|03-23-2005, 11:35 AM||#1|
Join Date: Feb 2005
Local Time: 10:09 PM
Miracle Drug Parts 1-5
Ok, I'm new here, and this is something I wrote, well, started a long time ago. I just recently came across it and thought i would pick it up again. These are the first 5 parts; I thought I'd post them together, rather than seperately. Anyway, it's just something that kind of popped in my head. i think from an article I read a while back about some lunch cart or something by the bands studios.__________________
Also, I have absolutely no knowledge or Ireland or Dublin, but I'll try to keep this as accurate as I know how.
I'll post more if anyone wants me to. Perhaps someone wouldn't mind being a beta for this thing? Enjoy.
I trudge along with the rest of my high school peers. Last bell. Time to go home. It’s raining outside. Shrieks go up and people start running to their rides, or somewhere dry. I keep walking. It’s a long way home. I shift my backpack to my other shoulder. It’s heavy. Too heavy. I thought that American high schools gave out a lot of homework. But this – this set a whole new precedent.
I find myself blurting out once more, why did we move to Dublin? Of all the places we could go, in the whole world, my mom had to choose Ireland. I mean, yeah, she was born and raised here and I was born here, but leave America for Ireland? And it feels strange. Being Irish and growing up American. I don’t feel very Irish. I don’t think I’m very much like the other kids in school. Nothing like them.
They know it too. They don’t like me, and I don’t care for them much either. I sound funny to them. Whatever. They sound pretty funny to me. And I don’t know what all their slang means, and they don’t know what mine means. We all speak the same language, but just can’t seem to get along. Worlds apart.
My stomach growls reminding me that I had forgotten lunch today. It’s tempting to stop somewhere and get a bite of something. I turn down a street. It’d mean going a little out the way, but not a big deal. I scan the shops that line the streets. A deli, a pub, a boutique. A deli might be good. I stop outside and look at the menu. Too expensive. I keep going. I only had a few Euro to spend. I keep walking down streets, turning down streets, until I realize I’m pretty much lost.
I’m about to turn around and attempt to track back when I spot a lunch cart. A lunch cart. That was perfect. Cheap and perfect. As I get closer I note that it’s a hamburger stand, rather. Even better. American food. As I approach the stand, I notice the girl working there looks bored. She’s staring off into the distance. I follow her gaze to a small crowd of people gathered outside a nearby building. I clear my throat.
She snaps to attention, “Oh, sorry. I, uh, didn’t see you there. What can I getcha?” I check the menu for prices. “Just a hamburger, please.” She winks, “Coming right up.” She turns from me and says something in another language to the man behind her. Then she looks back at me and smiles, “Visiting, are ya?” I lean forward to hear over the rain pounding on the metal roof, “Oh. Um, no, I just moved here actually.” She looks surprised, “Oh, my apologies then, I’m just so used to people here to see U2.” Ah, so this must be where U2’s studio is then. I say, “So, that’s what the crowd over there is about.” She nods, “Aye. There’s almost always a group of them.”
I try to make conversation, “So, have you, uh, ever seen the band then?” She beams, “They’ve ordered burgers a time or two. I was so nervous.” I smile, though I didn’t really understand. I didn’t like U2. They’d never caught my interest. I could only hope to survive living in the Mecca of U2.
The cook hands her a burger all wrapped up. She takes it; “Here ya go.” I thank her and pay quickly. She says, “Well, have a good day then.” I nod, “You two.” I groan. You two.
I try to walk fast, while I look for somewhere to stop and eat. The wind off of the water is cold, and mixed with the rain, it’s pretty miserable. I spot a small park by the water. I huddle on a bench beneath a tree and unwrap my burger. It’s still warm. I’m about to take a very un-lady-like bite when a loud voice cuts through, “Hey, that’s my spot.”
I look up and see a man ambling towards me. I sigh. What is his problem? This was a public park. He comes to a halt in front of me. His arms are crossed; a scowl set firmly on his face, his foot tapping anxiously. He was soaked from stalking through the rain, and he looked very unhappy. Oh I hated confrontations. Especially with men. Think they know everything.
I stare at him. Finally he speaks, “Well?” I shrug, “What? What do you want? I was here first.” He smirks. It’s my accent. I know it’s the accent. I’ve seen that look a lot at school. It’s like it’s amusing that I’m not from here. He says, “I come here everyday, and sit on this bench everyday.” I study him. He still looked pissed, but almost like he’s pretending to be. I think a minute then say, “Well, today, I’m sitting here. Find another bench.” He shakes his head, “No, I don’t think you understand. There is no other bench, that is under another tree like this tree.” I roll my eyes, what’s the tree got anything to do with it?
I say, “Surely, you have someplace else to go. It’s raining outside anyway, who wants to sit on a bench in the rain?” He points out, “You are. It helps me think. The rain especially.” I say, “Then go stand in it.” I take a bite out of my burger. Cold now. He eyes me while I chew. “Do you know who I am?” I almost choke. Who did this guy think he was? I swallow, “ Some Irish guy… I don’t know.” He looks away annoyed. Was he one of my teachers? I thought for a minute. Nope. Not a teacher.
I study him for a minute. He looks 40 or so. He’s probably only a few inches taller than I am. He has longish brown hair that is soaking wet. His face is handsome. Blue eyes, interesting nose, and nice lips. He’s wearing some pretty good-looking clothes too. Expensive looking clothes.
He’s reaching in his coat for something. I panic inside. Oh great, Leah, look what you’ve done. Now he’s gonna shoot you. For a bench. You’re going to die over a bench. I relax when he pulls out a wallet. “Ok, we’ll do this the hard way. How much?” I stare at him; “You’re going to pay me for the bench?” He looks serious, “Yes, how much?” I shake my head; “It’s a public bench.” He sighs impatiently; “I know that. Name your price, come on.” I laugh. “I’m not taking your money.” He sighs, and puts away his wallet. “Fine. Scoot over.”
I frown, “What?” He repeats himself, “Make room. We’ll share.” I shrug. It was a public bench. I move down to the end. He sits down and stares ahead. This was weird. “Aren’t you going to eat that?” I look at him, “Huh?” He motions to the burger in my hand. “Oh. Well, I was…It’s cold now, though.” He cocks his head to the side, “So, you’re just not going to eat it?” I say, bored now, “I don’t like them cold.” He shrugs, “Ok.”
The next thing I know he takes my hamburger and happily takes a bite. I stare at him, shocked, “Hey!” I protest. He says with his mouth full, “Well, you weren’t going to eat it.” I frown, brushing the crumbs he’s sprayed all over me, off; “Yeah, but I was… I was going to give it to my dog.” He swallows, “Do you have a dog?” I sigh and look away, “No.” He doesn’t say anything.
I notice it’s stopped raining. It’s beginning to get dark. Great. It’s dark, and I’m lost. “So, what’s your name?” Why did he care? “Leah. What’s yours?” “That’s a nice name. I’m not telling you mine, though.” I give him a dirty look. He shrugs innocently; “You should already know it.” “How the hell would I already know your name? I’ve never even seen you before.”
He crumbles up the hamburger wrapper, “Yes, you have.” I shake my head. “Whatever.” He wipes his mouth on his sleeve. On his expensive sleeve. “Tell you what. If you don’t figure out who I am, and what my name is by the next time I see you, then I’ll tell you.”
“What makes you think I’m ever going to see you again?” He stands up, “You will.” He says simply.
“Sure...” I think a minute, “Hey, do you know how to get to Lockwood Road from here? I kinda got myself lost.” He turns to me, looking at me curiously for a moment. “Yeah, come on, I’ll walk you there.” I stand up, “No, it’s a long way. Just tell me.” He grins, “Nope, I’ll walk with you.” I protest, “But it’s dark. Do you even know your way?” He picks up my backpack, “I grew up here, I know the way. And we’ll walk. Come on.” He starts walking. I stand at the bench staring after him.
I couldn’t go all the way home with this guy. A complete stranger. I can just stop in a shop and get directions. I see my backpack dangling from his arm. He’s still walking. I sigh. Or I can just follow this guy home. I start jogging to catch up with him. He never looks back.
My shoes squeak from the rainwater that’s collected in them. I notice he has on leather boots. No water in those. People stare as we pass them. I feel like flipping them off. So, what we looked like drowned rats. Get a life. He hasn’t said a word since we left the park. Desperate for something to break the silence I ask, “So, you’re really not going to tell your name?” He doesn’t look at me, but I can make out a smile. “Nope.” “What should I call you then?” He shrugs, “Whatever you want, I suppose.” I roll my eyes. So immature.
He asks, “So, how long have you lived here?”
“A couple months now.”
“Do you like it?”
I shrug, “I feel like I should. I was born here. But, no, I don’t really like it.”
He looks over, “You’re Irish then? What's with the accent?”
“Yeah, I'm Irish. I just grew up in America, that's all. My mom was born here, too. My dad, too, as far as I know.”
“What, he never told you?”
“Not exactly. I’ve never actually met my dad. I just assume he’s from here. My mom doesn’t talk about him much. Actually she doesn’t talk about him ever.”
He doesn’t say anything. Then, “You know, I grew up not far from where you live now.” I think. My neighborhood was pretty poor. Obviously he’d made something for himself if he was wearing nice clothes now. I say, “Really?” He nods, “Yep. That’s how I know where you live.” I say, “My mom used to live around there too, she said. Just a few streets down, she said.” He smiles at me. “I probably knew your mom at one time then.” Now he was BSing me. “Yeah, I’m sure…” I say sarcastically.
“No, I’m serious. How old is your mom now? What’s her name?” I tell him, “She’s uh, let’s see… 42, now. Rebecca Holms, that’s her name.” He doesn’t say anything. I look over and see he’s stopped behind me. I turn around and go back, “Hey. Come on. I was supposed to be home hours ago.” He’s looking at me funny. He coughs, “Uh, yeah. Sorry. I had something in my shoe.”
We start walking again. “So, do you know her?” I ask. “What? Oh, um, I don’t know. Maybe.” I figured. I look around. I had no idea where we were. Or if we were even going the right way. What if this guy was a total fraud, and was just leading me farther away? I say uneasily, “Hey, look, thanks for taking me this far. I can probably get back now if you tell me the way.”
“I don’t mind walking you. Besides, it’s dark now. There can be a lot of weirdos around, you know?” I sigh. I did know. I just hope you’re not one of them. He goes on, “It’s not too much further, we took a short-cut.” I say quietly, “Short-cut, gotcha.” He says then, “Oh, I almost forgot.” He hands me a few Euro, “For the burger.” I take it slowly, “Thanks. You don’t have-“ He interrupts, “I want to. Keep it.” I count the bills, “But this is too much. Way too much.” He shrugs, “That’s ok.” I take his hand and push the money in it, “No, I don’t want it.”
He takes it and sticks it in my backpack zipper, “Then tell you what. Meet me at the hamburger stand again tomorrow and you can pay.” I shake my head, “What? No… I have school…” He shrugs, “After school then. Come on.” I look at him, “Why?” He grins, “Why not. You’re interesting to be around. Come on, I don’t mean anything creepy or weird. Just a burger. We can talk some more.” I protest, “But we’re talking now.” He asks, “Do you have anything better to do? Do you have to feed that dog of yours?” He’s teasing me now. I sigh. “All right. Fine. I’ll meet you there. Just, I can’t stay that long.” He smiles, “It’s settled then.”
“Yeah, it’s settled.” He stops. “Here we are. Your street.” I shift my weight, “So, now you’re just gonna walk all the way back. All that way. In the dark.” He looks behind him, and then back at me, “Yeah. That’s what I’m gonna do.” I shake my head, “You’re nuts.” I sigh, “Look, why don’t you come inside and call a cab. Or something.” He grins and pulls out cell phone. “Don’t need to, love.” I try again, “Ok, well, you could come inside and wait for the cab. People will think you’re some weirdo if you just stand on the street corner.”
He cocks his head at me, “So you want me inside, huh?” I get frustrated. I look at my house, “No. It’s just. Ugh, whatever. Stay out here. I don’t care.” I grab my backpack and stalk toward my house. I’m almost there when I hear footsteps behind me, and his laughter, “Hey, wait up!” I stop at the door. He stands on the front step and grins, “I’ll come in.”
I roll my eyes and unlock the door. “Mom?” I call out. “I’m home!” No answer. I turn some lights on, and fling my backpack on the floor. “Mom?” I call again. I walk into the living room, my wet shoes squish in the carpet. I curse. I put a hand on the wall, and take off my shoes throwing them by the door. The guy (damn what was his name?) moves aside, the shoes just missing him.
I sigh. I don’t know where she is. “I guess she left then.” I forgot he was here. Damn, Mom, you were supposed to be here when I invite a man that I didn’t know into the house. Everything was going my way today, of course. “Hang on, let me check the back.” Bathroom, no. Bedroom, no. Other bedroom, no. Kitchen, no. Laundry room, no. “Hey, Leah, did you see this?” I walk out to the living room where he’s standing holding a piece of paper. I grab it from him and read it.
I’m going out with some girls from work tonight. There’s money and a coupon for pizza on the counter. Don’t wait up for me.
Why didn’t she mention this to me this morning before I went to school. Great. Thanks, Mom. You’re a lot of help. I drop the note. “So, pizza, huh?” He grins at me. I sigh, “Oh… um, do you want to stay for pizza?” “Nah, thanks, I just had a burger.” I give him a dirty look. He says, “But you know, it was cold. Warm pizza would be nice.” I don’t want him to stay for pizza. I want him to leave. I want him to forget all about me. Kick him out, Leah, tell him to leave. But he walked me home. He did do that. And he put almost 30 Euro in your backpack. I sigh and go to the phone, “What kind do you like?”
After I order the pizza I notice he’s still wet. I’m still wet. I didn’t have any clothes for him to change into. I tell him I’ll be right back. I go to my room and change into dry clothes. Then I rummage around in my mom’s closet and find an oversized bathrobe. It was leftover from a Halloween costume or something. I take it to where he’s dripping on the carpet. “Here.” I hand it to him. He raises his eyebrows questionably. “If you give me your clothes, I’ll put them in the dryer, so you can leave in dry clothes.”
“I don’t get that often.” I’m confused, “What?” He smirks, “Women wanting me out of my clothes, so that I can leave.” I roll my eyes, “You’re full of yourself. The bathroom is the last door at the end of the hallway.” He leaves. I sit on the couch. I’m panicking. I’m in way over your head. I’ve never been around men before. Not men in bathrobes anyway. I bite my lip. If he tries anything I’ll kick him or something. Yeah. And the pizza guy’s coming. That makes me feel somewhat better.
He comes into the living room, holding a pile of clothes. I get up and take them from him. He follows me into the laundry room where I toss them in the dryer. “There, they shouldn’t take too long.” I try not to look directly at him, but he’s standing in the way of the door. When I do look at him, I see he’s taking great pleasure watching me look embarrassed. He says laughing, “Don’t be nervous. I’m not going to try anything. Trust me. I have a daughter about your age. I have a beautiful wife, and three other kids. I’m not going to try anything.”
I stare at him. He looks serious. His eyes are serious. I smile slowly, “Ok.” The phone rings. He steps out of the way, and I sprint to get it, “Hello? Hey, Mom. Yeah, I got your note. Nothing much. No, it’s not raining here right now.” It’s hard to hear her over the background noise of wherever she is. I feel weird. I should tell her he’s here. She says she has to go. “Ok, um, when are you going to be home? Ok, bye.” I hang up and make a face.
“Why the sour look?” I sigh, “I don’t know. She’s not coming home until after one. She’s… I guess, she’s adjusted so much better than I have. She made new friends like that. The kids at school still hate me.” He frowns, “I’m sure it’s not that bad.” I nod, “Oh yes, it is. They call me names. They say I don’t belong here; that I should go back to America. The never listen long enough to find out I was born here.” I walk over to the couch and flop down. “ I hate it here. I miss my old friends.”
He comes over and sits next to me, “Give it some time. I’m sure it’ll grow on you. Dublin is like that.” “Maybe. It’s just… I was so happy in America. I loved my school. And my town. It was cool, and so much fun. Those people were my friends.”
He says quietly, “You’ll make friends.” I glare, “What makes you so sure?” He smiles, “Well, you found me didn’t you?” I shrug. The doorbell rings, I stand up and go pay for and get the pizza. I bring it back into the living room and set it on the coffee table. “Hang on, I’ll get some plates and stuff. What do you want to drink?” He raises an eyebrow, “I’m guessing you don’t have any Guinness?” I make a face and shake my head, no. “How about some Ginger Ale?” He winks, “Fine.” I leave and come back. I give him a drink, plate and napkin. We dig in. He says through a mouthful, “This is good.” I nod happily, “Speedy Pete’s Pizza.”
It’s not long before one slice remains. I lean back, “I’m stuffed.” He eyes the last piece of pizza. I laugh, “Go ahead. It’s not as good the second day.” He helps himself.
“So, what does your mom do?” I shrug, “Some management job. She doesn’t really talk about it. That’s why we moved. She got transferred here. She found this house on the Internet. It looked really nice in the picture.” He laughs, “But not so nice when you actually see it, huh?” I shake my head, “Nope… She’s looking for a new place. She’s just busy I guess. I told her this place was too cheap to be as nice as it looked. She’s so naïve sometimes.”
“Well, I hope you find a new place, then.” I nod, “Me too.” I hear the dryer buzz, “That’ll be your clothes.” I get up to go get them. He grabs my wrist, “Don’t worry about it. I don’t need them right this second. Besides, I ate so much of that pizza, I don’t think I’ll fit back into them.” I laugh and sit back down.
I lean forward and pick up today’s paper. The headline screams something about U2. I sigh and point to the words, “It seems like U2 is in here everyday. Or if it’s not in the paper, it’s that song on the radio.” He laughs, “I think they’re fixing to release an album that’s why.” I nod, “Yeah… I don’t know. I’ve never liked U2, so I never pay attention, but they’re shoved in your face so much here it’s hard not to. That Vertigo song is catchy, though.” He nods, “It is catchy.” I sigh, “Maybe, I’ll buy the new album, give ‘em a try. Do you know when it comes out?” “Ehm, November 24th or something like that.” I make a face, “That far away? It’s just October.”
He grins, “You know, I actually know U2. I bet I could getcha a copy of that new album before it comes out.” I look at him, “You know them? Really? Do you think they’d actually give you a copy?” He nods, “I’ve already got one. I’ll call ol’ Edge up tonight and get another one.” I snicker, “Edge? What?” He winks, “The guitarist, darling.” I nod, “Right, and that singer. God, what is his name?” I pick up the paper again and scan the article, “Bono. Yeah.” I turn the paper over and see a picture. I’m about to ask which one is the guitarist when I see Bono. I look at the man sitting next to me. He’s staring at me intently, judging my reaction. I spit the words out, “That’s you! You’re… you’re Bono?”
He just chuckles, “I told you that you already knew me and my name, love.” I stutter, “But… but…no. I mean, this whole time?” I sink back in the couch, “You must think I’m an idiot.” He’s laughing, “No, not at all. I knew you’d figure it out.” I look at him again, “That’s seriously you?” The clothes. He has expensive clothes. And I was right by their recording studio. He nods, “That’s me, darling. None other.”
I sigh, “Well, I guess that makes me feel better. I didn’t invite a complete stranger into my house… well, not really.” He checks his watch, “Hey, I better call a cab. I gotta get going.” I jump up, “I’ll call you one, and you can get dressed.” He winks, “Sounds like a plan.” It doesn’t take long for the taxi to get here.
“So, we’re still on for burgers tomorrow, right?” He asks. I frown, “You mean you still want to?” He shrugs, “Why wouldn’t I?” “Well, I figured you were just gonna play mind games ‘til I figured out who you were.” I say. He studies me for a minute, “Well, I’m not. So, you still want to?” I smile, “Yeah, I do.” He winks, “I’ll pick you up at school.” He leans in and kisses my cheek. Then he’s gone, sprinting to his cab. I yell after him, “Do you even know where I go to school?!” He just waves.
|03-23-2005, 01:35 PM||#6|
Join Date: Apr 2004
Location: MA - the land of every weather pattern imaginable
Local Time: 05:09 PM
I really like it!! I can't wait to read what happens next. I found myself holding my breath when she looked for his name in the article. hee hee.
|03-24-2005, 03:07 PM||#11|
Blue Crack Addict
Join Date: Aug 2002
Location: Having fun with the changing weather in Illinois...and wanting to meet Bono again. Please...for christ sakes call me Weldy!!!!
Local Time: 05:09 PM
Cool story!! Please continue!__________________
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