FIC: "Future Perfect" Evan Lorne G

[helenkacan]

Okay, here we are, kiddies, in the fourth segment of stargate_las and my third entry. I'm moving on to the next round, so yay. Although my score put me in second place in the SGA category, there was one vote against me ... so I'll be very curious to read that particular judgment!

Name: helenkacan
Show/Movie: Stargate Atlantis (SGA)
Story Title: Future Perfect
Character/Relationships: Lorne, various OFCs and OMCs / Gen
Rating: G
Warnings: None


Nick tried his best not to stumble, hurrying down the street into town while clutching a crumpled ten dollar bill in his hand. He'd already slipped on his cheap thin-soled shoes and fallen, scraping an elbow. But it was really important that he get to the art store before it closed. If he was lucky, Gillian would be on duty. She usually dawdled on purpose, knowing he would be coming by every Saturday.

Nick knew he was lucky to have any kind of a part-time job at the age of ten. The fact that old man Gleason had offered him work - just nosing around at the junkyard - was something any curious kid would love. He got to search through abandoned cars, picking up loose change or other objects. Mr. Gleason had asked him to be very careful if he uncovered a knife or even a gun. So far, he'd found a couple of knives he'd handed over cautiously in plastic bags. Once he'd found a twenty and couldn't believe it when Mr. Gleason told him to keep the money. And he still got paid his usual ten!

The job was just a recent thing. He'd been hanging out with his two best friends, Mike and Jack, snooping around the junkyard when he'd found a large leather portfolio filled with paintings as well as blank canvasses. He couldn't understand why someone had thrown something like that out, but he lugged it home to show his mom who'd gotten this panicked look on her face after she'd glanced at a couple of paintings. So she'd made him march right back to show her where he'd found it.

Next thing Nick knew, she was knocking on Mr. Gleason's door asking if the portfolio belonged to him. Though he looked upset, he invited them in and offered Nick a glass of juice and a cup of coffee to his mom. Nick wasn't paying too much attention to what they were talking about until he heard his name ... the one he hated.

"So, young man, I hear you like to draw."

"Yes, sir," he replied eagerly. "It's fun and I can draw on anything." That certainly was true. If there was an empty cereal box, he'd draw on the inside. The backs of corrected tests. Even scraps of paper.

"Well, I would like you to have this portfolio so you can draw or paint on proper canvas." Mr. Gleason paused, drawing a shuddering breath, before he continued softly, "My son painted these. I hope you'll find some inspiration in them."

Wow! Nick couldn't believe he was being given the portfolio outright. He'd never had something this big or important before. He pulled himself out of his daydreams, because Mr. Gleason was speaking again.

"I'm sorry I can't give you his oil paints, but they dried out some time ago. Still ... I'd like to offer you a job, so you can buy your own set. How would you like to help me here every Saturday? I need someone responsible to go through the cars, just to make sure there's nothing valuable left in them. You know, like a wallet or cigarette lighter. I'll pay you ten dollars in cash at the end of the day. So, what do you say?"

Nick was speechless. He just grinned and nodded his head with enthusiasm. Mr. Gleason ruffled his hair and chuckled. After his mom had finished her coffee, she shook hands with Mr. Gleason and they walked back home, both in a much lighter mood.

He didn't understand why Mr. Gleason was so generous until he asked his mom. She just got this sad look on her face and mentioned he'd lost his only child, the son who'd painted, in the war. Nick could understand what it was like to lose someone since his dad was gone, leaving just him and his mom. And, yeah, his pesky kid sister who was five.

Nick was happy they lived near the water. He loved to paint the ocean. He already had all the right blue and green tints, but he needed some steel grey and camelia pink and those were the two tubes he purchased from Gillian.

Even though Nick didn't have a dad, he felt lucky living with his mom and sister. Mike and Jack often mentioned how their dads were threatening to send them to a military academy in the next couple of years, supposedly to put some discipline into them. Nick couldn't understand how parents could send their kids away, especially to become soldiers. Even pretend-soldiers.

He knew his mom would never do anything like that to him. She was happy he had a hobby like art, something he was passionate about. She didn't have to worry about him getting into trouble. And, even if his mom didn't say stupid stuff like, "You're the man of the house now," Nick felt it was important for them to stick together, the three of them.

Back up in his room after dinner, he lay down on his bed. It was too late to do any work in the waning evening light, but he could stare at the paintings Mr. Gleason's son had made, mostly of trees and sky. Nick's index finger traced the letters of the name in the lower corner. J-O-N-A-H. Huh. No last name. And then he wondered how he would sign his name, thinking of what it would feel like to be famous. His whole name was way too long. And "Lorne" didn't sound artistic anyway. But, maybe, he could use the first name he hated so much. It did sound fancy, after all. Too fancy for a kid, but maybe okay for a grownup.

Having mapped out his future with the clarity and certainty only a young boy could harness, he fell asleep whispering "Evan". And knew the first thing he would do Sunday morning was to paint his unique name on the canvas of the rest of his life.

Comments

[bethynyc.livejournal.com]

I really liked this! Though I was a bit confused until the end, which made the name thing make sense. Thank you!

[helenkacan.livejournal.com]

Ha! You think I would want to write something that doesn't semi-confuse people??? After all, I have to get my jollies ... somewhere. ::giggles::

And I was also playing on the stupidity of TPTB (ah, yes, only ONE of many) where they didn't give Lorne a first name, so fandom gave him "Nick".

I'm glad you liked it. I'm having loads of fun writing for these challenges and, for once, I'm just as happy NOT to write about sex or relationships.

[mezzo-cammin.livejournal.com]

What a wonderful, wonderful last line!

This was great - I liked how you captured the language of a 10-year-old boy. And, oh, Lorne! Already in love with the ocean, so Atlantis must have been like going home to him, too. :o)

[helenkacan.livejournal.com]

Hee! I'm glad you liked it. And I guess you've figured out I like to put in cryptic references just about everywhere.

But what I find fascinating (and, hey, I wrote the thing) is that he ended up in the military anyway while keeping the painting as a strong hobby.

As I mentioned above, I'm quite enchanted by writing gen fics (though, in this case, we were supposed to write about a 10-year old, so there wouldn't have been a Capital R relationship anyway).

I'm glad you enjoyed it!