Saturday, November 19, 2016

Generation Nine — Chapter Three: Third Strike and You're Out?

           Awakened to a shower of sunlight through his bedroom window, Seth crawled slowly out of bed. This dating thing just wasn’t working out for him. But, he realized, scrolling through his contact list, there was at least one more Sim he should go out with before he gave up altogether and sought to be a monk on Mount Athos. Or worse, consult with the Whispering Wishing Well in Magnolia Park.
    Angelina Goodrich. She used to sit three rows over and one seat behind him in Simlish Class. She had a wonderful laugh, which she employed often. He could only guess that she was good-Natured, or cheerful at least. Either were good qualities.
    “Angelina, this is Seth Cantrell. I’m doing fine, how about you? Great. So, I was wondering if you’ve been to San Myshuno and if you’d like to meet me there at the park. That's right Myshuno Meadows. Okay, that would be fine, see you there.”
    Seth got himself up, showered, dressed and grabbed a quick bite to eat. Then he hurried over to San Myshuno. He was barely there when Angelina walked up.
    “Seth, you look great. Working out? I don’t know what it is, but there’s something different.”
    “Well, thanks. Maybe it’s my new duds.”
    “That could be it,” she said, then sighed heavily.
    “What is it? What’s wrong?”

    “Oh, nothing. I just get these bouts where I’m all but smothered with sadness. It comes on out of nowhere and for no reason. No reason at all. I’m sorry. This wasn’t a good idea and I’m not going to be good company at all. See ya, and thanks for calling me.”
    “Ah, but, wait — Angelina. Wait! Don’t … go.” Off she walked. Seth just stood there. Was it him? As he meandered back to Willow Creek, the thought occurred to him that now was the time to seek help from that mystical well he’d heard so much about growing up. Reaching Magnolia Park, he took a quick look around. The last person he wanted to run into was Darling Walsh. No sign of her.
    Approaching the well, the thing looked ominous. The plaster face had a hood draped over its head. Trying to recall what he’d been told, he remembered that it was best to make the well an offering, first. So, he grabbed §1000.00 out of his pockets and threw the coins in. Reaching the bottom they made quite a constant plunking sound. Suddenly, a flash of light burst from the center of the well, almost blinding him.
    “What is your wish?” came a voice. “After your generous gift, I might even grant it.”
    Seth took in a deep breath and let it out again. “I wish … I wish for romance.”
    Suddenly, the voice was laughing. Mocking him. “There will be no romance for you. Loser.”
    “What? I gave you §1000.00 in coin just to have you mock me? What a joke. That’s it. I need a drink!” Seth made his way over to the Desert Springs Lounge. The Mic. was standing in the corner, unoccupied. He took it in hand and belted out a sorrowful folk song. There were only a few Sims in the room, but most of them turned and gave him their attention. And a few applauded once he was done.
    That helped, but only marginally. He walked over to the bar and ordered a drink. The mixologist on duty was rather attractive. Her name tag read Mizuki. Mizuki, he said over and over in his mind. Mizuki. What a wonderful name for a sweet-faced girl. Taking a seat he struck up a conversation. She was absolutely delightful. Playful and very accommodating to the patrons. Seth found himself utterly taken by her. Smitten. He had it bad, too.

    “Hey, Mizuki,” he said after she finished serving another patron. “When do you get off?”
    “At the end of my shift,” she said, coyly.
    “Yeah, I kind of gathered that, but when. What time?”
    “In just a few minutes.”
    “Good. Would you like to go to San Myshuno with me?”
    When the other mixologist arrived, Mizuki went into the back room and changed out of her ‘uniform’. “I’m all ready to go,” she said, smiling. The two traveled the few miles to the new city. They talked and really seemed to get on well. Then Seth got ahead of himself. He got down on one knee and Mizuki almost looked horrified.  Gently, she pushed his hand away, and turned him down. He had to talk long and hard to get her over the ‘scare’. That’s when he learned she was non-committal. She also had a propensity to be on the gloomy side. Suddenly, that didn’t matter to him. They flirted madly, and both got so heated they were on the verge of boiling over.
    “Say, let’s go to the Bluffs,” he found himself blurting out.
    “Yes, please,” she said, smiling.

    Once they got there the two looked around for a suitable plant. Woohoo was on both of their minds. And while Seth would much rather they marry first, his hormones were doing the talking at the moment. Jumping into a nice fat bush, they both gave into their yearnings. Seth finally felt like the hunk others said he was. Mizuki made him feel wonderful. Wanted, desired. She was just so sweet. He knew he loved her. Getting her to marry him may be yet another hurtle, but at least he finally got her to capitulate and move in to the legacy house with him. They slept together, made woohoo a few more times and then finally gave into the fatigue and slept.
    In the morning, Seth sprang out of bed and went downstairs to fix breakfast. He couldn’t wait to introduce Mizuki to his family. Sadly, before he could, the stove caught on fire. He was able to extinguish himself, thankfully, but breakfast was ruined. Mizuki came down stairs.

   “Seth,” she said. “What happened you’re all blackened like fish.”
    “Old family tradition,” he said, with a smirk. “I hope you like burnt eggs and toast.”
    “I have something to say to you, first. Seth Cantrell. You tricked me. I turned down your marriage proposal because I’m just not ready to be attached. But, you have found a way to attach me to you anyway.”
    “What, by inviting you to move in?”
    “Stay the night, is what you said. I stayed and what do I get for it? I’ll tell you what. Look,” she held up a little device that looked like an electronic thermometer. “What does it say?” she demanded.
    “It doesn’t say anything. I see a pink line.”
    “Exactly. I’m pregnant. And you’re a rat!”



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