Forward

Leaving Ariana and Fiona talking, Ishmael returns to his quarters to inform Vincent that Fiona will be teaching him Trump from now on.

Ishmael opens the door. "Hey there, slackers! You guys got off easy today, didn't you?" He tousles Morgan's hair. "Let me tell you! Women are nothing but trouble!"
He stops and looks at the group of them. "I'm proud of you boys for working while I was away. That was really responsible of you." He's smiling. "So let's see what you've been doing!" He moves towards Vincent briefly and hands him his Trump of Sand. "I'm REALLY impressed with your progress Vincent...you, my son, are what they call a freakin' genius." Ishmael gives him a big, toothy grin.

Vincent hands Ishmael the sketch of Jalana sheepishly. "It works."

"Biiiitchen'!" He offers his palm to Vincent a la give-me-five. "What are you going to work on now?"

He shrugs. (He seems a bit shaken.)

Ishmael crouches down near him. "What's wrong?"

"Why did it work? I'm only twelve."

Ishmael shrugs. "I dunno, but I have a theory... I think it worked cuz you did it right. Age doesn't have anything to do with it..."
He looks towards the front of the room. "Yo! Morgan? Shannon? You two are all finished up for today. Meet me down in the gym this afternoon?"

"Yep!" They wave and race out of the room. Vincent has noted that he wasn't included in that and is looking at Ishmael expectantly.

"I was serious about what I said, Vincent. I'm *really* impressed with your work...so what I have to say is really kinda hard for me." Ishmael makes a goofy face, kinda biting his lip. "You're already better than me." He shrugs. "So, you're kinda getting promoted. You're going to get to study Trump with the person who taught me, except I'm sure you'll go a lot further than me -- being only 12 and all. I was a lot older when I started, and my brains sort of run all over when I think too hard."
Then Ishmael puts his finger up. "But! I really want you to keep studying other stuff with me, okay?"

"All right. But who's going to teach me Trump?"

"Now this is gonna sound worse than it really is," he looks around to make sure Fiona hasn't entered the room unannounced, "but you're going to study with Fiona -- the absolute cat's pajamas of Trump."

Vincent's eyes grow wide. "But Papa says she eats Chaosian souls!"

Ishmael lets out a roaring laugh. "Oh man! That's great!" He settles down a bit. "I spent 100 years with her, and I never saw her eat a Chaosian soul. But you know what? She snores like a warthog!" Ishmael mocks up some sort of very loud, awful snore.
"Besides, I'm a Hendrake, which technically makes me a Chaosian, doesn't it?" He beats himself on the chest. "Soul still perfectly intact."

"Not that you have one," he hears Fiona say behind him. Vincent's eyes remain large.

Ishmael leans towards Vincent and whispers, "She's just mad because I licked her daughter last night..." He winks. "I'll tell you all about it later..."
"Hey there, Fi. I was just warnin' the boy that you'd be taking over his Trump studies." Ishmael stands up. "Shannon and Morgan were a bit wound up today, so I let 'em go early. You want I should go get 'em?"

"No, not necessary. I'd like the extra time to talk to Vincent this morning." (There is a definite "Ishmael dies later" glint in her eyes.)

Ishmael tries to straighten his face up, but it's obvious he wants to laugh. He looks at Vincent and mouths, "It wasn't Whimsy..." He kinda does a little hour-glass woman thing with his hands and then gives a thumbs up...
He puts on a stern face and turns towards Fiona. "Gotcha, Fi." He looks back over his shoulder to Vincent. "Don't forget! Jujitsu this afternoon!"
Then he leaves.
It doesn't occur to him until after he's in the hall. "Hey! That's MY room!" He shrugs and wanders off...

"Outrageous Fortune"
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All text on this page is © 1998 by Lisamarie Babik and Wendi Strang-Frost.

Last modified on October 27, 1998 by Kris Fazzari.