Roseanne’s Prince - 1

The long whine of a harmonica blared… from nowhere in particular; signifying that the setting of this home was in a small town called Lanford, Illinois; the town of loud-mouthed momma’s, bar-brawling daddies, and sociopathic teenagers.

Judging by the dingy green walls, gray carpet, and the brown plaid couch with a hand-stitched afghan draped over the head of it, this was definitely the Conner house: the embodiment of the Lanford experience.

The house was so quiet; the sound of the leaky kitchen faucet could pass for a sledgehammer against concrete; the hum of the fridge like a tenor singing to the audience of the coffee brown dining table and chairs placed before it. Silence in the Conner house was such a rare experience, Kodak could’ve made sound recorders just to properly call it a “Kodak Moment”.

But of course it wasn’t long before the patio door creaked open, and the youngest Conner, eleven year old DJ – short for David Jacob – tip toed into the kitchen in his blue-collar shirt and acid-washed jeans, his brown paper lunch bag in hand—courteously prepared for him by his mom earlier that morning. He peered around the wall into the den. Barely a minute ago had Mrs. Conner walked out the front door after sending her son out to the corner to await the school bus—or at least that’s what she thought.

DJ knew he was alone; he slammed the lunch bag into the trash bin beside him with disdain. Reaching for the mounted phone, a voice called from behind him —

“Hey!”

DJ jerked around.

Sitting at the kitchen table was a boy with chocolate brown skin; his eyes partially illuminated as if screening light bulbs. Beneath a black fez with a golden incrusted sun symbol on the front, were two black shoulder-length plaits. Queer to DJ was the light of a blue flame burning silently above the boy’s fez.

The child smiled sideways at him.

“Who are you?!” DJ asked with his blackish eyes agape.

“I’m Prince Lockett,” the boy said as he got up from the table and leaned against it. DJ could now see the boy was dressed in black overall shorts with an orange t-shirt underneath, black Keds on his feet, no socks. Like DJ, he was slender and about the same age and height (maybe taller by an inch or two).

“What are ya doin’?” Prince Lockett asked.

“How did you get in here?” DJ said.

“How did you get in here?” his Majesty playfully retorted.

“I live here!”

“Yea, now I live here too. See?” Prince picked up one of the six blue placemats from the table and displayed it to DJ, but it wasn’t blue anymore; it was orange and spelled out PRINCE in white balloon letters; big and as bold as day.

DJ looked at the placemat perplexed. He had obviously never seen that before in all the years he’d lived in that house, which was all his life.

“Oh, uhh… okay,” he said confused. “I was about to call my friend George to come over.”

“Neat,” Prince said with a smile. “Can I stay too?”

“Yea,” he replied and turned to pick up the phone. DJ was actually kind of excited that he wanted to stay. But then a thought flashed into mind: what if Prince Lockett liked George more than him? Or what if George annoyed him with all his of stupid rambling? No. George was going to scare him away for sure.

“Uh, maybe we can just play my video game instead. I have a Nintendo.”

“Okay, sounds like fun,” Prince replied and headed into the den ahead of DJ. He kneeled to the coffee table where the Nintendo console waited.

“Do you want some chips?” DJ asked.

“Okay,” said Prince.

DJ grabbed the chips from the pantry shelf, walked into the den, and sat them down on the table in front of Prince who said, “Thanks!”

“You’re welcome.”

DJ started the game and began showing his new friend how to play Cybernator. Prince was a quick learner, and as friends should, they took turns playing, going in and out to the pantry and the fridge, eating snacks and talking about DJ’s life in Lanford. He told Prince a lot about him, which he actually already knew, but hearing it through DJ’s own words and from his perspective was more entertaining.

A few hours passed and noon time rolled around; they realized they had spent more time on Cybernator than they thought. In no time, the game had become a mere screensaver to Prince.

“Okay. Beat that level,” Prince said and huffed with boredom; lounging sideways on the couch. “What other games do you have?”

“Not many,” DJ replied a bit embarrassed, “My parents don’t pay me enough allowance to get new games and when I ask them to pay for it, they just complain about money.”

“Yea, I know what you mean,” Prince said.

Then a light bulb went on and he pulled himself up spiritedly on the couch. “Hey! Maybe we can try out some new games,” he said.

“But this is all I have.”

“You wanna see what games are gonna look like in the future?”

“Yeah!” said DJ. “But how?”

Prince clapped his hands—Clap Clap!

POP!

In thin rays of orange light, not unlike a mini sunset, a brand new Nintendo 64 game console materialized on the coffee table. The cords and all were there; plugged into the TV set, and ready to play.

“Oh my god!” DJ panted, equally astounded and mesmerized. “How did you do that?!”

Prince giggled.

“That’s the Nintendo 64. It doesn’t come out for another—three years, I believe.”

“Wow,” DJ said. He had barely heard what Prince said—lightly touching the console as if expecting it to be some sort of hologram. “What kind of games does it have?”

Clap Clap!

POP!

A transparent orange storage bin materialized next to the coffee table about the same size as the table itself; it was full of game cartridges for the Nintendo 64. DJ was beyond ecstatic. He gawked at Prince for a moment, then eventually picked up his jaw before rifling through the bin like a ravenous game addict.

By Prince’s suggestion, the boys played Mario Kart 64 for another hour, which eventually escalated into a gameathon; one almost for the sake of gluttony, and returning to Mario Kart 64 in intervals as it had easily become their favorite. DJ could’ve definitely gotten used to having a friend like Prince around. He’d never met anyone like him before, and much less could anyone do the things he could.

“Oh no! Red shell!” DJ hollered.

“Hurry! Turn the corner! Turn the corner!” Prince yelled back.

Both boys were swaying and jerking their controllers left and right; yammering insults at King Bowser and Peach discriminately.

“Hey watch me crash Bowser into the railing!” Prince said.

As the kart careened across half of the TV screen and collided with the railing, the boys laughed with hard enough hysteria to make a mad man gape in concern.

Suddenly Prince’s laughter ceased and he paused the game.

“What?” DJ said looking at him with potato chip crumbs falling away from his lips.

“Your sister’s on her way. Don’t tell her about the games or what I did, okay?”

DJ nodded quickly, his Eddie Munsterish bangs bobbing on his forehead.

 

Roseanne’s Prince - 2

In the fraction of a second it took for the doorknob to turn, the Nintendo 64 and all of its games vanished and the living room was back to normal, with Cybernator paused on the TV screen.

Darlene Conner strode in and DJ jumped up from the sofa. His game day was abruptly put on ice and a look was smeared across his face that told her just how busted he was.

DJ’s sister Darlene was a sixteen year old girl with a hobby for writing dark fiction, rebelling against the status quo, raising her own expectations of herself and throwing them in her family’s face. With her vampiric pale skin and a naturally lazy expression; her long crimpy painted black hair, and shoes that could pass for combat boots, Darlene was most likely exactly what the casual observer would assume of her, cynical and unfriendly.

With a backpack hanging over one shoulder, Darlene had just gotten home from college in Michigan and had a not-so-friendly interaction with her boyfriend at The Lunch Box – her first stop since the bus station. She wanted to come home and unwind a bit before the rest of the family could beat her there, but to her pleasant surprise her peculiar kid brother was at home in the middle of a school day and with company no less.

“What are you doin’ here?” she asked already amused.

“I’m—” DJ thought quickly and swallowed the rest of his chip. “Sick.” He coughed fallibly.

“Ahh, so you’re skippin’ school huh?” she said then noticed Prince kneeling on the couch, “And who’s your friend?”

“Darlene, please don’t tell mom. Please!” DJ pled.

“Quit begging. The last thing I want to do is help her out,” she said with a smirk. “But she’s gonna know what’s going on the minute she waddles through that door.”

“How come?” DJ asked.

“Clues bonehead,” Darlene replied as she headed for the couch. “Mom monitors the chips.”

As she picked up the bag of chips, she took another glance at Prince who seemed to be hanging onto her words with as much attention as DJ.

“Whoa, what’s up with your friend’s eyes?” she said leaning in on him.

Prince drew back feeling a bit intruded.

“I don’t know,” DJ replied. “They’re just like that.”

“Yeah, you might want to get that checked pal,” Darlene said and stood back upright, flinging her dark curls out of her eye.

The front door opened and in walked David Healy; Darlene’s sixteen year old longtime boyfriend. He had a small stature, unkempt brown hair in careless coils, and eyes that confessed of insecurities.

“Darlene, I think we should—” DJ caught his attention. “Oh—hey DJ. Shouldn’t you be in school right now?”

“No, go away,” DJ flatly replied.

“What do you want David?” Darlene asked with an exhausted sigh.

“I think we should talk.”

“What’s to talk about? We’re not a couple anymore, remember?”

“You should apologize to her for giving her that ultimatum David,” His Highness the Prince said breaking his silence.

“What? What are you talking about?” David asked moving to the arm of the couch, his eyes creasing with annoyance.

“You tried to make her choose between you and school. Don’t you think that was selfish?” he continued.

“Uhhh… yeah. I—I guess,” David answered. His mind seemed to be drawing a blank.

“Yea. He’s right,” said Darlene. She smiled to Prince, “Thanks little guy.”

Prince nodded approvingly.

“But you were the one being a jerk at the diner,” David accused Darlene.

“She’s always a jerk. That’s how she is,” Prince said.

“What?! I am not,” Darlene defended.

“Yes you are. You never do anything nice for anyone around here. That’s why you don’t have many friends. And the only guys you consider a relationship with – in my great opinion – are better off with other men. But then again, why compare oranges and tangerines?”

David chuckled alone before DJ finally caught up with the analogy and burst into laughter pointing at his sister.

“What the hell? Are you saying I’m like a guy? I thought you were on my side,” Darlene said and flung her backpack on the couch before David.

“Oh I am,” Prince calmly retorted. “But think of me as a square: I’m even on all four sides.”

The remnant of DJ’s laughter further frustrated Darlene.

“What are you laughing at dorkwad? You’ve got a better chance at winning an ugly contest than getting a girlfriend of any kind.”

“Hey, that’s not nice,” David said.

“Yeah, neither is that fact that you can’t touch the top of the door frames standing on your tiptoes, but you don’t hear me running to their defense,” she scoffed.

Prince couldn’t hold back a good chuckle.

“Whoa she’s on a roll today folks,” he said.

“Thanks. I try,” she replied nonchalantly.

David shot back at Darlene; Darlene shot off at both of them, and DJ shouted between them with attempts to be the loudest of the three. Prince watched on entertained.

The back door opened, but no one else noticed but Prince. In walked Dan Conner; the burly, strong armed, disciplinary, yet comical patriarch of the Conner clan; a fine father about town. Having been laid off from work a few months ago, he was on a diligent job hunt as of late. But without much luck in the matter, he just ended up right back at home; today a bit earlier than usual. Hearing all the commotion, he rushed into the living room.

“Heeeeyyyy heyyyy!” he yelled, breaking up the argument. “What’s goin’ on in here? DJ, what the hell are ya doin’ at home this time a day?!”

“I was gonna tell you Mister Conner,” said an appeasing David.

“Of course wimp boy was,” Darlene added.

“Who is this?” asked Dan looking at Prince. Anyone’s response at this point would have sufficed. His anger subsided however upon the sight of his eyes; looking strangely at them.

“What’s the deal with the eyes? Are those natural?” Dan said.

“I don’t know. Ask Marvin the Martian over there.”

“Shut up Darlene!”

“You shut up!”

“BOTH OF YOU!—just be quiet,” Dan yelled. “Now, I don’t know what you’re doin’ home right now DJ, but your friend’s gonna have to go home and you’re goin’ to your room, ‘cause you’re grounded.”

“But I don’t want to go yet,” His Highness boldly spoke.

As Dan looked into Prince’s eyes, he couldn’t help but feel the need to conciliate him.

“Well—uhhh—you don’t have to go home… uhh—you can stay here. But DJ’s got to go to his room.”

“I know, but it’s kind of my fault though…” Prince said and kneeled to face the back of the couch where Mr. Conner was. Dan looked slightly clueless, mostly entranced by the boy’s strange eyes.

“What happened was: I came to tell DJ not to play hooky. But then I got sidetracked when I saw his video game and so when he offered to show me how to play, I couldn’t resist.”

“I can’t even believe someone as cool as you would even want to hang with a dweeb like DJ,” Darlene said.

“We’re kids right? That’s what we do; make friends with each other,” Prince responded.

“Well I guess you should’ve told him sooner, but it’s too late now,” Dan continued with and unyielding authority. “DJ you’re grounded until further notice, so say goodbye to your friend —”

“Wait… It’s not over yet,” Prince said and looked to the front door.

The seconds soundlessly ticked away, and the group looked in wonder and anticipation.