|Everybody Knows This is Nowhere
Author: Raiderette Levin PM
What do John Gage and a local LA hippy have in common? Apparently a lot more than one would think!Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Humor/Friendship - J. Gage - Chapters: 2 - Words: 1,266 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 3 - Published: 04-13-12 - id: 8022112
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Author's Note: Yes, I know, bad me, posting a new story when I already have ones that need to be finished. While going through my fan fiction archives, I found 2 chapters for this story, tweaked them, and decided to post. Please enjoy, but be forewarned, updates will probably be slow. Enjoy! :)
Dark-haired paramedic John Gage checked his watch as he stood in line. He knew it was the dinner rush, but this was a little ridiculous. He had been standing in line for more than ten minutes just to get some burgers and fries. He should have had dinner by then and been back at the station!
"Do you know Woody?"
Johnny turned around, searching for the unfamiliar voice that had spoken. He traced it to a longhaired young woman behind him wearing a granny dress. "You say something?"
"Yeah. Do you know Woody?" She was almost pretty; in fact, she was very pretty with the exception of the strange way she dressed and her unkempt hair.
"No, I don't."
"You don't? Crazy, man. You mean you've never run into him? You've gotta be putting me on." She smiled and studied him. "You mean you don't play guitar?"
He shook his head. "You must be thinking of somebody else."
"Don't play guitar?" She kind of laughed in a disbelieving way. "Crazy, man. You totally should."
Flattered, John cracked his knuckles and smiled. "Well, I've got to be honest, I've thought about it, but I don't think I could."
"Hold out your hands," she instructed. For an unknown reason, John obeyed. She studied them. "You've got nice, long fingers, man. You'd be a natural. Bet you can sing as angel-like as Crosby, Stills, and Nash."
He laughed nervously as the girl caressed his fingers. "The whole group?"
She nodded and dropped his fingers. "All combined, man."
"You don't say…" Johnny looked up to the ceiling, his mind brewing. He would like to play the guitar, and the pretty girl seemed to think that he could do it. But where was he going to get a guitar and the means of learning to play it?
"You think you could learn, man? I want you to play it." She placed a frail hand on his shoulder. "Tell you what, we should skip this joint and head down to a different burger shack. I'll give you my guitar; I'm no good at playing it. You could make it big."
"Make it…?" He didn't continue, but started laughing nervously. "Look, you seem like a nice girl, but I really doubt I'd be any good at playing. I mean let's face it, I'm no Neil Young."
The girl was insistent. She took John's hand and began pulling him out of the line and towards the door. "Neil Young… Yeah cat, you're catchin' on." She led him out into the parking lot and over to a battered yellow Volkswagen Bus. Beaded curtains hung in the windows and a funny odor was wafting out of the opened window.
She entered the back of the van and returned a few minutes later with a black guitar case. Handing it to the confused paramedic, she said, "There, man, it's all yours."
He studied the black case, somewhat excited. A free guitar? No, he couldn't accept it. "I really do appreciate this, but I can't accept this…" He offered it back, but the girl didn't take it.
"No way, man, it's yours, dig? It's a gift."
"And I do appreciate your generosity, but I don't accept such expensive gifts from strangers…"
"Nobody's a stranger, man, we're al brothers." She pulled the door open to her bus. "And come on; Let's go get those burgers."