An AH version of "Café
Disaffecto", inspired by Ace Trax's "Darian" series.
I suggest that you read "Darren's
Estimation" to have a better idea of what's going-on in here. For
comments/criticisms e-mail Bacner at Olgak531@rogers.com.
Daria and related characters
are property of MTV, Noggin, etc. No copyright infringement is intended.
Café Ineffective
Prologue
Tonight in
This
particular alarm system was installed at alt.lawndale.com, a place installed
long ago to promote the international popularity of Lawndale High, but it had
rather failed, and so the police were a bit... slacking, when they drove towards
it. After all, the most they expected to find there was some vandalism, right?
Wrong. When
the heroic upholders of law and order in
"Oh my
god!" one of the cops whistled, seeing the scene of the crime, now
pristinely clean - as in having nothing on it - neither vandals, nor any
furniture or electronics.
"Crikey!"
echoed the other cop. "This place has been wiped clean. We've got to
inform the owner." He paused. "Who is - or was - the owner of this
dump?"
"According
to this plaque on the door," the first cop spoke in a rather downbeat
voice. "This cybercafe was sponsored by Lawndale High."
The second
cop's face fell too, and he, with a rather martyred expression, went towards
the nearest phone. "When Li finds that we didn't prevent this, she'll eat
us alive."
And she
almost did.
Chapter 1
The next day,
everything continued as it has before, as if several thousands of dollars worth
of computers hadn't evaporated into thin air without police having any leads as
to who done it.
"Come on
Mack Daddy! I'll get the coach to write us a note. I'll say we need extra time
on the free weights," Kevin whined. He, for example, had more
pressing concerns than some consumers. He was about to face the English
class, something that he feared dreadfully. And that Shakespeare was such a
pain in the arse for a long-dead guy, too.
"Don't
call me that, okay?" Mack snapped. "He's not gonna excuse you from
English for weight training."
"I can't
take anymore of this Shakespeare dude bro. He's like, a total chick
writer!"
"Hi
Mack! Hi Romeo..." Brittany, Kevin's girlfriend, called-out as she walked
passed them. She didn't have anything against Shakespeare. She thought
that he wrote some rather nice things. If only her Kevie would be more
understanding.
"See?"
Kevin said, sounding even whinier than before. He almost hated it when Brittany
got into one of those poetic moods - whenever she started to act like that, he
almost never ever got any mookie.
"Maybe
we'll start Hamlet today. That has a skull in it," Mack sighed.
"Really?"
Kevin perked up.
At that
moment another boy joined onto the scene - Darren John Morgendorffer, a
newcomer to LH. He was acting cheerful and singing: "...When we'll cross the
river Rhine, when we'll cross the river Rhine, we will say Azochen vine,
we will say Azochen vine... Excuse me."
"Hah?"
"Move
away from my locker, dude."
Kevin,
however, didn't do so. "Darren, you're a brain, right?"
"Why'd
you ask? You have a biology test today?"
"Like,
why would I be interested in anything that Shakespeare guy says?"
Darren
paused. "What about Shakespeare?"
"We're
having Hamlet," Mack said.
"Oh,
well, in that case," Darren said contritely, looking with as much kindness
at Kevin as he could muster. "You can probably hold a skull." He put
the books in his bags and walked-off to the English class, whistling something
in that merry tune.
"Somebody's
in a good mood today," Mack spoke.
"Yeah!"
Kevin echoed. "What a nerd."
Timothy
O'Neill was feeling like a man condemned to Hell while still alive. This
started a few weeks - about a month - ago, when his boss, Angela Li, started to
act all smug and mysterious. This, as the staff at Lawndale High had learned to
fear, meant that she made yet another grand plan to improve Lawndale
High, and that meant - at least to O'Neill - that they all sled down to Hell
just a bit closer.
Or maybe he
was just silly, and his overly religious upbringing was acting-up again. After
all, wasn't it the meek who were supposed to enter the kingdom of the lord?
Or was it the
righteous?
O'Neill
looked at the faces of the students before him and sighed. How he longed to
educate them without having to stick to Li's rules. But alas, that was
not to be.
The bell
rang, signifying the beginning of the next class. O'Neill sighed and began to
follow Li's directions, like he had always done.
"Class,
I thought we'd take a break from the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet and discuss
the real life tragedy that happened here in Lawndale. Let's share our feelings
of violation following the loss of Lawndale's cybercafe -
alt.lawndale.com," he paused. "Who would like to start? Charles?
Charles, did you hear me?"
"You
mean, Kevin?" the boy replied.
"Kevin,
I'm sorry. You uh, look like somebody else. What do you have to say about last
night's horrible event?"
Kevin began
to frantically think. Was O'Neill trying to pin the heist of the computers on
him? Not if Kevin himself had something to say about it. "I was home all
night. You can ask my parents. Besides, I already have a computer," he
quickly said, proud at his own alibi.
O'Neill
sighed. This was not going to be easy. "No Kevin, I mean how did it make
you feel?"
Kevin paused.
This seemed like a harmless question. "Um, sad?"
O'Neill
frowned. "Are you asking me or telling me?"
Kevin decided
to try again. He'll show Mr. O'Neill that nobody could confuse the QB!
"Angry?"
O'Neill
blinked, now really confused. "Hmmm... Jodie, how about you?"
Jodie looked
up, and if it was anyone else but O'Neill, they would've caught the pointy
glance that she sent towards Darren. "I think the cybercafe served one
very particular segment of the community. But it still pisses me off when
people take what isn't theirs."
"That's
how I feel!" Kevin joyfully said, deciding to get rid of Mr. O'Neill
inquiries once and for all.
"Thank
you, Kevin," O'Neill absent-mindedly said, forgetting about the QB
already. "About that word, community. Isn't that the whole idea of a
cybercafe? To jack us in to the global community? What's most disturbing about
this crime is the symbolism involved. Don't you agree Jane?"
Jane paused,
and decided to go with her traditional response. "No."
But Mr.
O'Neill didn't listen to her, as he went whole-heartedly into Ms. Li's speech.
"Suddenly we're cut off. We can't hail our friends across the globe and
say, "It's a beautiful day in the cyberhood." They didn't just take a
few computers. They took a symbol of our virtual community. To visit
alt.lawndale.com was to come together with the planet!"
The class
listened to it half-awed. They never saw their English talking so passionately.
Needless to say, they were impressed. Even the new kid, Darren.
"To
misquote Nero, what a great actor died in vain," he muttered quietly, but
O'Neill heard him all the same.
"Yes?
What were you saying?" he spoke.
If anybody
were to look at Darren's face, they'd see a trace of a smug smile appear on his
face briefly before Darren put on his most monotone face, folded his arms
across his chest, and began to speak. "Come together with the planet? By
staring at a screen for hours? Sitting in a room full of people you never say a
word to?"
"Interesting
point, Dorian," O'Neill worriedly said. There was something about this kid
that just bothered him...
"It's Darren,"
the boy said sharply.
Mr. O'Neill
quickly made a show of killing a spider on his desk. "Damn spiders.
Darren. You believe that while connecting Lawndale citizens with global
neighbours, the cafe was alienating us from each other?"
"I'm
saying if you really miss the place, put a Mr. Coffee in the computer
lab."
Mr. O'Neill
decided to treat this as a window of opportunity. "So, in your opinion,
what we really need is a return to the traditional coffee house of yore, where
you'd watch some performers and share a cup with your friends face to
face?"
Jane sighed
to Darren. "Well, ain't he a visionary?"
But Mr.
O'Neill didn't hear, he was back in his world. "Right here and now, let's
pledge to make Darren's dream a reality."
"You
mean the one where it looks like it was taken straight out of d20's Modern
Role-playing game?" Darren sarcastically asked.
"The
coffee house! We'll plan it, locate it, raise money for it, and open it!"
Mr. O'Neill chirped in reply.
Jodie
suddenly looked thoughtful. "Would this qualify as an extracurricular activity?"
"Of
course.
"Then,"
Jodie said, while giving Darren another pointed look, "I'd like to
register as a conscience objector."
Today is
promising to be great, Ms. Li thought happily as she watched the events unfold
on the monitor of her surveillance system. I've finally found-out how to
make that damn cybercafe make money for this school again!
And I also
seem to become better at manipulating people, and establishing a firmer control
at school too!
she added to herself, gleefully. O'Neill did his part, the young Mr.
Morgendorffer bit as I knew he would, and as for Miss Landon... Ms. Li
actually smiled. Well, Miss Landon is now eating some humble pie, and so's
her wretched mother - I hope.
The last
thought made Ms. Li positively gleeful. After several years of eating crow by
Michelle Landon it felt great to let the latter know that her precious
offspring suddenly became expandable in Ms. Li's eyes.
When Darren
Morgendorffer had uttered that self-esteem speech, he had pretty much proved
that he was just as good as Jodie Landon was. Maybe even better. Michelle
Landon recognized that too, and demanded that Li did something about it,
hiding, of course, behind the same old song of racial inequality. Alas for her,
after having listened to the same speech for several years, Ms. Li had her
feel, and at last she made Michelle Landon eat her words - literally speaking,
of course. She had no intention of being arrested for assault. But Michelle
Landon, however, hadn't bothered her again since that night.
Ms. Li looked
back at the surveillance monitor, and her spirits even higher. "Yes!"
she spoke out loud. "The money-collecting drive begins!"
Chapter 2
It was a
regular afternoon at the Morgendorffer house, with the Morgendorffer women
ready to go for an outing, and the Morgendorffer men reading one sort of
literature or another.
A classic
example of that unfolded now, as Helen walked by her husband and her son.
"Hi! Gotta change, dinner meeting." And she was off.
Jake looked
away form his newspaper. "Did something happen?"
Darren
shrugged and looked away form his book. "Hmm... depends on your
perspective."
"Hi! No
dinner for me! Emergency meeting at the fashion club!" Quinn spoke, as she
walked by to her room.
Darren
sighed. "I'll make up a nice plate for you and cover it up with cling
wrap."
"That
was Quinn?" Jake asked after a pause.
"Yes,
but you still haven't our first mystery guest," Darren said with a slight
smirk.
At that
moment that 'first mystery guest' made a come-back. "Damnit. I just called
Eric for directions and he said the dinner's cancelled. Well that just gives us
a chance for a family dinner."
Darren just
sighed. "I'll throw another steak on the grill."
Outside the
door closed, signifying that Quinn was gone.
"Where's
she going?" Helen frowned.
"Emergency
meeting at the fashion club. Someone woke up with frosted hair," Darren
said absentmindedly.
Helen frowned
in thought. Should she? Well, she didn't have anything to do now that the
dinner was cancelled. Might as well tackle this hurdle. "You know Darren
it wouldn't hurt if you got involved in some after school projects once in a
while."
Darren
hurriedly hid behind his book. "Can't. I'm learning how to read
Swahili?" he finally said.
Helen sighed.
"I'm serious. When you apply to college, they'll be looking for that kind
of thing. Right Jake?"
"Hmm?"
Jake glanced briefly from his newspaper then hid behind it once again.
Darren just
sighed. Didn't mom just get it? "They're going to be looking to see
whether I can pay for school. This might be a good time to talk about setting
up a trust, I suppose."
"Jake!"
Helen spoke in exasperation.
"What?"
"Tell
our son about the importance of extracurricular activities to get into
college."
Jake frowned.
"I don't know Helen. Remember Middleton? These jerks were about money
only! Maybe we can set up a small trust fund to help Darren instead? A small
one, mind you, I don't think we can afford-"
"Jake,
shut up. You're not helping me," Helen hurriedly said, but it was too
late. Darren joined-in onto the conversation.
"Have
you thought about a living will, Dad?" he asked.
"What
makes you think we need one?" Jake's frown deepened.
"Excuse
me," Helen hurriedly said. Once those two started to talk about family
finances, she could just as well get up and leave. "I ask you, Darren, to
just think about it, that's all."
"Fair
enough."
"Because
otherwise we might have to make up for it over the summer. Send you to music
camp."
Darren
sighed. "You wouldn't, and you couldn't, anyways."
"Why
not?" Jake asked, briefly looking away from some financial combination.
"Because
I was kicked out of it, after I stuffed some jerk's bald noggin into a trombone
with my sax."
"Ah, but
you forgetting something!" Helen triumphantly said. "This is a local
camp. They don't know about that incident."
Darren's eyes
widened and he whistled in respect. "You're good. When you put your mind
to it, you're very, very good."
"Sure
she is!" Jake said emphatically as he looked around.
"You're
find something to get involved with. It'll be fun," Helen continued to
drive her point home.
"Hey,"
Jake suddenly noticed that somebody was missing. "Where's Quinn?"
Chapter 3
Mr. O'Neill
was not a happy man. As usual, Angela's latest big score was dying down via
pure student unenthusiasm, only now Jodie Landon seemed to be-
There was a
knock on the door.
"Who is
it?"
"Darren."
"Right!
Daria. What's up?"
"I want
to volunteer to work on the coffee-house."
"Fantastic!
What made you change your mind?"
"Did you
ever had to learn how to play a music instrument by a little old man who looked
like some crooked street hustler?"
"Um,
no... But I once had to recite the Gettysburg address wearing a rainbow wig and
panties that said "Tuesday" - whatever made me want to join a
fraternity. Anyway, that's great! I guess you want to read one of your
essays."
Darren
frowned. "No, I wasn't actually thinking about performing."
"Maybe
that one about being a big misfit whom everybody hates. The other kids will
really relate to that. I know I do."
Darren's
frown deepened. "I don't think that would be a great idea. That's the one
that compares the sophomore class to barnyard animals. It names names."
"Oh
yeah," O'Neill agreed though he didn't get it.
"I'm
really not much of a performer. I'm thinking more along the lines of
fundraising?"
"Oh.
Well, we're selling magazines, CDs, and wrapping paper. Jump in!"
Darren
sighed. So there was no way out of it. "Can I go with my friend
Jane?" he asked helpfully.
"Sure!
She wants to help out?"
"Umm
Hmm," Darren shamelessly lied. "She's a big joiner."
Needless to
say, Jane was nothing like that. "No way baby," she immediately said.
"Come
on," Darren wheedled. "Do it for us."
"Are you
nuts?"
"Then do
it for the opportunity to look inside people's houses and find out what screwed
up tastes they have."
"I'm
bringing a Polaroid," Jane excitedly said and was bagged.
Mr. DeMartino
was in a foul mood. Angela Li was up to her tricks, and this meant that they all
would be dragged into trouble if things went bad. And if they didn't go
bad, well, this was the case of choosing between rotten apples.
DeMartino
sighed and read the latest reports from the teachers' union. They were of
little condolence for him too, since the demands they made wouldn't be easily
carried-out with Angela Li's iron grip.
Suddenly, the
doorbell rang. DeMartino went to open it, but as he did so, he heard voices
from outside.
"Have
you been practising your lines for the coffee-house?
"Awww,
they give me a headache babe."
"Kevin,
please learn them. Or I might give you a headache."
"What do
you mean?"
At that
point, Mr. DeMartino opened the door and almost snarled. "Well, well.
Kevin and Brittany. What a delightful surprise."
"Ah,
hi!" Kevin eagerly said, unaware of the bitter sarcasm in DeMartino's
voice. After all, how could he? Brittany was acting-up again about this damn
Shakespeare fellow, and they still haven't sold any rolls of wrapping paper.
DeMartino
continued, ignoring Kevin's remark. "You've come, no doubt, to apologise
for your academic performance."
"Um,
no!" Kevin firmly said. He and Brittany had not done anything wrong, for
what should they apologise?
Brittany, on
the other hand, always knew that it was better to apologise even if you haven't
done anything wrong - other people were funny about that. "But we are
sorry about like our grades and stuff," she said.
"Well
then, to what do I owe the pleasure?" DeMartino asked, feeling scarcely
mollified.
"We're
raising money for the new Lawndale young adult's coffee house! Would you like
to buy some holiday wrapping paper?" Kevin eagerly said.
"We've
got religious, festive, and/or non-do-minational!" Brittany chirped.
"That's
non-dominational babe."
"Yeah!
Non-dominational!"
Mr. DeMartino
stared at the Punch-and-Judy of Lawndale High in muteness for a few seconds,
then spoke-up. "What an attractive offer. Too bad the holidays aren't for
months!"
Kevin wasn't
easily deterred. He was the QB, after all. "How about a magazine
subscription?"
Brittany
joined in. "Would you like to join a CD or Cassette club? 20 albums for a
penny, and no obligation to buy, ever!"
"How
would you like to receive regular blooming flower seeds every month?"
Mr. DeMartino
decided to interrupt before they totally swamped him with their enthusiasm. He
had heard enough, at any rate. "It's good to see you both enterprising! I
could make a trite observation about wishing you were so enterprising toward
your school work, as you are to in this effort to find financing for a new
place to loot, but am I the sort of man, who engages in trite observations,
Brittany?"
Brittany
paused. DeMartino was looking kind of angry, so she decided to disagree. After
all, it seemed like he was doing that irony thing. "Umm... No?"
"Good,
Brittany, now, while you're on the roll, am I the sort of man who you suppose
believes in under riding the indolence of students who already display the work
habits of garden slugs?"
Brittany
paused. She wasn't sure, but the mention of slugs made her feel gross.
"Uh... I'll take no again?"
"Very
good Brittany. Now Kevin, given what we have learned from Brittany's razor
sharp observations, Kevin is there anything more you would like to say before
leaving my front doorstep in an uncomfortable hurry!"
Kevin
scratched his head. Unlike Brittany, he had no interested in thinking this
through. "Umm, do you want to buy a chocolate bar?" he finally said.
With a great
roar of disgust DeMartino swung his door shut, leaving the two teens outside
rather confused. "Boy, Mr. D forgot to buy any of our stuff!" Kevin
said, confused. "Let's remind him." He reached to ring the doorbell
again.
Brittany
shook her head. "No - Kevvy - wait. Let's try all those other people
first, okay?"
"I don't
know babe," Kevin reluctantly said. "Maybe we should give Mr. D
another chance."
"Well,
all right. Maybe he'll be more receptive to some Shakespeare."
"Uh,
babe," Kevin began to hurriedly move towards the next door. "Let's
try these other people first, okay?"
Shrugging,
Brittany followed her boyfriend.
While Kevin
and Brittany were knocking on doors at DeMartino's neighbourhood, Quinn wasn't
wasting any time either, as she knocked onto yet another door. "Hi! I'm
selling long distance phone cards," she said cheerfully to the young boy
that opened the door.
"I just
use a credit card," the boy - Danny - said, feeling confused.
Quinn's face
fell. "Oh. Well, are you really happy with the service?"
Now it was Danny's
turn to become confused. "Um, it's fine."
Quinn shook
her head. "I mean, are you really happy?"
"I don't
get you. Why shouldn't I be?"
Quinn
carefully looked at the boy. Apparently, he was just a tad slow-witted. Good.
After living side-by-side with her brother for so many years, she could really
jerk the strings of a guy like this one. "I mean like, are you ever like
really looking forward to talking to someone and you can't hear them because of
crackling and static?" she began her campaign.
"Not..."
"I mean,
I know that if I were your friend, I'd want to listen to you, not some static.
I mean, you have a really nice voice. Your friend should be able to hear
it," Quinn continued.
Danny shook
his head. Was the new girl hitting on him? "Thank you," he spoke just
in case.
"Just
pretend you're calling me," Quinn suggested.
"What?"
"Really,
just try it. My name's Quinn. What's your name?" Quinn elaborated.
"Danny,"
the boy mechanically said.
Good. He's
almost in the right mental condition. "So, call me Danny."
"Hello?
Uh, Quinn?"
"Danny?
Is that you?"
"Hi!
Quinn?"
"Speak
up Danny, I can't hear you."
"Hi!
Quinn? It's me, Danny."
And now... "I've been
thinking about you all day. The way your hair falls over your eyes when you
laugh. I can't get it out of my head."
"Really?"
Yeah,
sucker.
"You got to speak up Danny. Listen, do you want to come over tonight? My
folks went away for the whole weekend."
"Yeah!"
yelled Danny, all a-flame. "I mean, sure Quinn."
"Oh,
that's okay Danny, I understand. I'll see if Pete wants to come over."
"But I
said..."
"Bye!"
"Wait!"
"Click.
See what can happen with bad long distance service Danny?"
"Who's
Pete?"
Oops.
Overdid it a bit. Memo to self: tune down the skills a bit, Quinn mentally told
herself, and prepared to make yet another spectacular sale.
While Quinn
was doing that, her brother and Jane were prepared to do some selling of their
own. "Um, hi. I'm selling chocolate bars for the new student
coffee-house," Darren spoke, curiously looking at the huge woman before
him and Jane
"The new
coffee-house?" the giant woman rumbled.
Jane nodded.
"Our cybercafe got trashed."
Mrs. Johanson
couldn't care less about the cybercafe and the coffee-house, but she had her
own agenda. "Well, I enjoy chocolate. Doctor says I'm not supposed to have
too much of it, but he wouldn't mind if it's for a good cause. Just a second
girls."
Darren
frowned. The woman didn't look too good. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah,
just, I was in the basement when the doorbell rang. Need to catch my breath a
little. How many chocolate bars you got there?"
"We've
got about 2 boxes. That's 24."
"Tell
you what, I'll take all of them."
Jane's eyes
lit up. "All of them, really?"
Darren was
nowhere as enthusiastic. "You sure that's okay with your doctor?"
Mrs. Johanson
nodded. "As long as he don't know about it! Now where's that purse..."
She suddenly coughed, and fell in a dead faint to the ground.
Darren
sighed. "Well, that certainly slammed a lid on our sail," he sadly
said.
Jane frowned.
"Don't you know CPR or anything?"
Daria - Nah,
I once gave the Heimlich Manoeuvre to Quinn."
"Did it
work?"
"She
wasn't choking. Anyways, let's get out of here before the authorities
arrive."
"Why?
You afraid of them?"
Darren
shrugged. "What can I say? After having a few roadside accidents with my
dad and one of my aunts, I don't like being in trouble, you savvy?"
"You've
been in roadside accidents? Cool!" Jane said. "So was I..."
"Great,
let's get out of here, and then we'll talk."
But at that
moment Mrs. Johanson got back on her feet. "Damn hypoglycaemia. I'm sorry,
girls, I'm holding up the works. Okay now. How much each are these chocolate
bars?" she said, as if nothing has happened.
Darren's eyes
narrowed. "Ma'am, I'm not sure I can sell you any chocolate bars."
Instantly,
Mrs. Johanson exploded in an eruption worthy of a cannon valley. "What's
the matter, my money's not good enough for you?"
Darren
reluctantly shook his head. "It's not that, it's just... maybe it's not
such a good idea."
"Give me
those chocolate bars!" Mrs. Johanson roared.
"Excuse
me," Jane quickly said, and dragged Darren by his ear away from Mrs.
Johanson. Then, when they were sufficiently far away, she turned onto Darren
with full force. "What's the matter with you, we could make a
fortune!"
Darren looked
sympathetically at the girl. "Jane, Jane, Jane. I don't want to sound so
condescending, but did you ever read fairy tales?"
"Hah?"
"You
know, about the greedy wolf?"
"Hah? Darren, stop acting so snobbish, and go and sell those
chocolates."
"And
then that woman drops dead, and her relatives come crawling out of cracks like
a clan of roach thralls in that d20 Modern Role-playing game, and sue us down
to the last sewn-on patches on our pants!"
"What
relatives? She has no relatives!"
"The
only thing, Jane, that has no relatives, is the legendary homunculus, that was
brought forth by the warm rays of the sun from the fluvial muck and silt."
There was a
pause, which ended when Jane finally shook her head. "You know, I know now
why I hang around you so much. You really provide great ideas for my
paintings." She paused, and added, sadly. "But we could really use
that money."
Darren
nodded. "Good decision, Jane. After hanging around with mom I really
know that you can get sued down to your last pair of pants. Now let's go, I
know how we can get some of that money replaced."
Jane
shrugged, and they left, ignoring the curses of Mrs. Johanson that came from
behind.
Timothy
O'Neill was sitting in his house, doing... pretty much nothing, when there was a
knock on the door. He opened it, and saw a pair of students outside. "Hey,
Mr. O'Neill," the girl student said.
"Hi,"
O'Neill said, feeling confused and mystified. "It's Jean, right?"
The girl
paused, then shook her head. "Can you help our school and us? We need to
fix a small matter of smart money."
O'Neill
blankly stared. When it came to matters financial, O'Neill was, frankly, a
loser, and always asked either Angela Li or Diane Bennett for aid. And,
naturally, neither of them was around. "How can I help you?" he
finally said, pulling-out his wallet.
"Well,
you can buy this box."
"For how
much?"
"Two
hundred and forty dollars, please," the boy spoke for the first time.
"A bit
expensive."
"Hey,
you don't like it go and talk with our principal! She is the one establishing
he prices!" the girl snapped.
Signing,
O'Neill pulled out the according number of bills from his wallet.
"Here," he said with a sign. "I hope that the principal will be
happy," and he closed the door.
Walking some
distance away Jane turned towards Darren. "Two hundred and forty
dollars? We needed a rather lesser sum!"
"Hey, if
that is the case, want to go back and ransom the chocolates from him? We can
have a rather lesser sum easy by doing door to door routine!"
"Not
that, it's just that what are we going to do with the excess?"
"Each of
us now has a twenty, and the remainder of the excess goes back to the school's
treasury, or whatever Li's got."
"Hah?
Why?"
"Ever
heard the story of the man that didn't got to the moon? An officer summoned a
soldier, and told him that he was to scout an alien colony on the moon. The
army was willing to pay anything for his heroism. The man asked for three
million dollars - one million for himself, the other for the officer who had
summoned him, and the third for whoever will fly in my stead..."
"And now
the straightforward version, please..."
Darren
sighed, and began to explain to Jane the nuts and bolts of their high school
economy...
Meanwhile,
Mr. O'Neill was having financial troubles of his own. "Now what am I going
to do with all this chocolate," he muttered, almost crossly. Suddenly he
brightened. "Of course!" he quickly dialed a number on the phone and
waited.
"Yes?"
rumbled a voice on the other end.
"Did
you, uh, put a notice in the newspaper about wanting to buy any chocolate
anyone had?"
"Yes,
so?"
"Can I
come over? I have excess chocolate that I'd like to sell."
"Good,
I'll be waiting for you," spoke Mrs. Johanson, and hanged the phone.
Chapter 4
The next day
Darren and Jane were summoned to the principal's office. Only this time,
instead of a nervous-looking Mr. O'Neill, there was Mr. DeMartino, looking like
he was about to blow at any time.
And Ms. Li
was there too, of course. "Well," she began, "you two were a
pair of those who'd been selling chocolate, correct?"
"Yeah,
so?"
"So,"
exploded suddenly Mr. DeMartino, "two of your number managed to swindle
that simpleton O'Neill out of two hundred dollars or more!"
"How'd
you know that?"
"Mr.
O'Neill managed to re-sell those chocolates to a certain person-"
DeMartino began, but this time Ms. Li cut him off.
"That is
irrelevant. The point is, despite your excellent performance at the school
assembly in September, you two are still under suspicion, and I expect you to
act accordingly. Understood, now get out!"
Darren and
Jane hurriedly left.
Once they
were gone, DeMartino turned onto Ms. Li. "Just what you were doing,
Angela? Those two are guilty, I have no doubt."
Ms. Li rolled
her eyes. "Just because the boy is driving you nuts with those
role-playing game comments of his, doesn't make him evil. Besides, O'Neill was
barely coherent, and his 'client' is currently hospitalized..."
"Don't
point that silver lining to me, Angela," DeMartino rasped.
"Especially since I have to point-out to you that that's bad
publicity. First our cybercafe gets robbed, now one of our teachers gets
involved in that mess."
"And
that makes the union look bad, I see," Ms. Li mused. "They won't be
happy with you, right?"
DeMartino's
eyes narrowed. "What are you implying, Li?"
"Judging
from the ways your eyes are bulging, you know that better than me," Ms. Li
told sternly. "Anthony, you know that what O'Neill did was an accident!
Stop trying to make this into a career move for yourself! You won't make it!
Now I suggest you come to your senses... when you begin to manage the opening of
our coffee-house... tonight."
DeMartino's
face visibly darkened. "This isn't over, Li," he uttered - before he
left.
When Jodie
and her boyfriend Mack got called into Mr. DeMartino's office, they didn't
expect anything good to happen.
They were
right. DeMartino snapped at them, and told them that they were to perform at
the coffee-house tonight, and then he sent them out.
"Well,
that was unexpected," Jodie muttered.
"Yeah,
well, who knew that the mere suggestion that Darren has been selling chocolates
with Jane was enough for him to run-off to Ms. Li. I mean, I know that Darren's
comparisons to various role-playing games are infuriating, but that much-"
Mack said.
"Please.
I think that he's a bit afraid of the jocks," Jodie shook her head.
"That, or of Mr. DeMartino proper. You should've seen some of the stunts
that he pulled off O'Neill. It's like Kevin and DeMartino, only less, well,..
it's different!"
"Speaking
of stunts and differences, what are we going to do this evening?" Mack
said.
"Well,
at least my parents will be happy that I'm in the public eye once again,"
Jodie muttered as they walked-on, talking to each other.
Neither of
them noticed a girl dressed in Goth-style clothing, looking thoughtfully at
them.
Chapter 5
The
coffee-house was packed, as various students chose to appear there - of their
own will, or forced by Ms. Li's decision to forget their former
"transgressions" in exchange for a stunt in the show. Basically, the
acts went slow, though an act of a guitar player who smashed his guitar on
stage was well-received.
Jodie watched
nervously, as that guy walked on stage, and Brittany with Kevin took it.
"Relax,"
Mack whispered to her. "You'll be fine. DeMartino knows that that isn't your
actual writing, and frankly, he doesn't care less. Now take deep breaths-"
On stage,
Brittany was chanting. "Oh Romeo, Romeo! Where for art thou Romeo?"
"I'm
right here babes!" Kevin cheerfully replied.
"Deny
thy father and refuse thy name! Or thou will not be sworn my love and I will no
longer be a Capulet!"
"Hey!
Yo! I'm down here! Check it out!"
That was the
final straw. "Check it out? You promised to learn your lines, you clown!
And what's that skull for?" Brittany exploded.
Kevin paused.
All that he could think of to say was... "The skull's cool?"
That did it.
Brittany erupted, and literally chased Kevin off the stage, turning Shakespeare
into a "Punch and Judy" show.
That
alleviated Jodie's mood somewhat, and even the subsequent appearance of a Goth
girl, with her poem - "...Anybody home in that rotting bag of flesh?"
didn't ruin her improved mood.
"See,
you don't want to do poetry for this crowd," Mack told his girlfriend.
"Besides, I think it's too late for you to learn juggling."
Jodie smiled
a bit. "Thanks, Mack. Maybe this will go smoothly." And she went onto
the stage.
"Hey,"
she confidently said, ignoring the continuous fighting of Kevin and Brittany
behind the stage. "Tonight I'd like to read you a story entitled,
"Where The Future Takes Us."
"As
students standing at the dawn of a brand new century, we face certain choices,
how do we prepare for the future? Melody Powers knew how she was going to
prepare, as she checked the fit on her tooled leather shoulder holster. She
thought about all the communists she would be taking out tonight. Melody harboured
no illusions about unilaterally stemming the resurging red tide, but she
reflected with a grim smile, what special agent could resist the opportunity to
fill a few Bolshevik cemeteries'. As Melody sun-bathed on the Rio beach she
looked back over the last few days with a certain quiet satisfaction, twelve
dead Russians, five dead Chinese, and three of four dead Cubans. The world was
once again safe for democracy she reflected, while watching Tonio's exquisite
chest rise and fall with his light snoring. Safe for democracy, or almost safe.
Melody brushed some errant grains of sand from her fingers, tied her top back
on and reached into her beach bag, Tonio heard nothing and that was a pity,
because he would never hear anything again. So long Tonio, she thought as she
calmly stood up. I could have loved you if you weren't as red as the blood
stain now spreading across the sand. Melody walked calmly away to the hotel,
there would be a message there from HQ no doubt. She hoped she had time to
shower."
The next
moment, audience erupted in yells and cheers.
Suddenly,
Kevin jumped forwards onto the stage and yelled. "Brothers! Sisters!
Fellow Americans! Let's go outside and crush those anti-American
bastards!"
"Yay!"
The next
moment most of the audience burst outside, yelling vaguely anti-communistic
slogans outside, leaving Jodie staring with wide-open eyes.
Nobody saw
the Gothic girl slip away in all the commotion and join the general jockish
crowd.
Chapter 5
It was a new
morning in Lawndale, and most of the town was relatively the same, but some
parts of it had been altered. Darren John Morgendorffer was walking down the
street, when he was joined by Jane Lane.
"So
where were you when it all happened?" Jane muttered. "Got scared and
ran away?"
"Now how
could I compare to you," Darren rolled his eyes. "I merely went and
informed the authorities that there was some sort of a riot in the streets,
nothing more."
"You
know," Jane frowned, "some may think that you're a fink, especially
all those that were actually arrested."
Darren's own
eyes narrowed. "You know, that happened once in Germany. 'You know, Hans,
Adolph and his boys are planning some sort of a putsch, maybe we should inform
the district police officer.' - 'Shut up Martha, for I will not be labeled as
the neighborhood's snitch. Let those boys have their fun.' And the next thing
you know - Adolph is Germany's new overlord, and the world is having its' round
two of the war."
Jane paused.
"What is your problem, anyways? This damn history topic tends to come-up
every once in a while, almost as often as the role-playing game
references."
Darren
paused. "My grandpa had hailed from that land because of that
reason."
Jane paused.
"Oh."
"Yup. If
you think I'm back, you should've met him. Now he was
always ready to talk about the big move. It drove all of us nuts, me included.
But, well, you can't erase the past, especially of your own family's."
Jane was also
silent. Suddenly she semi-brightened. "Well, I always wanted to have a
boyfriend with some sort of a past, and I got a beaut!"
"Yeah,
well if that ogre DeMartino assigns some sort of a history project, do not
expect my family tree to rescue us. Believe me, otherwise my dad will drive us
crazy and deaf."
"Yeowch!"
"Anyways,
history and family traumas aside, the cops interference was timely."
"Yeah, I
wonder what swine had directed the damn crowd against the Landons," Jane
sighed. "And Kevin is sort-of Jodie's friend!"
"Kevin,
first and foremost, is a QB. That means, his head is cubic. That means, his
brain doesn't work properly. That means-"
"Hey,
we've arrived," Jane said. "It's off to the lockers and class."
When Darren
came to his locker, Mack was already there. Darren inwardly groaned.
"Look," he said plaintively. "I don't care what Jodie or her
family thinks, I'm not the Prince of Darkness in the flesh, and I didn't
participate in that egging last night."
"I know
you didn't," Mack sighed. "And let's not forget that it was Jodie who
started that riot. Well, that, and that story of hers that she found on the
Internet. I wonder who was the cretin who wrote it in the first place."
"Eh..."
"Never
mind. Look, I just wanted to say thanks."
"For
what?"
"For
calling the cops."
Darren's face
froze. "How'd you know?"
"I, eh,
saw you talking on that payphone. Thanks."
"How'd
you saw that?"
Mack
shrugged. "Eh, I was a Boy Scout once, you learn and remember odd bits and
ends from that period. Why, you girlfriend Jane-"
The bell
rang, signifying the beginning of the next class. "You go on, I'll catch
up with you," Darren said.
But as soon
as Mack went-off, Darren pulled-out a very small cell phone, and dialed a
number.
"Hello
Marcus," he said. "I've got for you another job."
Epilogue
That night in
Lawndale was again dark and damp - and quiet, very quiet. It brought a feeling
of déjà vu all over Lawndale, and so it was no surprise, when a particular
alarm began to sound. Needless to say, this time the cops arrived pretty
quickly... only to see one very pillaged coffee-house stare back at them. This
time, the damage was mainly vandalism, will very little actually stolen.
Needless to
say, Ms. Li was called again. This time she was more exasperated than furious,
and clearly uninterested in "her" coffee-house anymore. And since
cops of Lawndale weren't exactly the bright-eyed eagles of justice, they
readily wrote-off the case as "currently unsolved", and put it into
the folder - where it gathers dust till this very day.
End.