(The following is a nonprofit work of fanfiction and is outside of the original canon. All names, characters, businesses, places, events, and/or incidents of any kind depicted within this story are being used for entertainment purposes only.)
(The Loud House and all related characters were created by Chris Savino and all rights belong to Nickelodeon.)
Seventeen chapters and counting. Man, it's just so unbelievable that I've made it this far. It really feels like I've been writing this story for years even though it's only been one, starting all the way back in last April. Had I been in a better mind knowing about THIS April, I would have written and posted this chapter earlier to help coincide with what would be this story's one year anniversary. Well..., better late than never, I guess. LOL.
And on a sidenote, if you're reading this, U.N. Owen, I want you to know I'm very glad you like chapter sixteen. But it would seem that you've somehow confused Lincoln's Sony Watchman with the Watchmen comic book series. That was not at all what I was refering to. I was specifically refering to the portable handeld device Sony made back around that time. The same one I had previously mentioned all the way back in chapters two, three, and four.
And besides, I strongly doubt both Lincoln's parents would even allow him and the rest of his siblings to get within an arm's length near the Watchmen comic book series, knowing that it contains a certain amount of adult content that no young kid his age should be exposed to.
I'm not trying to be rude or make you look or feel foolish, man. I'm just letting you know, is all. ;)
Now that that is all cleared up, please, enjoy this new chapter.
- Chapter Seventeen -
Time with Pop-Pop
Later that day…
The rest of the day seemed to have gone by very quickly in a flash before I even realized it. One moment, I was watching cartoons with my little sisters and then in the next, all thirteen of us were driving down through the east side of town to go visit our grandfather. As Dad kept his hands firmly on the steering wheel, Mom fiddled around with Vanzilla's radio, twisting the left-side dial clockwise and counter-clockwise, changing between one music station after the other.
Eventually, she found the one she was looking for, and for the rest of the car ride, we listened and sang along to many of our favorite songs...
So far, we went from such classics like Men at Work's Who Can It Be Now?, Talk Talk's Life's What You Make It, Billy Ocean's Caribbean Queen, to Pat Benatar's Hit Me with Your Best Shot, A Flock of Seagulls' I Ran (So Far Away), and then to Whitney Houston's I Wanna Dance with Somebody—which also happened to be Lori's second favorite song from the aforementioned singer. The next song to play on the radio after that was Twisted Sister's I Wanna Rock.
"Finally! Some real music!" Luna shouted very happily, shooting her arms up into the air.
Oh boy, here we go, I thought as my head shrunk between my shoulders, knowing exactly what was about to happen next. And so, from her own seat, Luna went completely bananas, air guitaring with her hands and thrashing around her shaggy, brown-haired head to the rhythm of the song. She did so with such intensity that she began to shake the van around like it was going through a massive earthquake.
When I said that Luna was a rock and roll fanatic like you wouldn't believe, I was not exaggerating. Our sixteen-year-old sister lived and breathed rock music with a level of passion unlike any other. In fact, one of Luna's most favorite musicians, Mick Swagger, whose music not only fiercely ignited her passion of the genre, but it also inspired her into wanting to become a rock star herself. Since then, that same love never died away, continuing to leave quite the impression on her.
Too bad it also made her go out of control at times.
"Whoa, take it easy back there, kiddo!" Dad called out from the driver's seat, trying to get her attention.
"You keep thrashing your head around like that and you'll seriously hurt your neck!" Mom added.
"Or worse; bounce Vanzilla off into space." Lynn commented with a whisper, which caused a little snicker out of me.
"I can't help it!" Luna replied, stopping for a moment. "I just totally love this song!"
"Yeah, we've literally noticed." Lori commented aloud with a smirk, sitting in her usual seat next to Leni in front of Lynn and me.
Right after Twisted Sister was finished playing, Mom decided to turn off the radio, allowing nothing but near silence within the confines of Vanzilla. We begged her to turn it back on, but she responded by giving us a firm yet gentle no, saying something about saving our energy for when we visit Pop-Pop. After breathing through my nose, I leaned further back into my seat as the rest of my siblings went about and talked amongst themselves.
With an immediate turn or more from one block to the next through town, we spotted our destination dead ahead, the whole mansion-like building quickly coming into view. As Dad carefully eased Vanzilla into the parking lot through the entranceway, I saw a wooden sign displaying itself quite proudly over at the front of the building. On the white-painted flat surface, the sign read, "Sunset Canyon Retirement Home" in that classic art deco style of text.
The building itself practically towered above us by a little more than fifty feet, reaching up to the top of the weathervane, and the rest intimately expanded to the width of a high school football field. There were a few square-shaped windows and some gracefully trimmed shrubbery spread around from each side of the front door and the property. The outer walls themselves were painted a yellowish white, almost the same color as vanilla pudding.
Once we found ourselves an empty parking spot that was much closer to the building itself, Dad shut off the van's engine and we all piled on outside like a large group of circus clowns. In a moment of sheer impulse, Lynn challenged me to a short race. Without even waiting for me to give an answer, she took off like a rocket towards the front entrance, leaving us behind. I lightly shook my head and just smiled, walking in a more casual pace to her exact location.
I had lost far too many races with my sports-loving sister to even bother trying anymore. When we finally walked through the double front doors, we were greeted with a very wonderful sight. It took about a second for us to register that we were now in the building's main lobby, and it's decor appeared like it had barely changed since the late 1970's. There was a large red fireplace at the front end, and a big colorfully abstract painting hung directly above it.
I always thought that painting seemed like it should actually belong in an art museum rather than a nursing home. There was a small number of furniture close to the fireplace's overall location, consisting of a short wooden nightstand positioned between a cushioned olive-green chair and a floral decorated couch. On the opposite side was a slightly longer couch, one that was colored brown, and all made of wool.
And finally, in the very center was a circular, knee-high wooden coffee table with a gray blue porcelain pot in the middle and a specific number of old magazines that dated from years prior. A few senior citizens walked around the place—with the helpful assistance of the available orderlies. I inhaled a deep breath through my nose, taking in the smell of the lemon pledge hanging in the air. You could always count on this place for being so nice and pristine—which was more I could say for some nursing homes out there.
"You know what I like about Sunset Canyon, Rita?" I heard Dad say to Mom.
"What's that, dear?" Mom asked, holding Lily in her arms.
"It's always so tidy around here." Dad explained. "And I barely hear a negative word of it too. No complaints, no poor living conditions, no lazy and abusive staff, no problems whatsoever. Out of all the other nursing homes in town Al could have live in, I think he made the right call in choosing to come here instead."
"I definitely second that, Lynn," Mom concurred with a smile. "And who knows, when the two of us get older, we might decide to retire here too someday. I mean, you never know." Our old man chuckled.
"Took the words right out of my mouth, honey," our old man said as he lovingly wrapped an arm over Mom's shoulders. We walked over to the front desk where a nurse sat behind it, jotting down something on a brown clipboard with her pen. She was a heavy set-looking woman with brown hair tied into a large bun and her pinned nametag had the name "Sue" printed on the front of it. She looked up at us and her lips curled into a bright and genuine smile.
"Hey there, Louds!" she greeted us, setting down her clipboard. "What can I do you for?"
"Hey, Sue," Dad greeted back. "We're here to see Albert."
"Alright then," she said, handing the clipboard over to our old man. "Just sign right down here and you're all good to go." Our father wasted no time in taking the clipboard from her pudgy hands and he wrote down each of our names and how long we were staying on the piece of paper. When that was finished, he handed it back to Sue, who examined it, and gave a satisfied expression.
"Okay, now if you all will just follow me," the nurse said, getting up from her black leather computer chair and moving away from the front desk. As instructed, we closely followed her from the lobby to the far-right side of the building through the east-wing hallway, heading towards a pair of double wooden doors which led us straight into the cafeteria. I looked over to my side and saw both Lola and Lana exchanging bright glances, clearly excited to see our grandfather—not that I could really blame them.
The cafeteria was loaded with square-shaped wooden tables, seated with more elderly folks, who either talked amongst themselves or ate their plate of dinner. On the far opposite end was a wide open-windowed counter, revealing the entire kitchen in the back where the chefs were working vigorously in making more dinner, and standing closely next to the counter was a big blackboard with the entire menu written completely in white chalk.
From the look of it, one part of the written menu read that they were having some kind of meatloaf special for the day.
On the far-left side was an extended buffet table containing plastic cups, plates, silverware, and napkins as well as the abundance of food that appeared like it had already been gone through yet there was still enough to feed more people. And finally, an old but still working vending machine was located just at one other end of the cafeteria by its lonesome, looking like it was barely touched all day. Then again, it could have been used and I didn't know it.
"There he is!" Leni pointed out cheerily. Over at one table in the far-left corner of the cafeteria sat a certain elderly man with an empty plate, and he appeared like he was in the middle of reading a fairly used book. My face beamed with joy the second I laid my eyes on this man, knowing him to be none other than our own maternal grandfather Albert, or as we commonly and affectionately knew him as "Pop-Pop".
Albert, our mother's father, was a seventy-something-year-old man with a bushy gray mustache and a full head of snow-white hair, just like mine. Least I knew where my hair color came from—or so I believed. He was a burley-looking man with a matching height like Dad's, and he had a faded anchor tattoo on his right forearm. His clothes comprised of a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and a pair of yellow suspenders to help keep his blue denim pants up.
"Pop-Pop!" Lola and Lana exclaimed before making their way through the cafeteria in excited haste, running through and nearly bumping over anybody who got in their way. Pop-Pop looked up from his book and a smile grew on his fairly wrinkled face.
"Kiddos!" he said, setting his book down and moving to the side to embrace the twins in a warm hug. He got back up to his feet from his chair once he saw the rest of us and walked over to our location with Lola and Lana in tow. In no time, we all ganged up together into one giant group hug and let go after a few seconds.
"I'll just go ahead and leave you all to it then. You guys enjoy yourselves." Nurse Sue said before walking away and disappearing through the double wooden doors behind us. From there, we followed after Pop-Pop back to his table while half of my siblings went over to the buffet to grab themselves some food. I finally got a better view of my grandpa's book from earlier and saw very plainly that it was an old copy of Tom Clancy's debut novel, The Hunt for Red October.
"Why don't you grab yourself a plate of grub, slugger?" my grandfather said to me, gently nudging me in the shoulder with his large hand.
"Sure thing, Pop-Pop," I answered back, before making my way over to the buffet table. After having done so, I noticed from the immediate right corner of my eye at the other end of the buffet table that Lola and Lana were wasting no time in filling up large bowlfuls of butterscotch flavored pudding from the pudding machine. They licked their lips in hunger and that very child-like level of anticipation, their big bug eyes bulging wide. I chuckled and shook my head.
I'll never understand why girls love to eat sweet foods so much, I thought to myself. Desserts, candy, it's all the same to them.
Grabbing some silverware and a large plate of my own, I carefully examined the selection of meals they had made for the day.
Down across the buffet table, there was mashed potatoes, green beans, diced carrots and peas, a bit of coleslaw, small plastic cups of processed applesauce, and thick cut slices of the previously mentioned meat loaf, which rested beneath a heat lamp on top of a deep metal tray. There was almost enough food that could feed an entire army. I selected the specific number of food items I wanted, my mouth fundamentally salivating with hunger, and then peacefully made my way back to our respective table with Pop-Pop and the others.
For the remainder of dinner, we talked about what we did so far for the summer and our plans for later; Lori's plans for college, Leni's clothing designs, Luna writing a new song, Luan's material for her comedy, Lucy with her poetry, and Lisa's recent lab experiment, etcetera. As this was going on, I turned my head and noticed Lynn was looking elsewhere, and I quickly realized she had her gaze fixed on a random football game that was playing on a CRT TV set hanging on a wall mount in one corner of the room.
She seriously can't go one day without watching anything sports related! I thought annoyedly. Would it really kill her to try out another hobby? Like, just this once? I then looked over and spotted Lucy, who sat in between Leni and Lola, with a plate of meatloaf of her own, except hers was just drowning in so much ketchup. I raised a single eyebrow in confusion—but then I quickly remembered that she sometimes liked her dish to be "bloody", so to speak. I stared at our goth or a sister weirdly, as did Leni and Lola, sharing my exact sentiments.
"Anything new that you plan on doing, sporto?" I heard Pop-Pop suddenly ask me. I turned around to look up at him and I could see the corners of his smile on each side of his large mustache. I flashed him a smile of my own.
"Well, I'm gonna see if I can try to watch the new Jaws movie tomorrow," I declared. He furrowed his lined brows.
"Another one?" he questioned. I nodded my head in confirmation.
"Yeah, I know, I know." I said, acknowledging what he was thinking. "But I'm totally hoping this one will be better."
"Didn't I hear that there's also going to be a movie of the Garbage Pail Kids?" he asked intriguingly, scratching the top of his white-haired head. I nodded again, more speedily this time.
"Now that one I'm more excited to see!" I replied, the feeling of anxiousness. "Because you know me; I love me some Garbage Pail Kids."
"No surprise there," Lola commented disdainfully, before shoving a spoonful of her butterscotch pudding into her mouth.
"Ugh, like, grody to the max!" Leni added, her lips curling in disgust. I just lowkey rolled my eyes at my sisters' nonsense. As we were just about finished, we heard a loud bang coming from the double wooden doors, which burst wide open. We whipped around and saw a very familiar elderly woman riding on a scooter driving suddenly through the cafeteria.
"Out of my way, slowpokes!" she cried out with a maniacal laugh, a large wrinkly smile plastered on her lined face. Pop-Pop let out a hearty chuckle.
"I was wondering when Scoots was going to show up." he commented. Scoots was quite an interesting old woman back then, if not a bit overly eccentric. She appeared very much like she was at least somewhere in her seventies—though how old she was exactly, she never once revealed to anybody. Whenever somebody asked her, she would always reply to them with, "Old enough. And that's all you'll ever know!" before laughing and riding off like the wind.
On top of her gray-haired head was a turquoise hat with a small pink flower on it, and she was garbed in a white button-down sweater, and brown pants. Covering her eyes were a pair of large black sunglasses, which humorously made her look like the Terminator. And finally, she drove a three-wheeled, battery-operated mobility scooter with a white wired basket mounted on the front. For as long as we had known her, she always rode on that scooter everywhere she went, even outside Sunset Canyon and around town—more than she actually walked on her own two legs.
At least it gave us an idea where her name came from. As she zoomed through the cafeteria, almost knocking anyone who got in her way, she rode over to the buffet table, grabbed a plate and some silverware, and she hauled it to the other side, snatching each food item onto her plate in one blur. She then drew her own personal coffee mug from behind her scooter and filled it up to the brim with orange juice. With her task finished, she rode through the room again and found herself a table with a couple of other elders.
"I swear, that lady literally has to be on something to make her this wild," Lori whispered right before taking a bite of her meatloaf.
I smirked amusingly.
"Tell me about it," Luna agreed while rolling her eyes, sitting next to Lori's left.
"I concur." Lisa included, readjusting her glasses. "I find the idea of an elderly female such as herself being so full of an implausible level of energy to be quite ridiculous in of itself."
"I'll bet my money she's on that white powder stuff, if you know what I'm talking about." Lynn whispered lowly. Both my eyebrows knit together, and I stared at my sister for having said such an absurd and stupid thing. An old woman like Scoots taking drugs? Not a chance in the world. They would destroy her insides. And even if she was, the orderlies would have found out and taken them away from her already. A speculative thought suddenly occurred to me from out of the blue.
Unless she somehow found a way to hide them, I mentally said to myself.
"Either that or she forgot to take her medication this morning," Lucy commented drearily, taking a big bite of her ketchup-soaked meatloaf, much to my disgust.
"Ah, come on, girls," Leni tried reasoning. "I think she's, like, totally charming." That was just like my sister Leni. Always so innocently trying to see the best in everybody. Admirable, but also naïve.
"In what regard exactly?" I heard Lola mutter doubtfully.
"Hey, Al. Is there any salt around here?" I heard Dad asked Pop-Pop suddenly. "No offense, but I think this food could use just a little more zest, if you know what I'm saying." Given my father's position in our family as a highly skilled, self-trained cook, he knew precisely what he was talking about when it came to food that needed to have just the right level of seasoning. Sunset Canyon's meatloaf was good, don't get me wrong. But it didn't taste the way Dad would make it at home.
"Oh, sorry to disappoint you, Lynn," said Pop-Pop, scratching the back of his head. "But I'm afraid they no longer serve any salt around here. Not since the High Blood Pressure Epidemic of 1983." Dad smiled understandably and half shrugged his shoulders.
"Eh, not to worry at all," he said before digging into his left pants pocket. "A chef is always prepared for moments like this." I looked on from my seat as my father, making sure that no other prying eyes were watching him, fished out a small white packet of iodized salt, gently tore the top half off, and lowkey sprinkled the appropriate amount of it around every corner of his slices of meatloaf and vegetables.
Count yourself lucky nobody caught you on the spot, Dad. I thought with a small smile. Almost the next several minutes went by before we were finally finished with dinner, and we went out to the nursing home's backyard for a fun game of shuffleboard. The backyard itself was pretty pleasant, very open and spacy, just big enough to walk around and not worry about having to bump into any unsuspecting patron. There were a certain number of wooden benches here and there, and the fresh green grass was cut into a fine trim.
It was like Sunset Canyon had its own personal-sized park. We went over to one part of the area where a couple of shuffleboard courts were located, and we assembled a few cue sticks and each of four large red and yellow pucks. Each of us took turns on who would be competing against whom. Mom and Lori were the ones to play first. As mother and daughter competed against each other, Pop-Pop sat down on a close by wooden bench, as did the remainder of us, and he told us quite a few interesting stories of his own childhood back in the 20's.
As a little kid, I always enjoyed listening to him tell fun stories of his youth. It was one of the many things that I loved to do whenever we came to visit him in good old Sunset Canyon. The only thing that would make it more complete was if I had an plastic ice cream cup and a small wooden spoon in my hands, just something for me to indulge in while I listened.
"Are you serious, Pop-Pop?" questioned Lynn almost disbelievingly. "It really used to cost fifteen cents for one movie ticket?" Our grandfather nodded his head.
"You bet, slugger," he confirmed. "Heck, even a single glass bottle of Coca-Cola around that time used to cost only one nickel, believe it or not."
I whistled, amazed to even hear such a thing.
"Sounds a lot like you've had it easier, Pop-Pop." I commented.
"Yeah..." Lana spoke aloud in wonderment. "Now that I think about it, prices these days are fairly expensive compared to way-back-when". Pop-Pop merely shrugged his shoulders.
"Eh, I still think three dollars and ninety-one cents doesn't sound that bad." he assured. "But hey, it could be worse. They could have inflated the price to more than eight dollars for one ticket."
"Well, let's hope that doesn't happen in the nearest future," Dad commented, keeping Lily steady on his lap. "The prices we have now are already bad enough as it is. The last thing this country needs is further inflation being added to the fire."
If only he knew ahead of time what was going to happen thirty years from now.
"Couldn't agree more on that, Lynn." Pop-Pop said with a hearty chuckle. But then he froze for a second, now looking like he just remembered something—which he actually did. He turned once more to look at Dad. "Say, Lynn. Did you hear they're releasing a new Star Trek series yet?" Almost immediately, my father looked like his bottom jaw was about to fall down to the floor.
"No way! Really?" he asked, excitement now showing on his face. It was around this timeframe that Dad also happened to be one of the biggest fans of Star Trek in the world. To be more specific, he was a fan of the original series from the mid-1960's. You know, the one with Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock? It was actually pretty funny because whereas Dad was a diehard fan of Star Trek, I was mostly one for Star Wars—though it didn't stop me from giving the former a try, and I found it to be a lot to my liking as well. So, I guess you could easily color me a fan of both.
Dad continued to stare at Pop-Pop, as did I, our eyes now wide as saucers.
"Are you being serious, Al?" he asked, a prevailing excited hitch in his voice. Pop-Pop smiled big and inclined his white-haired head into a nod.
"As serious as I'll ever be, Lynn," our grandfather said to our old man. "I saw the commercial for it just earlier this afternoon. They're calling it Star Trek: The Next Generation. And it's going to be starring that bald-headed British guy from Dune." I noticed that when Pop-Pop said the word, "British", Dad became a whole lot more ecstatic than he was before, and I quickly recalled his fanboy-like affinity for British culture. I was kind of surprised he didn't jump to his feet and do the Scottish jig on the spot.
"When's it coming out?" he asked, sounding like a kid in a candy store.
"I think the commercial said it was coming out this September," Pop-Pop informed.
"At least now you have something else to look forward to later this year, Dad." Lana spoke up. Our old man smiled and gently padded her on her red cap-covered head. It was only a matter of time until Mom and Lori were finished with their round of shuffleboard, with our mother having won the game in the end. Lori lost by only fifty-seven points and Mom managed to score up to about seventy-six, coming out on top as her the victor.
After we had gone on for nearly a full hour, taking turns on who played against whom, we then started to get a little bored and headed back into the main building. Just as we entered through the sliding glass door, which was located in the middle of the east wing hallway, a fast blur abruptly zoomed right past us. I quickly registered that it was Scoots up to her usual antics and was no doubt riding back into her own room.
"Hi-ho, Silver, away!" she cried out excitedly as two orderlies chased after her.
"Still think she forgot her medication?" I whispered over to Lucy, who only shrugged her little shoulders in reply.
"I still think she's taking that white powder stuff." Lynn whispered as well.
"I admit, Scoots can be a bit of a wild card sometimes," I reasoned. "But I think even she knows better than to be a total wastoid." Lynn crossed her arms.
"That remains to be actually seen," she countered. When we made it through the east wing and back to the main lobby, I felt Lynn suddenly nudge against my already sensitive arm. She looked at me with that same all too familiar smile I had seen countless times over the years since I had known my sister.
"Race you to Pop-Pop's room!" she exclaimed excitedly. Before I could even have the slightest chance to stop her, she was already gone, taking off once more like rocket ship, speeding on through the other side of the lobby, almost running into other people—seniors and orderlies alike—in the process.
"JACKKNIFE!" she yelled to the top of her lungs, arms shooting up in the air.
"Lynn Loud Jr.! You get back here this instant!" Mom yelled after her, with Dad speedily following suit. Just like before, I smiled and shook my head, following along with our group at a more normal and leisure pace.
"And people say Scoots and I are out of control." Luna commented, smiling wryly, as well as earning a chuckle from the rest of us.
I think now would be a pretty good time as any to reveal something that I've been holding out on for a while. I'm making a musical playlist for this story. You know how movies would sometimes have rock albums to coincide with the release of said movie their based on? Well, I thought it would be nice if I did that as well, and I've got quite a good selection of 80's songs lined up so far.
If you guys want to see it, then I'm afraid you're all going to have to wait until the end of this fic. Trust me. In the end, it will be worth the wait.
So, until then, keep your heads in the clouds, your feet on the ground, and have a blessed day. ;)