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albinotanuki
Author of 13 Stories |
OOC: I know, I said I would write the rest of that Quest for Camelot fanfic, but I just don't have the inspiration to. Instead, I decided to do another Horton Hears a Who! fanfic.
Disclaimer: I do not own the movie or book, just this story.
A few months had passed since Whoville had been saved from becoming fried in a cauldron of beezlenut oil and if it weren't for Jojo breaking his years of silence to save the town, everyone would have inevitably died in a painful, burning death. Since that very day, however, he only spoke on occasion, but it was a vast improvement from his previous stark mutism. For Jojo, however, he didn't need words to communicate his feelings; he had his music.
As Jojo was polishing his whosophone, he looked at his reflection with a sense of pride. Whether it was a flute, guitar, or even a simple comb, Jojo was able to convey his inner emotions through the sound of the music he plays and writes. Though his parents would tease and say he had the loudest voice of any who, he found that his music spoke louder than his words ever could; if only he could have known HOW loud his music could speak.
Along with his whosophone, Jojo grabbed other knick-knacks for his music inventions in his observatory orchestra. He walked down the stairs and walked through the kitchen to the back door.
"Going to the observatory, Jojo?" his mother asked while washing dishes, as if she had eyes on the back of her head.
Jojo nodded to his mother as he went out the door with all his stuff and walked of to the observatory.
As he left, his father came into to help his wife with the dishes after reading an extra long bill.
"I noticed Jojo went out." said the mayor, taking a dish to wash.
"To the observatory as usual." Sally spoke, placing another dish in the pantry.
Thinking of Jojo, Ned sighed, "...You think he'll be okay up there?"
Sally laughed, putting another dish away, "Ned, I think the both of us know our own son well enough to know he'll take care of himself up there; he's been working up there for some time now. Besides, you know how teenagers are when you hover over their shoulders."
"I know but," Ned looked down, his scrubbing arm feeling limp, "ever since I realized how fragile life was living on a speck, I felt like I haven't been doing enough for the family, especially Jojo; he's just growing so far apart from us. If I'm not around when something bad happens-"
"Ned!" Sally took her husband's hand and looked at him "We're not going to be boiled in beezlenut oil." she smiled and kissed his forehead "Jojo's going to be okay."
Ned smiled. Sally was wise about her own family and if she said things were going to be fine, than she was probably right.
Jojo could hear a faint whistling sound in the orchestra, but it wasn't a flute or a pipe; when Jojo looked down, Jojo saw that the pressure cooker of his new invention had it steam valve plugged; he must've forgotten to unplug it, but if he didn't, his invention might explode and emit too much noise. Jojo tried swinging down to his invention as fast as as he could, but only to end up in the wrong place at the wrong time when he slid down a rope and, without thinking, swung in front of the giant horn. The horn burst with a loud, thundering bang that was so strong, the sheer power of the noise sent Jojo flying to the other side of the observatory, busting into a large timpani drum and knocking it over.
Ned was instantly in a panic.
"Jojo!"
The poor mayor stormed out the kitchen, not hearing his wife's cries to come back, but only the concern of his boy was flooding his mind as he ran closer to the observatory.
Bursting in through the cut-out door of the old, boarded up observatory door, Ned searched frantically for his son amongst the musical wreck, too frightened to see the massive dismemberment of
Jojo's musical inventions.
Suddenly, Ned could hear his son's moans being echoed from a giant timpani that had been knocked over and a small, Jojo sized whole in its drumhead. Ned ran and crawled into the timpani, seeing his son, limp, but slowly returning to consciousness. Ned scooped Jojo in his arms and shook him a bit to try to wake him up and save him. Jojo slowly opened his eyes and looked up at his father. Ned sighed in relief.
"Jojo, are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?-"
Jojo looked at his father with a bit of confusion; he could see his father's lips move frantically as if he was speaking in concern, but there were no words coming out. Was he actually SAYING anything? But then Jojo realized how much the inside of his ears were sore and there was a slight ringing in his head, but the ringing slowly turned to complete silence.
No matter how much Ned tried to ask if his son was okay, Jojo kept looking at him as if he was speaking some sort of foreign language; even when he tried to encourage his son to become mayor by telling him his stories in office, he would always seem to understand what he was saying (even when he didn't want to hear it).
"Jojo, whats the matter?"
Jojo couldn't understand what his father was saying, but he could see the concern in his eyes as he was checking him over.
Ned was a bit confused when Jojo kept pointing to his ears.
"Jojo, what are you- wait, you mean you can't...?"
Ned gasped in fear. He scooped his his son in his arms, ran out the observatory door and came bursting into their house.
"SALLY, CALL THE HOSPITAL! SOMETHING'S WRONG WITH OUR SON!"
