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Prequel: Growing Up Gamma (Part 1)
May. 31st, 2009 08:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fikgirlMelburn Daniel Jackson was nine years old when he realized with sudden, stunning clarity that he knew exactly where his life was headed. Not only did he realize that he knew where he would be and what he would be doing when he was thirty, or forty, or even fifty, but he had a more important realization. On that particular spring day in the summer of his ninth year, Mel realized that he'd already met the girl he was going to marry. Fact was, he'd known her his whole life, their families were cozeni vi thalin as the Tzeltali said -- and his father loosely translated to mean "thicker than thieves," with the caveat that that translation was only close and not nearly precise enough -- so it only made sense that she would be the one.
He was an astute child, above average in intelligence or, as he often heard the adults say "too smart for his own good." Therefore it only made sense that lying in the shade of a pear tree with honey suckle vines twining about it, licking the sweet-tart juice of dark berries from his fingers that Mel should be able to think outside the box and look beyond him. He knew already that the worlds and the universe were made of happenstance and interactivity, that one thing influenced another and that today's events would be tomorrow's history.
Mel was smart enough to be pragmatic.
Of course, there was that little problem of the age difference. She was two and a half years his senior, and carried on like she was three more on top of it. She was bossy and brazen, the sort of girl who spoke her mind (and got grounded regularly for not stopping to think before she spoke). There was a wildness about her, a mischief and playfulness that was a siren's call. (Or maybe, as his mother and hers were so fond of saying, he and her brothers really didn't have "a lick of common sense" when it came to her shenanigans.) She was awkward and "all legs," but as tough as any boy and Mel had taken home a few knocks and bruises from rough housing with her.
He was only nine, but tilting his head back to watch her dangle upside down from an overhead branch, Mel knew he was right. And he knew that he loved her.
"I'm going to marry you," Mel announced, pushing his glasses up on his nose in a move that mirrored his father.
"Mel, you're such a tourtab," she responded and promptly lobbed the core of a pear at his head.
Mel ducked, his mind unchanged. One day, he was going to marry Miyera O'Neill.
He was an astute child, above average in intelligence or, as he often heard the adults say "too smart for his own good." Therefore it only made sense that lying in the shade of a pear tree with honey suckle vines twining about it, licking the sweet-tart juice of dark berries from his fingers that Mel should be able to think outside the box and look beyond him. He knew already that the worlds and the universe were made of happenstance and interactivity, that one thing influenced another and that today's events would be tomorrow's history.
Mel was smart enough to be pragmatic.
Of course, there was that little problem of the age difference. She was two and a half years his senior, and carried on like she was three more on top of it. She was bossy and brazen, the sort of girl who spoke her mind (and got grounded regularly for not stopping to think before she spoke). There was a wildness about her, a mischief and playfulness that was a siren's call. (Or maybe, as his mother and hers were so fond of saying, he and her brothers really didn't have "a lick of common sense" when it came to her shenanigans.) She was awkward and "all legs," but as tough as any boy and Mel had taken home a few knocks and bruises from rough housing with her.
He was only nine, but tilting his head back to watch her dangle upside down from an overhead branch, Mel knew he was right. And he knew that he loved her.
"I'm going to marry you," Mel announced, pushing his glasses up on his nose in a move that mirrored his father.
"Mel, you're such a tourtab," she responded and promptly lobbed the core of a pear at his head.
Mel ducked, his mind unchanged. One day, he was going to marry Miyera O'Neill.
