AUTHOR'S NOTE: Welcome back! If you read this story ~seven years ago, you'll now be receiving updates every threeish days! Enjoy! And yes, I said all that already.
"Letters to the Red-Haired", a Peanuts fanfiction
The Fish and Chips Chapter
"Uh, excuse me..." He started to ask.
But their manager had already disappeared to the back.
"Adults always disappearing..." Mumbled the boy with the spiky brown hair.
"Disappearing?" Asked the red-haired girl.
He sighed. That sigh again...
"Never mind." He shrugged. "Might as well get to work."
Leo's Fish and Chips had very picky manegement. They wanted people that said "please", "thank you", "you're welcome". But most importantly, they wanted people that would actually show up.
Out of those that applied, only these two had showed up their interviews, and so the management could no longer afford to be picky. Luckily, they were quite nice people anyway.
Today was their first day of work - they were both given a white shirt for a uniform, and the manager ducked into her office, leaving the yellow-shirted boy and the red-haired girl alone. The only instructions from the manager was to...
"Clean sloooowwwwly. And never bring a dog to work, she said." The boy rolled his eyes, but smiled, as they got out of the cleaning supplies. "I wonder what would happened if we cleaned quickly?"
The red-haired girl smiled, but she noticed he wouldn't meet her eyes. She frowned.
"So..." She said, as she grabbed a mop.
"Yes?" His eyes were focussed on his spray bottle, filled with a pink cleaning solution.
She steeled herself. "I don't think I caught your name, actually."
"Well..." He still wasn't looking at her.
"Do you... uh, prefer not to share?" She remembered that she didn't share where she came from yesterday, so it was fair if he wanted to return the favour. Surprisingly, though...
"Charles." He said, not looking up.
That name almost sounded familiar too...
"Do you mind if I ask for your surname?"
He turned to her with a grin. "You really suit your role, you know!"
She tilted her head. "Excuse me?"
"Asking all these questions. Since you plan to be a future journalist - well, I reckon you'll be good at it!"
"Oh!" She hid her face, looking down at her mop. "I'm surprised you remembered that."
"Well, it was only a week ago, how could I not?"
"No, it's more..." She didn't want to say she felt no-one bothered remembering these things about her.
Ding-a-ling! The bell rang again, and the first customer came through. Charles attended to them jovially.
"Heather, can you grab some chips from the back? It's a big order." He turned around and asked.
"Su... sure." She propped her broom up, walking to the back, past the manager's office.
"Um, do you know where the chips are?" She asked as she passed. The manager grunted in response, and gestured to inside the office. It was a cramped dark place, with stacks of papers and boxes of frozen food. It was very cold. "How do are you not freezing..." Heather asked, more to herself.
"It's what she prefers." The manager replied.
"Huh?" Heather asked, and the manager gestured to the corner. There was a cat laying lazily. Heather was about to ask if it was a health code violation, but thought against it. She did catch a glance at the manager's screen. Oh, she's registering us as employees...
She was inputting Heather's own name and surname, which was at the end of the file. As, she started on the next,
Heather realised he could learn his surname this way! Maybe that would strike a memory? She could figure out who he was?
You're being crazy... why are you so curious about him anyway? Heather asked herself. She ignored that voice again,
The manager turned to her as Heather realised she was just standing there. "Um, ah, grabbing the box...!" Heather pretended to fumble around while the manager rolled her eyes and went back to the computer.
Every so often, Heather would glance, and glance, and glance...
Until finally, the name was about to be inputted. This was the moment. It felt very important for Heather to know this, for some reason. And obviously, it was important to him as well, because he hesitated, and he avoided the question, and...
The manager had only put the word "Charles", before Heather went out of the room.
She couldn't watch... he should share in his own time. And I'll respect that. Heather thought to herself promptly.
You're too nice to yourself. You figured out how to get his surname! Let yourself be smart! Another part of her said.
He's still kinda cute. Said a third part, which again she ignored.
She had come out carrying a box of half-frozen chips. "Ah, well done..." Charles said, who had continued wiping the grimy benches. Heather put the fries in the hot oil vat so they could be cooked.
After she had returned with the chips, she and Charles continued to work. It got busier and busier - "This fish and chips place is surprisingly popular!" Charles exclaimed - as they worked together, not making any personal conversation, and finally arrived to the end of their shift.
"Busy day, hasn't it been?" Charles asked.
She made a face. "Some of the customers were a bit annoying. You're a lot better at talking to them."
He raised his eyebrows. "Me? No! I'm not any good at talking to people!"
She smiled. "I care to disagree, thank you." She was about to say more, when the manager interrupted them both.
"Good work the lot of you." Surprisingly, she didn't seem too upset. She had to be called out several times during the shift, and she looked annoyed them, but seemed fine now. The manager went into detail about when they would receive their pay as they all cleaned together.
"Well, I'm sure she's happy she made a profit today..." Wondered Charles aloud as they walked out of the shop together.
"Maybe she's just happy we did a good job?" Said Heather.
"Or maybe both!" Charles turned to her, and they shared a smile. Heather's heart skipped a beat.
"Do you live close? Maybe we're walking that way? I mean, the same way"
He stumbled over his words, but she smiled at his forwardness.
"Well... I'm not."
"Oh."
"But you can walk me to my bus stop, if you like?"
"Oh!"
They walked out the shop together, Heather closing the door behind them. "Did you see the manager's office?" She asked.
"No, why?"
"The manager has a cat there!"
He laughed, and then looked away solemnly.
"What is it?" She asked.
"Ah... nothing. I used to have a pet dog."
"Oh, I'm sorry..."
He smiled. "He's still in America. I'm sure he's fine."
She was confused. Then what do you mean used to? Again, she didn't press him about what he meant, but instead asked, "Do you have any stories about him?"
"Well..."
They walked home together. He seemed reluctant to talk about his dog directly, so instead opted to talk about two of his dog's brothers.
"Olaf and Andy were always getting lost around the country... they were only trying to find the desert! Olaf was chubby, and Andy was very fuzzy..."
Heather listened. She liked the way he talked, and how he seemed less uncertain in himself when he was just going on and on.
"And eventually, the two dogs went to the wrong desert again... oh, we're here."
They were at the bus stop, and the bus was already here!
"Oh! Um, I'm sorry, I have to go!" She said, alarmed, and jumped on the bus. She turned back to him apologetically. "You'll have to tell me more about those two dogs sometime!"
He smiled. "I'll hold you to that." The bus drove off, and Heather waved goodbye as Charles faded into the distance.
She still hadn't learned his full name... or why he was so familiar... but she still considered today successful. She got closer to this mysterious boy, after all. Maybe, after a few more shifts, she could finally recognise him... and figure out where he came from, who he is, and why he seems so familiar.
...
A gentle breeze as the sun sets. A yellow-shirted boy walked through the streets, weaving through bins and cars. He smiled at the old Scottish people that waved back at him.
"The strangers here really treat me kind..." He said. It was a welcome change of pace, but he just knew it was only because no-one knew who he was here in Glasgow. Right?
Eventually, he found himself at the house complex he was looking for. He walked up the stairs to the second floor, slowly, the metal creaking after every step.
Finally, he had reached the front door, an old wooden thing. He knocked on the door, and was about to speak when it opened immediately.
Charlie Brown smiled at the frowning lady who opened the door. "Hello again, pencil-pal..."
...
Dear Snoopy,
We're thinking of going worldwide soon. Yes, we've traveled all over America. It's time for us to cross the oceans.
Olaf doesn't think this is a good idea. It will be fine, though. We're going to get our license in every vehicle possible so we can travel wherever we like.
By the way, would you mind telling us how you got your pilot's license? If you know someone that would be able to get it for us quick, let us know. We would appreciate any shortcuts.
Your brother,
Andy
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, we'll see how this turns out, hmm...? Two chapters down! Five to go! See you next time in The Pencil-Pal Chapter! And be sure to leave a review of your thoughts, both goods, bads, and interestings!