|
Post by mesquite75 on Sept 22, 2009 6:58:33 GMT -5
Tonight was the last show! Finally, it had come after months away from home. We were going home, after tonight of course, but I had no doubts. We had done this hundreds of times after all.
I was up. Keith’s “I Wanna Know What Love Is” came and went. There was my cue! Smiling as always, I walked casually up the stairs and down to the microphone. I began singing (for the last time on this tour!!!) “Breaking Up Is Hard To Do.” Don’t get me wrong though. There is nothing I love more than performing.
The intermission part of the song was up. I ran up the stairs and snapped out my comb. Girls started screaming. I always feel so ridiculous at this part of the show, and I was trying my best not to laugh at MYSELF. Even though I've dealt with it up to now, you have no idea how hard it is to stuff the laughter down. It didn't help that just as I was thinking this, somebody out there shouted, “Don’t split your pants, Damian!!!”
I can honestly say I'd never heard that one before in my life! I was seriously trying not to laugh now. The music for the intermission was about to end, and it was time to get back to the microphone! It’s a good thing too. For a minute there, I thought I was gonna lose it. I didn’t, but…
I did trip on the stairs. I think I fell off the stage, but all I remember was a sharp pain in my head, and then everything went black.
Then suddenly, everything went white. I woke up, and I was surrounded by clean, white sheets? Where am I? What happened?Not all of these posts will be this short, I promise
|
|
|
Post by mesquite75 on Sept 23, 2009 11:44:06 GMT -5
Today is Saturday. In other words, today I’m helping Mrs. Ramirez in the kitchen until after supper; then I’ll help Mr. Hooper with bedding until nine, when Mom gets off work. Since it was only five thirty and did not have to deliver supper to the patients until six, Mrs. Ramirez and I were having a chat while setting the food on the trays.
“Are you getting excited yet mija?*”
“Oh, you’d better believe it! A week and a half till we leave for Ireland! Cassie and I have already started packing.”
“When was the last time she saw her sister?”
“Oh, I’d say about a year ago. They go to see Beth and Michael every year about this time, and this year, they invited me to come too.”
“Well that’s good. I know you’ve missed Beth almost as much as Cassie since she got married.”
“Yes. But I completely understand. I mean, family comes first.”
“By the way, Sasha, the young man in room number 312 woke up recently. He’ll be hungry.”
“Okay. I’m on it right now.”
I picked up a tray and started walking in that direction. Hmm. Number 312, that’s on Dad’s floor. Even before I got to the room, I could hear a lot of voices coming from it. That’s not entirely unusual though. Sometimes I have to go into a room in order to tell its occupants to keep it down because there are other patients too. It just makes it a bit awkward for me when I have to deliver stuff.
I came to the door of 312. After taking a deep breath, I knocked. ____________________________________________________
I had only been awake for ten minutes before I had all the guys plus Sharon in my room. Needless to say, it got a little stuffed in there.
“What happened?” was the first thing that came out of my lips. Keith answered this question before Sharon or anybody else could even open their mouth. “You fell off the stage head-first. Smashed your head on the floor and started bleeding. It was bad. There was blood all over the place. The doctor said you cut into your temporal artery or something like that. Long story short: you fell off the stage, you hit your head, you started bleeding. A lot.”
“How long do I have to stay here?”
Sharon answered this time. “The doctor said around a week or so since you lost so much blood. We actually can’t be in here like this for very long because you’re pretty weak right now. You really scared us, you know.”
“Sorry 'bout that,” I said sheepishly.
“You’re apologizing?!!” Ryan said. “You just had a head injury and you’re APOLOGIZING for it!??!”
“Sorry,” I said again.
“Don’t worry about it,” George said. “It wasn’t your fault, and you’re not going to be alone in this. We all decided to stay until you get out of the hospital.”
“But your flight leaves Monday!”
“I know, but you’re more important.”
“Oh no you don’t!” I said. “You guys haven’t seen your families in over two months! No way are you missing that flight!! And don’t try to talk me out of it either!” I said to Sharon. She looked like she was about to say something.
“Damian, these guys WANT to be here for you,” she said.
“I know they do! But I’ve gotten to see them for the past two and a half months. Their families haven’t! No, I do not want them here. They need to go home.”
“If you really feel that way, Damo,” Paul said, “I guess we can go. But don’t forget, we care about you.”
“Thank you. I know you guys do. I’d do the same for you any day of the week, but I think your families need you more than I do now.”
“All right, Damo, but we’ll still be thinking about you,” Ryan said.
“Thank you for that. You guys are great,” I said.
I laid back against the bed again. After that outburst, I'd be lying if I didn't say I wasn't exhausted.
We heard a knock on the door before a cheerful voice said, “Dinner!”
I perked up at this though. I was pretty hungry.
Paul immediately opened the door and bowed. Then he said, “Nice to meet you, dinner, and what do we have on the menu for Mr. McGinty this evening?”
A girl about my own age--if not a little younger actually--walked in through the open door. The poor thing had turned beet-red and was fumbling for words.
“Paul!” I hissed at him. “Sorry 'bout him,” I said addressing the girl now.
“What? I thought it was funny,” Paul said.
“Thank you for bringing my tray over.”
“Oh, it’s nothing. And enjoy your dinner of chicken and rice soup, a roll, and a chocolate pudding,” she said.
“More liquids?” I asked smiling. That's all they'd given me since I woke up.
She looked a little surprised that a patient was actually talking to her.
“Doctor’s orders,” she replied.
“Well, be sure to thank the doctor for me.”
“Will do,” she said while exiting the room.
All the guys plus Sharon looked at me.
“What?” I said.
“Flirt flirt flirt flirt flirt!” said Paul.
_______________________________________________________
*mi hija. This literally means, "my daughter," but it is used as a term of endearment.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Sept 23, 2009 13:56:32 GMT -5
ha that was cute Paul: hi dinner i love it please write more *goes under rock till u update*
|
|
|
Post by saerphe on Sept 23, 2009 17:45:23 GMT -5
I love Paul's last line there...*flirt flirt flirt flirt flirt* I nearly spat water all over my keyboard! XD
|
|
|
Post by mesquite75 on Sept 28, 2009 11:27:05 GMT -5
Phew! It’s amazing just how draining a mountain of dishes can be! By the time Mrs. Ramirez and I had finished washing them all, it was about seven thirty. But I figured an hour and a half is plenty of time to make the beds.
After getting the list of beds to make from Mr. Hooper, I was on my way. We change the sheets after a patient checks out so they’re fresh for the next person. Since not a lot of people checked out today, I only had six beds to make. I grabbed my cart. With the linens nicely folded and a big hamper for the dirty sheets, I was prepared for anything.
I quickly scanned the room numbers on my list. Let’s see, 357, 342, 326, 324, 312, and 305. Wait a second here! I looked back at the list. 312. It was still there in black and white. Oh great. I’m gonna have to go into his room again! I decided to save that room for last. Surely by then all those visitors will have gone. Too many people make me feel like an intruder. I volunteer at a hospital though. You’d think I’d be over that by now.
Forty-five minutes later, I was approaching room 312. Very quietly, I put my ear to the door. I only heard one voice. That’s a relief. There were no other voices answering. Is he talking to himself?
“Just go in and get it over with,” I told myself. I took a deep breath and knocked.
“Come in,” the voice said.
I pushed in my cart. When I came into the room, I saw him in bed talking on a phone. That would explain it. I pointed to the other bed. He just nodded and kept talking.
“Oh no, Mum, it’s just someone coming in to make the other bed in my room.”
I got straight to work. I tried not to, but I couldn’t really help but hear his side of the conversation.
“Don’t worry about me really. All I’m doing now is recuperating. I’m just pretty tired most of the time. They said it was because I lost so much blood. They want to make sure there's not head damage or anything. Running an unbelievable amount of tests! Yeah, my head aches, but it’s not unbearable. No really, Mum, you can stop worrying about me. The guys are great. They offered to stay until I got out of the hospital. No, they’re not staying. I told them to go home. Yes, Mum, I did. Oh, yeah, Sharon is still here. She’s not going to leave me alone in a hospital in a foreign country rest assured of that. No, she won’t be in here all the time, but she’ll be here a lot. I’ll manage. They guys fly out Monday. Yeah. I’ll see you soon! I miss you too. Okay, love you too, Mum. Ha ha. See you then! Love you too. Okay. Don’t worry I will. Okay, Mum. All right, love you too. I am! Yes, I will. Okay! See you then. Bye!”
Here he ended the phone call. There was silence in the room for several minutes.
“How did you hurt your head?” I asked quietly.
“I fell off a stage.”
“You fell off a stage?” I asked incredulously.
He nodded a little embarrassed. “You see, I’m in this singing group, and we were giving a show. I got a little distracted, tripped, fell off the stage, and hit my head. I think the doctor said I cut my tempral artery or something like that.”
“You’re temporal artery? Oooo. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, I should have been paying attention,” he said with a shrug.
“Is your accent Irish?” I asked while putting new sheets on the bed.
“Yes, I’m from Derry.”
“Wow what a coincidence! You wouldn’t happen to know Beth and Michael Sheridan by any chance would you?” He probably wouldn’t. I realized this after I had asked. Derry is pretty big after all.
“Beth and Michael Sheridan? I do actually. They’re one of my neighbors. They’ve lived there for what….two years now?”
“Yes that’s right! Beth Sheridan was a good friend of mine. In fact, her sister and I are going to visit them in a week and a half!”
“That’s pretty neat! Are you flying Southwest?"
“Yes.”
“Then I think we’ll be on the same flight!”
I was at a loss of words. This is just all too weird.
“Just out of curiosity,” he said. “Are you part of the hospital staff? I was surprised that someone my age would work at a hospital.”
“Not officially.” I said. “You see, I’m homeschooled, and both of my parents work at this hospital. I really don’t want to be left at the house all day long while they’re at work (I don’t think they would want that either to tell you the truth) so I bring all my schoolbooks here to the hospital. I do my school at a table in the cafeteria. After I’m done, I volunteer here until one of my parents gets off work.”
“Oh, I see. What do you usually do?”
“It depends. Sometimes I just sit behind a desk filing paperwork and helping lost visitors. And other times I help out in the kitchen or make beds like I did today. Or sometimes, I just talk to inquisitive patients who are recovering from a head injury.”
“Guilty.”
I laughed.
“So what kind of sights would you recommend seeing in Derry?” I asked.
“Well it depends. How long are you planning on spending there?”
“All summer!”
“Well, you'll probably be able to see it all then! I would definitely recommend the Giant’s Causeway. It’s not too far from there. Also there are several good museums and a whole lot of shopping malls.”
“Sounds like you know Derry inside out.”
“Almost. I’ve lived there my entire life. I love it there.”
“So what brought you to the states?”
“My singing group. We were giving a tour. We were actually at the tail end of it when I hit my head.”
“How long was the tour?”
“About two and a half months.”
“Wow. That’s a long time away from home.”
“You’re telling me.” _______________________________________________________
“So how long have you been volunteering?” I asked.
I did not want to let this conversation drop. She was too interesting a person to only talk to once and then never see again. Besides, I was going to be in this hospital for about a week. I want a friend.
“Oh, since about seventh grade. I’ve known all the staff here since I started homeschooling in third grade, but I actually started volunteering in junior high. “
I noticed she had finished making the bed.
“I hope I’m not keeping you from your volunteer work right now.” I said a little guiltily.
“Oh no!” she said. “Yours was the last room. No, I am officially done!”
“All right! I feel honored.”
“Oh you should,” she said with a wink. “It’s a very momentous occasion when I’m done for the night. Only happens once a day you know?”
“I think we should celebrate.”
“Sounds good. Um, how do you wanna celebrate?”
“Know any good hospital games?”
“Oh lots! Do you have a deck of cards?”
“Oh, I dunno. I think so.” I looked around. I think I remember Ryan giving me one, but I don’t quite remember where he put it.
“Oh there it is,” she said pointing to the space beside the TV.
“Would you mind getting them? I kinda can’t move.”
“Sure thing.”
She went over to the television and grabbed the deck of cards. After she came back, she pulled up a movable table, set it between her and the bed, scooted a chair next to the table, and sat down. As soon as she sat down, she opened the deck of cards and shuffled them a few times. Then she began to deal.
“Am I allowed to know what we’re playing?” I asked.
“After I finish dealing the cards.”
“Well hurry up!”
“Patience, patience, patience!” She made a clicking sound with her tongue at me.
“I’ll try my hardest, but still, hurry up! Are you dealing this slow to torment me!”
“Why, of course!”
“Shoulda known it.”
Finally she gave me seven cards. I still had no idea what we were playing. You can play an awful lot of games with seven cards.
“Okay,” she said. “Do you have any fives?”
“We’re playing Go Fish?” I asked incredulously.
“Yes, we’re playing Go Fish.”
“I haven’t played Go Fish since I was in primary school.”
“Well, you’re playing it now. So just answer the stinkin’ question. Do you have any fives?”
I quickly scanned my hand. After finding no fives, I smugly said, “Go fish.”
She gave me a look, and then took a card. This was so much fun.
In the middle of our fourth game of Go Fish (I won the first one, but she beat me on the next two), her cell phone went off.
“Sorry,” she said. “Hello? Sorry, Mom. I completely lost track of time. Playing Go Fish with a patient. Yeah. Okay, I’ll put my cart away then get straight over there. See you in a few minutes. Bye.”
She snapped shut her cell phone and put it in her pocket.
“Sorry,” she said, “but I gotta go. That was my mom saying her shift is over.”
“Okay, I should probably get some sleep anyway. Go Fish really takes it outta ya.” I said. “See you… tomorrow?”
She shook her head.
“My parents usually get Sundays off unless there’s some kind of an emergency or something. But I might stop by Monday. How’s that?”
“Sounds good! The guys are probably going to be in here all day tomorrow anyway.”
“Then we got ourselves a plan! Any games you like?”
“Surprise me. You’ve been here longer than me. You probably know all the popular hospital games. And I declare a rematch!”
“Okay, but I’ll only slaughter you again.”
“Says you.”
She laughed.
She has the most gorgeous laugh.
“All right. Now you had better rest up for that draining rematch game.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said saluting.
She laughed again.
“See you Monday!” I said.
“See you Monday.”
Just like that, she left the room, leaving myself alone with my thoughts. It wasn’t until then that I realized I still didn’t know her name.
|
|
|
Post by mesquite75 on Oct 3, 2009 21:04:46 GMT -5
It was after church, and Cassie and I were sitting on the floor painting each other’s toenails while talking girl talk before lunch. Cassie had her iPod hooked up to the speakers and it was on shuffle. Right now, we were listening to “Would You Go with Me” by Josh Turner.
“OH MY GOSH!! He did not!”
I laughed. “Yes, he did!”
“No way!! Was he cute?”
“He was like thirty!!”
“Not that guy! The one in the hospital bed!”
“I dunno, I guess he might be normally. It’s kinda hard to tell now. His hair is shaved off around his head where they had to give him stitches. And he’s in a hospital bed for cryin’ out loud! I don’t think about these things when he’s in a hospital bed!!”
“So he’s not cute at all?”
“You have issues, my friend.”
“Oh yes, I know, but you’re ignoring the question. Is he cute?”
“Okay, so he’s beyond cute, but that’s not the point!”
She laughed. “Ha! I knew it!!”
“Forever & Always” by Taylor Swift came on.
“But you said you saw him again though right?” she said.
“Yeah. We started talking later on that night when I was making the other bed.”
“SO! What did you talk about? What did you do?!? Details, Sasha, details!”
“We didn’t really DO anything except play Go Fish. He’s from Ireland though. Oh! And has the most beautiful accent you’ve ever heard. He’s actually Beth’s neighbor! Can you believe it?!?!?”
“No way!!! So what’s his name?”
I thought about this for a minute before I came to a startling conclusion.
“You know what, I don’t know……”
“Waddia mean you don’t know!?!?”
“I don’t know! I forgot to ask. I think his last name was Mc-something. Very Irish sounding. McGrady? McGitty? I don’t remember. Something like that.”
“McGitty?” Cassie said, mocking me. “That sounds like a cross between Smitty and a McGriddle at McDonalds!!!”
“Well, I DON’T think it was McGitty, but it was SOMETHING like that!”
“Christmas 1915” by Celtic Thunder (of course. How many other “Christmas 1915”s are there?) came on.
I heard the change in music. That’s weird. Cassie is a die-hard country fan. That doesn’t sound like country.
“Sasha, are you all right?”
“Huh? Yeah, I was listening to the song.”
“Oh, well, I wondered. Cause you got fingernail polish all over my skin, not my nail.”
“Sorry. What is this? It’s absolutely beautiful!”
The music was washing over me. Not only were the lyrics hauntingly beautiful, but the voices! They all sounded so perfect, and yet different. It’s like the best of every age group combined into a harmony.
“It’s by Celtic Thunder. I never told you about them? They’re amazing!”
“Wow, they ARE amazing.”
“They’re an Irish group of five different soloists. There’s—“
“CASSIE!! SASHA!! TIME TO EAT!!” Cassie’s mother yelled.
“Uh oh. Time to go. Sorry we didn’t get a chance to finish the song.”
“That’s okay. We’ve got the whole summer together for that kind of thing.”
We both rushed to the kitchen (but very carefully of course, for fear of messing up our toes) where Cassie’s mother was putting a serving spoon into the pot.
“What are we having?” I asked.
“Tortilla soup,” she said.
“YUM!” Cassie and I both said.
“JINX! You owe me a soda!” we both said again.
Cassie’s mom rolled her eyes.
“Well, girls, dig in.”
The next morning found me frantically searching my room for good games and movies. What the heck does he like? I searched around in the game closet. Twister, no. Jenga, no. Yahtzee, eh, okay. Scrabble, no, I really stink at it. Scattergories, why not. Battleships, sure. Apples to Apples, nah, you need more people. Clue, yes! I think these four games will be enough. Fifteen minutes of laboring over what movies to bring later, I was armed with The Lord of the Rings as well. All set for the hospital.
I didn’t get a chance to see him until lunch. Until then, I was doing schoolwork in the cafeteria. I welcomed the break. Visiting this guy was definitely more interesting than school. When I got in there, I saw him messing with an iPod in his bed with a lady reading a book in a chair beside him. I’m guessing the lady was the Sharon he mentioned to his mother on the phone the other night.
When he saw me, his face lit up.
“I only have a couple of minutes,” I said. “I just wanted to tell you that I’ve got all these games, and that I’ll be here around five. But I gotta leave at eight though.”
“That’s okay!” he said. “Is there any way you could get in here before five?”
“No, sorry, I’m going to be at the desk. I don’t have a choice.”
“Oh,” he said. “Well, what games did you bring?”
“I brought Yahtzee, Clue, Scattergories, and Battleships. I also brought The Lord of the Rings in case we get tired of games.”
“Sounds fun! Can’t wait til five.”
“Oh, me either! I’ll see you then! I have to get back to the cafeteria now and make sure I finish all my schoolwork before I have to be at the desk.”
“Good luck,” he said.
“Thanks, I’ll need it. Geometry is brutal.”
I left the room with the sound of his laugh playing in my mind. _______________________________________________________
“So THAT was the girl you said was coming in here tonight,” Sharon said.
“Yep. I told you that you’d already seen her though. Whenever she brought the food.”
“I’d forgotten.”
“You getting old, Sharon?”
“Only in my mind. The rest of me is still smokin'! But! I think you need to get plenty of rest before she comes in. I want you to spend the next two hours sleeping!”
“Sleeping?!? It’s just after lunch!”
“Yes, I know.”
“I’ll never be able to get to sleep!”
“Try,” Sharon said before getting back to her book.
I gave a sigh. Somebody has to be the Mum around here.
After trying to go to sleep for fifteen solid minutes, I gave up. It is so boring in here! All the guys left yesterday after spending most of the day in here. They made sure to leave me with lots of teasing and great craic. I was so happy I only had to tell SHARON about whatever-her-name-is coming in here tonight. Otherwise, it could have gotten bad in there.
I stared at the ceiling for over half an hour. I got so bored that I started counting the stains up there. There was one in particular that fascinated me. It was shaped like one of those old Coca-Cola bottles. What would cause a stain like that? I’m not even on the top floor. Did someone forgot to turn off the faucet and they had a major flood? Spilled an IV bag perhaps? This is ridiculous! There has GOT to be a better way to spend the next hour and fifteen minutes.
I looked over at Sharon. She was still reading her book.
“You’re supposed to be asleep.”
“I can’t fall asleep.”
“Okay, fine, but do something quiet. You need your rest, and I want to finish this book.”
I looked at the cover of her book. I KNOW I’ve seen it before.
“What is the book about?” I asked.
“It’s a murder mystery. These five guys are all killed and this mortician is trying to figure out how each of them died in order to help solve a case.”
“Oh! I think I’ve read that one. Do they know who did it yet?”
“Nope.”
“Got any guesses?”
“Nope.”
“At all?”
“Nope.”
“I’ll give you a hint.”
“That’s okay, Damian.”
“You sure? Can I tell you that the killer’s name starts with a W?”
“WHAT?!?!? I didn’t want to know that! And there’s only ONE guy in this book whose last name starts with a W!”
I grinned at her. Then she hit me with the book.
“That girl had better get here soon,” she said.
The remaining four hours and ten minutes seemed like an eternity for both of us.
|
|
|
Post by mesquite75 on Oct 6, 2009 12:32:32 GMT -5
Knock knock.
Finally! It’s her! It’s her! She’s here! I know it! I put on my best suave, casual voice.
“Come in,” I almost sang.
She stuck her head in.
“Hi!” she said.
She walked into the room, set down the games, and pulled up a chair.
“I don’t know about you,” she began, “but I started thinking after I left, and I decided it would definitely be a good idea if we both officially introduced ourselves.”
“I agree. It wasn’t until you left that I realized that I still had no idea who you are. And believe me, I had a fun time trying to explain to Sharon here that a girl I didn’t know what going to come in and play some games later on.”
“I can imagine!”
“So,” I said in a very professional tone, “my name is Damian McGinty, and this is Sharon Browne. Remember that singing group I told you I was in? Well, Sharon here is our producer!”
“Hello, Sharon. Hello Damian,” she said in an equally businesslike manner. “My name is Sasha Parker.”
Sasha. So that was her name. It fit her.
Handshakes were then exchanged all around.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Sasha,” said Sharon getting rid of all the professional tones. “I’ve heard a lot about you—“
Great. Thanks, Sharon.
“and I couldn’t wait to meet you! I must admit, I was getting a mite curious as to who this girl who was coming in to see Damian would be.”
“Well, thank you!” she said.
“So!” I said before Sharon could do any more damage. “Who wants to play a game?”
We spent the next hour playing Scattergories and Yahtzee. I beat everyone every time at Scattergories, thank you very much, but Sharon whipped us both three times in a row at Yahtzee. After finishing yahtzee, we ate supper (Sasha went and grabbed us each a tray from the cafeteria. Oh the perks of having a friend who works at the hospital!). Then the three of us chatted for a while about nothing in particular until Sharon said she had to get back to the hotel and talk to her family. We both said our goodbyes to Sharon and looked at each other for a minute in awkward silence, each of us thinking of what to say next.
sorry about the short post guys. The next one is going to be really long though. *evil grin*
|
|
|
Post by mesquite75 on Oct 8, 2009 11:14:07 GMT -5
“So what—“
“What do—“
We both laughed.
“You go first,” he said.
“Oh, it’s really nothing. I was just going to ask what exactly it is you DO in here all day long.”
“Oh. Well, today I tried to get the tele to work, but couldn’t, annoyed Sharon for a while, and listened to my iPod so much that I got a little sick of music.”
“Jam-packed day huh?”
“You wouldn’t believe it.”
“So what kind of music were you listening to that you got sick of?”
“Well, I have a whole lot of stuff by different people. I like quieter songs though. Actually, I’ve fallen asleep while listening to my iPod several times before and then woken up with it still playing. My mum is fearing for my ears.”
“Sounds like my mother.”
“You wanna see?”
“Your ears?”
“No, my iPod.”
“Um, sure.”
I scooted a little closer to the bed while he got out his iPod. It was bright red. He flipped to the “Artists” section and started from A, giving me a commentary of his favorite singers on down the alphabet. I noticed when we got to C, he started scrolling down a little faster.
“Wait!” I said.
“What is it?”
“Is that Celtic Thunder?” I asked pointing to the screen a little confused. It did indeed say Celtic Thunder, but it said it about six times. It was there once by itself, but then all the other ones had another name beside it. I also noted that one of them had HIS name beside it.
“I was hoping to bypass that one,” he said.
“Why ever for?”
“Well, remember that singing group I told you about?”
“Yeah...”
“Well, this is it. I kinda didn’t want to tell you in case you started treating me different or something like that.”
“I wouldn’t do that!”
“Good! I’ll tell you all about it then. Had you ever heard of us before?”
“Yes, I have known about Celtic Thunder now for a grand total of almost twenty-four hours! I heard part of one of yall’s songs over at my friend’s house yesterday. It sounded really nice, but just when I asked my friend about it, we got called to dinner. I didn’t even hear all of the song.”
“Which song was it?”
“I’m not sure. It had something to do with being soldiers and singing a Christmas carol though if that’s any help.”
“Oh yes! You wanna listen to the rest of the song?”
“I would love that.”
He plugged his earphones into the iPod, gave me one, and put the other in his ear.
“Do you want me to commentate during the song or do you want me to stay quiet?” he asked.
I thought about it for a second.
“How 'bout the first time I just listen to it, then we can play it again and you can give me the commentary.”
“I can do that,” he said.
In a few moments, I was again listening to the amazing harmony of voices I had heard before. It was even better this second time than the first. After it was over, I looked at Damian. I was stunned.
“What? Did you not like it?” he asked.
“Are you kidding?!? That was absolutely beautiful! I had no idea you could sing like that! Although I’m not really sure which one is you.”
He laughed.
“I’ll show you.”
He played the song again. The first voice started singing.
“This is George. He’s like the daddy of the group… sort of.”
Then he waited til the next voice started singing.
“This is Ryan. He’s not like the show makes him out to be.”
“Huh?”
“Just remember that. You’ll understand later.”
“Okay.”
When an operatic voice came in, Damian said, “And this is Paul. He’s the one you met.”
“No way! The one that called me dinner?!”
He pressed pause.
“Yup. That’s him!”
“I think I like him better when he’s singing.”
He laughed that infectious laugh of his.
“You’d like him a lot better if you got to know him I promise. He’s actually really sweet, but he’s a jokester.”
He pressed play again.
“Now this is me,” he said.
“What! You’re kidding!”
He pressed pause again.
“No, really. Wanna see?”
Then he burst out singing some random note in the most operatic voice he could muster. It sounded terrible. Then he had to cut it short because he said he was getting a little dizzy from the effort.
The whole time I was giggling and couldn’t stop.
“Actually, it was recorded before my voice started changing,” he clarified.
He pressed play again.
I listened closely to this strange Damian.
“It sounds really good!” I said. “But I NEVER would have guessed that your voice used to sound like that.”
“Well, it did!” he said chuckling.
A new voice that hadn’t yet been explained to me started singing.
“This is Keith,” Damian said. “He’s a goofball. He also loves surfing. Although how he does it in Derry is beyond me. The water is ALWAYS cold there. I went surfing with him ONCE after the last tour with a wetsuit and everything, but I still couldn’t take it. My face was freezing even if the rest of me wasn’t.”
I laughed at the image of Damian freezing his tail off in a wetsuit next to a surfboard.
We listened to the rest of the song in silence.
“So do you have any songs recorded where you’re voice is like it is now?” I asked.
He nodded his head and started flipping away again until I heard some girls singing and a beat that set my feet tapping. Then an AMAZING voice started singing, asking someone not to take their love away from him.
“You look in shock,” he said.
“Shh!!” I said. “I wanna listen to the song!”
“Okay fine,” he said putting his hands up in surrender. “I shut up now.”
“Thank you,” I said giggling a little.
I listened in awe to the rest of the song. After the last “Breaking up is hard to do!” I looked over at Damian and said,
“That’s YOU? You sing like that?!?”
“Guilty,” he confessed.
“You have one amazing voice!”
“Thank you,” he said blushing a little.
“So can you tell me all about the rest of the group?”
He then started to tell me the ins and outs of all the guys’ characters both on and off the stage (aided of course by his trusty red iPod). By the time he was done, I was sorry that I had not been more observant the day I came in when all of them were visiting Damian. After a while, the conversation turned back to Damian’s voice.
“So was it hard having to do a show when you were afraid your voice was going to crack every two seconds?”
“Oh it was terrible! On top of it starting to become a strain to sing my old songs, you’d suddenly hear my voice do some straaange stuff. It got to the point where I would dread going out there. Eventually, I got used to it cracking and messing myself and all the rest of the guys up—“
Here he gave somewhat of an evil-looking face and arched up an eyebrow really high.
“and I just lived with it. The audience got a laugh from seeing it happen anyhow. But luckily! I ain’t got that problem now! I’m not four feet any more!”
“You were seriously that short?”
“Not quite that short, but I was still a midget.”
“How tall were you?”
“When we recorded the first show, I was 5’4.”
“Now wait a second here! I’m 5’4! Watch who you’re calling midget around here, mister!”
He then got this look on his face. It was hilarious. It was a mixture of “Oh, I’m so sorry!” and “Whoops!” and a mocking laugh all in one.
“WHAT can I ever do to make it up to you, oh short one!” he said.
I laughed.
“Well, first of all, you can cut out the dramatics. It doesn’t suit you. And second, don’t call me short. And third..... I’ll think of something! It will be brilliant, and when you hear it, you shall tremble in your bones.”
Just then my phone went off. It was Dad this time telling me his shift was over.
“Time to go?” Damian asked.
“Yes.”
“What time can you come in tomorrow?”
“I’ll be able to come in here after I finish delivering all the dinner trays tomorrow and the next day. If you can stand getting your food a few minutes late, I can save yours for last and stay in here until one of my parents gets off.”
“I’ll be able to go hungry a few extra minutes.”
“Then see ya tomorrow!” I said.
“See you then.”
“Wait, do you want me to leave the games in here so you and Sharon will have something to do in here tomorrow?”
“Okay! Thanks!” he said.
“No problem,” I said just before closing the door to his room behind me.
|
|
|
Post by mesquite75 on Oct 13, 2009 20:50:01 GMT -5
I looked at my watch. It was eleven fifty one. I don’t think Sasha is delivering the lunch trays today, but a guy can dream can’t he? I picked up the remote and began another fight of will with the tele. It refused to turn on. I couldn’t get up and walk over there (curse these hospital gowns and IVs), and Sharon looked nice and cozy in her corner. She might actually be asleep. Either way, I didn’t want to bother her. Back to mashing down the buttons on the remote.
I was just about to do some permanent damage to those poor buttons when I heard the door open. I knew it wouldn’t be Sasha, but I looked anyway. I was only a tiny bit disappointed to see the doctor come it. The nurses came in periodically to see how I was doing, but sometimes he would come in himself to see whether I needed more pain killer for my head and stuff like that. Maybe he could help me with my problem.
“You doing okay?” he asked.
“Yes. I was wondering. Could you help me with the tele? It refuses to turn on for me."
“The television?”
“Yeah,” I said a bit embarrassed.
“Sorry, you'll have to forgive me. I have a disease where I can’t understand foreign accents very well,” he said teasingly.
“That’s perfectly okay. I have trouble with some American accents myself,” I said while handing him the remote.
“So what was it you wanted to watch?” he asked.
“I dunno. I was just goin’ to surf the channels and see what’s on. Maybe if I was lucky there would be a football game on or somethin’.”
“You like football?” he asked.
“Oh yeah, I love it. Best game in the world.”
“You wouldn’t happen to want to go to one this Friday would you?”
Just then, the TV came to life, but somebody had turned the volume all the way up.
“AND IN OTHER NEWS, THE ECONOMY IS IN ANOTHER RECESSION. JAN, CAN YOU GIVE US THE DETAILS ON THAT ONE?
OF COURSE, MIKE, DUE TO THE…”
Sharon bolted out of her chair.
“Turn it off!” she screamed over the TV.
In fear of that loud monster (the TV, not Sharon), the doctor turned it off.
I started laughing, and I couldn’t stop. The only thing I could do was breathe (barely) and watch Sharon shoot fearsome glares at me. I couldn’t help it! I laughed until my sides ached. It didn’t help that Sharon started hitting me with her pillow either. After I finally got control of myself, the doctor again asked me the question I had forgotten in the midst of all the commotion.
“Would you like to go to a football game this Friday?”
I gave my best puppy-dog look at Sharon.
“Please?” I said. “I’ll be out of the hospital by then.”
“Sure. A football game sounds fun. Can you give me the directions to get there?” Sharon asked the doctor.
After writing down the directions for Sharon, he changed the volume on the tele back to a normal setting and turned it on again. Then he said he had to check up on other patients and that he’d be back later.
I was pumped. I couldn’t wait for Friday now! As I started flipping the channels looking for a good footy game, all I saw was American football. Wait half a darn second here……. _______________________________________________________
I was driving home with Dad. I’d had a fun evening with Damian again. This time we had started watching the Lord of the Rings. We'd only gotten half way through the movie before I had to leave though. It was pretty fun. Apparently,he’s a big movie talker, but since I’ve seen those movies a million times, I didn’t really mind.
I couldn’t really talk all that much while I was driving (wasn’t allowed. It’s part of Mom’s rules that I can’t even listen to the radio until I’ve been driving over two years), so Dad was manipulating the conversation. That was all right with me. It was all I could do to comprehend what he was saying while keeping my eyes on the road anyway. He was talking about his patients and his day, you know, the usual stuff. Then he completely switched the tone of the conversation.
“You want to go with me to a football game Friday night?”
“Sure,” I said. “Who’s playing?”
I didn’t really care who was playing because I don’t understand football at all. I just asked in order to keep the conversation flowing. Plus I’d like to know which color jersey I’d be rooting for.
“Kirby. You’ll need to yield to this guy here,” he said.
“You mind if I ask Cassie to come too?” I asked after being a good driver and yielding.
“Sure, but she’s already going. I was talking to Ian earlier today. I do have a favor to ask of you and Cassie though.”
“Shoot.”
“Would ya’ll mind sticking with one of my patients? Hopefully, he’ll be getting out of the hospital Friday morning. The poor guy’s been stuck in there for a while without a whole lot of family. I think you’ll like him. When I go in there to check on him he always starts talking like there’s no tomorrow. Must be really lonely.”
After looking in my rear-view mirror and checking out what was going on back there, I said, “You want me to babysit again?”
This happens quite frequently. He is constantly doing stuff for his patients. He’s a very nice doctor, but he sometimes forgets that he’s also a busy one, which means that I’m the one making cookies and babysitting kids at football games.
“I wouldn’t exactly call it BABYSITTING this time. He’s your age, or thereabouts. I think he’s actually older than you.”
Great, just exactly what I need. Awkwardness.
“I guess, but don’t make a habit of it.”
“Thanks, girly. Watch out for that car!”
I swerved out of the way just in time.
“Okay, I got to stop talking now,” I said.
He nodded.
“That’s a good idea. I’d rather not become the patient.”
“Hardy har har.”
|
|
|
Post by saerphe on Oct 16, 2009 15:12:02 GMT -5
*dies* That was pretty epic. I loved the end of D's section where he realized the doctor was talking about American football and not soccer. And Sharon getting startled was pretty dang funny too. XD XD XD
|
|
|
Post by mesquite75 on Oct 19, 2009 13:53:36 GMT -5
Knock knock!
“Come on in, Sasha,” Sharon answered.
She walked in carrying three trays full of food.
“Want some help with that?” Sharon asked.
“Yeah that would be great.”
After everybody got all situated and had started eating, I started up the conversation.
“Anything interesting happen today?” I asked Sasha.
“Well,” she said excitedly, “I finished all my school!! I am now officially out of the ninth grade! Thank you, thank you. No please, hold your applause.”
“That’s great! So you’ll be all free for Ireland?”
“Yep! I ended a little late this year though. Usually I finish up school by the end of May, but this year it just decided to drag on into June. But how ‘bout you? Anything exciting happen within these four walls today?”
“Not really, but yesterday I got invited to a football game.”
“Oh fun! Who invited you?”
“My doctor.”
“Your doctor? Wait a second here.” She had an odd look on her face as if trying to connect puzzle pieces. “Does your doctor have dark brown hair, a weird laugh, and tries to crack jokes but fails miserably?”
“Yeah that’s him, but I thought his jokes were pretty funny. Why?”
“That’s my dad. You must be the kid I’m babysitting.”
“I’m not following, Sasha.”
“Okay, well, I was driving home from the hospital last night when—“
“Wait a second. You drive?”
“Yeah. Or kind of. I have my permit, but not my license yet. Don’t you drive? You must be at least sixteen.”
“Yeah I am sixteen, but in Ireland, you can’t get your permit until you’re seventeen. Then you can get your license when you’re eighteen.”
“That stinks.”
“Tell me about it. Anyway, you were in the middle of telling me about driving home with your dad the doctor when I made that interruption with the driving bit.”
“Oh that’s right! Well, I was driving when he out of the blue asked me whether I wanted to go to a football game. I said sure, then he asked if I could do him a favor. He wanted to know if my friend Cassie and I could stick with one of his patients he invited to come. I guess I automatically assumed it would be a little kid, but then he said he’s my age. So I’m guessing that’s you.”
The coincidence was uncanny.
“That is pretty weird.”
“Yep.”
“So who’s this Cassie person?”
“She’s my friend. She’s actually the friend I’m going to Ireland with. It’s her sister that’s your neighbor.”
I followed this train of thought in my mind a minute.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Oh yeah, I’m fine. I was just trying to sort that all in my head. It’s taking me a while, but I’ve almost got it.”
“Yeah, I guess this can be kind of confusing can’t it?”
“A little.”
“It’s very simple, Damian,” Sharon cut in. “Sasha here has a friend who’s name is Cassie. Cassie has a sister whose name is Beth Sheridan. Beth Sheridan has a neighbor named Damian McGinty. Damian has a friend named Sasha Parker who is friends with Cassie whose sister is Beth whose neighbor is Damian whose friend is—“
“Okay, I get it, Sharon.”
“Good,” Sasha said. “Because I also forgot to mention that it was Cassie who showed me Celtic Thunder,” she said with an amused smile.
This was hurting my head. Not like it needed much help. Falling on it and cutting a temporal artery was already enough.
“So we’re also going to have a crazed fangirl in this confusing circle?”
“Not exactly. I’ll prep her before the football game.”
“Thanks for that.”
I was thoroughly grateful. Being with Sasha was like being home. I didn’t want awkwardness invading, and I knew that’s what I’d get if there was a fan in the mix.
“So do you want to finish our movie?” I asked. “I promise to try not to talk as much.”
“Okay, I suppose,” she said still laughing.
That was a sound I loved to hear. _______________________________________________________
Cassie and I were sitting on the bleachers waiting for Damian and Sharon to show up (our dads were a little farther down). They were a couple minutes late, but it was no big deal. They hadn’t done the kickoff yet anyway. I figured that since Sharon and Damian don’t live here, they might have gotten lost. San Antonio can be a mess to drive through if you weren’t used to it. Either way, I was about to call Damian’s cell phone if they weren’t here in ten minutes.
The minute I told Cassie about Damian, she screamed. Then she started asking question after question after question. She asked what he was like, if he was like a normal person (which I assured her he was. He wasn’t some alien from Mars), whether he and Keith were tight, and then she capped it all off with questions like is he cute, does he like you, do you like him, and so on and so forth. After a while, I had to nicely tell her that I promised him she’d behave herself. I had no doubts she would. Cat was a good friend that way. She understands. So she was asking all her remaining questions now instead of when he showed up. What I wanna know is where she thought up all these insane questions. They ranged from “What’s he like?” to “Are his eyes really that blue?” to “Does he have a weird laugh?” to “What’s his favorite Skittle flavor?” It was getting a little ridiculous.
“Okay, Cassie, you’ll be able to know all these things in a minute when he shows up okay? I promise you he’s normal, not stuck-up, and I promised him you’d behave and be normal and not stuck-up.”
“Okay. I’m just really excited. I’m just getting to meet one of the guys from my favorite group, that’s all.”
“Understood, but you still have to act, well, normal.”
“Gotcha. When he walks up, I’ll pretend he’s not there and just let you and him talk. Or would you rather I spent the whole evening talking to him? Or better yet, what if I just stared at him the whole time? Do you think that would be all right? Oh! Or how about YOU start up the conversation, and I’LL join in whenever I think normal, I mean necessary.”
“Relax, Cassie. It’s really not a big deal. You’ll like him a lot and then you’ll forget all about how nervous you are.”
I gave her a reassuring smile, and that seemed to help.
Just then, I saw Damian and Sharon down at the bottom of the bleachers. I stood up and waved my hands so they could see where we were. Damian saw me, and he immediately started coming our way. Sharon started walking down to where my and Cassie’s dads were.
Wow. Damian looks different out of the hospital. He still looked funny with his hair shaved off around his stitches, but I just didn’t know what to think. I tend to get a little uncomfortable with people not in hospital gowns anyway, and now I started feeling nervous. Come on, Sasha. This is the same guy you played Go Fish with in the hospital. Get a grip.
He came over and sat beside me.
“Hello. Have they started yet?” he asked.
“Just about, but you made it.”
“Sorry,” he said. “Sharon and I got a bit lost.”
“That’s okay. I was halfway expecting that.”
“That’s nice o’ ye.”
I laughed. Then Cassie poked me in the ribs.
“Oh! I’m sorry. Damian, this is my friend Cassie.”
“It’s very nice to finally meet you, Cassie. Sasha’s told me about you.”
Cassie was at a loss of words for a minute, but when she finally could say something, she said, “I hope that’s a good thing.”
“Don’t worry. It is,” he promised.
Just about then they said to please rise for the national anthem. ______________________________________________________
I was really enjoying myself. The game was going great, and after I found out who I was rooting for, I had an even better time of it. The girls were talking through most of the football game, so I was only watching it half the time. It was a little different being around Sasha outside of the hospital, but once I got used to it, I liked it a lot. Maybe better. Cassie was a lot of fun too. It looked like Sasha and Cassie were more sisters than friends. I could tell that Cassie was still a little bit scared of me (thank GOODNESS Sasha hadn’t heard of Celtic Thunder before she met me), but that had started to wear off by halftime.
The three of us chatted about nothing in particular, and the conversation just kept flowing. We talked and talked and laughed and talked some more. I couldn’t wait to introduce them to my friends in Ireland. Eventually, we started talking about Ireland and the flight over there. Here was our plan: our flight would land in Dublin, and since Sharon lives in Galway and we were going to Derry, we’d have to switch to separate planes. Then, I came up with the idea that my parents could pick us up once we reached Derry. After the three of us decided on this, we consulted with Sharon and the girls’ dads. They all thought the plan was good. Three down, two to go. After I called my parents and asked them what they thought, they too said it was a great idea and would be much easier for everybody. They also suggested that they invite the Sheridans over to our house to have a big welcome home/welcome to Ireland party. By then, I was grinning from ear to ear. Cassie borrowed my cell phone at that point (it was the least expensive way since I have my phone set up to get free long distance, for obvious reasons) and ran the plan over with her sister. She liked idea too, and Cassie said that Beth was going to be calling my parents after she got off the phone to make up some “secret plans” that we DIDN’T know about. To top off this wonderful ending, our team won the football game.
|
|
|
Post by mesquite75 on Oct 25, 2009 20:24:02 GMT -5
After saying my goodbyes to Sasha and Cassie, I left with Sharon to go back to the hotel. With four whole days until the flight, Sharon and I did what every other normal person would do. We became tourists. We visited the Alamo, bought ice cream on the River Walk, and took more pictures then we would ever have the time to look at.
The day of our departure arrived much too bright and early. We had packed until past midnight the night before making sure we had everything. Sharon and I get along great, but we both missed George telling us not to leave things until last minute. Right now I was fighting to stay awake in a very comfortable chair at the airport. Our plane was a little late, but nothing Sharon and I couldn’t handle. The girls had not arrived yet, but it’s not like they were about to miss the flight.
I was just starting to drift off into never never land when Sharon poked me in the ribs.
“Owww. What?” I said very drowsily.
“They’re here.”
I looked behind me. Sure enough, there were Cassie and Sasha with their parents. They each had two GINORMOUS suitcases in tow. How much stuff could they POSSIBLY need? It’s not like there’s no stores in Ireland if you forgot something.
I was introduced to both Cassie and Sasha’s parents. They were all very nice, but I don’t remember much of what we said except when Mr. Parker told me that Sasha could take out my stitches in about a week. I was ready for a nice nap on the plane.
No such luck. In the plane, Sharon and I had this other guy sitting in our row. I don’t know what kind of service he had on his cell phone, but it was impressive. He was yapping away at that phone even after we were in the air. THEN! After he FINALLY got off the phone and I thought I could catch a few winks, he started snoring. And not just quietly snoring either. NOHO! I could see Cassie and Sasha a couple rows ahead craning their necks around to see what was making that ungodly noise. Oh well. I suppose I can make up this sleep debt later. I ended up talking to Sharon, looking out the window, and listening to my iPod for twelve and a half hours. And did that guy ever wake up??? Never! _______________________________________________________
We were all zombies, but we were in Ireland! The three of us were smooshed in the back seat of Damian’s parents’ car. There was only room for three of the five suitcases in the trunk, so the other two were underneath Cassie’s and Damian’s feet, and they were both fast asleep.
BUMP!!
“Oops, sorry about that, kids,” said Damian’s mom.
Damian and Cassie woke up with a jolt. And since I was sitting in the middle, I got even more smooshed. But I didn’t mind. I hadn’t ever felt exhaustion like this, and I couldn’t really think of anything else. After that twelve-and-a-half-hour flight to Ireland, and then the two-hour flight to Derry, all three of us were wiped out. In fact, I think I could fall asleep right about now…
When I woke up, I found I had fallen asleep on Damian’s shoulder. After very quickly getting my head off his shoulder, I checked to see whether he was awake or asleep. His eyes were closed, and his breaths were deep and rhythmic. Asleep, that’s a relief. I looked out the window to see that we had stopped at a very nice house in the middle of a very green neighborhood.
I gently shook Damian awake.
“We’re here,” I managed to say. I could barely talk, I was so tired.
“Oh. Okay,” he mumbled. Then after repositioning himself, he fell back to sleep against the window.
“Welcome to the McGinty place!!” Mr. McGinty exclaimed as he opened the door.
Damian (who, as you know, was fast asleep against the window) fell out of the car and into the driveway.
“This, Sasha, is a classic example of why you should always wear a seatbelt,” said Mrs. McGinty as she was passing by.
“Ow.” said Damian (still half asleep in spite of his being flat on the concrete).
|
|
|
Post by mesquite75 on Oct 29, 2009 7:48:56 GMT -5
“CASSIE!! SASHA!!!”
We both simultaneously turned around to see who was calling our names. Now, it’s really hard to see through sleep-crusted eyes, but judging from the voice and figure, I think it was Beth. Plus is might help that she and her husband are the only other people in Ireland (besides Damian and his family) who know we even exist. She was running toward us with her arms spread wide.
“Beth!” Cassie cried as she stumbled over to hug her big sister. I more sluggishly followed suit.
“Oh! I’ve missed you both so much! And I have so many things to tell and show you!” she said.
I wobbled over to her and pretty much fell into her hug.
“But I think that can all wait until a later time. You both look exhausted. Want some help with those bags?”
Cassie and I both nodded our heads as vigorously as two jet-lagged teenage girls could. Two trips later, we had all of our suitcases and carry-ons. Then after giving a big thank you to Damian’s parents for picking us up at the airport, we said our goodbyes.
After all this, Cassie and I proceeded to find our bed and crash on it. Beth and Michael’s house is kind of small (with it just being the two of them and all), so we had to share a room. Twelve solid hours later, Cassie and I woke up and decided to join the land of the living once again. We were awakened by the heavenly smell of cookies baking in the oven.
We walked into the kitchen to see Beth busily baking.
“Good morning, girlies! Or should I say afternoon you sleepyheads?”
“Morning,” I said as Cassie snitched some cookie dough.
“None o’ that! You two have to get dressed and help me finish making all these batches of cookies as punishment now!”
“What are they for?” I asked.
“A party tonight. Now go get dressed!”
We dashed to our room, got dressed at top speed, and raced back to the kitchen.
For the next two hours we baked and baked and baked. We made chocolate chip cookies, brownie cookies, gingerbread cookies, and just as we were about to make some sugar cookies, we discovered that we were out of sugar.
Beth didn’t seem too worried about it.
“Here,” she said. “Just take these two measuring cups and go across the street to the McGintys’.”
“That sounds like something from Leave it to Beaver,” I said.
“I missed you too, Sasha, Just go over there will y’all!”
She snapped her dishtowel at me.
“Okay okay! We’re going!” Cassie said.
So across the street we went, looking all the while like a couple of weirdoes carrying measuring cups. When we got to the door, I quickly rang the doorbell and stepped back to wait. We didn’t have to wait long. After a minute, Mrs. McGinty answered the door.
“Hello, girls! What can I do for you?”
“We were wondering if we could borrow some sugar,” Cassie said.
“You most certainly can! Come on in.”
We warily stepped into her house and followed her to the kitchen.
“How much do you need?”
I looked at the measuring cups Cassie and I were holding.
“A cup and a half.”
“All righty. Just a second.”
Without any further ado, Mrs. McGinty made some kind of signal and all these people jumped out of nowhere shouting, “SURPRISE!!!!”
I screamed. Cassie dropped her measuring cup.
This whole time Mrs. McGinty was laughing.
“Okay okay settle down! It’s a Welcome home/Welcome to Ireland surprise party!”
I should have known. Clever!! Or was it just that Cassie and I are so unobservant that we never noticed a thing?
“Beth called you didn’t she?”
“Had the whole thing planned out since you rang! Damian should be along in a minute. He and his Dad ‘had to make a run’ to the hardware store for some wood glue.”
Cassie and I didn’t really know anyone else here, so we were content to just stand there in our little corner and wait until Damian arrived. Mrs. McGinty had just left to talk to some of her other guests when, out of the blue, this random freckle-faced, green-eyed, sandy-haired teenager walked up to us and began a conversation.
“Hello you lovely ladies. You can call me Ethan,” he said as he wiggled his eyebrows.
Wonderful, we can call him Ethan. Not Elvis? I’m sorry. I was trying my best not to laugh. And I succeeded, somehow.
“It’s an honor to meet you two.”
“Hello, Ethan,” said Cassie.
You could hear the amusement in her voice.
“So you’re from the States, huh?” asked Ethan.
“Um. Yes...” said Cassie looking a little freaked out. “How did you--?”
“How did I know? It’s written all over your pretty face," he said winking. "And I’ve made myself a master at recognizing foreign accents. What brings you to the Emerald Isle?”
“We’re visiting her sister,” I said, trying to save Cassie from having to answer every question. He seemed INTENT on talking to her.
“So who’s your sister?” asked Ethan (addressing Cassie again).
I could see the word “stalker” written all over his freckled face. Poor Cassie.
At that precise moment, Beth walked into the house with a smile on her face and a huge tray of cookies in her arms.
“That’s her,” Cassie said pointing towards her sister.
“Oh, I see. Well, I think I’ll go make myself acquainted then. See you doves later!”
With that as his parting words, he walked away in the direction of the cookies in Beth’s arms.
After he was way out of earshot, Cassie and I both looked at each other and burst out laughing.
|
|
|
Post by mesquite75 on Nov 18, 2009 12:52:03 GMT -5
“We’re home, Mum!” I yelled as Dad and I walked through the door.
I kicked off my boots (it was a rather wet day today in the depths of Ireland) and walked to the kitchen table to put down this paper sack filled with the wood glue. I could hear whispers and scufflings. What is that? Still not completely knowing where these noises were coming from, I poked my head into the living room to further investigate. A whole roomful of people stood waiting for me.
“Welcome home, Damian!” said Mum.
Wow! I had no idea this many people could even FIT inside my living room! There was granny, Stephen, Jennifer, Aunt Sara, --and look!
Ethan was coming toward me full-speed. His freckles were standing out from his excitement, and his sandy hair was flying. He punched me on the shoulder. “Welcome home, Cuz.”
“Oh, it’s great to BE home I tell ya!” I said smiling my head off.
I took in all the decorations. They really did a good job in here.
“Hey, I met these two girls a minute ago….” Ethan said munching on a cookie.
“Yeah, that’s nice,” I said scanning the crowd. Hey there’s Sasha and Cassie! What are they doing hiding in a corner? I walked over there with Ethan tagging along behind me.
“Long time no see.”
“I know right?” Sasha said.
“By the way, I’d like you both to meet my cousin Ethan.”
Ethan’s face was priceless….almost as priceless as Sasha and Cassie’s. There’s got to be an interesting story with that one. Deciding to ask Ethan about it later, I asked, “How long have you two been standing here in the corner?”
“Not long,” Sasha replied.
“Well, I hope you haven’t grown too attached to it because I want to introduce you to all these people.”
Sasha smiled and said okay, but I could tell she wasn’t really thrilled with the idea.
“It’s all right. They won’t bite,” I assured her.
She smiled at me a little more bravely and followed me toward my family.
Throughout the introductions, I paid extra attention to Sasha. I wanted to make sure she didn’t become overwhelmed (I have a lot of family) and just enjoy herself. She struck me as a little uneasy around all the people, but she seemed to be having fun. _______________________________________________________
The evening waned down as more and more people left the party. Pretty soon, all who were left were Cassie, Ethan, Ethan’s mom, Beth, Michael, myself, and of course the McGintys. Ethan’s mom and Beth had stayed longer to help clean up, but now that the house was back to normal, we were once again saying our goodbyes.
“Thank you for throwing this party for us, Mrs. McGinty. I had a wonderful time!” I said.
“I’m not the only one you should thank. Beth here planned it. All I did was have it at my house!”
“Well thank you both then,” Cassie said.
I gave them a big smile chock-full of gratitude, and then I turned to Damian.
“Thank you so much for introducing me to your family. It meant a lot.” I didn’t really know how else to put it. He did more than that for me, but I couldn’t find a way to put it into words.
“Anytime,” he said.
“Hey you’re forgetting somebody!” Ethan said, addressing Cassie, of course.
“And it was nice to meet you, Ethan,” Cassie said.
“Bye!” I said waving to everybody. “And thank you again!”
|
|
|
Post by mesquite75 on Nov 20, 2009 13:10:43 GMT -5
Ethan and I have known each other since before we even had the memory capacity to remember. My mum and Aunt Sara (Ethan’s mum) were always close, even though there was a big age difference between them. Aunt Sara was born eight years after my mum. This worked out great for me though. That meant that while I had my older siblings bossing me around, I also had Ethan with me to help defy them. Ethan was an only child. All up until we were about six, we were the best of friends. Then when we turned seven (we were born only four months apart), the accident caused us to become brothers.
Ethan’s dad died in a car accident, leaving behind a very scared wife and a very sad, confused little boy. After that, Aunt Sara and Ethan moved in with us for about six months until she could get all her finances and stuff like that in order and get back on her feet again. Grown-up stuff to Ethan and I. We didn’t really pay much attention to the reasons WHY they were living with us. All our seven-year-old brains could handle were the facts that Uncle Ray was gone, Aunty Kay was really sad, and we could play together all the time. Of course, I also took it upon myself to keep Ethan happy and to get him a cookie from the cookie jar when he started crying about his dad. We took the opportunity to become brothers, and we became what every brother was. Friends, rivals, arch-enemies, playmates, whatever struck our fancy.
Right now we were sitting on the couch eating popcorn and watching X Factor. Everybody had left the party, and we were just enjoying the quietness of the house. Mum and Aunt Sara were in some other room talking.
“So who exactly WERE the two girls I met at the party?” Ethan asked during a Guinness commercial.
He caught me off-guard with a fistful of popcorn in my mouth. Once I finished chewing, I told him the whole story. After I was done, all he could say was,
“Hmmmm……….”
“Hmmmm? Hmm what?” I asked.
“We should give them a tour of Derry.”
I threw a piece of popcorn into the air. It landed on my chin, not in my mouth.
“Sounds good except for one thing.”
“What?”
“Beth and Michael probably already have something planned.”
“What do they do?”
“Who, Beth and Michael?”
“No, Bob and Betty. Yes, Beth and Michael!”
“I think they own a jewelry store.”
“But they have to work there sometime, riiiiight?”
“What are you getting at?”
“One of the days when THEY’RE at work, WE could take them to the Tower or something!”
“Get outta here! How on earth could we do that? How would we even GET there anyway?”
“The bus,” he simply replied.
“I dunno if Beth and Michael will go for it.”
“You never know until you ask,” he said, his eyes smiling.
I threw another piece of popcorn into the air. It landed in my mouth this time. Maybe, just maybe…….
|
|