Categories > Cartoons > G.I. Joe > Tenderfoot
Lift Ticket had not spoken to Lifeline in over a week. They had met in the hallway or the mess from time to time, but they had not been assigned any missions together, and neither had sought the other out. It began to feel distinctly odd. Lifeline was about as different from Lift Ticket's standard friends as one could get and still be in the same line of work, but nonetheless, Lift Ticket had begun to rather enjoy prodding him for a reaction, and being prodded in return. The word 'apology' had floated through Lift Ticket's mind, but it didn't find anything to latch onto, and so it tended to drift right back out again.
Then, on a partiularly dul Tuesday, a package arrived. Lift Ticket unwrapped it and read the card with a grin. After thinking for a moment, he took the contents off to Lifeline's room, pausing at the Coke machine on the way.
He knocked. "Who is it?" drifted through the door.
Lift Ticket walked in. Lifeline looked up from the book he was reading as he sat in bed, his legs crossed. "Does 'who is it' mean 'come right in' where you come from?"
"Hell, everything but 'get the hell outta here' means 'come right in' where I come from," Lift Ticket replied, dragging a chair up to the bed and sitting in it, half-sprawled.
Lifeline put a mark in the book and set it aside, looking at Lift Ticket with exaggerated attention. "Yes? How may I help you?"
"Maybe ya can help me with this," Lift Ticket replied, waggling the small bottle of rum. "My sister sent it. I should mention to her that ya really shouldn't send somethin' called Mount Gay to a base fulla men, but she said on the card that it's good stuff."
"What's the occasion?" Lifeline asked.
"It's Tuesday and there's squat goin' on, and that's occasion enough for me." He set it on the ground and started to scrounge for glasses.
"In the foot locker. I didn't know you had a sister," Lifeline said, sitting up with some interest.
"Yeah, I got a sister and some brothers." Lift Ticket found some cups in the foot locker, and pulled out two. "Hated her when we were litte. She was younger and used to beat me up all time. Then I hit my growth spurt. It's funny," he reflected, pouring rum and a dash of Coke into two cups, "the more time I spend away from home, the more I like her. I think the feelin's mutual." Pure Southern charm, she was, these days, with her dark hair and sparkling dark eyes.
Lifeline nodded, looking at the cup contents dubiously. "That happens." He tried a sip. "That is good."
Lift Ticket was in the middle of coming to the same conclusion. "Yep." He sighed and leaned back. "You gotta sister?"
Lifeline let out a bark of unamused laughter. "Yes. The only one in the family that talks to me anymore."
"Yer kiddin'." Lift Ticket frowned. He couldn't imagine anyone being a more saccahrine-sweet example of a model son than Lifeline.
Lifeline shook his head. "Nope. My family doesn't... approve of my current occupation."
"Well, I can sorta see that." Lift Ticket leaned back, finishing off his cup. "I mean, I still don't get why a confirmed pacificst like you is doin' with us."
Lifeline leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "They're great people, my family, they really are, and the feel strongly - more strongly than me, I think." He sighed. "But it's like they spend all of their time preaching to the converted. I thought that it might do more if I went to where the... well, not where the enemy was, but... you know." Lift Ticket nodded. Lifeline had some loopy ideas, but he had to admit that the fellow stuck with them. "Sometimes, though," Lifeline continued, "I wonder if it's doing any good at all, here. My dad's a preacher, and people at home said I had his knack for convincing, but I don't think I do."
Lift Ticket shifted, thinking about the Viper who let them go. "Eh. I wouldn't jump to conclusions." He refilled his cup, then refilled Lifeline's as the man held it out. "But yer sister believes in ya, yeah?"
Lifeline smiled, his eyes unfocusing a little. "Yeah. She's terrific."
"She look like you?" Lift Ticket prompted.
"Nah. She's gorgeous." Lifeline frowned and started to dig through a pile of mail on his nightstand. "And that's the problem, isn't it..." he muttered. Lift Ticket took another drink, watching. "Look." Lifeline pulled out a piece of heavy card stock and handed it over.
It was a fairly standard wedding invitation, printed with black calligraphy on a white background, with plenty of curlicues. "Yeah?" Lift Ticket asked, wondering what he was suposed to get out of it. All he got was that the bride's name was Steen.
"She's getting married."
"And you don't like the fellah?" Lift Ticket asked, handing the card back.
Lifeline shrugged, tossing the invite back on the nightstand. "He's a good guy; he seems nice enough, has a good job, all that. Still..." he trailed off.
"Ed, man, I'm guessing that no fellah is going to be good enough for your sister." Lift Ticket grinned.
Lifeline frowned. "Hey, now, how would you feel if some guy asked to marry your..."
"I'd kill 'im," Lift Ticket replied, with sincerity. Lifeline arched an eyebrow. "Well, not really," Lift Ticket continued, "but my first reaction? Yeah. I know where you're coming from. But if you can't trust her judgment..."
"Right." Lifeline didn't look convinced. "Hey, the wedding's in a few months. Do you want to come along? I invited Roadblock, and Shipwreck overheard, so I had to ask him along, too."
Lift Ticket chuckled. "If I'm not otherwise occupied by th' powers that be. I think you're gonna need more support than the groom." Lifeline looked down, smiling shyly. Lift Ticket frowed. That was the first shy thing he had seen Lifeline do. He cleared his throat. "To sisters," he said, raising his cup.
"To sisters," Lifeline echoed, lifting his, and added, "and their bonehead brothers."
Yep, Lift Ticket thought as he poured another for both of them, sisters were something. Near-psychic, sometimes - with that card she had sent, saying In case you need an icebreaker. Well, whatever secret she had, Lift Ticket wasn't going to question it. He was just going to be glad he got to get a taste of it, now and then.
Then, on a partiularly dul Tuesday, a package arrived. Lift Ticket unwrapped it and read the card with a grin. After thinking for a moment, he took the contents off to Lifeline's room, pausing at the Coke machine on the way.
He knocked. "Who is it?" drifted through the door.
Lift Ticket walked in. Lifeline looked up from the book he was reading as he sat in bed, his legs crossed. "Does 'who is it' mean 'come right in' where you come from?"
"Hell, everything but 'get the hell outta here' means 'come right in' where I come from," Lift Ticket replied, dragging a chair up to the bed and sitting in it, half-sprawled.
Lifeline put a mark in the book and set it aside, looking at Lift Ticket with exaggerated attention. "Yes? How may I help you?"
"Maybe ya can help me with this," Lift Ticket replied, waggling the small bottle of rum. "My sister sent it. I should mention to her that ya really shouldn't send somethin' called Mount Gay to a base fulla men, but she said on the card that it's good stuff."
"What's the occasion?" Lifeline asked.
"It's Tuesday and there's squat goin' on, and that's occasion enough for me." He set it on the ground and started to scrounge for glasses.
"In the foot locker. I didn't know you had a sister," Lifeline said, sitting up with some interest.
"Yeah, I got a sister and some brothers." Lift Ticket found some cups in the foot locker, and pulled out two. "Hated her when we were litte. She was younger and used to beat me up all time. Then I hit my growth spurt. It's funny," he reflected, pouring rum and a dash of Coke into two cups, "the more time I spend away from home, the more I like her. I think the feelin's mutual." Pure Southern charm, she was, these days, with her dark hair and sparkling dark eyes.
Lifeline nodded, looking at the cup contents dubiously. "That happens." He tried a sip. "That is good."
Lift Ticket was in the middle of coming to the same conclusion. "Yep." He sighed and leaned back. "You gotta sister?"
Lifeline let out a bark of unamused laughter. "Yes. The only one in the family that talks to me anymore."
"Yer kiddin'." Lift Ticket frowned. He couldn't imagine anyone being a more saccahrine-sweet example of a model son than Lifeline.
Lifeline shook his head. "Nope. My family doesn't... approve of my current occupation."
"Well, I can sorta see that." Lift Ticket leaned back, finishing off his cup. "I mean, I still don't get why a confirmed pacificst like you is doin' with us."
Lifeline leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "They're great people, my family, they really are, and the feel strongly - more strongly than me, I think." He sighed. "But it's like they spend all of their time preaching to the converted. I thought that it might do more if I went to where the... well, not where the enemy was, but... you know." Lift Ticket nodded. Lifeline had some loopy ideas, but he had to admit that the fellow stuck with them. "Sometimes, though," Lifeline continued, "I wonder if it's doing any good at all, here. My dad's a preacher, and people at home said I had his knack for convincing, but I don't think I do."
Lift Ticket shifted, thinking about the Viper who let them go. "Eh. I wouldn't jump to conclusions." He refilled his cup, then refilled Lifeline's as the man held it out. "But yer sister believes in ya, yeah?"
Lifeline smiled, his eyes unfocusing a little. "Yeah. She's terrific."
"She look like you?" Lift Ticket prompted.
"Nah. She's gorgeous." Lifeline frowned and started to dig through a pile of mail on his nightstand. "And that's the problem, isn't it..." he muttered. Lift Ticket took another drink, watching. "Look." Lifeline pulled out a piece of heavy card stock and handed it over.
It was a fairly standard wedding invitation, printed with black calligraphy on a white background, with plenty of curlicues. "Yeah?" Lift Ticket asked, wondering what he was suposed to get out of it. All he got was that the bride's name was Steen.
"She's getting married."
"And you don't like the fellah?" Lift Ticket asked, handing the card back.
Lifeline shrugged, tossing the invite back on the nightstand. "He's a good guy; he seems nice enough, has a good job, all that. Still..." he trailed off.
"Ed, man, I'm guessing that no fellah is going to be good enough for your sister." Lift Ticket grinned.
Lifeline frowned. "Hey, now, how would you feel if some guy asked to marry your..."
"I'd kill 'im," Lift Ticket replied, with sincerity. Lifeline arched an eyebrow. "Well, not really," Lift Ticket continued, "but my first reaction? Yeah. I know where you're coming from. But if you can't trust her judgment..."
"Right." Lifeline didn't look convinced. "Hey, the wedding's in a few months. Do you want to come along? I invited Roadblock, and Shipwreck overheard, so I had to ask him along, too."
Lift Ticket chuckled. "If I'm not otherwise occupied by th' powers that be. I think you're gonna need more support than the groom." Lifeline looked down, smiling shyly. Lift Ticket frowed. That was the first shy thing he had seen Lifeline do. He cleared his throat. "To sisters," he said, raising his cup.
"To sisters," Lifeline echoed, lifting his, and added, "and their bonehead brothers."
Yep, Lift Ticket thought as he poured another for both of them, sisters were something. Near-psychic, sometimes - with that card she had sent, saying In case you need an icebreaker. Well, whatever secret she had, Lift Ticket wasn't going to question it. He was just going to be glad he got to get a taste of it, now and then.
Sign up to rate and review this story