It's Gary's birthday, and he's a tad (a rather large tad) grumpy, but this time for good reasons. But after a surprise package from an old friend, Gary comes to realize that life is....good.

Disclaimers: I don't own Patrick, Gary, Marissa, Nicky the Nose, Han Solo, Luke Skywalker, or anybody else for that matter. Everyone (except the Star Wars dudes) belong to CBS and Sony TriStar. The song belongs to the band LFO, though some parts of the lyrics have been changed due to content. (And the Silly Putty egg that Gary didn't get it stuck to my newspaper) :)

It's a little corny, but it made me feel good, so okay!

Spoilers: Tiny ones from "Wild Card," "Blackout," and a slightly larger ones from "Fate" and "Angels and Devils"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Life Is Good
by Ally McKnight

'Five more steps,' Gary told himself.  Five more steps. Then, McGinty's. Shower. Hot, hot,
shower. Hot, hot, hot, coffee. Ahhhh, coffee....

Gary ignored all the curious stares from pedestrians as he threw open the door to
McGinty's. Gary Hobson did realize how odd he must've looked, caked in mud, but at the
moment he only had three things on his mind. Shower. Coffee. Bed. Warm bed.

Gary walked slowly to the office, oblivious to the questioning eyes of the bar patrons. In
fact, he could care less what they were thinking. He had one destination. His loft. His loft
with the shower, the coffee, and the bed.

"Hey, birthday boy," Marissa greeted him as he entered the office. She wrinkled her nose.
"What's that smell? Or do I want to know?"

"That pleasant odor would be mud drying on my body, and making a nice red clay-ish
substance," Gary replied, his voice laced with anger.

"Mud, huh?"

"Yes, mud."

Seeing the smile that Marissa tried (and failed) to conceal, Gary frowned.

"I don't see what's so funny about all this." Gary crossed his arms and shot Marissa a
withering glare, though she couldn't see it anyway.

"You're right, it's not," Marissa agreed, even though it was obvious that she was quite
amused by his predicament. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

"What happened? Well, where should I start? Should I start with the little girl who kicked
me in the shin because she thought I was trying to steal her candy, when really I was
trying to prevent her from choking on it? Or maybe I'll begin with the 300-pound Bears
fan who was going to choke on a pork rind while playing mud football?"

"I'll take the football story," Marissa answered, a small grin playing on her face.

"Well, where should I start? When I tried to help him, we both fell into a gigantic mud
puddle." Gary shuddered. "I was on the bottom." He paused. "I managed to get the pork
rind out of him."

"Well, there's something."

Gary clasped his hands together and put on a big fake smile. "Then Bubbah, Butch, Ziggy,
and the rest of the boys gave me some thank-you noogies, so it was all worth it." His
voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Marissa bit back a laugh. She picked up a small package from the desk and held it out to
Gary.

"This came for you today. Probably another birthday gift." She shrugged, and Gary took it
from her hands.

Gary examined it. "Yep. From Oregon."

"Patrick," they said in unison.

"Speaking of your birthday.." Marissa began, but Gary cut her off.

"Please, Marissa, let's not talk about my birthday right now. I don't need a repeat of last
year. I hate to break it to Chuck but his present of Kiki the inflatable party girl, didn't
make great company." Gary sighed and held up a hand. "So please, for just one more day
can we pretend like I'm still thirty-four."

"Sure thing, partner. But I made you a cake. Maybe we can eat it up in the loft later."

Gary smiled. "That would be great Marissa. Thank you." He gave Marissa small kiss on
the cheek, and headed up to the loft, the present from Patrick in one hand, a muddy paper
in the other. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gary stepped out of the shower, cleansed and refreshed, muddy no more. He put on his
robe, and settled on the couch, a cup of coffee in one hand. His grumpy mood was slowly
starting to fade.

"Another year come and gone," Gary mumbled to himself. "And what to you have to show
for it." He gave a dry chuckle. "Not much."

Gary's eyes wandered to the end of the couch, where the gift from Patrick lay. He
shrugged, and grabbed it. After twirling it around a bit, he tore it open. A letter and a
small tape fell out.

Gary picked up the letter and scanned it, reading it out loud softly.

Dear Mr. H.,   I remembered your birthday was coming up, and I needed to get your
something. Can you belive it took me two weeks to find the perfect thing? It was hard
though, because you seem to be the kind of guy that doesn't really value things that you
can buy with money. Do you know what I mean?

 I was going to get you a Silly Putty egg, as it would be fun to use with your newspaper.
But then I figured- hey, what kind of American has a newspaper but no Silly Putty. I mean
what's a newspaper without Silly Putty, right? See, I was using my head, like you were
always telling me I should do. Anyway, then this idea popped into my head one night
when I was listeningto the radio. A tape of some really cool songs.

 Oh, hey, I might be visiting Chicago sometime soon. We so totally have to hit the rave
scene again, Mr. H. We didn't have too much time before, what with my van blowing up
and everything, but my buddy Nicky the Nose can hook us up with an even hotter party.
And I've got the perfect costume ideas for us. Luke Skywalker and Han Solo! Think about
it. I mean, I'll need a light saber, and you'll need one of those funky vest thingies, but we'd
be perfect for the part. Hey! Then Ms. Clark can be the Princess, and Spike could be
Chewy. That'd be awesome.

 Anyway, I've gotta go now. One of my students just stuck a marble in their ear.

 Remember, if you ever need help with that 6th sense thing of yours, my door is always
open.

                          Your best buddy,                              Patrick Quinn

P.S. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!

Geez, just a letter from that kid was enough to give Gary a headache. Gary popped the
tape into his tape player, and hit the 'play,' button. Might as well listen to it.

A smooth voice came out. He sounded good. Very different from Gary's usual soft rock
music, but it sounded okay.

'Life is unbelievable
Life is good
Life is good
Life is great
Life is unbelievable
Life is hard
Life is cruel
Life is beautiful

Life is unbelievable
Oh yeah, oh yeah
Life is unbelievable'
 

"Not my life," Gary mused, frowning.

'Somewhere and life and
Yet, on my way to anywhere
A woman named Beatrice serves me coffee
And she smiles as if she cares
It reminds me of this painting
That I think I've often seen
The king's behind the counter
Serving coffee to James Dean.'

 Gary smiled. Down the street there was a coffee shop. Before Gary owned McGinty's he
and Chuck would go down there for some coffee and a decent breakfast. One of the
waitresses there was named Beatrice. She used to serve the guys their meals. She didn't
work there anymore, Gary remembered. She went back to college. Was getting her
degree. Her life was going good, he'd bet.

 'Life is good
Life is great
Life is unbelievable
Life is hard
Life is cruel
Life is so beautiful
Ooh yeah, ooh yeah

On my way to garden city
On my way to anywhere
A guy named Patrick gives me directions
And he smiles as if he cares
It reminds me of this movie
Pretty much this situation
Except I'd be Steve McQueen.'

 Gary remembered when Patrick had directed traffic as a favor to Gary. Without hesitating
for a minute, Patrick ran out to help his boss. Gary's grin widened. No matter how irriating
Patrick could be, he was a good kid.

 'So what would you do
If you wake tomorrow
No more sorrows
Your dreams came true
So knock on wood
And cross your fingers
And count your blessings
It might be you.

So what would you do
If you wake tomorrow
And all our gray skies have now turned blue?
How many days
Do you think you're given
So get on livin'
It might be you

Life is good
Life is great
Life is unbelievable
Life is hard
Life is cruel
Life is so beautiful
Ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah.'

 Gary though about it. How many days did he have the chance to relax? Hardly any, but
enough. He just never took advantage of it. Well, he decided, all that would change soon.
Maybe he could get Cubs tickets, take Marissa out for a night on the town. Have some
fun.

 'Life is unbelievable
Oh yeah, oh yeah
Life is unbelievable

If he so loves the sun
Go, go on
Yo I'll be slipping
A rippin' party till the break of dawn
So if you love rich nice
Or you hate rich nice
Take my advice and just live your life
Cause it's yours.'

 "Live your life," Gary mumbled, shaking his head. Maybe it was time he did live his life.

 'Hey if you're messing
With the sacred world
It's a never-ending test
I don't know where to begin
And I feel I'm at the end
I don't wanna live life
Doing petty nonsense
It's hard to sleep at night
With a guilty conscience.'

 Gary knew what a guilty conscience felt like. Sometimes he still had trouble sleeping,
because when he did, he dreamed of Jeremiah. In every dream it was the same. There
Jeremiah stood, right in front of Gary's face, and a calm, bitter voice he'd say, 'You killed
me, Gary Hobson. You killed me and you don't deserve to live.'

The dream never went any furthur because that was about the time that Gary woke up in a
cold sweat.

 'You know it's really a mess
Now I feel blessed
When 20 minutes from now
It'll all turn to stress I'm 35 years
All those Brownsville cheers
I'm stuck with all the blood
The sweat and the tears.'

 But Gary was dealing with the emotional pain, every single day. Not a day went by that
he didn't think of Jeremiah Mason, but lately it had been a little easier to come to terms
with the past. He guessed that one day, it wouldn't seem so bad.....

 'Amother sheds tears at the
Same time a baby is born
On the other side of town
A life is lost
A young thug was knocked off
The heat was tossed
Dang Life is real, it's so trife
But don't stop now, live your life'

 Gary remembered JoJo. That was  a painful memory also. He was a good kid, just a little
misguided. 'They're all good kids,' Sister Mary had told him. She was right. They just
needed some direction. Maybe Gary needed some direction too.

'I know it's hell for the rough
But don't talk down on your man
Unless your helping him out
So live your life
It's yours

So what would you do
If you wake tomorrow
No more sorrows
Your dreams came true
So knock on wood
And cross your fingers
And count your blessings
It might be you

So what would you do
If you wake tomorrow
Ally your gray skies
Have now turned blue
How many days do you think you're given
So get on living
It's up to you

Life is good
Life is great
Life is unbelievable
Life is hard
Life is cruel
Life is so beautiful.'

 Gary hit 'stop.' His grin was very large now, as he was pleasantly surprised by the song.
Patrick really was giving him the perfect present.

Inspired, Gary ran downstairs to the office, not even bothering to change out of his robe
and into regular clothes. He informed Marissa that it was time to party, and the two
friends shared a birthday cake.

"Make a wish," Marissa suggested.

Gary looked at the dancing flames. He thought of everything he had, and everything he
wanted. He thought for a minute, smiled, and closed his eyes.

'I wish that next year, more people that I care about are here to watch me blow out the
candles.' In one quick puff the raging inferno died.

Gary took Marissa's hand and gave it a friendly squeeze.

"Marissa, tell me all about your life," Gary requested, cutting the cake. He just realized
that as long as he'd known Marissa, he hardly knew anything about her past. Granted, she
didn't know too much about his childhood either, except what his parents had told her, but
there was time for that too.

As Marissa spoke, Gary's birthday became a little brighter.

'Life is good,' Gary told himself.

And that was just one song on the tape. Who knows what the rest of them might hold.

   The End

Email the author: coventrys@yahoo.com
 

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