Status: DISCONTINUED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE
Master of Sardonic Wit
17.
November 5 1997
"Aren't you supposed to be at college?" Kayleigh asked when she entered James' bedroom and poked the curled up lump on the bed.
"Why should I go? Nothing new about the things I see there."
"So you just don't go?" Kayleigh placed her hands on her hips and waited for James to actually show her his face or just appear from under the thick layer of blankets thrown over him.
"You got that right," James yawned and sat up on the bed, pushing away the covers and scratching through his hair with his eyes still not fully open.
Kayleigh sighed and opened the blinds, letting bright sunlight shine and lit up the whole room. James groaned at the light shining in his tired eyes and quickly buried himself back underneath the blankets again, looking for shelter.
"Breakfast is in the kitchen and I'm of to work so behave yourself while I'm out alright?"
"Wait...work? Since when do you work?" James shot up from his place under the covers and looked at Kayleigh with wide open eyes.
"Since, 18 months ago," Kayleigh shrugged, inspecting her nails and frowning at them for a bit.
"And how come I didn't know this?"
"Because you probably weren't paying attention," Kayleigh rolled her eyes, "now be a good boy today and don't burn the kitchen down."
"We need to renovate it anyway, it would save us some trouble," James muttered, getting out of the warm bed and stalking towards his pile of clothes stacked on the ever-present chair in the corner of his room.
After eating Breakfast, James found himself cleaning up his own mess and soon (much to his own surprise) he was vacuuming the living room. His ear caught the sound of knocking on the door but chose to ignore it as he sang to himself.
"Oi James! Since when don't you answer the door anymore when people knock?"
"Since we gave you your own damn key two years ago Mark, use it once in a while will you?"
Mark formed a small 'o' with his mouth before he sat down on the couch and looked at his brother vacuuming the carpet.
"So...why the apron?"
"I felt like it."
"James, it's an apron...with pink flowers."
"So what?"
"Why don't you just grow a pair of boobs too while you're at it."
"Well I can't help it if you're jealous of how good I look with it."
"Trust me James, you look ridiculous and I say that with all the love in the world," Mark held up his hands in front of his chest and hoped that his brother wouldn't start hitting him with a broom or something.
"There is nothing wrong with the apron Mark."
"It's pink."
"It's flashy pink!"
"No James, that's girly pink," Mark sighed.
"Whats the point of all of this anyway?" James threw his arms in the air.
"That you're cleaning your house with an apron."
"Next time, I'll wear a see-through raincoat alright? And then cut of your head with an axe, screaming at you and dancing on Huey Lewis."
"Bloody hell," Mark chuckled, "you definitely changed."
"In a good way, or a bad way?" James asked curious.
"In a pink way," Mark laughed, "but before, you wouldn't be caught dead wearing jeans you know? Always a suit, a tie and nicely combed hair."
James raised an eyebrow and then held a piece of his hair in front of his eyes so he could inspect it, clearly seeing that it wasn't combed yet as the curls were still too visible for it to be combed or washed.
“And now, it's the complete other way around, heh, what a difference a coma can make.”
“I like my hair like this,” James pouted.
“...you didn't wash it in almost 3 days James,” Mark sighed.
“I still like it,” James stuck out his tongue at his brother and looked smug.
“I'm having a hard time taking you serious with that pink apron though.”
“You love it.”
“I don't actually, all I can do right now is try to block the mental image of you with a pair of nice, big,-” Mark stopped when James hit him on the head, “-boobs,” Mark laughed and finished his sentence.
“You so need to get laid,” James growled.
“And you need to loose the apron,” Mark laughed, clutching his sides.
“You just want one for yourself.”
“What if I do?” Mark smirked.
James frowned and then walked over to the kitchen, Mark however, was too busy trying to stop laughing at his brother's appearance that he didn't notice James coming back with a second apron in his hand until he tossed it on his lap. It was an identical apron.
“You can stop being a lazy bum and help me,” James smirked.
By the time Kayleigh came home, she had never seen the house more clean than it was. Wondering what had happened, she started to search for James, half hoping that he had caved in after all and left for college, which would mean he wouldn't be home for another our. But instead, she found him sleeping on his bed, dressed in his clothes from the day before and a pink apron loose around his body with Mark laying down on his brothers chest, wearing a similar apron.
November 26 1997
Fourth Thursday of November, Thanksgiving. And for the first time, James was dragged off to celebrate it with his family in New Jersey, at least, for the first time since he woke up from that coma. He wasn't exactly looking forward to meeting the extended family, knowing that they didn't know about his change yet.
Chantal had managed to get him to wear a suit, something that made him feel so uncomfortable that he managed to convince her to leave out the tie. Just to feel more comfortable even though that was almost impossible.
“Tell me again why you're dragging me to this and we couldn't just do this at home?”
“Because, I'm not going to let you wallow in self-pity and stay home alone at Thanksgiving.”
“What makes you think I would be alone?”
“Kayleigh is with Steve and his family, Chantal is with her family and I would've been in this car on it's way to mom's without you, you would've been alone James.”
“I have Jack.”
“Jack?”
“Yeah, Jack,” James nodded, looking proud.
“Who the fuck is Jack?”
“My imaginary friend!”
“Oh dear...” Mark sighed.
“What?” James frowned, “Something wrong with Jack?”
“James, you're ... an adult, adults don't have imaginary friends,” Mark explained.
“Well I do!”
“You got to be kidding me,” Mark's hands gripped the wheel tightly, turning paler by the second as he was cutting of blood flow.
“Oh fuck yeah I am, I'm not that retarted.”
Mark sighed in relief and let go of the wheel bit by bit before focusing back on the road in front of him. This would be a long night.
"Aren't you supposed to be at college?" Kayleigh asked when she entered James' bedroom and poked the curled up lump on the bed.
"Why should I go? Nothing new about the things I see there."
"So you just don't go?" Kayleigh placed her hands on her hips and waited for James to actually show her his face or just appear from under the thick layer of blankets thrown over him.
"You got that right," James yawned and sat up on the bed, pushing away the covers and scratching through his hair with his eyes still not fully open.
Kayleigh sighed and opened the blinds, letting bright sunlight shine and lit up the whole room. James groaned at the light shining in his tired eyes and quickly buried himself back underneath the blankets again, looking for shelter.
"Breakfast is in the kitchen and I'm of to work so behave yourself while I'm out alright?"
"Wait...work? Since when do you work?" James shot up from his place under the covers and looked at Kayleigh with wide open eyes.
"Since, 18 months ago," Kayleigh shrugged, inspecting her nails and frowning at them for a bit.
"And how come I didn't know this?"
"Because you probably weren't paying attention," Kayleigh rolled her eyes, "now be a good boy today and don't burn the kitchen down."
"We need to renovate it anyway, it would save us some trouble," James muttered, getting out of the warm bed and stalking towards his pile of clothes stacked on the ever-present chair in the corner of his room.
After eating Breakfast, James found himself cleaning up his own mess and soon (much to his own surprise) he was vacuuming the living room. His ear caught the sound of knocking on the door but chose to ignore it as he sang to himself.
"Oi James! Since when don't you answer the door anymore when people knock?"
"Since we gave you your own damn key two years ago Mark, use it once in a while will you?"
Mark formed a small 'o' with his mouth before he sat down on the couch and looked at his brother vacuuming the carpet.
"So...why the apron?"
"I felt like it."
"James, it's an apron...with pink flowers."
"So what?"
"Why don't you just grow a pair of boobs too while you're at it."
"Well I can't help it if you're jealous of how good I look with it."
"Trust me James, you look ridiculous and I say that with all the love in the world," Mark held up his hands in front of his chest and hoped that his brother wouldn't start hitting him with a broom or something.
"There is nothing wrong with the apron Mark."
"It's pink."
"It's flashy pink!"
"No James, that's girly pink," Mark sighed.
"Whats the point of all of this anyway?" James threw his arms in the air.
"That you're cleaning your house with an apron."
"Next time, I'll wear a see-through raincoat alright? And then cut of your head with an axe, screaming at you and dancing on Huey Lewis."
"Bloody hell," Mark chuckled, "you definitely changed."
"In a good way, or a bad way?" James asked curious.
"In a pink way," Mark laughed, "but before, you wouldn't be caught dead wearing jeans you know? Always a suit, a tie and nicely combed hair."
James raised an eyebrow and then held a piece of his hair in front of his eyes so he could inspect it, clearly seeing that it wasn't combed yet as the curls were still too visible for it to be combed or washed.
“And now, it's the complete other way around, heh, what a difference a coma can make.”
“I like my hair like this,” James pouted.
“...you didn't wash it in almost 3 days James,” Mark sighed.
“I still like it,” James stuck out his tongue at his brother and looked smug.
“I'm having a hard time taking you serious with that pink apron though.”
“You love it.”
“I don't actually, all I can do right now is try to block the mental image of you with a pair of nice, big,-” Mark stopped when James hit him on the head, “-boobs,” Mark laughed and finished his sentence.
“You so need to get laid,” James growled.
“And you need to loose the apron,” Mark laughed, clutching his sides.
“You just want one for yourself.”
“What if I do?” Mark smirked.
James frowned and then walked over to the kitchen, Mark however, was too busy trying to stop laughing at his brother's appearance that he didn't notice James coming back with a second apron in his hand until he tossed it on his lap. It was an identical apron.
“You can stop being a lazy bum and help me,” James smirked.
By the time Kayleigh came home, she had never seen the house more clean than it was. Wondering what had happened, she started to search for James, half hoping that he had caved in after all and left for college, which would mean he wouldn't be home for another our. But instead, she found him sleeping on his bed, dressed in his clothes from the day before and a pink apron loose around his body with Mark laying down on his brothers chest, wearing a similar apron.
November 26 1997
Fourth Thursday of November, Thanksgiving. And for the first time, James was dragged off to celebrate it with his family in New Jersey, at least, for the first time since he woke up from that coma. He wasn't exactly looking forward to meeting the extended family, knowing that they didn't know about his change yet.
Chantal had managed to get him to wear a suit, something that made him feel so uncomfortable that he managed to convince her to leave out the tie. Just to feel more comfortable even though that was almost impossible.
“Tell me again why you're dragging me to this and we couldn't just do this at home?”
“Because, I'm not going to let you wallow in self-pity and stay home alone at Thanksgiving.”
“What makes you think I would be alone?”
“Kayleigh is with Steve and his family, Chantal is with her family and I would've been in this car on it's way to mom's without you, you would've been alone James.”
“I have Jack.”
“Jack?”
“Yeah, Jack,” James nodded, looking proud.
“Who the fuck is Jack?”
“My imaginary friend!”
“Oh dear...” Mark sighed.
“What?” James frowned, “Something wrong with Jack?”
“James, you're ... an adult, adults don't have imaginary friends,” Mark explained.
“Well I do!”
“You got to be kidding me,” Mark's hands gripped the wheel tightly, turning paler by the second as he was cutting of blood flow.
“Oh fuck yeah I am, I'm not that retarted.”
Mark sighed in relief and let go of the wheel bit by bit before focusing back on the road in front of him. This would be a long night.