Roseanne’s Prince - 3

The front door opened and Roseanne Conner and her sister Jackie Harris walked in. Roseanne was a heavy woman with dark, shoulder length hair and matching dark eyes. She was the domestic goddess over her household; even though Dan was the man of the house, she was the mother and in the Conner house that was the ultimate title; one that invoked love, security, respect, and also fear. Her younger sister Jackie was nothing like her to that degree; she wasn’t a mother, she wasn’t heavyset, and she barely had her own place to stay at the moment. She was thin, average looking, and while Roseanne had a dominating presence, Jackie’s was more diminutive yet quasi-masculine.

Roseanne said nothing when she entered; she was far too puzzled as to why half her family was at home in the middle of a weekday, especially her son. She put her purse on the blue recliner next to her saying, “It’s nice to see my family has nothin’ better ‘a do than sit around the house all day. Makes a mom like me proud.”

Prince was tickled by her, but withheld his laughter.

“I already know what Darlene and David are doin’ here, but DJ you should be at school,” she said.

“I’m on it honey,” Dan said to relieve her arousing anger. “I already grounded him.”

“Great. Then why is he looking at the outside of his prison cell? Sorry, I mean… bedroom?” she said.

Prince climbed off of the couch and walked around the coffee table to Roseanne where he held out his hand to greet her. She was hesitant to accept; at first taken aback by his appearance like the others, but inevitably shook it.

“It’s nice to meet you Mrs. Conner. I think you’re really cool,” he said with a smile.

“Uh thanks. Nice to meet —”

“WHOA!” Jackie blurted. She had finally caught a glimpse of Prince after moving around her sister toward the couch.

“Look at those eyes! Are they real?” she said with the broadest eyes.

Prince softly chuckled.

“So, who are ya?” Roseanne uttered with intent to allow Prince to disregard her silly sister’s question.

“That’s Prince Lockett. He’s my new friend,” DJ said from the back of the room. The wait to say those grand words was finally over, and it made him feel proud. With a friend this awesome, his parents would be forced to cut him slack for skipping school.

“Wow! So what are ya? Some kinda alien ‘r what?” Roseanne asked.

“No ma’am. I’m just DJ’s friend. I was gonna stop him from getting in trouble today, but looks like I wasn’t too good at that,” he said, playing coy.

“Nah, uhhh… it’s alright I guess,” Roseanne said plainly glancing over at DJ near the stairs. For some reason Prince was intriguing. “So uh… you want some coffee or some’n? We got soda, popsicles —”

“Chips,” Darlene said and picked up the potato chip big from the couch.

“Yeah, I mean ya know, whatever ya want to make you comfortable,” Roseanne concluded.

“No I’m okay, really. Thanks,” Prince said.

“Well, have a seat. I mean hey I’m on my lunch break, so ya know… I got all day if ya wanna talk,” Rosanne said.

“Yeah, tell us about yourself,” Jackie added, taking off her suede jacket and throwing it on the coatrack that was David. “Where are you from? What do you like to do?” she asked and sat on the couch. The whole room’s attention was on Prince.

“I just came to hang out with DJ,” Prince said humbly. “I didn’t want to interrupt your lives or anything. You’ve all got a lot going on right now. The diner and —”

“Oh please. Mom’s probably at the diner anyway. She can handle it,” Jackie said and beamed comically.

Not another word could be spoken before —

“Yoohooooo!” A chipper voice sang from the kitchen. “I know somebody’s heeeeere!

Mrs. Harris, also called Bev by the family, frolicked her way into the living room with a grand old grin upon her face. Bev was Roseanne and Jackie’s gray haired, crochet capped, floral vested mother. She was commonly found at any given time in a good mood — no, a great and supercalifragilistic mood — that was until one of her loved ones would cast her emotions into the mud with a single criticism (rather rightly or wrongly). They – particularly her daughters – were experts at finding ways to lower her unrealistically cheerful attitude.

“Ooohhhh, is this another intervention? I haven’t had a sip since —” She stopped as she saw Prince Lockett.

“No mom! Gooo—away—please!” Jackie said, the very fragrance of her mother erecting a potent irritation in her. “Not everything is about you.”

“Ohhh, what an adorable child,” Bev said further ignoring her daughter; something that besides consuming red wine was one of her best coping abilities.

She approached Prince slowly—borderline cautious, but smiled in fascination as if at a petting zoo.

“One of your friends Darlene?”

Darlene snickered and sneered at her brother.

“He’s my friend grandma,” DJ said like he was hoping for approval. “He spent the whole day with me.”

“Well that’s what he says, but uh…” Roseanne looked at her son leaning from the back of the sofa, waiting for her finishing words. “…Never mind,” she said with a wide and friendly grin.

“I’ll say it,” Darlene calmly added. “You’re a super awesome, stylish hat-wearing, well-spoken, cute black kid, with freakishly rad eyes...” She gestured toward her brother, “DJ’s just a weird kid—with freakish rat eyes. So yeah, it’s still hard to believe it’s plausible for you to actually want to be his friend.”

“It’s pretty simple mom,” Darlene smugly finished.

Bev took note of the blue flame above Prince’s hat now that Darlene had mentioned it. She reached to touch it with a childish attraction —

“Oh my. Look at this cute little —”

BOOM!

A hot and forceful blue energy exploded from the top of Prince’s fez rattling the room itself and striking Bev like a Volkswagen to the chest, heaving her backward; she crashed against the mantle above the fireplace with bone shattering force before tumbling to the floor in a rainfall of plaster, glass, and precious broken picture frames.

Everyone (except Jackie) shot to their feet in alarm; Dan, Darlene, David, and Roseanne hurried to help her up with Prince moving behind them light-footed.

“My greatest apologies!” Prince cried. “I should’ve warned you about touching the fez. Sometimes it reacts that way to people!”

The whole family had been shaken by the small blast. As they helped Bev upward, they did so barely able to believe that she was still conscious and breathing. The force of the explosion itself was certainly great enough to have killed her.

“Ohhh—” Mrs. Harris said and coughed with blue smoke wheezing from her mouth. “I’m—fine.”

“Well ya look fine… uhh… thank God,” Roseanne said with a tender voice but a sour look.

“I LOVE THIS KID!” Jackie shouted throwing out her hands in such gleeful praise and insurmountable laughter that her teeth were bathing in the light from the ceiling.

Everyone else looked on; varied expressions but mostly confounded. Bev, finally catching her breath and adjusting her twisted blouse, was gawping in disbelief —

“Jackie, that’s not funny!”

“Oh it’s hilaaarious!!” Jackie rang joyfully. “Little guy, if I’d known you could do that, I would’ve prayed for you to become DJ’s friend sooner!”

“I could have been killed!” Bev fussed, wildly shaking her head.

“Ms. Harris, I don’t think —”

“Oh what do you know?!” Jackie snapped at David.

“Oh Jackie calm down,” Roseanne said.

“I think that’s a good sign that I should leave,” said Prince with some worry on his face.

“Aw man!” DJ expressed. “Do you have to? My parents don’t even want you to leave.”

“He’s right. Ya made our weird son hip, made Jackie laugh, brought the family together in one room, and nearly killed our mom. You made all our fondest wishes come true in one day,” said Roseanne.

“We’re on a roll. You wouldn’t happen to know the winning lottery numbers would ya?” Jackie said.

Prince grinned inside.

“I really have to go. But I enjoyed spending time with you today, DJ.”

DJ hurried around the couch to his friend, “Do you live around here? Maybe you can come over again tomorrow?”

Prince gave him a consoling smile and shook his hand goodbye.

“I’m really sorry about the hat thing Mrs. Harris.”

“No. Don’t apologize,” Jackie told him. “That’ll teach her to keep her hands to herself.”

“Well, you know mom: Anything shiny and dangerous can’t go untouched,” Roseanne said.

Prince walked to Dan beside the recliner and gave him a firm handshake; Dan smiling down at him.

“You’re a great dad Mr. Conner. Things will work out for the better with your job situation, but in the meantime try to cut back on the chili-cheese fries. You’ll thank me later.”

He moved to David and Darlene, “Your relationship will work out if you two communicate. David, give her some time, she’ll mature into—well—having feelings. And Darlene, give David time to mature into—uh—a man.”

Prince shook their hands and then walked over to Jackie.

“You’re an endearing woman Ms. Harris,” he said and held her hand softly.

Prince met Roseanne in the middle of the den.

“I admire your spunk and wit. You and your family have done well Mrs. Conner. I know everything will work finely for you all. But after it does, try to avoid the sauce would ya?” Prince said. He gently shook her hand and set off for the front door.

“It’s been great to meet you all! TaTa!”

The family waved, saying ‘goodbye’ in their own ways, yet feeling disheartened by his departure; DJ’s wave was the most hopeless.

Prince stepped out of the Conner house only to enter another.

“What tha—?”

He looked around the new house befuddled. This wasn’t his intended destination.

In front of him was a family of four relaxing in their den on a yellow vintage sofa with a groovy flower pattern. The presumable dad was a middle-aged man with a lethargic mien. His hand slid down his gut and rested at the button of his brown slacks, and by the looks of it, the height of his comfort had been achieved in that one gesture. Beside him was his copper-haired wife; beat red lip stick on and a flowery chiffon blouse over her black, skin-tight outfit. Her legs were neatly crossed and one was rocking incessantly, her bosoms bobbing happily in correspondence.

The couple’s two children were sitting next to them: their gum-chewing, platinum blonde daughter whose skirt was no more clothing than a tightly wrapped pillowcase around her body; and their baby-faced son who was half the height of the rest of the family with stubble fighting its way to the surface of his chin.

The family’s undivided attention had remained on the television screen as though they saw themselves in intimate one-on-one time with it. Not until the wife looked to the door—after long delay—did anyone in the room acknowledge Prince’s presence.

“Al,” she said with an inherent whine, but a pleasingly pretty smile. “Who’s that cute little boy in our house?”

Her husband didn’t even bother to look, “Hopefully the hit man I hired to kill you and end my misery Peg.”

The wife giggled ignorantly—

“Oh Al, don’t be ridiculous. You’re far too broke to ever afford a hit man, and far too lazy to take the time to hire one.”

Al shrugged because he knew she was right... and it was in fact the easiest response he could think of at the moment.

The son took a glance at Prince who was watching them, unentertained.

“Hey Kell. Looks like your pimp’s here,” he said then returned his devotion to the TV screen.

Kelly gave him a filthy grimace, “Daddy? The dwarf you adopted sixteen years ago won’t leave,” she moaned.

Al released a perturbed sigh, pointed his fingers to his temple, and miserably motioned to blow his brains out. His head dropped lifelessly back on the neck of the couch. His family was either oblivious or indifferent to his simulated suicide attempt—their TV program of far greater importance.

The family dog patted into the living room, leapt up onto the chair adjacent to the sofa and sat down. He was a full-grown Briard sheepdog, covered in a shaggy black and brownish coat with golden highlights. The Prince had arrived, to his delight, and resting his head pitiably on the seat, he thought openly to Prince, “Man, this family is pathetic. Even a lifetime subscription to Bitches in Heat couldn’t keep me in this hellhole. Please take me with you!”

“Here Buck! Come here boy,” Prince summoned obligingly.

Buck immediately, scuttled off the armchair and over to Prince at the door; his absentminded owners barely giving him a wink as he passed their more priceless electronic eye-magnet.

Prince stroked the walnut crown of Bucks head and rubbed his fluffy belly, murmuring loving words as the little blue flame over his fez expanded; and in a whirlwind of warm, cerulean pyro, the two of them disappeared.