XVII – GEMINI

One of a kind

Hi. My name is Andrew, but most of you know me as Gemini. I know, I know. Most of the authors in this fandom usually name me Jack, Jordan, Jay, Jake, Justin or any other name beginning with J. I'm just glad I'm not Kyle's clone or I could be Kevin, Ken, Kelly or Kurt. I think there was even one author who actually thought it was a good idea to call me Jarod Jr., or Jarod the Second, I don't know. How ficking original! Who the hell came up with that idea?

Living on the run with Major Charles was not as frantic as most of you seem to think. I say “was” because we're not together anymore. (If you read the Major's story a few chapters ago, you should already know this.) True, we had to get up at unbelievable hours and move to another location every time he heard a car approaching – or, more often than not, thought he heard one – but that wasn't the bad part. Compared to the Major's snoring and Emily's staring (having an older brother who looks younger than you can be quite freaking), the constant running was almost pleasant.

Emily returned to her job as a reporter not even a week after the movie The Pretender 2001. She liked her job, but that wasn't the main reason as I soon realized. Nonetheless, even if I did know, I had to stick around. Where else would I go? Besides, the Major was a nice guy. A bit harsh sometimes, always living by military standards, but he was cool. For the most part.

It took me a while to get used to getting up at four a.m. to do some drill exercises. I especially detested sentry duty, although the worst part was his surprise inspections to my bedroom. Mr. Raines used to beat the crap out of me every time I didn't have a clean space, but the look of disappointment on the Major's face when he looked at what I thought to be complete pristine cleanliness was... troubling, to say the least.

No wonder Jarod is taking so long to “find” his parents. Yes, I used quotation marks. Do you honestly think Jarod wouldn't be able to find his entire family like this (I just snapped my fingers, by the way) if he really wanted to? After spending decades imprisoned at The Centre, I think it will be a while before he willingly accepts to join the military life here at home.

If you I think I'm exaggerating let me clue you in on something: the Major's full name. Care to guess what it is? It's Charles M. Charles. You think that's weird? Do you know what the M stands for? Major. That's right. The man was born a Major; he has the military genes in his blood. One more thing: what kind of parents name their son Charles when the child's last name is already Charles?

Sorry about the rambling. Sometimes I let myself get carried away. Back to the story.

Once The Centre was no longer a threat, I finally gathered enough courage to have a talk with the Major. Here's how it went:

“Now that we don't have to worry about The Centre anymore, I need my own space,” I said.

“You have your bedroom.”

“I need a place of my own! I need to find something useful to do.”

“The toilet's clogging and the kitchen door is squeegee. You can get yourself useful with that.”

“You're not getting it!”

“Well, excuse me if I'm not as smart as Mr. Knowseverything!”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I'm sorry, Andrew. I...”

“Not you, him.”

“Who? The author?”

Okay... Here we go again. What was this time? The characters are not believable? Is it too silly? It's a nonsense story! What did you expect?

“I expected at least some faint resemblance to the original stuff.”

All right. I think it'll be better if we just push this forward to the part where you're at the employment office to apply for a job.

“What about our conversat

~*~

Andrew was at the employment office to apply for a job.

You said that already!

I'm setting the scene.

Hey! Wait a second! Don't you think readers will get confused with your narration and my thinking?

I don't understand the question.

“I was wondering... Never mind. Let's go on with the scene.”

Andrew sat at a chair. Before him, a woman wearing plastic green glasses and too much make-up for a living person analyzed his resume. The fact that he didn't have one was the reason the analysis only took sixty minutes.

“What are your qualifications?” she asked, without looking at

Oh! I see it now. It is confusing.

How about we try this again?

The whole thing?

No, just the last line.

“What are your qualifications?” she asked, without looking at me.

“I can be everything I want to be!” I answered without a semblance of pride in my voice, for it was the truth. Well, almost everything. I wanted to be someplace else and instead...

“That's good for you. How would you like to work at a call-center?”

That's your way of getting back at me, isn't it?

You should be thankful for being able to get a job. Do you know how the job market is?

This is a story! You could make me a TV star, a doctor or something...!

Right... Like people would buy that.

They did it with Doogie Houser.

They also bought ALF and Small Wonder. So, what's your point? It's not believable.

Too late to start worrying about that now.

~*~

“Sweeping and cleaning hot line. You stain, soil, grime, mess, smudge, foul, defile or sully, we clean it up. This is Andrew. How may I help you?”

“Good morning. I seemed to have spilled some coff...”

“Sydney! Is that you?”

“My God! Jarod?”

“No, it's Andrew.”

“Sorry. Wrong number.”

Click.

RING!

“Sweeping and cleaning hot line. You stain, soil, grime, mess, smudge, foul, defile or sully, we clean it up. This is Andrew. How may I help you?”

“I'm calling... (wheeze) to inquire about... (wheeze) the best way to remove... (wheeze) brain matter from... (wheeze) my shoe.”

“Hello... Mr. Raines.”

“Gemini! Did you just give me a “Hello Newman”? I mean, Raines who?”

“Too late. I know it's you.”

“No, I'm not. I mean, it's not.”

CLICK.

What the hell is going on here! Can't you write a decent piece of dialogue?

I'm trying! They're not helping!

This has got to be the most pointless story in this entire series.

I think everyone else can call dibs to that.

RING!

“Sweeping and cleaning hot line. You stain, soil, grime, mess, smudge, foul, defile or sully, we clean it up. This is Andrew. How may I help you?”

“Andrew, it's Margaret, honey.”

“Oh! Hi! How can I help you?”

“I'm organizing a celebration dinner for all the main characters of the show and I would really like if you came along.”

“But I'm not a main character.”

“You're close enough.”

“Sure. When is it?”

“Next story. Just flip the page or click next.”

Not you, Andrew. She meant the reader.

Then why... I give up.

Not you, Andrew. She meant the reader.

Then why... I give up.