storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2008-06-12 09:38 am
storypaint) wrote2008-06-12 09:38 am
Entry tags:
Man (Paulie gen)
Comm: none
Words: 880
Title: Man
Fandom: Juno
Pairing: Paulie gen
Rating: incredibly G
Disclaimer: Juno is the property of Fox Searchlight and Diablo Cody-- not me. This fanfic is a derivative of canon material that is not my property. I do not profit from these writings. The opinions and actions expressed in these stories are not necessarily the views and beliefs of the original author or me.
Note: No one offered to Jewish-beta this for me, so any errors are totally mine and will be corrected if you bring them up.
Excerpt: "Why so glum, mi amigo? That hat would cheer up anyone!" someone spoke from behind him. Paulie jumped and tried to self-consciously adjust his yamulke before the someone snatched it from his head.
When you turn thirteen, his mother had said, you'll become a man. Harold Bleeker didn't care what faith his son was raised into, as long as it kept his wife happy and silent. And his mother was very firm about this, taking Paulie to Hebrew school every Wednesday on the dot of seven. So Paulie learned.
Maybe Carole's enthusiasm was provoked by memories of childhood family reunions; maybe Gramma Steiner's face hovered in her mind, scolding her for marrying a Gentile (but they had been young and so in love that it didn't seem to matter then). Whatever the reason, she left her son and old ghosts at the temple on Wednesdays while she went shopping down the street.
Paulie didn't know what to think, himself. Thirteen was awfully young to become an adult. What about high school? He didn't want to have to quit school and go work in his father's shop, sawdust under his fingernails, coarsening his voice. But Paulie always did what his mother asked of him because she loved him very much and wanted him to be happy.
He learned to read the vowels between the consonants, the words in his mouth stretching his tongue and his brain. They were prayers, talismans of strength. If he were to become a man, he'd need that strength. He didn't feel very confident most of the time.
Paulie turned thirteen on October 14 and that Saturday he read the words and he wore the cap and he stood up really tall, trying to be manly. His mother had planned a huge party with cars as the theme. He'd sort of grown out of cars when he was eight, but he'd had trouble convincing his mother of that fact, for some reason. Cars it was.
He wasn't having a bad time at the party. He danced with all of his girl cousins and he'd palled around a bit with his only male cousin, Derrick, until Derrick started talking about action figures, which Paulie thought was pretty boring.
But now, for some reason, he was sitting on the curb outside the hotel, staring out into the parking lot. The moon was low in the sky. Paulie pushed his glasses back up on his nose and tried to feel adult. He really didn't feel any different. He took the glasses off experimentally. Now the world was blurry, but not really any different.
"Why so glum, mi amigo? That hat would cheer up anyone!" someone spoke from behind him. Paulie jumped and tried to self-consciously adjust his yamulke before the someone snatched it from his head.
"Totally boss," the person said, sitting down on the curb beside him. Paulie squinted and made out the vague form of a ponytailed person, presumably a girl. She was turning his hat over and over in her hands. Thoughtfully she shoved the little hat on her head. Paulie opened his mouth to protest and put his glasses back on instead.
"Is it supposed to be too small, or did it shrink in the wash?" she asked.
"I don't wash it, really," Paulie volunteered. The girl shuddered and handed it back to him between two fingers. He put it back on.
"It means I'm a man," he said, blushing furiously. He hoped she didn't think he was flirting with her. That was something men did, wasn't it? His mom said he couldn't have a girlfriend until he was sixteen. She'd been quite firm about it.
"Spiffy," the girl said, admiring. She wiped her hand on her jeans and then offered it to him. "I'm Juno MacGuff. My dad is here for the HVAC convention in Ballroom Two."
Paulie snickered. Surely that was a fake name.
"Well, what's your name then, hotshot?" she replied.
"Paulie Bleeker," he replied, shaking her hand. She shook hands like it was a contest, pumping his hand with enthusiasm.
"Bleeker, huh?" she said thoughtfully. "What are you doing here, Bleek?"
"I told you. Becoming a man," he replied, self-conscious as she looked him up and down. He fought down an urge to adjust the hat again and pushed his glasses up instead.
"You look pretty short for a man," Juno accused. "How old are you?"
Paulie swallowed. "Thirteen."
"Boss!" she said happily. "I'm thirteen, too. That means my stepmom can't boss me around anymore, right?"
Paulie considered. "I'm not sure it works if you're not Jewish. Are you Jewish?"
"I don't know. Is Unitarian Jewish?"
Paulie allowed how likely it was not. Juno snapped her fingers. Then she grinned again.
"Well, hey, you're having a party, right? Why aren't you in there?"
"I don't feel very much like a man right now," he confided quietly.
"Well, I don't feel very Unitarian," she replied. "Can I crash your party?"
"Okay," Paulie said, getting up and brushing his pants off. He offered her a hand. She took it and sprang upward, tossing her arm across his shoulders in a familiar way.
"How did you feel about guitar, Bleek?" she asked as they strode to the door.
"I... always wanted to learn," he said. Juno grinned.
"Oh, do I have a proposition for you," she said joyfully as the pair of them walked back into the well-lit room.
And for the first time that day, Paulie smiled.
Words: 880
Title: Man
Fandom: Juno
Pairing: Paulie gen
Rating: incredibly G
Disclaimer: Juno is the property of Fox Searchlight and Diablo Cody-- not me. This fanfic is a derivative of canon material that is not my property. I do not profit from these writings. The opinions and actions expressed in these stories are not necessarily the views and beliefs of the original author or me.
Note: No one offered to Jewish-beta this for me, so any errors are totally mine and will be corrected if you bring them up.
Excerpt: "Why so glum, mi amigo? That hat would cheer up anyone!" someone spoke from behind him. Paulie jumped and tried to self-consciously adjust his yamulke before the someone snatched it from his head.
When you turn thirteen, his mother had said, you'll become a man. Harold Bleeker didn't care what faith his son was raised into, as long as it kept his wife happy and silent. And his mother was very firm about this, taking Paulie to Hebrew school every Wednesday on the dot of seven. So Paulie learned.
Maybe Carole's enthusiasm was provoked by memories of childhood family reunions; maybe Gramma Steiner's face hovered in her mind, scolding her for marrying a Gentile (but they had been young and so in love that it didn't seem to matter then). Whatever the reason, she left her son and old ghosts at the temple on Wednesdays while she went shopping down the street.
Paulie didn't know what to think, himself. Thirteen was awfully young to become an adult. What about high school? He didn't want to have to quit school and go work in his father's shop, sawdust under his fingernails, coarsening his voice. But Paulie always did what his mother asked of him because she loved him very much and wanted him to be happy.
He learned to read the vowels between the consonants, the words in his mouth stretching his tongue and his brain. They were prayers, talismans of strength. If he were to become a man, he'd need that strength. He didn't feel very confident most of the time.
Paulie turned thirteen on October 14 and that Saturday he read the words and he wore the cap and he stood up really tall, trying to be manly. His mother had planned a huge party with cars as the theme. He'd sort of grown out of cars when he was eight, but he'd had trouble convincing his mother of that fact, for some reason. Cars it was.
He wasn't having a bad time at the party. He danced with all of his girl cousins and he'd palled around a bit with his only male cousin, Derrick, until Derrick started talking about action figures, which Paulie thought was pretty boring.
But now, for some reason, he was sitting on the curb outside the hotel, staring out into the parking lot. The moon was low in the sky. Paulie pushed his glasses back up on his nose and tried to feel adult. He really didn't feel any different. He took the glasses off experimentally. Now the world was blurry, but not really any different.
"Why so glum, mi amigo? That hat would cheer up anyone!" someone spoke from behind him. Paulie jumped and tried to self-consciously adjust his yamulke before the someone snatched it from his head.
"Totally boss," the person said, sitting down on the curb beside him. Paulie squinted and made out the vague form of a ponytailed person, presumably a girl. She was turning his hat over and over in her hands. Thoughtfully she shoved the little hat on her head. Paulie opened his mouth to protest and put his glasses back on instead.
"Is it supposed to be too small, or did it shrink in the wash?" she asked.
"I don't wash it, really," Paulie volunteered. The girl shuddered and handed it back to him between two fingers. He put it back on.
"It means I'm a man," he said, blushing furiously. He hoped she didn't think he was flirting with her. That was something men did, wasn't it? His mom said he couldn't have a girlfriend until he was sixteen. She'd been quite firm about it.
"Spiffy," the girl said, admiring. She wiped her hand on her jeans and then offered it to him. "I'm Juno MacGuff. My dad is here for the HVAC convention in Ballroom Two."
Paulie snickered. Surely that was a fake name.
"Well, what's your name then, hotshot?" she replied.
"Paulie Bleeker," he replied, shaking her hand. She shook hands like it was a contest, pumping his hand with enthusiasm.
"Bleeker, huh?" she said thoughtfully. "What are you doing here, Bleek?"
"I told you. Becoming a man," he replied, self-conscious as she looked him up and down. He fought down an urge to adjust the hat again and pushed his glasses up instead.
"You look pretty short for a man," Juno accused. "How old are you?"
Paulie swallowed. "Thirteen."
"Boss!" she said happily. "I'm thirteen, too. That means my stepmom can't boss me around anymore, right?"
Paulie considered. "I'm not sure it works if you're not Jewish. Are you Jewish?"
"I don't know. Is Unitarian Jewish?"
Paulie allowed how likely it was not. Juno snapped her fingers. Then she grinned again.
"Well, hey, you're having a party, right? Why aren't you in there?"
"I don't feel very much like a man right now," he confided quietly.
"Well, I don't feel very Unitarian," she replied. "Can I crash your party?"
"Okay," Paulie said, getting up and brushing his pants off. He offered her a hand. She took it and sprang upward, tossing her arm across his shoulders in a familiar way.
"How did you feel about guitar, Bleek?" she asked as they strode to the door.
"I... always wanted to learn," he said. Juno grinned.
"Oh, do I have a proposition for you," she said joyfully as the pair of them walked back into the well-lit room.
And for the first time that day, Paulie smiled.