AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, this is it. The penultimate chapter. In this chapter, we see the lead up to Ralph and Melissa's wedding. And the next chapter will feature the entire Raccoon family gathering and their wedding. In this chapter, we'll see Ralph's father Arthur's unhealthy lifestyle beginning to catch up to him (leading to a medical emergency and a new direction in his life that will be delved into in a future story), and Mike Mulligan having to deal with his daughter getting married (has to be difficult for any dad, I'd imagine).
Well, are you ready? Let's dive in.
But first…
Legal Disclaimer and Crap: I do not own the Raccoons…oh, thank God I don't have to type that but two more times in this fanfic. Anyways, I suppose this'll be the last question I'll pose to you readers. What was your favorite episode of the show? Myself, it's hard to say, but I suppose I'll have to go with Season Five (the last season…)'s "Cold Feet!". Damned hilarious seeing Cyril Sneer in love with something not green (money) and something that wasn't his own flesh and blood (Cedric). Though other good candidates include "The Family Secret!" and "The Sky's The Limit!"…
But anyways, now we commence with…
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Dear Heart
It was a big day.
A few days before, Melissa and I had just gotten engaged, and now we were about to announce it to everybody.
Melissa and I were already there at the Raccoondominium. Bert was already practicing his fur metal numbers. The funny thing was that he hadn't changed the material he'd been performing, he was just performing it in a different, much more inferior, style (to my ears, anyway).
"I wonder what everybody is going to say?" Melissa wondered aloud.
"I think they'll all be supportive of it," I said enthusiastically. "Especially my dad, since, well, he'll be the bartender's brother-in-law now."
"So typical of him," Melissa chuckled. I had to laugh too; that would be exactly what my dad would do. He would expect free beer since he would now be related to his bartender through their children's marriage. That almost certainly had to be Dad's alterior motive for wanting to see us tie the knot.
"Well, Ralphie, I can't believe it," Bert said, laughing aloud as he put his guitar down. "You're getting married. I thought it'd be me long before you ever did. But, well, I suppose thing do turn out different; I don't think I'm ready to settle down just yet. But you, I always knew you would be the one who'd want to settle down."
"Well, Bert," I said, "is there anything wrong with that?"
Bert replied, "Nah, not particularly. You're welcome to that if that's what you want. Good to see the two of you happy. Myself, I can't wait until I graduate college so I can hit the road!" Bert was still looking forward to his alleged future as a rock star.
"Are you sure you'll make it, Bert?" Melissa was very doubtful. "You know, I've heard the studio executives aren't exactly the friendliest people you'll ever meet…" I'd heard that, too. I was worried that they were going to hoodwink Bert.
"Ah, no problem. When they hear our material, they'll be so impressed they'll have to give me that contract!" Bert was always thinking big.
"They will if they like your sound," I mused. As mentioned, Bert still had his "Flying Aces" from the dance together. However, the lineup had changed several times over the years. When Bert changed his style from straightforward heavy metal to fur metal, Carl Waters felt alienated as he had always been the odd man out in the band. While Bert and the rest of his band enjoyed rocking out big time, Carl was always trying to add experimentation to their lineup (Bert told me that at one show, Carl had made him perform an electric version of the Nutcracker Suite as an encore!) Carl had also written a number of songs for the band; Bert had shown me them. Carl's lyrics showed someone seriously going mad; they were highly eccentric word games without any real meaning to them coming to mind. When they had changed up their sound, Bert had asked Carl to start playing the synthesizer. He didn't take too kindly to that as he preferred his organ and piano. But he obliged and brought a synthesizer to a show. At the end of the first concert featuring Carl on synths, he promptly produced a hammer and proceeded to destroy the instrument with it, to a large round of cheers. He then promptly quit the band in a huff and dropped out of college and moved to the city where he was evidently "trying to be the Canadian Frank Zappa". Mark Miller had quit the Flying Aces as well, due to the fact he'd secretly auditioned for another band and joined them. Bert was still the lead singer, guitarist, and frontman, Don Davis still played bass, and Clancy still played drums. They currently had no rhythm guitarist, and another raccoon by the name of Don Ringtail had taken Carl's place as keyboardist. I knew very little about him, other than he was something of a wild guy and that he brought a Yamaha synthesizer with him. Also, Don was much older than the rest of then band-he was in his early 30s. He'd also had experience as the keyboardist and main songwriter of a short-lived unsuccessful progressive rock group called Clawhammer that had lasted about 5 years in the mid-70s. It was somewhat confusing to have two people in a band named Don, so Don Davis started going by "Donny Davis" to differentiate himself from Don Ringtail. I had no clue whether the Flying Aces stood any shot at mainstream success, but I thought, seeing the music scene of the mid-'80s, they might have a chance. Might being the keyword.
"I know they will, Ralphie boy!" Bert was very spirited about this. He was determined to find success, come hell or high water. "It's the latest craze in music. The times, they are-a-changin', and heavy metal's out. Fur metal's the way of the future; they'll HAVE to give us a contract! We already have a date set up this July!" Bert had stars in his eyes, literally and metaphorically.
"Still, that's only if you pass their audition," Melissa responded. "If they don't like you, you don't get the contract."
"I'm not worried about that!" Bert was trying to clear his mind of all the negatives. "We'll pass with flying colors and come this time next year, we'll be on tour of America and have our debut album out!" Bert had to be the biggest dreamer I'd ever known. "I'm pretty sure we'll be the idols of every North American teenager-and maybe some in England and Australia."
"I can't really see that happening," I replied simply.
"Me neither," Melissa agreed. "Though, I suppose it is nice to keep your hopes up…"
"I'll show both of you, you'll see!" Bert laughed. He sat down on the couch next to us.
"So, when do you think everyone'll get here?" he asked.
"They should be here soon," I replied.
"I'm a little worried how my dad'll take it…" Melissa said, a little bit worried.
"Oh. It's probably going to be a little hard for him, seeing he's going to be losing his daughter…" That would have to be hard for Mike. Melissa was all he had left in this world, with her gone, he'd have nothing left.
"I know," she sighed. "But I hope he'll be able to learn to deal with it. He thinks pretty highly of you, Ralph, you know."
I knew that very well-Mike gave me a lot of solid advice. I'd never gotten much of that from my own father.
"Oh, I know, I know," I replied. "I think it'll all work out in the end, though. At least, I hope so…"
"Eh, it should," Bert said, lazing back. "Or maybe Mike'll get mad and shoot you! Heh-heh!"
My eyes widened at the thought. What if he didn't take it so well?
"I never thought of that…"
"Ah, I'm just kidding, Ralphie boy!" Bert laughed heartily, I didn't think that had been very funny.
"That was…not funny at all, Bert," I said, shaking my head.
"Hey, I thought it was…"
"Oh, you don't need to worry about that, Ralph," Melissa smiled at me. "I think he'll understand."
Presently there came a knock at the Raccoondominium door.
"Ah, that must be them!" I said as I got the door.
Sure enough, there was my mother and father.
"Well, hey there, sonny boy!" my dad said in a very over-excited tone. "So, what's got you inviting us over to your little Anacondaminium?" My father could not remember the name of my house.
"It's called the Raccoondominium, dear," my mother corrected him.
"Oh, right, right! I knew that!" he said, laughing. "You think I'd forget that?"
"Art, you forget a lot of things…" my mother said lowly.
"Hey, there's not much room in this old brain! So, anyways," he said, looking to Melissa and I, "what's this big news you got? Did you rob a bank? Are you now filthy rich? Can I have some of your money? Pleeeeease?" He was already quite excited-he relished the idea of his children becoming fabulously wealthy. That hadn't panned out for George quite yet, so he had all his hopes on me.
Melissa chuckled, "Oh, no, Mr. Raccoon. It's not anything like that."
Bert laughed. "You'll see, it's quite a surprise!"
I also replied, "We're just waiting until Mike Mulligan gets here before we tell you. He should be here any minute."
My father gasped. "Mike? Oh no! I owe three hundred dollars on my bar tab to him! I've been trying to avoid going there the whole last week, I don't have the money! Oh no, he can't come over here! Hide me! Hide me, he'll turn me into a coon skin cap for sure!" He started panicking and freaking out.
"Oh, relax, Mr. Raccoon, I'm sure you two'll be able to work out," Melissa said, trying to reassure him.
That didn't seem to help Dad. "I don't know about that, your father likes to see his tabs repaid! He'll surely have my hide…" Suddenly, my dad groaned and started clutching his chest.
"Aiiiieeeeearrrrrggghhhh…." he groaned.
My mother looked concerned. I was too. That was not normal for him at all.
"Art, is…something wrong?"
As soon as he started, he went back to normal.
"Ah, it's nothing, honey," he said, chuckling. "Probably that chicken I ate earlier working its way into my gut."
"Are you sure, Dad?" I said, a tinge of worry to my voice.
"Oh, I'm fine, I'm fine." At that moment, Mike knocked on the door.
"Oh my god, run!" my father screamed as he dived into our couch and tried to hide under the cushions. It wasn't a very good job-his tail still firmly stuck out from underneath, and his girth also would easily give him away.
Bert shook his head. "Ralph, your dad has got to be the most cowardly man I've ever seen in my life."
I sighed. "I know, Bert."
Mike opened the door.
"Ah, hello there Mike," I said, waving to him.
"Oh, hey there, kid," he said, in a somewhat upbeat tone of voice.
"Hello, Dad," Melissa waved.
"Hi, sweetheart. Art?" Mike looked confused seeing my dad's…feeble attempts to hide from him.
"I'm not home, don't come in!" my dad screamed as Mike pulled the cushions off the top of him.
Dad screamed. "AAUUGHHH! Dammit! I knew my tail would give me away, I KNEW it! Why the hell do we have tails anyway? What do they do for us?"
"What the hell's the matter with ya?" Mike said, looking at my father like he was absolutely insane.
"I know why you're here. You're here to collect my unpaid bar tab! Have mercy on me, spare me the pain!" my father cried pathetically.
"Bar tab? Oh yeah, that. You better have that paid by next Friday, or else there's gonna be hell to pay…" Mike grinned a sinister looking grin at my father.
Dad gulped.
"But I'm not here about that. I'm here because my little angel said she had some big news. So, this is your home, eh, kid?" Mike asked me.
Bert answered him before I could.
"Yeah, this is me and Ralphie boy's Raccoondominium!"
"Raccoondominium, eh? Strange name you got there, but, eh, who am I to question it."
"So what's the big news we're supposed to hear about?" my mother asked.
"Oh, that! Well," Melissa began to explain, "you tell them, Ralph."
I would be the one to tell our families. "It concerns our relationship," I said, looking at her, "we have some very important news regarding that."
Mike's ears perked up. "Huh? I know you two've been goin' out for a couple years…"
Melissa happily announced, "Everyone, Ralph and I have decided we're going to get married!"
My mother was overjoyed. "Oh, Ralphie, my big boy! I can't believe my little boy is going to get married, it seems like…only yesterday that you were taking your first steps…"
"I know, Mom, I know."
Mike was smiling, though I could tell he was secretly shocked. "Married? Uh, ah, gee, that's great, honey. So, uh, when's the date?"
"We haven't decided yet," Melissa replied, "but we're thinking perhaps sometime in May would be a nice time."
"End of May? Sounds fine, sounds fine," Mike said, calmly. I could tell he was having trouble keeping his composure. This had to be really hard for him to take.
"Well, good on you, boy!" My dad slapped me on the back. "Now, first thing's first, we need to get your bachelor party planned. And no bachelor party is complete without a bunch of hot exotic dancers!" My dad laughed heartily.
I didn't really want a wild bachelor party, and I'm sure Melissa would not have appreciated it either. "Uh, dad, I think I'll take a rain check on that…"
"Nonsense! Every kid needs to have some wild fun at a bachelor party! I remember my co-worker Randy's stag party when he got married…heh, heh. It was quite a time to remember…"
I remembered that, Mom had gotten angry at him and almost thrown him out of the house for that. He'd consumed close to thirty beers and danced with the stripper and got himself in serious hot water for it. He almost got fired from his job for that incident. "I'm sure it was."
"Ralph," Melissa said, glaring at me. "You're not going to have a wild party, are you?"
"I don't intend on it," I whispered to her, hoping Dad wouldn't overhear me. "But knowing my Dad, he's going to try…"
"Oh, and when ya do get married, I know the perfect place for your honeymoon!" My dad already had this planned out in his head. "None other than good ol' Mount Vulcan, hee hee!"
I groaned. "Mount Vulcan? Why Mount Vulcan?" I knew exactly why he was suggesting it, though…
"Well, sonny boy, I figure you might want to, heh heh…consummate your marriage, heh-heh! That's why they got that nice little cabin up there!" My father, he could be so immature at times. Admittedly, though, that wasn't a bad idea at all…
"Art, that's enough…" my mom said, glaring at him.
"Hey, I'm just giving the boy some good ideas! After all, it is where he got his start in life! Hell, I think it might be where I got my start!" So it was exactly as I thought: I'd been conceived on Mount Vulcan.
"I don't know, Dad, I'd have to discuss that with Melissa…"
Mike looked pretty uneasy right now. "This is all great news," he said, "but, uh, I think I'm going to go back home. Got some things to attend to." As he went for the door, he turned and spoke to me. "Ralph, I'd like if you dropped by tomorrow. I need a…personal word with you." I began to worry that Mike was against the idea of us getting married. But I figured it would be something we would have to discuss…
"I'll be there, Mike," I said. "See you."
"Later, kid," he waved as he left.
Bert looked at me and grinned. "Your father's got a damn good idea, Ralphie boy! Mount Vulcan…couldn't be a better place for a honeymoon!"
My father also grinned his very dull looking grin. "Of course it's a good idea! I remember all the good times I had up there…mmm…good times…" He began drooling, obviously remembering all of his…romantic encounters with his wife atop the peak. "But those days are behind me now..."
My mom slapped him. "Art, I'd prefer if you not discuss those in front of our future daughter-in-law…"
Melissa smiled. "No, no, it's alright, Ms. Raccoon." She was already pretty used to my dad's immature and childish behavior.
"You two really think about it now," my dad said winking. Suddenly, he groaned again and began clutching his chest once more. What could be going on?
"Aaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrghhhhhhhh!" he groaned loudly.
"Mr. Raccoon?" Melissa looked worried, she and I both knew something was wrong with him. "Is there something wrong? Do you need help?"
"Well, Melissa, you know that feeling you get when it feels like your heart's being stabbed by a thousand forks and knives?" he asked, in a very strained voice.
"I can't say that I have," she replied.
"Well, that's what it feels like right no-Oooh, potato chips!" My dad instantly returned to normal as he noticed the bag of "Peanut Butter Potato Crisp" Bert was eating. Instantly, his attention was drawn to them.
"Here ya go!" Bert said, graciously offering him some. "They're on the house."
"Ah, the wonderful refreshing taste of peanut butter potato chips…" my dad said aloud as he scarfed some down his snout.
"Dad, I think there might be something wrong with you." I was very concerned about him; he'd never had this problem before. I had long worried that the vast amounts of fatty and unhealthy food he ate might lead to heart disease, could he be in the early stages?
"Nah, nothing's wrong with me, boy! Just had some food working its way through me wrong."
"I don't know about that, Mr. Raccoon," Melissa replied worriedly, "I think you might want to make a visit to hospital."
"Hospital? Oh, hell no!" My dad absolutely hated seeing Dr. Canard. "Dr. Canard's nothing but a big quack! Heh-heh! Ya know, it's funny 'cause he's a duck."
I slapped my face with my paw, embarrassed about my father's sense of humor.
"Nah, Dr. Canard'll fix ya right up!" Bert replied emphatically. "I had to go there to have my tonsils taken out, didn't hurt me at all!"
"No way I'm letting him anywhere near me!" my dad replied, outraged. He would never voluntarily go to hospital.
"Art, if you've still got this problem by tomorrow, I'm rushing you to hospital," my mother said, warily.
"But, Millie, dear, it's nothing! I just got some big pre-work jitters, is all! I got a really big job tomorrow reupholstering the Sneer Mansion and if I do a good job Vacuum Face (his name for Cyril) might gimme a good bit of money! If I don't, my boss says he's kicking my tail outta there!" My dad constantly got in trouble with J. Marvin Mills. It was a regular thing for him.
"Well…" my mother sighed. She didn't want to give in and not take any action, but she decided to just let it go. "Alright, I suppose. But c'mon, honey. Let's go back home. But if you still have this problem tonight, I'm taking you to hospital in the morning, no ifs, ands, or buts about it!"
"NO!" my dad screamed. "No way you're putting me in hospital! No way, no how, no can do! I'm just fine, never been better!"
My mother relented. "Well, alright…"
As my mother and father left the Raccoondominium, my mom said to me, "Congratulations, you two. I'm sure the two of you will have a long and happy marriage, just like me and Art."
My dad gleefully exclaimed as he left, "With lots and lots of sex!"
I groaned.
My mother slapped him as they left.
"Ralph, I'm worried about your father…" Melissa said worriedly to me.
"I am too. He's never clutched his chest like that before."
"I think there might be something wrong with his heart…" she said. "I really think he needs to go see Dr. Canard at Evergreen Hospital, before anything really bad happens."
"Hey," Bert said, hopping up on the couch next to us and lazing back, "I'm sure everything'll work out fine. He'll be just fine!"
"Bert, I really don't know about that…" I had my doubts.
"Well, we'll just have to see about that," he said, as he flicked on the television.
I turned to Melissa again. "I see Mike wants to have a personal word with me."
"Oh, honey, it's nothing to worry about! He probably just wants to discuss this more in private. You'll see, it'll be fine!"
"I don't know, he could be opposed to our engagement, you know?" That was what I was worried about.
"No, I don't think so," she replied, smiling to reassure me. "It'll be just fine, you'll see."
"Well, if you think so, alright," I replied.
Later that night, I called my parents to make sure Dad was doing alright. I had to make sure, after all, seeing what had happened to him today.
But Dad said he was fine.
"Never been better, boy!" he said ecstatically. "I'm sitting here watching football and eating a delicious tub of lard. Life couldn't get any better!"
"Well, alright, Dad. Just thought I'd make sure…"
"Oh, I'm fine. Later, boy!" He hung up.
The next day came and I made my way to the Mulligan household.
Mike and Melissa were there to greet me.
"Ah, hello there, kid," Mike said from the sofa.
"Hello, Mike," I replied.
"Dad has something he'd like to say to you," Melissa told me.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah I do," Mike said slightly. "Come, sit here kid."
I sat down next to Mike.
"Now, this is about that little…you know…marriage thing you two have planned." He sighed, this would not be easy for him to talk about.
"You're not opposed to it, are you?" I asked worriedly. I was rather worried that he was.
Mike laughed. "Haha, no! Not at all, kid, not at all." That was a relief. "You thought I was?"
"I sort of did…" I admitted.
"Haha, kid. I'm not like that. I got nothing against this, personally, but what can I say. Melissa is very happy with you, I can tell she is really looking forward to it. She's happy with you; if you two are happy, then who am I to come between that. Besides, better you than some other snot-nosed kid like those boyfriends she had in high school. You probably are one of the better representatives of your generation-no offense, Ralph, but you two's generation is a horrible one. Far too many punks with no respect for authority. But anyways, ah, no, I'm not going to stop it."
"See Ralph?" Melissa said, smiling. "I told you Dad wouldn't be mad about this!"
"Well, I'm glad about that," I said comfortably.
"But seriously, Ralph," Mike said, his voice taking a more saddened tone, "I'm not going to stand in the way of your happiness, but…but…" He sighed the most despaired sounding sigh I'd heard in a long time. "A part of me…doesn't want to see her go…"
I knew Mike would have a hard time dealing with all of this. He'd have to give Melissa away at our wedding; and that would definitely be a very...bittersweet day for him.
"I understand, Mike," I said, hoping that would reassure him.
"No, kid. No, you don't understand. You don't understand what it's like at all, you're not much more than a kid yourself. You're only…eh, how old are ya?"
"Twenty-two, Mike," I replied. I'd turned 22 the previous September.
"Yeah, you're only twenty-two. I'm forty-five this July. You'll never fully understand what I'm going through until you have children of your own, Ralph, you really won't. Think about it, kid. My wife died right after Melissa was born; she's all I got left in this world. Well, outside all of the drunks at my bar. But they never appreciate me. They never tell me thanks for providing them with their booze. Well, sometimes your father appreciates me, but that's only sometimes. Melissa's the only one who's ever really needed me who didn't die on me or was appreciative of it. But now, she's all grown up. She's getting ready to leave the nest, start a new life with you. I'm not really looking forward to giving her away at you two's wedding. She won't need me anymore, as she won't be my responsibility anymore-she'll be yours. And after that, well…" Mike looked truly sad. He wasn't crying, but I could tell he felt like it.
"And then what?" I asked.
"And then, nobody will need me anymore. I'll have no real purpose in this world, my role as a parent and a guardian's done for. I'm worried that I might never see her again after you two get hitched." Mike looked down at the floor, wiping his one eye.
"Don't worry, Dad," Melissa said, putting a paw on his shoulder. "That won't happen! I'll still drop by to visit from time to time, I won't be going that far away! I'll be living with my new husband at his Raccoondominium, you know where it is!"
"Yes," I said, reassuringly, "and you're always welcome to drop by and visit!"
"Thanks," Mike said, a little more cheerfully, "but, still. She won't have to depend on me anymore. Who will truly need me? Nobody. It has to be the most miserable feeling in the world when nobody needs you…"
"Dad, I've told you before, you might meet a nice woman who'll think the world someday!" Melissa smiled at him.
Mike frowned. "No, Melissa, I wish I could believe you, but I just simply can't. Ever since Allie died, I've been all alone since then. I've tried to find other women before, but none of 'em want me. Who the hell wants to go out with an old, ugly raccoon that runs a bar? You know what's really sad? Mel here tried to get me to write to some Lonely Hearts Club or something or other back when we lived in Prince Rupert."
"I thought it would help you out a lot," Melissa replied, remembering it.
"So, how did that turn out?" I asked Mike.
"Horrible, kid, how the hell else did you think it turned out?" I should have figured as much, seeing the mood Mike was in. "They set me up with some woman who lived in Fort St. John. Seemed like quite the nice lady from our letters, but when she came to meet me for the first time, she turned tail and ran out screaming. Said I was the most hideous man she'd ever met in her life and I was nothing like the letters said. That was the moment I realized I was gonna die alone."
I felt bad for Mike. Sure, he may have been…not very handsome or much to behold, plus he did have a bit of a bad temper, but I knew at heart Mike was a good man who loved his daughter dearly and worked hard at his bar to support her. He had lived a very hard and lonely life and it had shown-though he was only a few years older than my own brother, he looked about twenty years older then he really was. You couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor guy. I couldn't believe there wasn't some woman who would be willing to look past those faults of his and see that.
"That isn't right," I said to him, "there ought to be some woman out there who can see past your faults."
"Yeah, I know there oughta," Mike said, still in a rather depressed way, "but, there isn't. What the hell. It's probably what I deserve anyway, I made a lot of dumb mistakes when I was a kid. I suppose this is my just desserts. I probably deserve to die alone."
"Dad, don't talk like that!" Melissa was concerned for him. "You never know, Dad. She might very well come along someday, and you'd miss her because you don't think anyone would like you."
"It's nice of you two to try to cheer me up, but it isn't doing much good. They say you only have to get love right once in your whole life; well, I did. But it didn't last, she died and there was nothing I could do for her. Melissa is the only mark I'll leave behind in this world; the Mulligan family name is going to die out with me."
I tried harder to reassure him. "No, it won't, if Melissa and I have children someday, think about it. You'll have grandkids."
"Yes," Melissa agreed, "and then you can play with them. It'll be like when I was a little girl, won't it?"
"Oh no, I'd love grandkids, believe me, I do, but it won't be the same. It just won't be the same. And besides, so she may pass on my genes, but the Mulligan name won't live on, she'll take your name Ralph, and I never had a son. All the rest of my family's dead. My mother and father died years ago, I don't know much else about the rest of my family. Ya know, I had a brother named Scott."
"What was he like?" I asked.
Melissa answered that one. "Uncle Scott died when I was little. You probably would have liked him, Ralph-Bert reminds me of him somewhat. Uncle Scott was carefree and happy-go-lucky just like Bert is."
"Yeah, Scottie was quite a character. However, they drafted him into the army and shipped him out to 'Nam. The Cong killed him. They shot him while he was trying to help save a friend of his who had fallen. They sniped him and blasted his head off. That happened back in '66. Scott ended up winning the Medal of Honor posthumously for bravery. But, he didn't have to die like that. He didn't really want to go to 'Nam and they made him. And they killed him. They killed my brother. That's part of the reason why I fled from Kentucky to up here. As far as I know, I'll be the last of the Mulligan line." Mike really and truly felt alone.
"Mike, I know this is a lot for you to have to deal with," I said, struggling to come up with something to say to reassure him, "but, it won't be as bad as you think it will be. I promise that."
"Sure, sure," Mike said doubtfully. "I'm not worried about Melissa at all. I think she's in good hands, I think I can trust you with her. I mean, I knew this day would have to come someday, I guess I…just never prepared myself for it. I didn't want to think it would come."
"Well, cheer up, Dad," Melissa said. "I won't forget you Dad, as I said you can always drop by the Raccoondominium if you feel like, we'll always welcome you there. Or we can always visit you."
"That'd be nice," he said, lowly. Mike then looked to me.
"Ralph, kid, I want you to promise me something," he said.
"And that is?" I asked curiously.
"Look, you two will be wed soon and I'm happy for the both of you," he said sighing. "But please, Ralph. Promise me this. Promise me you'll always be there for Melissa. Always be there for her when she's sad and cheer her up. Don't ever let her down, always be there to support her whenever she needs it."
"I've been doing that the whole time we've dated," I said, humbly, "so you don't have to worry about that."
"And promise me you'll never do anything bad to her, never hurt her. Don't ever cheat on her or do anything of the sort. And don't do anything dumb, kid. I don't want her to end up a sad, lonely old raccoon like me. She deserves better than that, kid. If I do find out you cheated on her or did anything to hurt her, I will make you regret it for the rest of your life. And you better not let anything bad happen to her, because if I find out…"
That was a given in a marriage. "Mike, rest assured, you don't have to worry about any of that-"
Mike interrupted me, grabbing me by the scarf.
"No, that's not good enough!" he said hysterically. "Ralph, I want you to promise me that, man to man. I want your word to go back on. I want to be absolutely sure I have your word to trust."
"I promise, Mike. I promise I will take good care of Melissa and I will never let anything bad happen to her and I will always do right by her," I said, confidently.
"Good, Ralph. I feel better hearing that." Mike smiled.
"You didn't have to make Ralph say all that," Melissa said to him. "Ralph's already promised me all that! He gave me his heart, after all," she grinned.
"I know that, honey. I just felt I needed to hear it from him myself."
At that moment came a phone call.
"I'll get it," Mike sighed.
"No, no, Mike, let me," I said, trying to be polite.
"Ah, go right ahead kid."
I answered the phone. "Hello?"
Much to my surprise, it was Bert on the other end of the line.
"Ralphie boy, I needed to call you. Something just happened." He sounded…concerned.
"What's happened, Bert?'
"Ralph, your mother just called me and she was hysterical." What could my mom's problem be?
Then I remembered what had happened yesterday. My father having chest pains. Could it be…?
"What's wrong?" I said frantically, realizing what very well might have happened.
"I couldn't make out all of what she said, but from what I know, your dad collapsed at Cyril Sneer's on the job and he's in hospital. It's…urgent, Ralph. She wanted me to tell you to pass this on to you and for you to get to Evergreen Hospital as soon as you can."
Oh no, it was exactly what I thought.
"Oh no, Dad!" I said, sadly.
"I'll be at Evergreen Hospital ASAP," I said as I hung up the phone.
Melissa and Mike looked at me worriedly.
"What's the matter, honey?" Melissa said, concerned.
"That was Bert. Something's happened to my Dad and they had to take him to hospital. I need to get there, fast, before it's too late."
Melissa looked at me with sad eyes. "Ralph, I'll go with you. This is my future father-in-law, after all,"
Mike looked a bit…surprised. "Wow, one of my best customers. Having a medical emergency. I can't go," he said, "but please, you two. Let me know how he makes out. Especially since I need to collect that bar tab money from him."
"I'll be sure to," I said, as Melissa and I both raced to hospital as fast as we could.
We were sitting in the waiting room. Nurse Peck came out to speak to us.
"You must be Ralph Raccoon," she said to me in her Irish accent.
"That would be me, nurse," I replied.
"Your father is in the ICU. He was working at the Sneer Mansion when he collapsed abruptly. Cyril Sneer ended up rushing him to the hospital. Very surprising knowing him," she said, chuckling.
I was surprised too. Cedric had always told me Cyril did have a good side to him, this was the first time I'd really heard of it. He'd actually realized something had happened and actually brought him here to the hospital himself. It was…quite a big surprise.
"So, what happened to him, nurse?" I asked. I had a damned good idea what it was, but I didn't want to believe it.
"Ralph, your father has suffered a heart attack. His arteries were clogged up from years of eating unhealthy food. Cyril brought him here in full cardiac arrest."
I was saddened, but it was not a surprise at all. I'd always worried that the years of eating fattening food would do this to him, and it had done exactly that.
"Not surprising," I sighed. "Can I see my dad?"
"Sure thing, he's in ICU room 47," Nurse Peck said.
"I'll come too," Melissa said, getting up to follow me.
"How are you related to Arthur Raccoon?" Nurse Peck asked her.
"I'm Ralph's fiancée," she replied.
"Sorry, but only the immediate family's allowed at the moment."
Melissa sighed. "Oh. Well, I guess I'll have to stay here then…"
I wanted her to come with me, but I didn't protest against Nurse Peck. "I'll hopefully be back soon, honey," I told her.
Melissa kissed me. "I hope your father pulls through, dear. I'll be waiting right here."
I followed the nurse to room 47.
My dad was lying there in the bed. My mother was standing over him, looking visibly worried. He was just beginning to come to.
"Where…am I? What….happened? Who…am I? What am I? How am I? Why am I?" he asked, confused.
Dr. Canard looked down and smiled.
"Ah, we've got him conscious again and his heart is beating normally again. It looks like for the time being he'll be alright."
My dad gasped when he saw Dr. Canard. Dr. Canard was the person he feared the most in the whole world.
"AH! D-D-Dr. Canard! What the hell am I doing in hospital? How did I end up here?"
My mother instantly wrapped her arms around him. "Oh Art, you scared me there! I thought you were dead!"
Dad still looked confused and scared. "What happened? How did I get here?"
Dr. Canard spoke, "Well, Mr. Raccoon, you've just had a heart attack. We just brought you back from unconsciousness."
My dad looked surprised. "Heart attack? Is that what all that pain in my chest was? I thought that was gas."
"Art!" My mom shouted at him. "You scared me! I told you those fatty foods would be the death of you, you should have listened to me!"
Dad just grinned. "Death of me? Nah, I can't live without them."
"Well," Dr. Canard said solemnly, "it might be a good idea to learn how to live without them."
My dad gasped. "WHAT? Live without fatty foods? How can I ever do that, I've eaten this stuff my whole life!"
Dr. Canard shook his head. "Well, Mr. Raccoon, they sort of are the cause of your heart attack."
My dad didn't know what to say.
Mom looked to Dr. Canard and asked, "So, Dr. Canard, how bad's his heart? Is he going to be alright in the long run?"
"Well, we don't know that yet. We'll have to perform a few tests on him to determine how badly his heart's damaged."
My dad scoffed, "My heart? Damaged? No way! This old thing's strong as ever! It just had a little hiccup today, but I'm sure with a few hours of rest it'll be fine and dandy like always! You can let me go now, Doc."
I sighed. "Dad, I don't think this is something they can let you out of hospital for in a day. They need to do their tests."
My dad laughed. "Test, schmests! Who am I supposed to trust, this quack or me?"
Dr. Canard frowned. "You know, I do take personal offense to being called a quack, Mr. Raccoon…"
My mom frowned at him. "Don't be rude to Dr. Canard, your health is in his hands."
Dad sighed. "Sorry, Doc."
Soon enough they performed their tests on my father.
"So how bad is it, Dr. Canard?" my mother asked.
"Well, I'm afraid to tell you, Mrs. Raccoon, your husband's heart is indeed damaged. It looks like he'll require a triple bypass surgery."
My dad looked confused. "Triple bypass surgery? In English, please. I don't speak Medicinese."
I explained it in more simple terms. "That means you're going to have open heart surgery, Dad."
My dad was still confused. "What are you talking about? I don't follow." My dad could be outstandingly dumb sometimes.
Mother tried to explain it as simple as she possibly could. "They're going to tinker with your ticker, dear."
Dad shook his head. "Can you explain it a little simpler than that?"
Dr. Canard just shrugged. "I don't know how it can be explained any simpler than that, Mr. Raccoon."
After a minute, my father realized what was going to happen to him in the coming days. He instantly became afraid.
"Doctor, no, no! You can't do this to me, I don't really like the idea of you going in and fiddling with my insides! How can I possibly withstand that?"
Dr. Canard laughed. "Oh, there's no need to be so worried, Mr. Raccoon! You'll be put to sleep before the operation, you won't be conscious during the operation at all. You won't feel a thing until you wake up."
That still didn't ease my dad's worries.
"I don't know, Doc…Can't I just take one of these home with me instead?" He pointed to the defibrillator. "I'm sure this thing could keep me alive forever." He then took the paddles and shocked himself with them. "Ah...a nice fuzzy feeling...I could get used to this..."
Dr. Canard just laughed at him. "No, Mr. Raccoon. I'm afraid we can't give you a defibrillator."
"But I don't want to go through surgery..." my dad whined.
My mother tried to reassure him.
"It's for your own good, honey. If they don't do this surgery, you might…You might die," she said, solemnly.
"You do want to live to see Melissa and I get married, don't you?" I asked him.
"Hell, of course I do!" he said, laughing. "I wanna live to see ya marry your dream girl, I wanna live to see me get my free booze at Mike's! Since you and his daughter will be getting hitched, I figure he'll have to give me free beer since we'll be related! We'll be like brothers, only closer."
"Well then," Dr. Canard said, "are you willing to go through the surgery?"
My dad thought (rare for him) for a moment and sighed. "Well, alright Doc…But you better not hurt me, or else I'll sue the hospital and finally get my million dollars!"
"I've a good record with patients, you have nothing to worry about."
My mother scheduled my dad's surgery for two days from now. In two days, they'd operate on his heart and hopefully he would be on the fast track to mending.
Mother and I left the room, where Melissa was waiting.
"So how bad is your father, Ralph?" she asked me.
"Well, he's going to need a triple bypass surgery. He damaged his heart," I sighed.
"I feel sorry for him. Sure, he may have had a really…unhealthy lifestyle," she said, sympathetically, "but, he's your father. It has to be very hard on you going through this."
"I know…" I sighed again.
Much to my surprise, someone very familiar was in the waiting room now.
"Cyril Sneer?" my mother said aloud.
Cyril growled, taking a long puff off of his cigar. (I was surprised they let him take it in with him).
"What do you ringtailed bandits want?" He looked at me in particular. "Hey, it's you. Cedric's 'friend'. You're the one who ruined my deal with Mr. Mammoth to bring professional baseball to this low-classed Forest!" I could tell Cyril did not think highly of me.
"That would be me, sir," I replied, lowly. "But, I've heard you rushed my father here to hospital when he had his…emergency at your mansion."
Cyril acted like he had no idea what I was talking about. "What? Me? Couldn't have been me!"
My mother spoke to Cyril.
"Mr. Sneer, you don't need to be so modest."
Cyril finally admitted what he'd done.
"Alright, alright, no need to make a big scene out of this. That gargantuan oversized masked bandit was supposed to help replace the carpeting in my personal chambers this morning. He came over here and started asking if the three pork chops could do a song and dance number like the ones he says he saw on that idiot box you call a television."
I laughed. "That sounds like him, alright." Dad had seen the dancing pigs that always appeared on the late-night talk shows (not that he understood most of their jokes anyways), so it was quite likely he would ask such a thing out of Lloyd, Boyd, and Floyd.
"Well, after they argued with him for a while, he got to work and I went to counting my precious gold stash. When suddenly I heard this dreadful girlish screaming and I ran to see what the problem was. I found him writhing around on the floor like a dying snake. Those three filthy swine of mine started panicking and running around not knowing what to do. Well, I can't just let this behemoth lie there where he'd probably die, so we rushed him into my limo and brought him here where I figured they'd be able to help his hide."
My mother instantly wrapped her arms around Cyril and hugged him. His eyes bulged-he didn't want a hug from a raccoon.
"Mr. Sneer, you're a hero," she said to him, "you saved my husband's life, I don't know how I can ever thank you!"
Cyril broke free from her grip and adjusted his cigar a bit. "You can start by not mentioning this to the public. I am not a hero. Any person with good common sense would have done what I did." he said.
I decided that Cyril deserved some praise for what he'd done. "Mr. Sneer, sir, thanks for helping my dad out in his time of need."
Cyril shrugged. "Ah, don't mention it, you rascally bandit. But don't you even begin to think we're on friendly terms now-I still haven't forgiven you for costing me my big deal with Mammoth! I was going to have the Mudhens play right here in the Forest! People would come from all over the country to see them! And you cost me that with your little college newspaper." He growled at me.
"I only did what I thought needed to be done. That would have probably ruined the Forest," I said.
"This forest could stand to have some more culture to it, more than a bunch of giant matchsticks..." he growled. "Now that I know he's out of the woods and the risk of a lawsuit is fading fast, I'll be on my way! Those meddling porkers better have my limo ready," he sneered (bad pun again, sorry) as he stormed out of the hospital.
We waved to him, although he ignored us. He growled to himself as he left, "Stupid masked bandits...I oughta..."
"I don't know how I can ever repay him for what he did. If he hadn't have helped, my husband would probably be dead right now," my mom said.
"I'd heard Cyril was the stingiest businessman alive," Melissa said to me. "But what do you know? He has some good to him, after all."
"I know," I said. "I'm still a little surprised."
A day passed and the next day, after my college courses, I came to visit Dad again. Melissa came too, as today, the day before my dad's big surgery, visitors outside of the family were allowed to visit. I figured we'd stay a while to keep an eye on him.
"Hello, Mr. Raccoon," Melissa said to him as he lay there in the bed. "Are you doing better today?"
"I suppose so," he sighed. "I'm just a little scared about the surgery. What if Dr. Canard proves to be the quack I think he is? What if it goes all wrong?"
Melissa laughed. "Oh, Mr. Raccoon, you don't need to worry. I'm sure you're in good hands at this hospital. You'll be just fine and back on your feet in no time."
"Gee, I sure hope so," Dad said, looking down at the floor. "I want to get better so your father can give me some free beer once the two of ya's are hitched!"
I laughed. "Ah, Dad, you really want that free beer, don't you?"
"You bet your sweet ass I do, son!" He was already thinking about it. "Mmm…free Snoup's…aaaaaagggghhhh…." He began to drool and it ran down his face and dripped onto the hospital floor.
He quickly snapped out of it.
"Ah, sorry, sorry! I just got lost in thought…"
Melissa couldn't help but giggle.
"I don't know about the free beer, you'll have to talk to my Dad about that. I don't know if he'd want to give you alcohol for free even if you two are going to be related."
Dad's eyes bulged for a moment.
"What? Of course he'll give me free beer! He'll be my new brother! The brother I never got to have! Because my real brother never really cared for me much…" This was true; Uncle Rocky had never particularly liked my dad. He'd always thought of Dad as a nuisance and a simple-minded imbecile. He actually frequently referred to him as "my imbecile/idiot brother". Dad got along with Aunt Gertie a lot better.
"We'll see about that," Melissa said to herself.
Soon enough Mike Mulligan came to visit.
"Hey, Mike!" my dad said as Mike came in.
"Ah, so I've heard all about your little medical emergency. Mel told me all about it. Didn't you?" Mike said as he came in.
"I sure did, Dad," Melissa said to her father.
Soon, Mike Mulligan was joined by my dad's two best friends and co-workers, Peter Fagan and Henry Rogers.
"Pete! Henry! Glad to see ya two drop by," my dad said enthusiastically.
"Hey, Art, we heard about your little heart trouble and figured we'd drop by!" Henry said as he came in.
"Well, they're gonna do something or other to my heart, but I hope I make it out alright."
Mike spoke. "Heh, you better. There's still the little issue of your unpaid bar tab…" Mike said, a menacing grin upon his face.
My dad gasped. "Mike, there's no way I can pay that! I'm in hospital!"
"Well…" Mike said, thinking to himself, "I suppose I can forget about the bar tab. For the time being."
"Whew! That's a relief."
"Well, anyways, Art, I figured I'd sneak ya in a little something or other. I brought you this." Mike held up a beer mug full of Snoup's.
"Ooh, beer! How thoughtful, brother…" my dad said as he took the beer and started drinking it furiously.
Melissa and I were seated by the window. I spoke to her.
"I guess my dad really is excited about this."
"I'll say," she chuckled lightly.
Mike then looked at my dad and frowned. "That isn't free, ya know. It'll cost you three bucks."
My dad looked sad.
Mike soon left after he forced three dollars out of my Dad.
After a while, Peter took notice of Melissa and me.
"Hey, that's your boy, isn't it, Art?" he asked.
"Sure is, and that's his girl right there!" Dad said, excitedly.
"Hey, you're Mike's daughter, aren't you?" Henry said to Melissa.
"That's right," she said. "Ralph and I are getting married in May."
"I'm damned happy about it too," my dad said. "That means Mike'll be giving me free beer for the rest of my lifetime!"
"Awww, that's no fair, you're going to be in-laws with our bartender." Peter said, lowly. "Can't you find a way to get us some free booze too?"
"I'll see if I can work something out with Mike," Dad said smugly.
Melissa added, "That is only if my Dad sees fit to supply him with free beer, you know."
Henry laughed. "She's got quite a point there, Art."
Peter nudged him and agreed. "Yeah, you're the one always getting kicked out, you know!"
Dad just shrugged. "Oh, you guys, I'm sure he'll be more than willing to work something out!"
"Well, we'll have to see about that," Peter said.
"So how's work been the past day?" my dad asked.
"Fine," Henry said. "J. Marvin said he was going to drop by here later today. Said he had something very important to tell you."
My dad beamed. "Well, alright! Maybe boss'll finally give me the worker of the week award for all this health trouble I've been goin' through!"
I nudged Melissa. "That'll never happen," I whispered to her.
"Not too surprising!" she said.
Peter looked a bit nervous. "Well, you'll find out when he gets here. Me and Henry were going to go bowling. We'd ask ya to join us, but well, you're kinda laid up here, so maybe another time."
"See ya," Henry said as they left.
My dad sighed. "Oh, I hate being here in this hospital bed…I wanted to go bowling!"
I reassured him. "It'll only be until after your surgery, you'll only probably be here another week or so. You can go bowling once you get better."
"That better be soon," Dad said, grouchily.
"With luck, it will," Melissa replied.
Soon enough, Gabriel Taliesyn came in. The last person my dad ever wanted to see.
I whispered to Melissa. "That's Gabriel, my father's co-worker. Dad hates him because Gabriel is a harder worker than he is."
Melissa laughed. "Your father can be so silly sometimes."
My dad growled when he saw Gabriel come up to him.
"Taliesyn! What the hell are you doing here?"
Gabriel spoke sympathetically to my father.
"Arthur, I know you may not care much for me at all, and I know we've never talked much, but I wanted you to know that I have heard about your little heart hiccups you've been having, and I thought you might like to know I have been praying for you the past two days."
My dad looked angry at Gabriel.
"Well, keep me out of your damn prayers, Taliesyn! I don't wanna be in 'em!" he snapped.
"No need to be so hostile," Gabriel said as he turned to leave. "Lord, bless this noble oaf."
"Good riddance," my dad growled.
"Why don't you like Gabriel, Mr. Raccoon?" Melissa asked. "He was praying for you. I think that was very thoughtful of him."
"Because," my dad said, grudgingly. "The man is a complete butt kisser. He always kisses up to my boss' ass all the time and that's why he always get the big raises and all the awards. Stupid Taliesyn."
"That seems like such a senseless grudge," she said, shaking her head.
"My dad is not one to let a grudge go, even in a situation like this," I told her plainly.
Last and not least, the last visitor to come was the one person my dad dreaded the most, J. Marvin Mills himself. And he was not happy.
"Arthur Raccoon!" he shouted, angrily. "I've heard you got out of that big job I assigned you reupholstering at Sneer Mansion!"
"I can't help it, I had a heart attack…" my dad said, fearfully. He was afraid of his boss.
"That's no excuse! You could have still finished the job! You've always used these excuses! 'I have the flu!' 'I have amnesia!' 'I have a foot fungus!' Well, I've had enough of them! You've worked for me for twenty-five years, and this is the last straw!"
"Oh no," Melissa said to herself.
"Ya don't mean…?" my dad said, worried what J. Marvin would say next.
"Arthur Morgan Raccoon, YOU'RE FIRED!"
My dad gasped. "F-f-f-f-fired….?" he said, weakly.
"Yes, FIRED! I've been waiting for an opportunity to do this since the day after I hired you, and now it's finally arrived! With you gone, I believe our company productivity will increase ten-fold! Now goodbye to you, Arthur, I don't ever want to see your face again!" With that, J. Marvin left with a gleeful look on his face.
"Wow, my dad just lost his job…" I couldn't believe it. Sure, my dad had always been a lazy and slacking worker, but he had a legitimate excuse for not completing his job-he had a heart attack after all. He couldn't do anything about that. (Well, he could have eaten more healthily, but…) It was not right for J. Marvin to fire him.
"Oh no," my dad said, sadly. "Now what am I gonna do for a living? I'm fifty-six years old, and all I know how to do is lay down carpets! How am I ever gonna get another job? What will Millie say?"
"It isn't right, Mr. Raccoon," Melissa said, a tone of sympathy to her voice. "He shouldn't be able to fire you for having a legitimate excuse. That's not right of him at all."
"No, it isn't," my dad said sadly. "But what can I do about it? Now I'm gonna have to try to find another job…"
"Well, maybe you'll find a better job, Dad. Who knows?" I was trying to keep his spirits up.
"No, I'll never be able to, I'm too old. Who will want me?"
"You can try," Melissa said encouragingly.
"I'll try…" my dad sighed. "But I don't know if I'll be able to…"
"We'll see how it all turns out," I said as Melissa and I turned to leave.
"Where are you two going?" my dad asked, worriedly.
"We're going back to the Raccoondominium. It was nice staying with you, Mr. Raccoon," Melissa said, smiling.
"Don't worry, Dad. I'll be back in the morning before your surgery."
"Alright, see ya, boy…" my dad said as he looked depressingly down at the floor, saddened over losing his job.
Soon, Melissa and I were back at the Raccoondominium, chatting with Bert.
"Your dad lost his job?" Bert was surprised.
"Yes. J. Marvin Mills fired him for not getting his job done." I didn't really want to talk about it.
"He can't do that! Your dad had a heart attack! J. Marvin Mills is a cold, cold man. If anyone has no heart, it's him!" Bert was outraged about this whole situation.
"I know, Bert, but what can we do?" Melissa said, matter-of-factly. There didn't seem to be much we could do about it.
"We can try to help your dad get a new job once he's back on his feet.I can find him one!"
"Well, Bert. We'll see about that," Melissa said.
I didn't know if Dad would be able to find another job. I just hoped he'd make it through his heart surgery the next morning...
END CHAPTER FIFTEEN
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know that ending seemed maybe a little bit abrupt, but that is where I felt I wanted to end this chapter. The next chapter is the last one and features the outcome of Ralph's father's open heart surgery (No, you don't get to see it) and also features the whole Raccoon family (Minus Uncle Rocky, of course) gathering just prior to Ralph and Melissa's wedding. Also, Ralph's father has another misadventure, and Ralph and Melissa finally get married, plus you get to meet several characters from past chapters of the story.
In case you're wondering, Peter, Henry, and Gabriel are all Simpsons-inspired characters, just like Arthur Raccoon: Peter and Henry are inspired by Homer's co-workers/friends Lenny and Carl, and Gabriel Taliesyn is partially inspried by Ned Flanders (well, more of a mix between Flanders and Smithers, minus Smithers' obvious gay (Burns-sexual as the Simpsons writers called it) attraction for Mr. Burns). The reason I introduced them in this chapter is as a precursor to a fanfic I am writing next year in which they will make semi-starring roles in a (possible) subplot. Arthur's heart issues were partially inspired by a Season 4 episode of the Simpsons in which Homer had a heart attack (Homer's Triple Bypass, I think it's called).
I honestly don't have a lot to explain for this chapter, but I hoped you enjoyed it. Read and review, as always. Only one more to go, an epilogue, and a character list. It's been a fun ride.