find a girlfriend?" I'd rarely discussed matters of the heart with Bert, mainly because I'd assumed he'd rather not hear about stuff like that.
"I may be an expert in many things, Ralph, but the heart is not one of them." Bert said solemnly. "I may know how to pick up girls, but the way I do it wouldn't suit you at all."
"I understand, Bert." I said, anticipating a response like that.
"But, as I said, things change a lot in college. You're going to study journalism, which I'm sure will lead you to a high paying job. That'll impress some girl out there, no doubt!" Bert laughed.
"Really now." I said flatly, not believing him one bit.
"Really."
"How can I know you're right?"
"Well, lemme be honest Ralph. You might be considered something of a nerd, you might be the most handsome guy in the entire world, you might be kind of…awkward, but deep down you're a good guy Ralph. You're not mean or nasty at all, you study hard, and you work hard, a lot harder than I do! You run the school's newspaper and always do a damn good job putting it together. I guess what I'm trying to say is, you're a good guy. Some girl out there is gonna see that and be impressed, and probably want to go out with you. Hell, I'm sure a girl like that probably wouldn't even care if you are awkward!"
I'd never heard Bert say something so profound, he'd always been pretty silly and light-hearted. But it helped me out a whole lot.
"You're right Bert. Thanks."
"Well, I'm always right, Ralph!" This made me laugh, Bert was far from always right, he was wrong about many, many things, but I felt he probably was right about this.
"Hey, what's so funny?" Bert asked.
"Nothing, Bert."
"Ah. But, anyways, if I were you Ralph, I wouldn't be in any hurry to look for a girlfriend. You've got your whole life ahead of ya, no need to be in a rush."
Bert was right; I sort of had been in a rush.
"I guess I just felt kind of upset because everybody else didn't seem to have much of a problem getting one. I suppose I thought they were better than me."
"Better than you? No way, Ralphie boy, you're gonna probably have a high paying job someday, and probably live comfortably! If anything, you're better than them!"
"Hah, well, it's pretty late. Now that I think about it, I think we should be heading home Bert, before our parents start to worry we're out chasing some tail or something."
Bert laughed. "Hah, that's a good one Ralphie! Well, I'll see you later Ralph. Don't forget what I said!"
"I won't," I said, smiling. "You stay out of trouble."
I drove home that night feeling a lot better about myself.
Soon it came time for graduation. Prior to that, we'd all learned what our class rank was. Surprise, surprise-Cedric was number one, and thus, our valedictorian! I wound up being ranked sixth in our class of sixty-five. Bert? He would up thirty-second.
And then, before I knew it, it was our graduation night. The big night for Evergreen High's Class of 1980. We were all dressed up in our caps and gowns. Cedric was giving his motivational speech and thanking those who helped him along the way.
"I'd also like to thank my pop, Cyril Sneer, for helping me decide my career path, and for helping finance my college funding!"
Cyril stood up and cheered loudly, "Cedric! That's my boy! You're making your old man proud!"
Mr. Knox was seated beside him. "I should tell you, Cyril, I am most definitely NOT impressed." He growled.
"Ah, shush, Knox, this is my boy's big moment!"
Cedric continued, "I'd also like to thank my oldest and dearest friends, Bert Raccoon and Ralph Raccoon, for always being there for me and helping me get through my problems. Without them, I don't know if I could have survived high school!"
Everyone clapped for us. It was the proudest I'd felt so far in my life.
Soon, graduation was over. My parents were quite proud of me and they gave a considerable amount of money as a reward.
But then came the time we had to announce our majors.
Cedric was majoring in Business and Accounting. Bert decided to major in music, as it seemed he really did intend upon becoming a rock star.
My family was expecting me to tell them I was majoring in aviation. They were quite shocked when I told them I was majoring in journalism. However, my parents decided that no matter what career path I decided to take, they would support me all the way no matter what (though my dad was pretty upset that I would never get to give him a free ride in a beer blimp like he'd said he wanted me to do someday when I was younger).
However, Uncle Rocky did not take it so well. He felt I had betrayed him since I had promised him I would follow in his footsteps, and now, I wasn't. He got even more upset when I told him I had aerophobia. He actually went so far as to disown me as his nephew. This greatly upset me because I had been really close to him, and afterwards I dearly wanted to patch up our severed relationship. Sadly, Uncle Rocky passed away a couple years ago, at age sixty-eight, and it was one of the biggest things I regret in my whole life: not reconciling with him before his passing.
It wasn't much longer before Cedric, Bert, and I had to decide which college we wanted to go to.
I didn't want to go too far from home, and neither did Bert, so we both decided on the local Evergreen University. Cedric had decided to go to the University of British Columbia, which was quite a ways away. We were both sad to see him leave, but he promised us that he would keep in touch with us and contact us fairly regularly. Plus, he would come home for summer time.
Both Bert and I decided we wanted to live on campus and decided to live in the dorms. As luck would have it, due to the small size of Evergreen U. and the low amount of dormantories, we managed to end up becoming roommates. College wasn't going to be so bad.
Our freshman year flew by in a hurry. I was doing very well in my studies, and always did my reports and my assignments well ahead of time. Bert, on the other hand, was doing decently, but he was really slacking off in some of his classes. He had a few night classes during the week, too, and this messed up his sleeping schedule. Just like in high school, I ended up having to help him complete some of his assignments. Some things really didn't change.
Then came that one day in May.
I remember it just like it was yesterday…
END CHAPTER 2
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Holy mother of god, that was one long chapter. In hindsight, perhaps I should have split this chapter up into two parts. But, I it was better to make this all one chapter, since I didn't want to have more than one chapter dedicated to Ralph's childhood. This took me almost two whole days to type. A LOT of liberty was taken with writing about Ralph's childhood, since we know very, very little of it from the actual show. As above, I do apologize if some scenes in this chapter were of a violent, disturbing, or depressing nature-normally my writing (for my own fiction) is silly, funny, and light-hearted. This is actually one of the most serious things I've ever written. In the next chapter, Ralph finally meets Melissa (SPOILER ALERT-not really, it's in the story's description) and there will be some funny scenes more typical of my actual writing to lighten up the mood of that chapter. There will also be some serious references to some contemporary motorsports figures, so be on the look-out.
The real names of the bands mentioned in this chapter: Tyrannosaurus Rex=Tyrannosaurus Rex, more popularly known as T. Rex; Frog the Hoople=Mott the Hoople (the very first band my mother saw in concert, in 1974); David Crowie=David Bowie; The Ravens=The Ramones; The Trash=The Clash, Pig Floyd=Pink Floyd (that should be obvious), The Moody Newts=The Moody Blues, Raspberry Grandfather Clock=Strawberry Alarm Clock.
Some final notes-what Ralph says about the Indianapolis 500 was true at the time (it really did air on tape delay), and the songs playing at the prom were actual hits in early 1980. Well, except for the Locomotion, but that is a timeless song, anyways. I think it should be at everybody's prom, but that is just me.
As I said before, read and review!