The Story Of Ralph Raccoon 6

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So after Chapter 5, here is Chapter 6. Here we still have Ralph firmly in denial of his developing feelings for Melissa (deny it all you want, Ralph, but Bert can see right through it!). And, Ralph visiting George and his family, because, well, I figured it would be nice to have a chapter featuring them. With younger, elementary school student Lisa and toddler Bentley.

Legal Disclaimer and Crap: I don't own the Raccoons or any of the rights to anything mentioned in this story except my own characters…Blah blah. Instead, I will share an amusing (though your mileage may vary) quote from one of George Carlin's books:

"When he got loaded, the human cannonball knew there were not very many men of his caliber."

That was totally lame, I admit, but it was much better than repeating the same garbage from chapter 1 over and over again, wasn't it?

CHAPTER SIX: The Message From The Country

Some time had passed. I thought if I'd slept on it, those words from the past few days would no longer bother me.

But they hadn't. All those thoughts were still bugging me and gnawing away at me. Melissa had acted very oddly around me. I had no clue whether she actually liked me or if she was being overly friendly. I still had no idea what I thought about her.

"What does your heart tell you Ralph?"

I still could not satisfactorily answer those words. Why, oh why, did Bert have to ask me that question?

One weekend, Bert and I were sitting on our couch, watching television. It happened to a favorite game show of Bert's, The Price Is Wrong.

"Alright, Jerry, show us what our contestant could win today!" said Bob Barkley, the canine host of the show.

"It's…a new car!" Sure enough, out rolled a brand new car, a 1982 Ford T-bird.

"And, show him what else he can win…" I was barely paying attention to the show at all. Bert was, as he thoroughly enjoyed watching game shows such as this.

The words were going through my head again.

"I never had a friend that close. But I think I have one now-you."

Ugh. I couldn't even focus properly-I was just lost in thought, the words repeating themselves over and over again.

"No!" Bert shouted. "That's not a good guess. Bid higher! Bid higher! Don't you think that's a bad bid, Ralph?"

"Huh?" I said, not really listening.

"Ralph, you okay?"

"Huh?"

"Are you alright? You've been acting really weird lately, Ralphie. Something the matter?"

He'd noticed.

"Oh, nothing Bert. I've just been thinking a lot, is all."

"Thinking about what?"

"About…stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Nothing important." I didn't want to talk to him right now.

"C'mon, Ralph, you don't need to be so secretive."

I sighed. "Okay then, Bert."

He looked at me, with a bit of a concerned look on his face.

"Now come on. What's the matter, Ralphie?"

"I don't really know."

"Does this have anything to do with Melissa, by any chance?"

I sighed again. "Yes, it does."

I thought Bert might hassle me about her like he had been doing, but for once, he didn't.

"Tell me what's wrong."

"Bert, I've been thinking about all this stuff that's been going on the past days. I don't know what to do. I can't tell if she likes me or not, and I can't tell if I do or not. I'm not sure of anything."

Bert stared me straight in the eye.

"Love is such a confusing thing, isn't it?"

"Most definitely. I don't understand it at all." I really didn't.

"I wish I could help ya out there, pal," Bert said, "but I'm no expert on the subject either."

"Figured as much," I said jokingly, "you've never been able to keep a girlfriend for more than a few weeks."

"Well, I suppose that's because I'm not in any hurry to settle down yet."

"Oh, so you're in it for the-?" Bert interrupted me.

"Maaaaaybe." That had been exactly what I thought.

"I see."

"Seriously, though, to be honest, I don't think any of them were right for me. I'm not even sure I've ever actually been in love before."

"Never?" I was a little surprised.

"Not that I can think of," Bert said. "Maybe someday, but no worry. I'm not in any hurry." He'd end up finding the right one someday, alright-a lot closer than he'd think! But you already know that story.

"I just don't know, Bert. I just don't know."

"I know someone who might be able to help you out with that."

"Who would that be?" I didn't know anybody right off-hand who could help me-my father would probably laugh at me, I couldn't ask Mike Mulligan because he was Melissa's father, and I couldn't ask Melissa herself because, well…

"Your brother."

"George?" I asked.

"Yeah. He's married with kids, isn't he?"

"Yes, Bert, but how will be able to help?"

"Aren't you planning on trying to visit him real soon?"

I was. I'd been saving up money for a while to visit George and his family, and I finally had enough to pay for a train to where he lived, the capital city of Ottawa. (He had moved around many, many times already, partially due to the fact he was never able to hold down a job at a restaurant for long.)

"Yes, but so?"

"Ralph, you could discuss this with George. He's married for one; he would know more about this than I would."

Bert had a point for once.

But, I still had no clue what I even felt about Melissa. I was fairly certain (after all that thinking) that she probably had a little something for me, but I certainly didn't know if I had that something for her, too.

"Bert, I don't even know if I like her."

"Stop being in denial, Ralph, you know you like her."

"I'm not in denial."

Bert snorted. "Yes, you are."

I was pretty sure I wasn't. Was I? Maybe I wasn't so sure.

I decided to save this conversation for when I got to Ottawa.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A week passed, and Bert, Melissa, and I had gone fishing again the next weekend. (Once again, Cedric didn't come-his father must have REALLY lost a bunch of money at Indy.) None of us caught anything outstanding, but it was still a good time. The only other real difference was that she didn't ask me to have dinner with her this time. So I ended up eating Bert's "peanut butter pizza" that he had proudly invented. I had had better.

The next day, I had to get up early to catch the train. This train would take me to Ottawa; it would be a long ride. I had taken a couple weeks off from work (Mr. Lassater was a nice guy, so he didn't really have a problem with it) for this trip. It was about 8:30 AM when the train arrived. I paid the fare and got on board the train. This would be a long trip.

I had brought a few books and newspapers along with me so the ride wouldn't be so dull and boring. I was reading through the World Times magazine, reading an article that Clay Rutherford had written about his trip to Africa, complete with accompanying photographs. It was a fascinating article, but to be honest, I had no desire to visit Africa. It wasn't long, though, before I ended up putting my magazine down and ended up failing asleep.

The train made a few stops along the way-it was a three day trip.

On the third day, I woke up from another nap (I napped a LOT over those three days) as the train was almost to Ottawa-only an hour or so away. I couldn't remember what I'd dreamt about at all, but I had a feeling it had something to do with Melissa. Why could I never remember my good dreams? I always seemed to only remember my bad dreams or my more bizarre ones.

A little over an hour later, the train pulled into the station and it was time for us to depart the train. I had written a letter to George telling him that I'd be coming ahead of time, and I anticipated him waiting for me at the station. When I got off the train, I couldn't find him at first. There were a lot of people crowded about the station platform and I was finding myself quickly getting lost.

"Dammit," I said to myself. "I've been in the city for just a few minutes and I'm already lost-on the platform, no less."

How sad was that?

Then I saw him in the crowd. He called out to me.

"Well, well, if it isn't my little brother, Ralph!" George waved at me.

"Long time, no see, big brother!" I shouted.

George tackled me playfully.

"I've been waiting a while to do that," he said, laughing.

"So, how's life in Ottawa been?" I asked him.

"It's been pretty good, Ralph. But I think we can talk more on the way back to my apartment. C'mon."

George led me to his car. It was-get this-a 1975 AMC Gremlin.

"George, you still have this hunk of junk?" I said laughing. He'd driven this car to my high school graduation.

"Hey, don't knock the Gremlin. I think this is a great car, I'll never understand why it's always getting trashed by automotive experts."

"Whatever you say, George." I said, rolling my eyes. We both got into the car. "But if I may be honest, this is one ugly ride. No offense."

"She may be ugly, yes, but she gets the job done. Can you argue against that?"

"Hmm, no, I guess I can't. But perhaps you should think about getting a new car sometime in the near future."

"Oh, I will, someday, but only when this baby gives out." George loved this car, so it would be very hard to convince him to give it up.

"What do you drive, Ralph?"

"An Oldsmobile-or at least I did. It was too expensive for me to keep, so I sold it. I now have a bicycle."

George laughed. "Hah! A bicycle. Not very stylish, are we?"

"No," I admitted, "but it's at least environmentally friendly."

"If that's your thing, good for you," George replied.

Soon, we got back to George's apartment.

"So this is where you live, George?"

"Yes, for now at least. I keep bouncing around from job to job and we have to move. I'm not a terrible chef, I swear I'm not. I just have trouble getting along with my bosses and I end up getting fired for it. I moved here about half a year ago. We were living all the way out in Halifax."

"I remember that, you wrote saying you'd lost your job there and had to move again. It has to be rough on your wife and the kids, not being able to stay in one place for very long."

"I know, I really want to be able to settle down somewhere and not have to move. Hey! Maybe this time it'll work out." George sounded hopeful.

"Have you considered being your own boss?" I just brought that up out of the blue.

"Hmm. Not a bad idea. I'll have to consider that someday," he said, unaware that that would indeed come true someday.

I took a look at the wall. There was some graffiti next to the door. "George, who exactly is Kilroy?" The graffiti had a raccoon with a bent nose (much like Bert and my brother) peering over a wall. Below that, it said "KILROY WAS HERE".

"Oh, that?" George said. "I don't know who Kilroy is, but whoever he is, he must be a pretty smart young man. He's been striking all over the city. Actually, I heard he's been striking for decades. Since the second World War, in fact. I have no clue who he is or who he could possibly be, but he sure does manage to show up everywhere. I woke up one morning and this was right next to my door. He must have struck while I was asleep."

I'd heard of this Kilroy graffiti before, but I had no idea that that was still somewhat popular. "I'll say. What are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing, I suppose. It's rather unique, actually-I sort of like it."

"Suit yourself."

"Why don't we come in, my wife and kids have been expecting you."

"Alright then." George knocked on the door. Nicole opened it and answered with her trademark French accent.

"Ah, bonjour, Ralph!" She shook my paw.

"Bonjour to you too, Madame," I said.

"It haz been a long trip, haz it not?" She asked.

"Oh yes. That was a long train ride. Though I slept most of the way."

"I underztand. Train ridez can be so boring."

"You're telling me," I said.

Lisa then came running up.

"Uncle Ralph!" She said, grabbing me and hugging me, "It's been so long since I've seen you!" She was about 8 years old then.

"Little Lisa," I said, hugging her back, "you're right, it has been too long. Last time I saw you, you were just a tiny little thing. You're really growing up!"

"You noticed, Uncle Ralph?"

"Sure did. Say, the last time I saw you, you had gotten a basketball. You said you'd be practicing with it. How's it been going?"

"It's been going great!" She smiled. "I practice every chance I get. Someday, I'd like to play for my school's basketball team! If I can stay in one city long enough."

"Let's hope that happens," I said, smiling.

A little tiny kit came wandering up towards me. "U-uncle Walphie?"

"Ah, you must be Bentley!" I said, as he jumped towards me into my arms.

"Uncle Walphie," he said. "Daddy told me about you!"

"Bentley, the last time I saw you, you were just a baby." He was just shy of three years old now.

"I've been gwowing up into a big boy," Bentley said. "Daddy says it won't be much longer until I go to school."

Bentley reminded me of myself when I was three years old.

"Are you excited for school, Bentley?"

"Uh-uh. I'm scawed," he said. "What if the other kids don't like me?"

"Bentley," I said, "I was just like you when I was your age."

"You were my age?" Bentley said, honestly surprised.

"I sure was. Your dad was too, believe it or not."

"Really?"

"I definitely was," George said. "Wow, that was….a long time ago. I can't believe it's been that long."

"Is school scawy, Uncle Walphie?"

"Oh yes, it can be," I said, speaking from personal experience. "But it's not as scary as you think it is. It might be scary at first, but it will get better. That's until you get to high school-but you'll find out about it someday."

"High school?" Bentley was a little confused.

"Son, you'll find out about that someday. But that will be many years away. You will have plenty of time before then," George said.

"Okay, Daddy." Bentley said.

"Come on Ralph," George said. "Let's sit down and watch some TV. We have some catching up to do."

"We sure do," I replied emphatically.

"So let's crack open some nice cold brews and catch up," he said, laughing.

"Sure thing." I rarely ever drank (as I never had much of a big taste for alcohol, unlike my father), but this felt like a semi-appropriate time to do so, so I did.

We chatted for a while. Eventually, George started telling a joke.

"So there's this joke going around my workplace," he said, "care to hear it?"

"I suppose so," I answered, "let's see how bad this one is."

"Okay, so this British monastery has fallen upon hard times, and they're short on money."

"Okay, I got you so far."

"So the monks decide to open up their very own fish-and-chips restaurant."

"Why would they open up a restaurant? Wouldn't that cost more money that they didn't have?" This didn't seem to make sense so far.

"I can't tell you that," George said, grinning, "but anyways, they have their restaurant ready for the grand opening. In comes this visitor."

"Yeah," I said, "and what does he see?"

"He sees two of the monks working in the kitchen. One of them is frying the fish, and the other is slicing and dicing the potatoes."

"And then what?"

"Well, he asks the monks, 'Pardon me for being rude, but what are you doing?' The monk frying the fish says, 'Oh. I am the friar, and he is the chip monk!' Hah-hah! Get it?"

I didn't think this joke was particularly funny (I thought it was in a bit of poor taste), but I chuckled anyway to be polite. "Heh heh. Funny joke there. Little bit of chef humor, correct?"

"Of course," George said. "Say, I'd chat more but it's almost dinner time. What would you like, Ralphie?"

"It doesn't matter to me, anything sounds good right now. I haven't anything since the breakfast they gave us on the train this morning."

"How's about some burgers? They're an old specialty of mine. I used to work in a fast food restaurant, heh heh." I remembered, he'd worked at one when I was a kid.

"Sounds great to me!"

George fixed up some dinner and I ate with his family.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Soon, it was time to head to bed.

"I have to go to work early in the morning tomorrow, Ralph. I took today off; the boss said if I take two days off in a row, he'll hang me up on the wall by the tail." His boss did not sound like a nice guy, at all.

"Where am I going to sleep, George?"

"On the couch?" He wasn't sure.

"No, that's too uncomfortable."

"Erm….let me think. Oh, I know! You can share Bentley's room. I have a big bed there for when he gets bigger. Bentley sleeps in a small bed for now, you can have the big bed."

That was a little odd, but I decided not to question him; I'd take any place to sleep that I could. "Alright, George. See you tomorrow." I was getting ready for bed.

"No problem, little brother." George waved as he went to his bedroom.

I climbed into the big bed in Bentley's room. Bentley was already tucked into his little bed in the corner. He was asleep, but woke up when he came in.

"Daddy…?" he said, curious.

"No, Bentley, it's your Uncle Ralphie."

"Uncle Walphie? What are you doing in my bedwoom?"

"Well, your dad's said that I ought to sleep in here."

"In my woom? With me?"

"Yes, Bentley."

"Gee….I don't know…." the kid said, a little nervous.

"Don't worry, nothing bad will happen Bentley. It's only for a couple of days, until I go back home a couple of days from now."

"Awe you suwe?" Bentley asked.

"It'll be fine, Bentley."

"Okay, Uncle Walphie." He laid back down and went to sleep.

I also laid down, but had a bit of trouble going to sleep. Once again, all those thoughts had started going through my head.

"What does your heart tell you, Ralph?"

You know, the same thoughts as before. Once again I found myself thinking of Melissa.

Then I remembered Bert's other words:

"You could discuss this with George. He's married for one; he would know more about this than I would."

I thought to myself, Bert is right. Maybe I should speak to George about this tomorrow-after he gets off work, of course.

I eventually drifted off to sleep.

The next day, I helped Nicole babysit the children. Lisa was busy reading a book (that she'd been assigned to read for the summer, as both of the children were out of school). I was helping Bentley play with his toy blocks.

"What are you trying to build, Bentley?"

"A castle. When I gwow up, I want to be a knight." He didn't have a computer yet (there weren't any available for the home market yet, at least, I don't think there were). So this was his childhood dream.

"A knight? That will take a lot of work, Bentley. Do you think you can do it?"

"Suwe! My daddy says I can be anything when I gwow up, if I wowk hawd enough!"

"Well, Bentley, I'm sure you'll be the best knight there ever was." I knew that he wasn't going to be a knight when he grew up, but I felt like reassuring him; unlike some cold-hearted people out there, I didn't want to crush the kid's dreams. I figured the world would do a good enough job of that...

"I will twy, Walphie!"

It wasn't much longer before George came home from work.

Nicole greeted him.

"Bonjour, mon mari," she said, kissing him as she greeted him. "So how waz your day?"

"It was a crazy one, dear," George said, laughing. "You won't believe it, but Freddie blew up a chicken in the stove. There were pieces everywhere and we had to scrape them off the floor, walls, and the inside of the stove."

"Soundz like quite a day, honey. Zay, Didn't you zay that Freddie iz working on borrowed time?"

"Oh yes, honey. Freddie's an alright guy, but he is a terrible chef. He's always trying shortcuts. I wouldn't be surprised to see him get fired in the near future. I think he might need to switch careers-and pronto!"

Freddie Crawford was a co-worker of George's at the restaurant he worked at at this time-and he was, well, incompetent, to say the least. I'd heard about him in George's letters, and George didn't quite understand how exactly he still had a job.

"Sounds like a lot of fun, George." I said.

"Sure, if you like cleaning up after someone else's mess!" He said, chuckling to himself.

George sat down next to me on the couch as we watched a major league baseball game. The Mammoth Mudhens were playing against the New York Yankees. The Yankees were number 2 in the American League ranks, behind the Mudhens. It was the bottom of the seventh inning, and the Mudhens were down 4-3.

"C'mon Mudhens!" George cheered, pulling for his favorite team. "Beat those Yankees! I'm tired of them always winning the World Series, it should be our turn for once! Let's get 'em and get one step closer to that title! It should be ours!"

I wasn't as enthusiastic. I'd remembered Bert's words.

I figured I might as well discuss this with George.

"George, I've been meaning to discuss something with you."

"Ah, what is it little brother? Come on, we can discuss anything. Is something troubling you?"

"Yes. There is this girl I know…"

"A girl?" George slapped me on the back. Sometimes, he could be just like Bert (I sometimes wondered if Bert and I had been switched at birth). "Atta boy, Ralph. I heard all about those problems you had with them in high school, it's about time something finally went your way in the dating department."

"Yeah, but, we're not dating. I think she likes me. But…I don't know what I feel about her."

"If you don't mind, I'd like to hear this whole story."

"Okay." I told George everything.

"Well, for one, Melissa definitely likes you, Ralph. There's no ifs, ands, or buts about it-she likes you. Trust me, brother; Nicole was the same way when I met her."

"Yes, but, as I said, George, I don't know what I feel about her."

"Going by what you've told me, you probably like her back but you're scared to admit it. You're worried you'll drive her off."

"I do like her?" I couldn't be sure if he was telling the truth or not.

"You'll have to look inside yourself to know that for sure, but you probably do. I can't speak for sure, I am not you, but I have a good feeling you do."

"Oh."

"You remind me a lot of myself when I was younger. Nicole acted sort of like that when I met her when I was working in Quebec-Lisa, stop bouncing that basketball inside the house! Your mother doesn't like it, and neither do I!"

Lisa was indeed bouncing a basketball around in the house.

"Sorry, Dad. I didn't know it bothered you." She put down the basketball and went back to reading her book.

"So what did you do, George? You never told me the full story." He hadn't-I'd been there when they'd gotten married, but I had no clue how the two of them had even met.

"I was just like you, doubting myself, thinking it was just my imagination, in denial-but then I realized it and asked her out in a heartbeat. Sure enough, she said yes."

"Ah. Then what happened? You got married and lived happily ever after?"

"Sort of. You see, our relationship got pretty…heated. I ended up not using protection and got her knocked up after we'd been dating for a while." I cringed again. That was the second person who had told me something like this in the past month. Did nobody use condoms?

"George, I…did not really want to know that."

"Oh, sorry. Sorry."

"No, it's alright, do go on."

"Well, anyways, that's how Lisa was conceived. We had to get married to avoid having an illegitimate child. Bentley was sort of an accident too, I hadn't planned on having another kid, but sure enough, along he came."

"So that's your story…" I felt I knew a lot more about my brother now, although I was still a little…disturbed that nobody seemed to know what protection was.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Soon, it was time for me to head back home.

It was late at night and George was getting ready to take me back to the train station to head back home to the Evergreen Forest.

"See you some other time, Ralph," Nicole said. "It'z been great having you here for a few days."

"I agree, it was a nice few days," I said.

"I'll miss you, Uncle Ralph," Lisa said, hugging me goodbye. "I wish you lived closer to us so we could see you more often."

"Maybe someday, you will," I said to her.

Bentley came to me.

"Uncle Walphie, I wish you didn't have to leave. I might never see you again," he said, sounding like he was about to cry. I had played with him a lot over the past few days, it was obvious he'd grown a bit attached to me and didn't want to see me go.

"Of course we'll see each other again, Bentley," I said, trying to reassure him.

"How can I know?" he asked, worried.

"You'll know," I said.

"Hey," George said. "I know. Maybe I can send Bentley over to stay with you for a few weeks in the summer when he gets bigger?"

"That's a good idea, George," I said. "It'll do the kid some good to spend some time in the Forest."

"Bye, Uncle Walphie." Bentley waved as we left.

"See you later, uncle." Lisa also waved.

"Take care, Ralph," my sister-in-law said.

"Bye, hope to see you again soon," I said. I was going to miss them.

George drove me in his Gremlin to the train station.

"Well, Ralph. It's been great seeing you again. I really value these visits, it's a shame we don't get to see each other more often. I'd do something about it, but, what can I do?"

"Maybe someday you could move to the Evergreen Forest?" That was mostly just wishful thinking, though.

"Ah, who knows. If I get fired from my jobs too many more times I might consider it." It would come true someday, but that would be years away.

Soon, they called us to get ready to board the train.

"Well, I guess this is it. See you around, George. Don't forget to write!"

"You know I don't forget to write, Ralph, I write every opportunity I can. Write me as soon as you can! Hope you have a good ride back."

I waved goodbye to George and boarded the train. I unpacked my books, magazines, and newspapers. It would take another three days to get back home. Maybe this trip hadn't been such a good idea at all. The train rides were so dreadfully boring. In hindsight, it would probably would have been better to take a plane, but at the time I was near deathly afraid of them. I had horrendous nightmares of being in an airplane that was breaking apart in mid-flight or of being in a plane and the engines had caught on fire. Some of them were so horrible, I couldn't even tell if they were dreams or reality when I woke up.

The train soon left the station. It would be a long trip home.

END CHAPTER SIX