AUTHORS NOTE: Hey hey hey! Well, I am terribly sorry it has been so long
since I updated. ( I am quite ashamed. See, I had it all written and
stuff, but then I proofed it and it was like, blaaaaaah. And I KNEW you
guys would not want a blaaaaaah story. So there. Anyhoo, thanks be to all
of you who reviewed my meager little story. You have no CLUE how much
those words of encouragement mean to me. And some words of correction.
Tee hee hee, one of you-I don't remember which-and I am far too lazy to go
look it up, pointed something out Very Crucial. I feel SO STUPID!!! Ok,
here goes: Judy Garland was not in "Singing in the Rain". Aaaaaah! I am,
like, the old movie BUFF, so imagine my shame when I found this out. I am
going to edit it out, like, PRONTO, and then, I promise I will double check
my references from now on.
Quick thanks once again to Mally-you are my secret twin, and I love love
LOVE you, and none of this would be HALF as good, if even possible, without
you.
PLEASE REVIEW!!!
* * * * * * * * * * * *
I burst into the apartment at full force, soaking wet and chilled seemingly to the bone. For a moment I just stood by the door, as if I wasn't sure quite what to do. My breathing was heavy from running home, and a cloud of tears was obstructing my vision.
Finally, I moved clumsily away from the door and collapsed onto the couch. I carefully pulled the blankets all around me, bothering only to kick off my boots. I knew that I should change into something warm; I could already feel myself shivering, but there was simply nothing left in me to do even the simplest of tasks.
Slowly, I curled up into a tight ball, tucking the blankets up to my quivering chin. I closed my eyes, meaning to only do so briefly, but all of a sudden I felt absolutely exhausted: mentally, physically, and emotionally. My eyes didn't open; they wouldn't have even if I tried by force.
And so with the rain steadily beating down overhead on the roof, my clothes wet and cold, I fell asleep, letting the welcomed sleep wash over me.
* * *
It was a whirlwind of me: spinning around, faster and faster, to the point where I couldn't see myself in clear form anymore. Then all of the memories-good, bad, indifferent-got dumped in the pool and started spinning around, too, until they all meshed into one single memory.
We were walking through the park back in Stars Hollow one barely rainy afternoon. I was talking passionately about something; Jess was laughing at me. The conversation was one I remember clearly: he had just said something about JD Salinger-something meant to be critical, not insulting, but I took it very personally and was defending the genius, not letting him get a word in edgewise. It was in perfect clarity, exactly how I remembered it.
But then, all of a sudden, we were in the same park that I had been in this afternoon. I (my present self) was watching me (my past self), and I was yelling something-a warning, I think-but no words were coming out; it was just a silently moving mouth. I looked up to the sky in frustration, and I saw him there, just perched on top of a rain cloud, watching me.
I reached up my hand towards him, and he was reaching back. Right as our hands met, he jerked back, and disappeared. The rain started pouring down harder, so hard that I felt like I was drowning; I couldn't even breathe.
* * *
I woke up with a start, breathing heavily and in a cold sweat. I lied there for a moment, my head racing, and then did the only logical thing to do after I had had a freaky dream. Instinctively, I picked up the phone and dialed mom.
"Hi hello."
"Mom?" I asked, timidly, although I could never mistake that reassuringly familiar voice for anyone else's.
"Rory?!?"
"Yeah. It's me." I felt bad hearing how happy it made her to get a call from me. I could kick myself for not calling every day, even more at times.
"Oh my god! Hey, you! What's up?"
"Oh, not a lot," I lied. Knowing it would get her talking, I asked, "What about you?"
"Oooooh, not a lot. Except, uh, the not-so-charmingly abrasive sociopath otherwise known as the woman who masqueraded as my mother for my entire childhood is officially on a rampage to take over Stars Hollow and then the world."
"And how is she planning to do that?" I asked, stifling a giggle at my mom's melodramatics.
"Oh, well I'm so glad you asked. See, the headquarters for the Daughters of the American Revolution has been taken over by the Sons of the Irish Revolt or something like that. Sooooo, naturally, all of the 'acceptable' meeting places in Hartford are occupied on Wednesdays, when they meet, and of course she can't change the meeting day to another day that has more vacancies to their advantage. Oh, no, no, no. That would like, be destructive to their matching hair-do's or something. My dear mother has decided that it would do the women good to meet in a 'quaint, quieter, place a bit off the beaten track'. She wants to meet at the inn!"
"No!" I said, not bothering to stop my giggles this time.
"Oh, yes. Of course, I tried to stop her, but did she listen? No. Has she ever listened to me? No! And I was telling her all of this and-uh- oh."
"What?" Damn. She had caught on.
"Why aren't you at work?"
"Oh, well-"
"Is everything ok? Honey, are you ok?"
"Yeah, I'm good."
"You're good?"
"I'm good."
"Well, that's good. Um, I am glad that you are good."
"Yeah. Me, too." There was an awkward silence, and I knew it was my turn to fill it. I added hastily, "It was raining."
"Aw, honey."
"It was raining, and I got all sad, and I called in sick, and then I wallowed, and I went out, and bought 'Howl' and danced, and it was bad, and I fell asleep, and I had this dream, and it was so awful, mommy." Through all the babbling and insanity, I knew that she would know exactly what happened.
"Oh, sweetie. I am so, so sorry."
"Yeah."
"So, um, you had a dream, huh?" She asked, knowing me well enough not to ask me to relive my horrible moments.
"Uh-huh. But I-"
"Well, I assume you need an analysis. So, go on. Chatter away."
I smiled, grateful for the small miracle of how well she knew me, and for how much I loved her. I spilled every last miniscule detail of the dream, and she made sympathetic noises in all the right spots. When I was finished, it felt so good to get it all out, and so good to feel close to her again.
"So, what do you think?"
"Oh, well, this is such a classic."
"Really?"
"Sure! Symbolism, through and through. Everything. I mean, the spinning was because you still feel kind of thrown after that huge blow that you took. You've worked so hard and you've put your entire life back together, but there are still times when that whole incident just rears its ugly head and you can't help but being kind of pitiful for a little while. And like, when you couldn't see yourself clearly for a second, it's like Jess took this part of you with him, and you might not ever get it back, so you're struggling to see that part of you that you lost."
"I want it back."
"I know you do, babes. I know you do."
"Maybe when I was yelling at my past self it was like when you and everyone else was warning me about him, but I just couldn't make myself hear you."
"Oh, Rory, no. Even I couldn't see that one coming. Don't beat yourself up about it."
"I know. It's just hard."
"I know it, sweetie." I could hear her take a shaky breath, and I realized how much it really killed her to see me so torn up.
"I love you, mom."
"Oh, honey, I love you, too."
"I know that I haven't been like I used to be a lot of the time after all that happened, and I just-"
"Rory, I understand."
"No! I shouldn't act that way toward you over something that happened five years ago! God, so we broke up. People break up all of the time!"
"Not like that, Rory! Listen to me. You loved Jess so, so much. No matter how neatly or how messily you guys break up, it's gonna hurt. You don't just get over it. No matter how strong you are it takes enormous amounts of time, and honey you are strong. So don't go and start doubting yourself. Just stop right now."
"Ok," I said softly, sighing. "Um, what else about the dream?"
"Oh!" She said, surprised, as if you didn't expect me to give in quite that easily. "Oh, well, ok it's like you were......"
* * *
After I hung up with mom, I felt slightly better. Better, but still kind of discontented. My mind was swimming, and I just needed to clear it. I needed to escape this world that I was stuck in for the time being, and spend some time in another one. I needed to read.
I reached for the coffee table, thinking that I must have left "Howl" sitting there after I came in, before I dozed off. But as my hand felt around the empty surface I realized what had happened. I knew now that "Howl" had been tucked into my jacket pocket, which was now lying out in the rainy park. It may have even peeked out of the pocket by now, soaking up some of the rain in its thin pages. All that I knew was that it wasn't here; I didn't have it.
I ambled out in the hall to check if the newspaper had come yet. I still needed to read something, something to chase the rest of my jumbled thoughts right out of my head.
When I opened the door I saw the newspaper sitting there, wrapped in a protective cover, needy little raindrops clinging to the plastic surface. I picked it up and began to shake the stubborn droplets off, but then stopped dead in mid-fling. Because underneath where the newspaper had been, there was a book. And not just any book.
My mouth hung slightly open in disbelief. After a long moment of gazing stunned at the spot on the floor, I looked up. I glanced quickly up and down the hallway, and hastily swiped the book up, throwing one last glance around, as if I was afraid that someone was about to catch me in the process of committing an unspeakable crime.
Numbly, I made my way back into the apartment, staring at the book the whole way. My mind was still far from comprehending the situation. The book was obviously new. It didn't have any scuff or dirt marks on it, but something set it apart from the rest of all the new books in the world.
It had the waterlogged, somewhat swollen look of paper that had been left out in the rain. The thin collection of pages stuck together as I attempted to flip through them, and some of the ink ran together. But as I was hurriedly going through the pages, something caught my eye.
In the margins of nearly every page, not large enough so one would notice them right off hand, but tucked in there as if to be discovered by further scrutiny, were tidy handwritten little notes.
At first glance I recognized the handwriting. And as I read the ample remarks, I had a sense of déjà vu. I recognized them, too. I had read them before.
* * * * * * * * * * *
PLEASE REVIEW!!! I love you all.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
I burst into the apartment at full force, soaking wet and chilled seemingly to the bone. For a moment I just stood by the door, as if I wasn't sure quite what to do. My breathing was heavy from running home, and a cloud of tears was obstructing my vision.
Finally, I moved clumsily away from the door and collapsed onto the couch. I carefully pulled the blankets all around me, bothering only to kick off my boots. I knew that I should change into something warm; I could already feel myself shivering, but there was simply nothing left in me to do even the simplest of tasks.
Slowly, I curled up into a tight ball, tucking the blankets up to my quivering chin. I closed my eyes, meaning to only do so briefly, but all of a sudden I felt absolutely exhausted: mentally, physically, and emotionally. My eyes didn't open; they wouldn't have even if I tried by force.
And so with the rain steadily beating down overhead on the roof, my clothes wet and cold, I fell asleep, letting the welcomed sleep wash over me.
* * *
It was a whirlwind of me: spinning around, faster and faster, to the point where I couldn't see myself in clear form anymore. Then all of the memories-good, bad, indifferent-got dumped in the pool and started spinning around, too, until they all meshed into one single memory.
We were walking through the park back in Stars Hollow one barely rainy afternoon. I was talking passionately about something; Jess was laughing at me. The conversation was one I remember clearly: he had just said something about JD Salinger-something meant to be critical, not insulting, but I took it very personally and was defending the genius, not letting him get a word in edgewise. It was in perfect clarity, exactly how I remembered it.
But then, all of a sudden, we were in the same park that I had been in this afternoon. I (my present self) was watching me (my past self), and I was yelling something-a warning, I think-but no words were coming out; it was just a silently moving mouth. I looked up to the sky in frustration, and I saw him there, just perched on top of a rain cloud, watching me.
I reached up my hand towards him, and he was reaching back. Right as our hands met, he jerked back, and disappeared. The rain started pouring down harder, so hard that I felt like I was drowning; I couldn't even breathe.
* * *
I woke up with a start, breathing heavily and in a cold sweat. I lied there for a moment, my head racing, and then did the only logical thing to do after I had had a freaky dream. Instinctively, I picked up the phone and dialed mom.
"Hi hello."
"Mom?" I asked, timidly, although I could never mistake that reassuringly familiar voice for anyone else's.
"Rory?!?"
"Yeah. It's me." I felt bad hearing how happy it made her to get a call from me. I could kick myself for not calling every day, even more at times.
"Oh my god! Hey, you! What's up?"
"Oh, not a lot," I lied. Knowing it would get her talking, I asked, "What about you?"
"Oooooh, not a lot. Except, uh, the not-so-charmingly abrasive sociopath otherwise known as the woman who masqueraded as my mother for my entire childhood is officially on a rampage to take over Stars Hollow and then the world."
"And how is she planning to do that?" I asked, stifling a giggle at my mom's melodramatics.
"Oh, well I'm so glad you asked. See, the headquarters for the Daughters of the American Revolution has been taken over by the Sons of the Irish Revolt or something like that. Sooooo, naturally, all of the 'acceptable' meeting places in Hartford are occupied on Wednesdays, when they meet, and of course she can't change the meeting day to another day that has more vacancies to their advantage. Oh, no, no, no. That would like, be destructive to their matching hair-do's or something. My dear mother has decided that it would do the women good to meet in a 'quaint, quieter, place a bit off the beaten track'. She wants to meet at the inn!"
"No!" I said, not bothering to stop my giggles this time.
"Oh, yes. Of course, I tried to stop her, but did she listen? No. Has she ever listened to me? No! And I was telling her all of this and-uh- oh."
"What?" Damn. She had caught on.
"Why aren't you at work?"
"Oh, well-"
"Is everything ok? Honey, are you ok?"
"Yeah, I'm good."
"You're good?"
"I'm good."
"Well, that's good. Um, I am glad that you are good."
"Yeah. Me, too." There was an awkward silence, and I knew it was my turn to fill it. I added hastily, "It was raining."
"Aw, honey."
"It was raining, and I got all sad, and I called in sick, and then I wallowed, and I went out, and bought 'Howl' and danced, and it was bad, and I fell asleep, and I had this dream, and it was so awful, mommy." Through all the babbling and insanity, I knew that she would know exactly what happened.
"Oh, sweetie. I am so, so sorry."
"Yeah."
"So, um, you had a dream, huh?" She asked, knowing me well enough not to ask me to relive my horrible moments.
"Uh-huh. But I-"
"Well, I assume you need an analysis. So, go on. Chatter away."
I smiled, grateful for the small miracle of how well she knew me, and for how much I loved her. I spilled every last miniscule detail of the dream, and she made sympathetic noises in all the right spots. When I was finished, it felt so good to get it all out, and so good to feel close to her again.
"So, what do you think?"
"Oh, well, this is such a classic."
"Really?"
"Sure! Symbolism, through and through. Everything. I mean, the spinning was because you still feel kind of thrown after that huge blow that you took. You've worked so hard and you've put your entire life back together, but there are still times when that whole incident just rears its ugly head and you can't help but being kind of pitiful for a little while. And like, when you couldn't see yourself clearly for a second, it's like Jess took this part of you with him, and you might not ever get it back, so you're struggling to see that part of you that you lost."
"I want it back."
"I know you do, babes. I know you do."
"Maybe when I was yelling at my past self it was like when you and everyone else was warning me about him, but I just couldn't make myself hear you."
"Oh, Rory, no. Even I couldn't see that one coming. Don't beat yourself up about it."
"I know. It's just hard."
"I know it, sweetie." I could hear her take a shaky breath, and I realized how much it really killed her to see me so torn up.
"I love you, mom."
"Oh, honey, I love you, too."
"I know that I haven't been like I used to be a lot of the time after all that happened, and I just-"
"Rory, I understand."
"No! I shouldn't act that way toward you over something that happened five years ago! God, so we broke up. People break up all of the time!"
"Not like that, Rory! Listen to me. You loved Jess so, so much. No matter how neatly or how messily you guys break up, it's gonna hurt. You don't just get over it. No matter how strong you are it takes enormous amounts of time, and honey you are strong. So don't go and start doubting yourself. Just stop right now."
"Ok," I said softly, sighing. "Um, what else about the dream?"
"Oh!" She said, surprised, as if you didn't expect me to give in quite that easily. "Oh, well, ok it's like you were......"
* * *
After I hung up with mom, I felt slightly better. Better, but still kind of discontented. My mind was swimming, and I just needed to clear it. I needed to escape this world that I was stuck in for the time being, and spend some time in another one. I needed to read.
I reached for the coffee table, thinking that I must have left "Howl" sitting there after I came in, before I dozed off. But as my hand felt around the empty surface I realized what had happened. I knew now that "Howl" had been tucked into my jacket pocket, which was now lying out in the rainy park. It may have even peeked out of the pocket by now, soaking up some of the rain in its thin pages. All that I knew was that it wasn't here; I didn't have it.
I ambled out in the hall to check if the newspaper had come yet. I still needed to read something, something to chase the rest of my jumbled thoughts right out of my head.
When I opened the door I saw the newspaper sitting there, wrapped in a protective cover, needy little raindrops clinging to the plastic surface. I picked it up and began to shake the stubborn droplets off, but then stopped dead in mid-fling. Because underneath where the newspaper had been, there was a book. And not just any book.
My mouth hung slightly open in disbelief. After a long moment of gazing stunned at the spot on the floor, I looked up. I glanced quickly up and down the hallway, and hastily swiped the book up, throwing one last glance around, as if I was afraid that someone was about to catch me in the process of committing an unspeakable crime.
Numbly, I made my way back into the apartment, staring at the book the whole way. My mind was still far from comprehending the situation. The book was obviously new. It didn't have any scuff or dirt marks on it, but something set it apart from the rest of all the new books in the world.
It had the waterlogged, somewhat swollen look of paper that had been left out in the rain. The thin collection of pages stuck together as I attempted to flip through them, and some of the ink ran together. But as I was hurriedly going through the pages, something caught my eye.
In the margins of nearly every page, not large enough so one would notice them right off hand, but tucked in there as if to be discovered by further scrutiny, were tidy handwritten little notes.
At first glance I recognized the handwriting. And as I read the ample remarks, I had a sense of déjà vu. I recognized them, too. I had read them before.
* * * * * * * * * * *
PLEASE REVIEW!!! I love you all.