I was homeschooled with this certain curriculum, and I am very proud of my Accelerated Christian Education comic fan fiction, the very first ACE fan fiction on the internet, to my knowledge. So I have decided to publish it here, for people's convenience, and of course to show off. Here is the first chapter, and to see many more chapters (thirteen so far!) click here.
It was pouring rain, and Pudge McMercy was out in it, on the dirty
asphalt shoulder of the freeway trying, and failing, to change a tire.
Tentatively, for what seemed like the millionth time, he tried to turn
one of the bolts, but the iron was too slippery, and fell out of his
hand.
"Aarrgh!" he growled. "Flippin' macadamia-fudger!"
It
took all he had in him not to let loose with a stream of profanity, but
he gritted his teeth, then took steady, deep breaths, trying to calm
himself down. He wondered if it was too late; he had already lost his
temper, cussed in his heart. What did it matter now if he said it out
loud? But that was not a good thought, so he "took it captive" and tried
to dismiss it. He had done that a lot lately, for a long time now, and
it never seemed to work for long.
Slightly out of breath, he
rested on his heels, staring at the tire, and contemplating his own
masculinity. He was supposed to be able to change a tire; every man was.
But he had grown up with a widowed mother, who was not a very
self-reliant woman, and in spite of the men in the church taking him
under their wings, the subject of changing a tire had never come up. He
knew the basics, knew what he was supposed to do, but had never
attempted this on his own, and besides that he wasn't in the best of
shape.
He had been out here for nearly half an hour. Twice he had
recognized the cars of people from his church, and had tried to wave
them down, but they had not seen him.
They didn't see me, he told himself. They didn't see me.
His
thoughts were interrupted by the sound of another motor. He looked up,
glad to have help, but this wasn't any vehicle he recognized. It was an
older black Ford pickup, maybe from the seventies or early eighties. It
was older than most of the cars in his church parking lot on a Sunday,
and had a few dints in it too.
Pudge stood up, trying to see the
driver. But the rain pouring off the windshield made it difficult to see
inside. The engine died, the door opened, and a tall, lanky young man
stepped out. He had long black hair, wore a black leather jacket, and
dirty jeans. There was something vaguely familiar about the jaunty,
slightly cocky way he walked...
"Hey, buddy, looks like you could
use some help," the man began, then stopped, cocking his head. "Pudge?"
he asked. "Pudge McMercy?"
"Yes...?" Pudge answered.
"It's me, Ronny! We grew up together, remember? We knew each other as kids."
Yes, he remembered Ronny--all too well. Pudge's heart sank; he had thought it couldn't get any worse.
"Ronny!" he smiled, in spite of himself. "How are you, Ronny?"
"Great.
Doesn't look like you're doing too hot, though," he nodded towards
Pudge's car, a small red Honda about ten years old. It was one of the
older cars in the church parking lot, but was all Pudge could afford.
"Oh,
yeah, I, um...that's nothing. I'll have the tire changed in a minute,"
he lied. He wasn't about to let Ronny Vain see him try and fail to
change a tire. "Don't worry about me," he added.
"What are gonna
do, pray the tire off?" Ronny asked quickly, without apparent malice. "I
do this all the time, let me," Ronny shrugged, pushing past him.
"But...I...it's..."
Pudge tried to protest, but Ronny was already at work, cracking the
bolts with relative ease. What was happening here? Pudge was supposed to
minister to people like Ronny, not the other way around.
"Where's
the hubcap?" Ronny looked up, water streaming off his long black locks.
Pudge barely heard him, somehow fixated upon the tiny water droplets
clinging to Ronny's long, dark eyelashes.
"Well?" Ronny asked, puzzled.
"Huh?" Pudge mumbled, confused.
"The hubcap. Where's the hubcap, Pudge?"
"Hubcap?" Pudge shook his head, clearing his mind. "Oh, hubcap. I don't have one. Not on that one. I...I lost it."
"That's
okay. Here, hold this," he handed Pudge a bolt, slightly tickling his
wet palm. Pudge's cupped hands felt strange as Ronny handed the bolts to
him, one by one.
Pudge backed up as Ronny removed the tire and
replaced it with the spare, almost, but not quite, glancing at Ronny's
backside in the tight jeans.
Pudge looked away, staring stonily
into space as Ronny took the bolts back, one by one, fingertips brushing
against his hands. When Ronny took the last one, Pudge's hands went
slack, as he still stared into the distance, trying to think of anything
but the young man right in front of him.
"Okay, all done!"
Ronny straightened up, wiping his wet hands on his jeans. Ronny grinned
at him, that old, cocky smile that Pudge always found both irritating,
and, when it was genuine, actually quite nice.
"Now I don't have to take a shower," Ronny joked lamely. Pudge couldn't think of an answer.
Ronny turned around, stooping to pick up the jack.
"I
can get that," Pudge said quickly. Ronny brushed past him, ignoring
him, and put it back in the open trunk. Pudge moved to get the tire, but
Ronny was faster, and practically took it away from him.
"There,
all set," Ronny said, closing the trunk. "You don't need a jump-start or
anything, do you? I can drive you into town to get a part."
"No...no, it's not the car. It was the tire."
"Okay then. Nice to see you again, Pudge!" he grinned, getting back in his truck and slamming the door.
Pudge
stood beside the car, staring at Ronny, dumbfounded. Ronny gestured
toward the car, silently telling Pudge to get in. Ronny wouldn't leave
until he saw that Pudge had started his car and was pulling away.
Pudge turned around, sheepishly waving his thanks. Ronny smiled, blaring his horn in response.
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