Magic Knight Rayearth Fan Fiction ❯ The Man Who Fell to Earth ❯ Something Fishy ( Chapter 4 )

CHAPTER 4:

Something Fishy

 

 

The drive back to the Templeton Ranch took about an hour, and Scott mentioned that it was the normal travel time back and forth to the city. On the way out of town, the scenery changed to accommodate more trees and small hills for hiking. It had an almost serene feeling about it, and Harry could see the appeal of putting a home or private school there.

 

When they arrived safely, Harry was assisted into a wheelchair by Steve, and the two went into the main building to find his room. Meanwhile, Scott went off to report to his parents.

 

“We were thinking you'd like it better in here,” Steve explained while he pushed the chair. “Besides, you're closer to the kitchens and entertainment this way.”

 

“What kind of entertainment do you have here?” he asked.

 

The other man chuckled. “I was meaning entertainment of the more spontaneous variety. After all, this is the central hub of activity indoors. You get the ring-side view of food fights, teenage angst, arguments, and any number of small dramas. It's like reality TV without the television.”

 

Steve screwed up his face comically as if in painful thought. “I think it's called… reality.”

 

“How exciting,” Harry said in quiet sarcasm. “I've heard too much reality can kill a man. Maybe I'd do better in a quiet, out of the way place.”

 

“We can do that, too,” answered Steve as he entered the room that had been chosen for him.

 

The room was in an isolated hall just off the kitchens and dining room. The furnishings were sparse with a bed, wooden chair, night table with lamp and an armoire for his clothing, not that he really had any, and a bookshelf for any personal items. It was a simple place in a very Scandinavian style with glowing wood that gave it a warm, likable tone.

 

“So, we'll be getting to know each other rather well because I get to put you through your paces.”

 

Harry had been staring out the small window of his room and then fixed his gaze on Steve. “So you're going to treat me like a racehorse?”

 

Seeing the horses out the window in the far distance, Steve laughed. “Smart one, are you? Well, if you can get your leg muscles up to snuff as fast as you can your mouth, you will be fine in no time.”

 

“Thanks,” he said with a smile. He had a feeling he was going to like Steve.

 

“Look, one of the things I do with the older kids is weight lifting. It helps improve their self-esteem and body image. Male bonding type stuff,” he added with a grunting sound reminiscent of Tim “the Tool-Man” Taylor. “You'll need the upper body strength anyway, so you getting out with the kids might kill two birds with one stone.”

 

“And those two birds would be…?”

 

“You get strengthened, and they get a positive role model. They could have someone to look to for inspiration.” With mock tears, Steve said, “It chokes me up to think about it.”

 

Harry shook his head at Steve and laughed.

 

“So,” he continued with a loud hand clap, “all this discussion has made me hungry. Let's go have lunch and meet the rest of the people. From the rumor I heard, Umi made you a cake.”

 

“Scott mentioned that,” he said with an expression that was a cross between interested curiosity and worry. “Is that a good thing?”

 

“Most of the time it is. She can cook a mean cake, but otherwise the girl is hopeless in the kitchen.”

 

The two men made to leave to the dining room, but they went at a slow pace because one was using crutches and the other was standing guard to make sure he didn't topple over.

 

-&-

 

Harry got settled at a table with Steve, and Scott and his parents came over to join them. He cast his eyes around the room to find his blue-eyed angel and noticed that she was not there. Umi might have been in the kitchens with the purported cake, but he couldn't help feeling disappointment because he'd really wanted to see her. He quickly squashed that down when he looked over to Scott's smiling face. From what he could tell, he was a nice guy.

 

Patricia Templeton sat by Harry and made pleasant conversation, telling him about the ranch as a whole and her work there as the students' guidance counselor. After they'd eaten most of their lunch, she said, “I have something for you, dear.”

 

She reached into her handbag and pulled out a black, leather-bound book and a fancy fountain pen. She slid the items beside him, while wearing an expression similar to the cat that swallowed the canary.

 

Without speaking, he took the book and thumbed through it, noticing the blank lines on each page. “There's nothing in it,” he said.

 

“It's like you,” she said in a motherly tone. “You might not be sure of your identity, but this can help. Write down any dreams you have to see if there's a pattern. Even the small things that don't make any sense to you now might start forming a pattern when you look at them from a different view. Write down thoughts, impressions, feelings, opinions—whatever you need. Sometimes an identity is only a name, but a man's character? That is a unique thing!”

 

“It's a diary,” he said, not sure he liked the idea of doing something that was perceived as being so juvenile.

 

Patricia humorously put her hand on his forehead. “Nope, you're not a girl from what I can tell. So, you don't have to call it a diary if that's too girly for you. Even the great explorers kept journals of their travels. In this case, the uncharted territory is your own self.”

 

“Thank you,” he answered, sorry that he'd not been too impressed with the present before she explained its purpose.

 

“You might discover you're a poet,” Richard said from his side of the table.

 

“Or that I'm illiterate,” Harry said as he frowned into the blank pages.

 

“I doubt that,” Patricia said, putting her hand lightly on his shoulder.

 

He turned his upper body so he could better look at her. “Do you have other children besides Scott?”

 

“Tons!” she replied with a twinkle in her eyes, “but Scott is the only one I delivered.”

 

“I'm an only child,” Scott interjected, but Harry wasn't concentrating on him.

 

“You're a very kind woman, Mrs. Templeton, very mothering. I have a feeling I don't have a mother like that, or that maybe she's dead or somehow unreachable,” he said while still looking only at her.

 

She nodded and smiled at him encouragingly. “Good, good! Write that down in your journal. It's your first impression. Maybe someday, hopefully soon, we'll know if your hunch was right.”

 

Patricia uncapped the pen and held it out temptingly. Harry took it and wrote quickly on the first page of the journal the fleeting impression of his mother that he'd just had. When he was satisfied as being done for the moment, he nodded and said aloud, “I guess I'm not illiterate after all.”

 

“I think it should be time for dessert,” Steve finally spoke to the group at large.

 

“Ah, yes,” Harry responded with interest, “I heard some particular gossip when I came here. There were allegations about a cake being made by Miss Ryuuzaki, but from the emptiness of the dessert plates, that information has not been confirmed.”

 

“Let's fix that,” Scott said, leaning in with an impish gleam in his eyes. “Umi! We're ready for you!”

 

The young woman who had been missing most of the morning made her appearance slowly walking out from the kitchens toward them with a round bundt cake held high by both hands. The cake had sugar and spices on it, but no traditional frosting. It was festive enough, though, that it could have been a birthday cake.

 

Umi came near the table and placed the confection in front of him with a knife and fork for cutting. It was then when she was so near that he noticed she was still wearing her cooking apron and was otherwise a mess. Flour was over her face and clothing, and her hair was in disarray. To Harry, Umi looked simply adorable.

 

With the cutting knife in hand, Harry made slices for his four table companions. He was about to make a fifth for Umi, but she declined.

 

“You know, we shouldn't trust a cook, or in your case, a baker, who won't sample her own food!” he joked in hopes that she'd be willing to sit down with them.

 

“Help yourself. I'll come right back. I just have to get something from the kitchen,” she said as she retreated.

 

He portioned his piece with a disappointed sigh and sat down to eat. When he tasted the cake, the wait was worth it. It was just the right amount of sweetness without being too overly sweet. When the others at the table quickly ate their pieces, he saw evidence of their opinions being the same as his.

 

He didn't have long to wonder about Umi's absence. The relative peace at the table was disturbed by an angry woman's voice shouting, “Give me that!”

 

After that was the unmistakable sound of a child's taunting musical call. The child, about nine years old, he guessed, ran into the dining room with Umi close on his heels. Before he could run in circles around the many tables, she snatched a small glass bowl with a multi-colored fish out of his hands.

 

Umi glared daggers at the boy who'd taken the fish away from her, and only when she looked over to the table with the Harry, Steve and the Templetons did her expression change. She tried to calm herself and walk back to them in a dignified manner.

 

“This is for you,” she said breathlessly as she handed Harry the jar with the fish.

 

The fish was light lavender and dark purple. It had big, beautiful fins and looked perfectly happy swimming in its bowl despite being the object of a recent chase. The flat, shimmering rocks at the bottom of the container seemed only to emphasize how beautiful the fish was.

 

“Betta splendens,” Scott whistled appreciatively. “It's a step-up from a mere goldfish.”

 

After staring at it a while, blue eyes looked to blue. “Thank you, Umi.”

 

The smile that lighted her eyes left him feeling breathless.

 

“I thought he'd brighten up your room since there's not much else there right now,” Umi explained.

 

“You should name him,” Steve suggested.

 

“I've never named a fish. At least I don't think I have!” Harry laughed as he looked at his new pet again.

 

Umi's lips pressed together in a line before she suggested. “How about naming him Fyula?”

 

He looked at her through the fringe of his hair, mouthing the name Fyula. After a bit of contemplation, he nodded. “I like it.”

 

“I thought you would,” Umi said as she eyed him and nibbled on the tip of her finger.

 

“Is that a Japanese name?” he asked her politely as he placed the fishbowl near him on the table.

 

She shook her head from side to side. “No, it's not Japanese. A friend of mine,” she explained with a significant look to Harry only, “used to have a fish named Fyula.”

 

“I'll treasure him. Thank you,” he said again, offering a shy smile of his own.

 

“Excuse me,” Steve said as he stood up. “I am off to the kitchen to get the coffee pot. You sit down, Umi. I'll be right back,” he said to everyone else.

 

The light conversation at the table went on while Steve left to get his fix of after lunch coffee.

 

-&-

 

After he'd prepared a cup for himself, Steve savored a drink alone in the kitchen. Before he could leave and bring the pot to the others in the dining room, he was stopped by a very excited Jessie.

 

“Are you doing his physical therapy?” she asked as she stared around the corner at the newcomer Harry.

 

“Sure am,” he answered while studying her.

 

“He's so pretty,” she sighed dreamily while looking at the lavender-haired man.

 

“Yeah, he is,” Steve admitted. “Didn't you see him in the hospital?”

 

“No,” she said with wide eyes. “I went to see Umi and Scott once, but I didn't see him.”

 

They both watched the man in question until Jessie asked playfully, “Do you need any help in his rehabilitation? Maybe I could help him with his lips.”

 

Steve sighed at her. He knew what was coming next, and it was best to just let her speak and get it out of the way.

 

“He looks like he seriously needs to be kissed! In fact, it's just perfect,” she squealed with glee. “He broke his leg, so he can't run away!”

 

“Ha, ha, Jessie,” he said in a flat voice.

 

“Well, if he had a girlfriend or a boyfriend,” she said with a slight shrug, “it's not like he'd remember it right now. I'll just have to give him some new memorable moments.”

 

“Yeah, he's easy on the eyes,” Steve said after a moment of assessing Harry. “And don't look at me like that, Jessie. I'm comfortable enough in my own manhood to say it, thank you very much. Are you really going to try to get with that one?”

 

“Why not?” she asked rhetorically. “With all this Umi and Scott love going around, it kind of makes a person feel lonely in comparison, you know?”

 

“So… what? He makes your thighs tremble with anticipation?” They'd been close enough friends that Steve knew he could tease her this way.

 

“It's a little higher than my thighs, actually,” she said huskily while looking longingly at the other man.

 

Steve put his arm around Jessie to give her a hug of encouragement. “Come on, killer. Let's go meet Mr. Blue Eyes.”