|Why Rodney Hates Halloween: A McKay Halloween Tale
Author: IantojJackh PM
UPDATED FOR 2011: What happens to make this day even better for Rodney? Response to dwparsnip's Halloween Challenge of Rodney and a female companion. What happened to Rodney when he was 13 to make him hate the holiday that falls on October 31?Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Family/Humor - Rodney M. - Chapters: 3 - Words: 4,555 - Reviews: 10 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 11-02-11 - Published: 10-28-10 - Status: Complete - id: 6433889
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: I wasn't originally going to do this challenge since I'm doing a Halloween chapter for one of my other stories, but this is something I came up with today. It comes in a little long at 1019 words. This is unbetaed so errors are mine and mine alone. So here is my response to dwparsnip's Halloween Challenge.
Why Rodney Hates Halloween: A McKay Halloween Challenge Submission
The year was 1981 and a thirteen-year-old Rodney McKay frowned as he stood in the doorway as he watched his classmates enjoyed the Halloween party his parents forced him to attend. It was a bribe that if he went to the party they would allow him to continue to build his toys, as his parents liked to call them, in the garage. It was a nightmare; he hated them and they hated him. The socially inept teenager was given the nickname Roddy the terrorist ever since the incident with the atomic bomb the year before. To make matters worse he had a growth spurt and started going through puberty over the summer. Rodney had gone from a slightly chubby boy just under five feet to a lanky clumsy teenager that was several inches taller than his classmates. He swore he heard a few of the girls whisper his name and start to laugh. The angry teenager decided to not pay attention to the vile behavior of the prepubescent girls.
"Stupid. Catty bimbos. All of them," the frown grew. Rodney was lost in his own world of loathing when Helen Lorenzo, a cute girl with short blonde hair, approached him.
"Meredith, why don't you join us? We're about to play a game. You shouldn't stand there alone," Helen squeezed his arm. "Smile a little. It doesn't hurt." She stood behind Rodney and winked at the girls.
"I…what…no. What are you doing?" he reluctantly let himself be lead toward the group that consisted now of boys and girls. "What game are we playing?" Rodney was uncertain of what they were up to.
"Three minutes in Heaven," she said with a playful grin.
The boy looked nervous, "What's that?"
Helen laughed at the innocence, leaned over, and whispered the rules of the game.
Rodney's face dropped as it was described to him, but he quickly recovered. "That's nothing. There was this girl in Edmonton over the summer..." There was no girl over the summer unless you counted his grandmother's wet kisses to his cheek every morning. He still shivered at the revolting image.
"Why did you invite the terrorist to play?" One of the boys asked, but was nudged into silence by one of the girls.
Rodney rolled his eyes, "Your small brain can't come up with anything else?"
Each person went around and picked out pieces of paper from the bowl and when everyone was done picking, the people with the matching colors paired up.
"Looks like you are with me, Meredith," Helen sized the boy up. "Follow me," she slid her arm around his waist, fighting them urge to be sick. "Here is quiet enough." The two stopped in front of a closet door.
"The closet?" Rodney was confused. "Why in there?"
"It's quiet," the blonde temptress stood on her tippy toes and pressed her lips to his. Helen teased him for a few seconds with a tantalizing kiss before she shoved Rodney into the closest and slammed the door. "That will be the first and last kiss you will ever have. Hope you enjoyed it, terrorist."
Before Rodney could get the door opened one of the boys jammed a door under the knob so it could not be opened. "Come on, let me out," he whined. "This isn't funny." He fought with the door for ten minutes before giving up, knowing he was not going to get out anytime soon. The scared teenager cried to himself, not giving his tormentors the satisfaction of hearing his sobs. It was not until an hour later that he was rescued by Helen's older brother and Rodney did not look back as he ran from the house. From that day, Halloween would be a holiday to forget and loathe.
Morgan scrunched up her nose, "I don't get it, daddy. Why were they mean to you?" the young child did not understand the story except that the people were mean to her father.
Rodney looked at his four-year-old daughter and shrugged. It was not a story to tell such a young child, but she had asked why he did not like Halloween and once he started, it didn't stop. "They just were mean people."
"You're not going to get dressed with me and mommy? She said we could go trick treating tomorrow," she looked up at Rodney with the best sad eyes she could muster. "Please, daddy," Morgan pushed out her bottom lip as far as she could. "Pretty please," the child wrapped her arms around her father the best her tiny arms could. "I love you, daddy," she placed a big kiss on Rodney's cheek.
The father knew his daughter had him wrapped around her little finger, "Yes, I'll get dressed up too." Moments like this made Rodney forget about that horrid Halloween party.
"You're the best daddy ever," Morgan gave Rodney an extra tight hug.
"Anything for you, baby girl. Now, it's off to bed for you," he picked the girl up and carried her to her bed. After tucking Morgan in and giving her a goodnight kiss, Rodney left the child's room and left the door open slightly in case she needed her parents during the night.
"Why did you tell Morgan that story?" Jennifer slapped Rodney's arm as soon as he turned around. It was the first time she had heard the story and she was mad for him telling such an inappropriate story to a four year old, but she was also sad that happened to him.
"She asked me why I didn't like Halloween. I wasn't going to tell her, but she kept on asking and I caved. Morgan was pouting. How can I fight that?"
"Easy. Say no," she knew it was hard for Rodney to say no to their daughter once she started pouting. Morgan was definitely a daddy's girl.
"What are we dressing as again?" Rodney knew his wife had told him, but he wasn't really paying attention.
"You are Oscar the Grouch. I'll be Cookie Monster and Morgan will be Abby Cadabby."
"The Grouch? Seriously?" he asked with a whine. "That's not right."
End A/N: This is the same Morgan who toasted her parents in the McKeller Flash Fiction piece. This could be just one of the many little stories in her happy childhood. The female companion could either be the nasty Helen or the adorable child.