RUDE AWAKENING

THE DIRECT CONTINUATION OF "LABOR RELATIONS"

By Bridgid

"Do you remember what you took pictures of, Steve?"

"Not really. Bananas I think, but then again I've eaten so many of them over this past year, you know?”

"Why would anyone want pictures of bananas?" Millie reached for Brooklyn and Steve kissed his daughter's forehead before handing her over. He sat next to them and folded his legs up so he could get closer.

"I don't really know. I seem to be remembering some other things, too, like subways and tall buildings."

"You don't remember wearing tights, do you? Oh, wait, that was Clark Kent. Jimmy was the photographer. I bet you'd look kind of cute in spandex, though." Brooklyn fussed and she was promptly shown where the Dairy Queen severed lunch. "I wonder why I can't remember anything. I mean I know I had another life and I can remember reading books and seeing films..." She stopped in her tracks and cocked her head at Steve. "You remind me of a man I saw in a film once. It was a crazy little flick about a guy who couldn't commit and a pretty dark haired woman who couldn't cook. I think his name was Steve, too, but I can't remember her name."

"Monica." He answered without thinking.

"You've seen it, too?"

"No."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means  ...I am Steve."

"How could that be? It was a movie. You're not in a movie now." Brooklyn fussed some more and Millie changed her position. She placed her against her shoulder and began to pat her back.

"I don't know how to explain it." Brooklyn belched like a sailor. Her little body rumbled enough to cause the rafters in the hut to vibrate. "How do you explain such a big noise coming from a tiny baby? What have you got on tap there, Mil, Sam Adams lager?"

"It's all for her so don't even think about it."

"No worries. I'm not about to fight her for them.  If she can belch like that she probably has a hell of a left hook."

Steve watched as Millie lay the babe down on the green Martha Stewart blanket. "You know what, Steve? If you were the guy in that movie then you pissed me off. Why the hell did you cheat on Monica with that bimbo in the studio?"

"We were not an item when it happened."

"Were too!"

"Were not!"

"Bullshit. That kid was right. They should have thrown you in the garbage." Millie stood up and used her bare foot to kick him in the leg.

"Ouch! What'd you do that for!" He grasped his shin and rubbed it as she went outside. Steve got up and followed her. She stood just outside the door with her back to him and her arms crossed. "Millie, what the hell is this all about? Do you have that post...post ...hard on depression?"

"Just what do you mean by that, Steve-o?"

"Well, it seems you have a hard on for me all of a sudden."

"Face it. You were a prick. You asked Monica to marry you then you go passing out at the alter. Is that what you're going to do to me?"

"Damn it! You're crazy." He moved so he was standing directly in front of her. "If I came from a film, then so did you. How do I know you weren't the Mayflower Madam or a serial killer or something like that?"

"I don't remember anything of the sort. I don't know where I came from. How did we get on this subject anyway and keep your voice down or you'll upset Brook."

"Millie, this is all too confusing and what does it matter anyway?" he reached to hug her but she pulled back. "Come on, Mil. You know I love you. You know I'm not going to cheat on you. I haven't seen another woman here anyway."

"So if you did find Ginger or Maryann or even Lovie Howell you would cheat?"

"Did I say that?"

"You don't have to. If you're Steve from the movie you have it in your genes. You're non committal."

"Maybe we're in a different film. Maybe that was me but I've changed?"

"Oh yeah, you've changed. I bet you cheated on the woman you married ... with Monica in the end, didn't you?"

"I can't remember. I don't think it was in the film. I can't even remember the woman I married." He crossed his arms and tapped his foot. "Are you going to punish me for something I have no control over?"

She thought for a moment. Raising her eyes to his she drew a breath. "It's a book I think."

"A book?"

"Where I come from is a book but it’s not finished. I think."

"Do you know what it’s about?"

Millie shook her head. "No, but I can assure you that I'm not a serial killer. I think I'm some kind of emergency services worker. I keep hearing frigging bells in the middle of the night."

"Tell me you were not a guy. Tell me you were not Johnny Gage or Roy DeSoto."

"Chauvinist! Don't you think women could be firefighters, too?"

Steve raised a hand and covered his eyes. "Fucks sake, am I ever going to say anything right? No matter what, you' twist it around."

"Fuck you!"

"Fuck you!" And Brooklyn started to wail.

"Look what you did! You woke her up you...you...misogynist!" She huffed at him before slipping through the door of the hut to take care of the baby.

Steve paced outside. How could she call him something like that? He didn't hate women by a long shot. Relenting, he followed her inside.

"Can we call a truce?"

Millie had Brooklyn cradled in her arms and they were both crying. She looked up at him with her patriotic red white and blue eyes and sobbed. "Uh huh. I'm just scared, Steve. We're trapped here all alone with no idea of what's going to happen next. I want to go shopping. I want a book to read...I want some Popeye's chicken with red beans and rice."

He squatted down and put his arms around both of them. "Baby, if I could get it for you I would. I'd give you the moon if I knew how to drag it down from the sky. How can I make you understand that?"

"You would? You really would? Oh, Steve, I'm sorry. I love you, I honestly do."

He stroked her back lightly and leaned in to kiss her cheek. "Why do we argue so much?"

"Boredom? Let's face it. It's about all we have to do. We've been here a long time, Steve. Just the two of us until Brooklyn came along. Look, things have changed; we've got a child now. Maybe we should start thinking about getting off of this island."

"A little prayer never hurt. Whatever power brought us here could take us someplace else, I guess." Steve took the baby from her and lay back. He held her above him and looked up at her. "Just so we're all together, it doesn't really matter. Isn't that right, Brook?" He could swear he saw her grin.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. She's far too young  ..." Millie's advice was a second too late. Brooklyn let out another rip roaring belch and her lunch became a warm pungent facial mask for the photographer to enjoy. He sat up quickly, holding the baby at arms length.

"Oh my God!"

"See, it’s not Sam Adams lager. It's milk, and now it's sour milk." Millie began to laugh. She tried to conceal it by putting a hand over her mouth but to no avail. She took Brooklyn from his hands and tossed one of the squares of material they'd cut up for diapers to him. "That'll learn you!"

"How could such a sweet little tiny baby hold so much stuff?"

"She's daddy's girl. You've got quite an appetite yourself, Steve."

Contorting his face to avoid getting any of the curdled cheese in his mouth, he wiped his cheeks and chin. "At least I don't barf when I eat."

"If you had some big ape hold you up over his head and move you around like you did to her ...I can almost guarantee you'll toss your cookies."

"All I can say is, let’s hope I don't ever have to find out." Crunching the soiled nappie up in his hand he looked at his forearm as if there were a watch there. "It'll be dark soon. I'm going to wash up before we call it a night. Maybe we could kiss and make up...eh?"

She leaned back and propped herself on her arms. Millie wiggled her brows at him and drew one leg up seductively. "Maaaaybeee, if Brook falls asleep and you promise not to be too noisy." 

"We'll work it out. Hey, baby, I love you, I love you both."

For as much as they argued and toyed with each other, Millie knew he meant it. She felt they were meant to be together like soul mates. Perhaps that's why they were here because there was no place else for them.

By the time Steve got back she had little Brooklyn fed and  fast asleep in the crib they'd made out of the steamer trunk. Millie was lying on her back on Martha Stewart with her arms crossed behind her head and Steve lay down beside her. He propped his head up on his hand and nuzzled into her cheek. "You seem to be deep in thought, Mil. What are you pondering?"

"I was wondering if Luke and Laura ever got back together on General Hospital. They seemed a lot like us, Steve. Two people who belonged together. I mean they got killed off, kidnapped, slipped into comas and even vanished into thin air but no matter what they always seemed to come back. Laura Vining Webber Baldwin Spencer Spencer is invincible even if she is catatonic. Do you think we're lying catatonic somewhere and this is what happens during it? You live someplace secluded?"

"That's totally ridiculous. Can we just make love? If I have to think too much my brain won’t let my dick get hard."

"Come here, tiger. Show me what you've got!"

"Oh, Millie, I've missed this."

"Hm, Steve, you're an animal. Take me, Shere Khan! Yes! Yes! Yes!"

"Uh, Uh, Millie. I love you, baby. I love you...Ahhhhh, hmmmm ZZZZZZZZ"

Here we go again. I was sound asleep and they have to carry on like a couple of bunnies. I like bunnies, I think. I never really saw a bunny. I sure hope they're not making a brother for me. I swear if they make a brother...As God is my witness, I'm going to learn to walk, and get the hell out of here. I'm hungry. I'm really hungry. Let’s see, if I do this ...WAAAAAAAAAAAA, I get fed. WAAAAAAAAAAAA.

"Millie."

"Yeah."

"You awake?"

"Yeah. I got her. You don't have the right equipment anyway, at least not for this."

Millie got up and cooed to the baby before she lifted her up to feed her. It wasn't long before she and Brook were both fast asleep again...sated and snoring softly beside Papa Steve. The night moved slowly into morning and Steve stirred to fluff his pillow. Pillow? One eye opened, and then the other and his first breath was filled with the scent of fresh cotton and Tide detergent. He lifted his head from the drool soaked pillow and wiped his eyes. Tugging once at the goose down duvet that had slipped down to his hips, he drew it up around his neck. Goose down duvet?

"Where the hell am I?" he mumbled through his post-dawn stupor. "Millie?"

"Good morning, papa bear. I brought someone here to see you." She set the baby down on the bed next to him. "Sweetheart, you were tossing and turning so much last night, I got worried."

"Where am I?" He sat up and looked around the room. The sound of a car horn outside made him jump and fist his hands into the duvet. "Millie, I had the most vivid dream. We were on an island, you, me and Brook. No one else was there. I swear it was so real."

"Aw, Steve, you can tell me about it later. If you don't get up, you'll be late for work."

"Millie  ...what do I do for work?"

ON TO "GUILTY AS SIN"

BACK TO LIBRISCROWE

BACK TO LABOR RELATIONS