Tales of Squirty Pants And Water Boy (Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern fanfic)

Flashback

Rona was about 5 years-old when she saw him. Across her room were tiny glass windows, they accessed to a perfect view of him. A perfect view of Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern. But even just a view of Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern was prefect enough. She has lived next to Jonathan for 5 years now, she is 5 and he is 6. He was a son of a wealthy man. Her small room with a tiny window was nothing compared to his. No one could miss his house on the block. At the end of his room, huge glass doors, the kind of doors that birds constantly fly into because it was as if they weren't even there. If you would open the enormous glass doors, you would enter his wide balcony. It was the kind of balcony that you would expect to overlook the beach or the greenest garden with a maze. But it was just overlooking Rona's sad window. She has observed him for years now. He was very peculiar to her. She has never seen anything this shiny, sliver in its entirety.

He has a sister—Clary, about Rona's age. Rona and her never talked much. His mother and father would always bicker, no not bicker, fight. And whenever they would have one of their fights, Jonathan would lock himself up in his room. Directly in front of his balcony, he had the perfect view of the girl next door. She was very peculiar to him. Not from the way she looked. Brown hair, raven eyes—it was all common. But she has never said anything to him. She would just smile or wave her hand, nothing too special, but somehow it made Jonathan always feel better.

Today, his parents were having another argument. This one was the worst. All the yelling and screaming was ringing through the walls. He tried to cover his ears but no use, it just kept getting louder and louder. The girl wasn't there either. When he needed her the most, she wasn't there. The last booming sound he ever heard was the thunderous noise the door made as it smacked shut. He quickly ran out his room and saw his father drowning himself in his spirits, and no one else.

"They are gone" his father said "Your mother and your sister are gone"

Tears blurred Jonathan's vision. Anger roared in his heart. He wasn't angry that she left. He knew this was going to happen sooner or later. He was angry because she didn't take him with her. No, she did not take Jonathan with her.

He needed to breathe. This was a lot to handle for a 6 year-old. He went into his backyard, where there were lots of toys to distract him. But he didn't need them, because she was there across the lawn. She was sitting there on the grass with a gigantic cardboard box in front of her. She has set up empty plates and cups, but he was sure to her they were filled with tea and delicious pastries. She looked up from her tea party and smiled at Jonathan. Jonathan took this opportunity to finally go talk to her. Everything was much clear up close. She was missing her two front teeth, and was playing with a cardboard box with a picture of a plastic table, perfect for tea parties. She just became more peculiar to him. Why play with a cardboard box when you can play with the plastic table, that she certainly had?

The first words he ever said to her was my name is Jonathan, what's yours? But if he had known that, he would have made them more interesting.

"Rona Blackwright. That's B-L-A-C-K-W-R-I-G-H-T. I am entering a spelling bee" she replied

He didn't say anything after that.

"This is Mr. Eyeballs" she pointed at the teddy bear. "Because he only has one eye"

"This is Mrs. Belly" she said. It was a purple ballerina, twice the size of the teddy bear. Mrs. Belly, because the stuffing was coming out of her stomach.

This was the first time Jonathan has ever heard the girl—Rona–talk. And now, for the first time in his life, he was short for words. He simply took a seat in the grass next to her. Hopefully she didn't mind but from the looks of it, she didn't. She placed a teacup in front of him and reached for her kettle.

"Would you like some tea?" She said in a sophisticated accent. "That's T-E-E"

"Yes please" he mimicked her accent. Her inaccurate spelling made him laugh. She poured some "tea" from the kettle. "And now do you spell that?"

She thought hard and then answered, "Kettle. That's K-A-T-A-L"

Incorrect once again. It was a definite possibility that she was not going to win that spelling bee. Jonathan liked it there, it was a good distraction.

"I think Mr. Eyeballs and Mrs. Belly like me" he smiled proudly.

"They think you are okay at best" she sipped her tea

"You're jealous because they like me more than you"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yuh-huh! Bet you can't even spell their names"

"I can too!"

"Really? Spell Mr. Eyeballs"

"I-B-A-L-L-S" she spelled confidently

"I think you are going to win that spelling bee" and he didn't say it sarcastically, because he still didn't fully grasp the concept of sarcasm, yet. He was genuine in his words, because the only thing that she would spell correctly was her own name and somehow that was enough. He had met many like her, stubborn and opinionated, but still quiet. She was part of the huge population of people that liked to keep to themselves. She didn't mind it, she prefers to be alone, because when she is alone she does not care, she prefers to not care almost all the time.

"Thank you" she smiled. He has seen many like her, that choose cardboard boxes over brand new things, because the possibilities with a cardboard box were endless. The ones that stick to their ratty old toys that have stuffing leaking from its stomach. He has seen many people like her, the same doe eyes with ravenous color, the same bouncy brownish hair that would fall straight after a few years. So many like her, but she intrigued him the most.