the korman fic continues...
Feb. 22nd, 2007 07:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fenellaNo Tomorrow
Chp 1 - Rookie Year "Road Trip"
In the final days of August, the O’Neal family loaded Boots worldly possessions into the back of the family SUV and began the long drive from Port Perry, Ontario to Evanston, Illinois.
“I still don’t understand why you need so much stuff,” said Edward, who was wedged between the door and a box marked towels/dishes. “You’re a swimmer; you need one, a Speedo, and two, your laptop. Under extreme circumstances, you could make an argument for a pillow and a blanket but seriously, that’s it!”
Boots snorted. “And I’d do everything in a bathing suit?”
Edward gave his brother a look of extreme disdain. “Of course not, moron. In cold weather, you could double the blanket as a toga.”
“Edward, honey,” said Margaret O’Neal, exchanging looks with her husband, Arthur. “Your brother is going to be at university for the next four months. You could try being civil.”
Boots grinned at Edward who in turn, rolled his eyes. “Mom, Melvin’s been going away to school for the past seven years. In case you hadn’t noticed.”
Margaret dabbed at her eyes with an abused tissue. “And think of all those lost years. Oh Arthur, maybe we should look into sending Edward somewhere closer by. Port Perry District High, do you think?”
“What!?” squawked Edward, causing Arthur’s eyes to flicker to the rear-view mirror.
“Nonsense, MacDonald Hall is a fine institution and it’s served our boys well. Just look at Melvin.”
Arthur made affirming eye contact with Boots in the mirror. “We’re proud of you, son.”
“Eugh, ew, gag me,” said Edward. “Are we there yet?”
“Just a quick stop,” promised Arthur, pulling into the parking lot of the Port Perry pharmacy. “And then we’ll be back on the road.”
*
“Arthur dear,” said Margaret anxiously, as the O’Neals drove past crawling line-ups at the border crossing. “Are you sure that this is where we’re supposed to go?”
“Of course, I’m sure,” was Arthur’s terse reply.
“You’re probably right, but all I’m saying--” began Mrs. O’Neal.
“Look,” interrupted her husband. “I’m following the signs, they have arrows. Do I look stupid?”
“I’m sure you’re right,” said Margaret, laughing nervously. “This is all new to me.”
“I could do this in my sleep,” said Arthur confidently.
“Dad,” began Edward hesitantly. “Are those sirens?”
“Oh, look! It’s the police,” said Arthur with all the confidence of a good citizen who is doing the right thing. “I’ll just pull over here and let them pass.” A look of vexation crossed his face when the police cruiser followed him off the road.
“I guess this road is a bit too narrow for passing,” frowned Arthur.
“What are you going to do?” asked Margaret, distraught.
“Only thing to do,” said Arthur. “Where ever they’re going, they need to get there in a hurry. I don’t like breaking the speed limit, but-”
Arthur pushed the acceleration pedal to the floor, his black Cadillac Escalade responding with a pained sounding hum.
Boots sat up, alarmed, as another cruiser joined the chase. “Oh my God, Dad, were you following the signs that said ‘Government Vehicles Only’?”
“Stop this car at once!” shrieked Margaret.
Arthur slammed on the brakes, the SUV skidding to a stop, just inches from a third cruiser that had pulled out directly in the middle of the road.
“STEP OUT OF THE CAR WITH YOUR HANDS UP,” came a magnified voice, as Arthur O’Neal put his head down on the steering wheel, the mark of a desperate man. “MAKE NO SUDDEN MOVEMENTS, AND WE WILL NOT SHOOT.”
“I didn’t see the ‘Government’ part,” said Arthur mournfully.
"This is awesome!" said Edward.
*
“Oh good heavens!” shrieked Margaret O’Neal, who had taken the wheel of the Escalade at the bidding of both American and Canadian officials.
“Why is everyone speeding? This country is full of unlawful speeders, Melvin, don’t you ever drive here, I forbid it. Lawbreakers, lawbreakers!”
“Mom,” said Edward slowly. “You do know that the other drivers can’t hear you, right?”
“Well yes,” said Margaret, flustered. “But I don’t understand. The sign said eighty.”
“Margaret,” said Arthur.
“You, O’Neal,” snapped Margaret, “I believe you lost your speaking privileges at the border.”
Arthur half-turned in his seat to shrug apologetically at his sons. “Tell her,” he mouthed soundlessly, jerking his head towards his wife.
“Mom,” said Boots cautiously. “Funny thing – Americans? They put their signs in miles, not kilometres…”
“Of course, Melvin, of course,” said Margaret, eyeing the speedometer uneasily.
The rest of the trip, needles to say, continued at a quicker pace; except for the bit where Mr. O'Neal's year old Escalade became the centerpiece for a four-car pile-up.
*
Chp 1 - Rookie Year "Road Trip"
In the final days of August, the O’Neal family loaded Boots worldly possessions into the back of the family SUV and began the long drive from Port Perry, Ontario to Evanston, Illinois.
“I still don’t understand why you need so much stuff,” said Edward, who was wedged between the door and a box marked towels/dishes. “You’re a swimmer; you need one, a Speedo, and two, your laptop. Under extreme circumstances, you could make an argument for a pillow and a blanket but seriously, that’s it!”
Boots snorted. “And I’d do everything in a bathing suit?”
Edward gave his brother a look of extreme disdain. “Of course not, moron. In cold weather, you could double the blanket as a toga.”
“Edward, honey,” said Margaret O’Neal, exchanging looks with her husband, Arthur. “Your brother is going to be at university for the next four months. You could try being civil.”
Boots grinned at Edward who in turn, rolled his eyes. “Mom, Melvin’s been going away to school for the past seven years. In case you hadn’t noticed.”
Margaret dabbed at her eyes with an abused tissue. “And think of all those lost years. Oh Arthur, maybe we should look into sending Edward somewhere closer by. Port Perry District High, do you think?”
“What!?” squawked Edward, causing Arthur’s eyes to flicker to the rear-view mirror.
“Nonsense, MacDonald Hall is a fine institution and it’s served our boys well. Just look at Melvin.”
Arthur made affirming eye contact with Boots in the mirror. “We’re proud of you, son.”
“Eugh, ew, gag me,” said Edward. “Are we there yet?”
“Just a quick stop,” promised Arthur, pulling into the parking lot of the Port Perry pharmacy. “And then we’ll be back on the road.”
*
“Arthur dear,” said Margaret anxiously, as the O’Neals drove past crawling line-ups at the border crossing. “Are you sure that this is where we’re supposed to go?”
“Of course, I’m sure,” was Arthur’s terse reply.
“You’re probably right, but all I’m saying--” began Mrs. O’Neal.
“Look,” interrupted her husband. “I’m following the signs, they have arrows. Do I look stupid?”
“I’m sure you’re right,” said Margaret, laughing nervously. “This is all new to me.”
“I could do this in my sleep,” said Arthur confidently.
“Dad,” began Edward hesitantly. “Are those sirens?”
“Oh, look! It’s the police,” said Arthur with all the confidence of a good citizen who is doing the right thing. “I’ll just pull over here and let them pass.” A look of vexation crossed his face when the police cruiser followed him off the road.
“I guess this road is a bit too narrow for passing,” frowned Arthur.
“What are you going to do?” asked Margaret, distraught.
“Only thing to do,” said Arthur. “Where ever they’re going, they need to get there in a hurry. I don’t like breaking the speed limit, but-”
Arthur pushed the acceleration pedal to the floor, his black Cadillac Escalade responding with a pained sounding hum.
Boots sat up, alarmed, as another cruiser joined the chase. “Oh my God, Dad, were you following the signs that said ‘Government Vehicles Only’?”
“Stop this car at once!” shrieked Margaret.
Arthur slammed on the brakes, the SUV skidding to a stop, just inches from a third cruiser that had pulled out directly in the middle of the road.
“STEP OUT OF THE CAR WITH YOUR HANDS UP,” came a magnified voice, as Arthur O’Neal put his head down on the steering wheel, the mark of a desperate man. “MAKE NO SUDDEN MOVEMENTS, AND WE WILL NOT SHOOT.”
“I didn’t see the ‘Government’ part,” said Arthur mournfully.
"This is awesome!" said Edward.
*
“Oh good heavens!” shrieked Margaret O’Neal, who had taken the wheel of the Escalade at the bidding of both American and Canadian officials.
“Why is everyone speeding? This country is full of unlawful speeders, Melvin, don’t you ever drive here, I forbid it. Lawbreakers, lawbreakers!”
“Mom,” said Edward slowly. “You do know that the other drivers can’t hear you, right?”
“Well yes,” said Margaret, flustered. “But I don’t understand. The sign said eighty.”
“Margaret,” said Arthur.
“You, O’Neal,” snapped Margaret, “I believe you lost your speaking privileges at the border.”
Arthur half-turned in his seat to shrug apologetically at his sons. “Tell her,” he mouthed soundlessly, jerking his head towards his wife.
“Mom,” said Boots cautiously. “Funny thing – Americans? They put their signs in miles, not kilometres…”
“Of course, Melvin, of course,” said Margaret, eyeing the speedometer uneasily.
The rest of the trip, needles to say, continued at a quicker pace; except for the bit where Mr. O'Neal's year old Escalade became the centerpiece for a four-car pile-up.
*
