Wolf Moon (challenge 84)
Wolf Moon, Rose Tyler, PG, 746 words
The Bad Wolf scattered herself through time and space. Her trail through Rose Tyler's life was rather more complicated than a road map to Satellite Five. Rose simply didn't recognize the key she had always been holding until she was presented with the right door.
When Rose Tyler was nine months old, her Grandma and Grandpa Prentice came to stay with Jackie and her small daughter for New Year’s. Rose cooed and burbled, as babies do. Jackie cried: Pete would never see another January.
As the minutes trickled down to 1988, the moon rose, bright and huge in the sky. Jackie, cradling her sleeping child, stood on the balcony staring sightlessly into the night.
“Wolf moon, Americans call that,” her father murmured, slipping up behind her. “Dangerous, my mates on the base said, back in the war. But Jacks,” he squeezed her shoulder gently, “it’ll pass. You’re gonna be OK, you ‘n Rose. Come inside now, love.”
For the first time, Jackie noticed the cold, felt Rose shivering in her sleep. She allowed her family to draw her back into the warmth.
The moon shone on.
*
When Rose was five, her favorite fairy tale was Little Red Riding Hood.
“Love, why d’you like that story so? You always wanna hear it!”
Rose giggled and tossed her head, ash-blond plaits whipping around her impish grin.
“She has fun! There’s snow, and she goes by herself ‘n saves her gran, and she’s not scared, not even of the Big Bad Wolf! Please, Mum, tell it again. Please?”
Although she never could see how facing a monster was fun, exactly, Jackie always did.
When Rose begged for a red cape, Jackie bought her a bright red zip-up hoodie. She wore it everywhere, until it became more holes than jacket. After that, all her life Rose always seemed to have a red hoodie.
*
When she was twelve, Rose came third at the London All-City Junior Gymnastics competition. She stepped up onto the podium, grinning ear to ear, short and skinny in her leotard and red team jacket, with the Wolves’ mascot looking on from the immense mural behind her. Jackie reflected that perhaps all that Red Riding Hood nonsense had paid off after all.
*
“I don’ like you goin’ with him, Rose! He’s not-”
“Not what, Mum?” Rose was fourteen, in a skirt that reached for twenty and too much eyeliner. “Not your type? Or not Mickey?”
“Rose, ‘m not talkin’ about Mickey! He just-he’s too old for you, an’ he’s got airs!”
Luke Malcolm, sixteen and pretty, always smirked when he thought Jackie would not see: at her job, at the Estate, at their flat. Mickey, poor lad, he got the worst of it. Luke mocked him openly any time Rose looked away, and he was too sweet on her to say anything.
“Airs. God, ‘s always airs with you, isn’t it? Well, what have we got, Mum? A council flat and a load of cousins? So I’ve got Luke… ‘s my life!”
“You ashamed of me now? My own daughter, for some boy who's no better’n us, with only one thing on his mind? He’s just a bloke, Rose. An’ I don’t think he’s a very nice one, either!”
Jackie slammed the tea things onto the counter, and Rose stomped away. She yanked on her new jacket, black leather-fake, of course.
“’M goin’ out, Mum. ‘s my life, you hear? Mine.” She slammed out of the flat.
Jackie knew it would only be a matter of time, and it was: just ten days before Rose came to her senses, gave him the boot, and became Rose again.
It was a really great year, that year. And then there was Jimmy.
*
The last customers finally, finally drifted out of Henrik’s.
“Toss you-kids’ stuff or changin’ rooms?”
“Nah, I’ll take changin’. You took that weird bloke all through the lingerie section…” Rose giggled.
“Oh, he was a proper creeper! Thanks,” Ashley sighed. “I’d much rather pick up toys. An’ it’ll be quick.”
“Race you!”
Ashley took of for children’s and rose counted her karma points. She hated cleaning up sale days; people left things everywhere, like they owned the place. And this had been a label preview, a completely mad day, Wolf Bay, Wolf Bay, Wolf Bay tossed everywhere.
Hmm, she thought. Terrible dress, bleedin’ awful blouse, all ruffles, pants for a granny. Who would want to buy this crap? Oh, nice jacket, though. She held up her find, high-collared navy leather. Only decent thing… Twenty-six hangers, twenty-seven, twenty-eight…
Rose would still have made it out right with Ashley, had Sam not ambushed her with the lottery cash and sent her on one last trip down the lift.
-
Notes:
The "Wolf Moon" is, according to some Native Americans, traditionally the full moon in January.
Luke Malcolm: Lukos, in Greek, means "wolf". Malcolm does not actually mean "bad", but River Tam says, "Mal. Bad, in the Latin," so we'll go with it.
Inspired by pictures 4 and 5 in the prompt post...terrible internet, I'd include them otherwise.
Also at my fic journal here.
The Bad Wolf scattered herself through time and space. Her trail through Rose Tyler's life was rather more complicated than a road map to Satellite Five. Rose simply didn't recognize the key she had always been holding until she was presented with the right door.
When Rose Tyler was nine months old, her Grandma and Grandpa Prentice came to stay with Jackie and her small daughter for New Year’s. Rose cooed and burbled, as babies do. Jackie cried: Pete would never see another January.
As the minutes trickled down to 1988, the moon rose, bright and huge in the sky. Jackie, cradling her sleeping child, stood on the balcony staring sightlessly into the night.
“Wolf moon, Americans call that,” her father murmured, slipping up behind her. “Dangerous, my mates on the base said, back in the war. But Jacks,” he squeezed her shoulder gently, “it’ll pass. You’re gonna be OK, you ‘n Rose. Come inside now, love.”
For the first time, Jackie noticed the cold, felt Rose shivering in her sleep. She allowed her family to draw her back into the warmth.
The moon shone on.
*
When Rose was five, her favorite fairy tale was Little Red Riding Hood.
“Love, why d’you like that story so? You always wanna hear it!”
Rose giggled and tossed her head, ash-blond plaits whipping around her impish grin.
“She has fun! There’s snow, and she goes by herself ‘n saves her gran, and she’s not scared, not even of the Big Bad Wolf! Please, Mum, tell it again. Please?”
Although she never could see how facing a monster was fun, exactly, Jackie always did.
When Rose begged for a red cape, Jackie bought her a bright red zip-up hoodie. She wore it everywhere, until it became more holes than jacket. After that, all her life Rose always seemed to have a red hoodie.
*
When she was twelve, Rose came third at the London All-City Junior Gymnastics competition. She stepped up onto the podium, grinning ear to ear, short and skinny in her leotard and red team jacket, with the Wolves’ mascot looking on from the immense mural behind her. Jackie reflected that perhaps all that Red Riding Hood nonsense had paid off after all.
*
“I don’ like you goin’ with him, Rose! He’s not-”
“Not what, Mum?” Rose was fourteen, in a skirt that reached for twenty and too much eyeliner. “Not your type? Or not Mickey?”
“Rose, ‘m not talkin’ about Mickey! He just-he’s too old for you, an’ he’s got airs!”
Luke Malcolm, sixteen and pretty, always smirked when he thought Jackie would not see: at her job, at the Estate, at their flat. Mickey, poor lad, he got the worst of it. Luke mocked him openly any time Rose looked away, and he was too sweet on her to say anything.
“Airs. God, ‘s always airs with you, isn’t it? Well, what have we got, Mum? A council flat and a load of cousins? So I’ve got Luke… ‘s my life!”
“You ashamed of me now? My own daughter, for some boy who's no better’n us, with only one thing on his mind? He’s just a bloke, Rose. An’ I don’t think he’s a very nice one, either!”
Jackie slammed the tea things onto the counter, and Rose stomped away. She yanked on her new jacket, black leather-fake, of course.
“’M goin’ out, Mum. ‘s my life, you hear? Mine.” She slammed out of the flat.
Jackie knew it would only be a matter of time, and it was: just ten days before Rose came to her senses, gave him the boot, and became Rose again.
It was a really great year, that year. And then there was Jimmy.
*
The last customers finally, finally drifted out of Henrik’s.
“Toss you-kids’ stuff or changin’ rooms?”
“Nah, I’ll take changin’. You took that weird bloke all through the lingerie section…” Rose giggled.
“Oh, he was a proper creeper! Thanks,” Ashley sighed. “I’d much rather pick up toys. An’ it’ll be quick.”
“Race you!”
Ashley took of for children’s and rose counted her karma points. She hated cleaning up sale days; people left things everywhere, like they owned the place. And this had been a label preview, a completely mad day, Wolf Bay, Wolf Bay, Wolf Bay tossed everywhere.
Hmm, she thought. Terrible dress, bleedin’ awful blouse, all ruffles, pants for a granny. Who would want to buy this crap? Oh, nice jacket, though. She held up her find, high-collared navy leather. Only decent thing… Twenty-six hangers, twenty-seven, twenty-eight…
Rose would still have made it out right with Ashley, had Sam not ambushed her with the lottery cash and sent her on one last trip down the lift.
-
Notes:
The "Wolf Moon" is, according to some Native Americans, traditionally the full moon in January.
Luke Malcolm: Lukos, in Greek, means "wolf". Malcolm does not actually mean "bad", but River Tam says, "Mal. Bad, in the Latin," so we'll go with it.
Inspired by pictures 4 and 5 in the prompt post...terrible internet, I'd include them otherwise.
Also at my fic journal here.