Categories > TV > Joan of Arcadia > Fall of the Sparrow
Chapter Six
0 reviewsThe second episode for an imaginary season three. Ryan's changing relationship with Joan has not altered his approach to life. Joan realizes that sometimes, even painful connections should not be s...
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Joan was trudging home from the hospital when Ryan pulled up beside her. "Hop in," he said, leaning over to open the passenger side door.
She shook her head. "I'm too tired to have an argument with you," she told him, "and I'm on my way home."
"I know," he said cheerfully. "I just came from there."
She stared at him, confused. "You were at my house?" she asked, not liking the idea.
"Yup," he said. "I dropped by to have a heart-to-heart with your mother, about the tragic suicide attempt by one of the Arcadian High students. She mentioned that you'd called to say you were walking home from the hospital, so I suggested," he grinned wolfishly, "that I try to find you en route, and take you out for dinner."
Joan rolled her eyes. "And you expect me to believe that?" she scoffed. "There's no way my mom would be okay with me going out to dinner with you."
"On the contrary, Joan," he said smoothly, his grin widening, "by the time I finished my pitch, she was relieved. She thinks you need to talk, and I've convinced her you'll open up to me more easily than you will to an older authority figure. So: let's go. The doctor is in." He gestured at the car door again. Joan hesitated.
"Let me point out," he added, "that you should actually be grateful-she was talking about sending you to a psychiatrist again."
Joan climbed reluctantly into the car. "Thanks, I guess," she said.
"Don't look so worried," Ryan said. "You can call home when we get there, to let her know you're safe."
"When we get where?" Joan asked. "Where are we going for dinner?"
"My place," he said, as he pulled away from the curb.
At his apartment, Joan sat nervously on the couch while Ryan reached for the phone. "Mrs. Girardi," he said, his polite tone at odds with the smirk on his face. "Just thought you'd like to know I found Joan, so we stopped to call before heading off. No, no problem at all. Here, why don't you say hi," he said, and held the receiver out to Joan.
"Mom?" she said, half believing it wouldn't really be her.
"Joan," her mother said, sounding worried. "I won't keep you long; I don't want to put Mr. Hunter to any more trouble. Are you all right?"
"Yes," said Joan, "of course." She tried to sound cheerful.
"Okay, then," said her mother doubtfully. "Don't stay out late. Will Mr. Hunter drop you off?"
"I'm sure he will," said Joan mechanically, "and I'll try not to be late. Bye." She hung up, feeling completely bewildered, and guiltily aware that she hadn't mentioned the part about staying at his place for dinner.
"Why am I here?" she asked Ryan.
"Because I'm such a kind, caring person, and I'm concerned about the problems facing today's youth," he said, and laughed. "Joan," he said, "you look exhausted. Why don't you go have a shower, while I'm cooking."
"A shower," she repeated, wondering if he were crazy.
"Yes, a shower," he repeated patiently, putting his hands on her shoulders and spinning her around, then gently pushing her down the hallway. "You know: hot water, soap? You'll feel more human afterwards, and less like the living dead. There's a bathrobe hanging on the back of the door," he added, and left her there.
Joan locked herself inside the bathroom. She was too exhausted and emotionally drained to think straight, but, she told herself, if her mother knew where she was, surely she was safe. She double-checked the lock, and got undressed.
End of "episode two."
She shook her head. "I'm too tired to have an argument with you," she told him, "and I'm on my way home."
"I know," he said cheerfully. "I just came from there."
She stared at him, confused. "You were at my house?" she asked, not liking the idea.
"Yup," he said. "I dropped by to have a heart-to-heart with your mother, about the tragic suicide attempt by one of the Arcadian High students. She mentioned that you'd called to say you were walking home from the hospital, so I suggested," he grinned wolfishly, "that I try to find you en route, and take you out for dinner."
Joan rolled her eyes. "And you expect me to believe that?" she scoffed. "There's no way my mom would be okay with me going out to dinner with you."
"On the contrary, Joan," he said smoothly, his grin widening, "by the time I finished my pitch, she was relieved. She thinks you need to talk, and I've convinced her you'll open up to me more easily than you will to an older authority figure. So: let's go. The doctor is in." He gestured at the car door again. Joan hesitated.
"Let me point out," he added, "that you should actually be grateful-she was talking about sending you to a psychiatrist again."
Joan climbed reluctantly into the car. "Thanks, I guess," she said.
"Don't look so worried," Ryan said. "You can call home when we get there, to let her know you're safe."
"When we get where?" Joan asked. "Where are we going for dinner?"
"My place," he said, as he pulled away from the curb.
At his apartment, Joan sat nervously on the couch while Ryan reached for the phone. "Mrs. Girardi," he said, his polite tone at odds with the smirk on his face. "Just thought you'd like to know I found Joan, so we stopped to call before heading off. No, no problem at all. Here, why don't you say hi," he said, and held the receiver out to Joan.
"Mom?" she said, half believing it wouldn't really be her.
"Joan," her mother said, sounding worried. "I won't keep you long; I don't want to put Mr. Hunter to any more trouble. Are you all right?"
"Yes," said Joan, "of course." She tried to sound cheerful.
"Okay, then," said her mother doubtfully. "Don't stay out late. Will Mr. Hunter drop you off?"
"I'm sure he will," said Joan mechanically, "and I'll try not to be late. Bye." She hung up, feeling completely bewildered, and guiltily aware that she hadn't mentioned the part about staying at his place for dinner.
"Why am I here?" she asked Ryan.
"Because I'm such a kind, caring person, and I'm concerned about the problems facing today's youth," he said, and laughed. "Joan," he said, "you look exhausted. Why don't you go have a shower, while I'm cooking."
"A shower," she repeated, wondering if he were crazy.
"Yes, a shower," he repeated patiently, putting his hands on her shoulders and spinning her around, then gently pushing her down the hallway. "You know: hot water, soap? You'll feel more human afterwards, and less like the living dead. There's a bathrobe hanging on the back of the door," he added, and left her there.
Joan locked herself inside the bathroom. She was too exhausted and emotionally drained to think straight, but, she told herself, if her mother knew where she was, surely she was safe. She double-checked the lock, and got undressed.
End of "episode two."
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