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The magic of Rainbowland continues...
This ninth installment of the Rainbowland fanfic fantasy series ventures far into the future, where one Pookie McDonald, Kat and her mythical veterinarian husband Chris' youngest daughter all grown up, makes a strange and amazing discovery.
Presenting "Rainbowland IX – Mamma Mia", another amazing piece of fanfic by our Groucho!
Rainbowland IX - Mamma Mia
A fantasy that takes place somewhere over the rainbow, in one of many possible realities involving Katharine McPhee, her Family, Friends and Fans
When I first began to speculate about having children, I suppose you could say I was a little young, but for some reason, I always knew I wanted that more than anything. Sure, I was singing into a hairbrush and practicing my audience patter when I was four, but that was just part of my plan. Actually I don’t know which came first. Loving to perform and wanting to be somebody’s mom were always part of me, as far back as I could remember, just like I’d always had brown eyes and been named Katharine.
At first, I’d thought of them as MY children, little extensions of me. Then, as I grew up a bit, I started seeing them as part of a relationship with some wonderful, mythical, mystical, ideal husband figure, so they transformed into extensions of him. And when my feelings crystallized and fixated on someone, I started thinking in terms of little blonde, blue-eyed miniature versions of Chris McDonald. After a time, I realized that was a pipe dream, and although it never entirely went away, I worked on it, and tried to see the babies as more like whatever boy I was currently involved with. That wasn’t quite as much fun, but it was my concession to reality.
Then my life chased itself around a few more laps and I actually wound up being Mrs. McDonald, and the little blue-eyed blondling became a reality, on the second try. Although I could see both of us in both of the girls, the truth was, they were two little individuals, entirely themselves—part of us, their ancestors, their environment, and anything else The Great Whatever had decided to mix into them to make them unique.
We were sitting on the floor in their playroom discussing what the two of them had done with their grandmas that day in an attempt to calm everyone down before retiring for the night. Kaycee, as usual, was babbling away, monopolizing the conversation, which didn’t matter because I enjoyed listening to my bright and articulate little daughter doing her nonstop routine. I’d had nothing like her confidence as a child, and it had only gotten worse with time, as I’d constantly compared myself to Adriana and wished for her agile brain and glib tongue. Watching the two of them was almost like having a window into the past, although the parallels weren’t exact by any means. The odd thing was how much Kaycee resembled me physically, and how much she reminded me of Adriana in her actions and general demeanor. Pookie was sometimes a total mystery to me, although at times I saw myself in her, and at other times I saw her father, many of whose peculiarities she had inherited along with his coloring.
Chris, who was currently struggling with an invitation to speak at a Vocation Day gathering at Notre Dame High School as a representative of SoCal Animal Care Centers, was in awe of my ability to get up in front of a crowd and perform. His desire to help inspire young people get involved with animal rescue or care was nearly overshadowed by his panic at the thought of speaking before a group of people. I was just starting to conquer my own fear that I’d bequeathed to Pookie some kind of irreparable genetic quirk that kept her from talking. Now I was wondering if that was simply one more way in which she resembled her father, who was otherwise perfect. I’m joking, of course, but that had certainly been one large factor in his favor when I’d been considering husbands. Pookie’s older half brother, Ajay--bright, funny, athletic, musical, mature for his age --was a walking testimonial to Chris’ ability to produce superior children.
Then an idea struck me. "Let’s look at our family album," I said. That usually fascinated Kaycee no end, and Pookie was starting to take an interest as well.
We sat back down on the floor and I impressed on everyone that there would be no grabbing and that pointing meant pointing AT pictures, not touching them. Chris had everything stored somewhere or other on the Internet and neatly separated onto various CDs, but I still enjoyed actually holding a book on my lap and looking at it over the heads of my two little ones. Coming to terms with books—any kind of books—was one of my lifelong projects, and I was learning to enjoy the simple feel of a sturdy binding in my hands. Somehow it all fit together in my mind.
Pookie pointed at a picture and then at herself. Then she frowned and said "Pookie?"
"No, Dummy, that’s not you, that’s Daddy."
"Pookie," she insisted. Then she pointed at the identically posed picture next to it. "Mo’ Pookie."
"No, that’s Ajay. THIS one’s you." Kaycee pointed at the third picture in the group.
"Pookie, Pookie, Pookie," my second child insisted, stabbing the air with one small finger.
"Boy, it’s hard to get stuff into her head," Kaycee sighed.
"She’s just a little girl," I said. "She’ll get bigger, and she’ll get better. You have to have—" I changed my mind and sang the words "Patience, Little Sister" to her.
"I’m Big Sister," Kaycee said proudly. "She may get bigger, but I’ll always be older than she is."
"Well, that’s right," I said, ruffling Kaycee’s dark hair.
"You know what Gramma P said?" Kaycee asked. "Somebody in a restaurant asked her where her granddaughter was, so she told them she had my little sister. And the lady said she didn’t look like it, and Gramma said that’s because she looks like her daddy. How come she gets to look like Daddy and I don’t? "
""Well excuse me," I said, hoping it sounded like a joke. "It’s just the luck of the draw." I was sure she’d understand that analogy, little demon card player that she was. "Besides, variety’s nice. And if that’s not enough for you, you’ll just have to ask Daddy." That would teach him. He was always doing things like that to me.
"I did. He said I should consider myself lucky because I look like the prettiest girl in the world and there’s nothing wrong with that."
All right, Christopher, I take it all back. "Okay, you two. Time for bed," I said. For some reason they decided they wanted to sleep together, and I let them. Anything to keep the peace. Plus I loved seeing them lying there together, looking like the beautiful little angels they so often weren’t in their waking hours. Then I went downstairs to check on the progress Chris was making trying to write his Vocation Day speech.
The wastebasket was filling up with rejected printouts and the computer screen in front of him was already turning black with words the mouse had selected to be consigned to limbo as unworthy. "Not going so well,