#saurrrrr | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

more-sonorous · 4 months ago

Text

falling down, down, deeper still

another new au instead updating my fic I KNOWWWW you're disappointed I KNOWWW but i promise the new chap is coming out this weekend i'm just enjoying my mardi gras rn

(happy fat tuesday to all who celebrate hells yeah)

in the mean time, have another au.... and yes jack kelly is a farm boy in this au and yes it will be javid eventually this is me writing it... but rn have some David Jacobs character study

.....

At some point, skyscrapers faded into the distance and concrete walls became swathes of neverending foliage. The shitty family car descended down, down, down past the pine curtain, into the sticky-hot arms of the American South. David Jacobs could not have been any less thrilled.

The beat-up minivan rumbled painfully beneath him, creaking and moaning its ancient age (his parents bought the beast sometime in the 1970s) and near refusal to continue their cross-country trek, lugging a U-Haul all the way from New York City to Nowhere, Georgia. David’s headphones sat heavy on his head as his Walkman crooned The Smiths, and he was sure he’d never felt so miserable. They were over 800 miles away from everything he’d come to know and love– everything from their decent apartment to their synagogue and the private school the children had been attending since they were little. Leaving everything behind because of a stupid accident and a stupid lawsuit with an ever stupider settlement.

David was brooding, for lack of any better explanation. As they passed more and more signs ushering them further into the Southern States, he sunk further into misery. Misery being the frayed leather seat in their struggling vehicle– but misery nevertheless.

His twin sister Sarah nudged him once, twice, and he begrudgingly removed his headphones to hear his father’s voice cutting over the cheery synth-pop playing on the crackling car radio.

“Look, everyone– welcome to Georgia!” Mayer grinned as the minivan rolled past the blue welcome sign with its corny peach decal. His father was smiling behind his graying mustache, acting like he wasn’t committing his family to a miserable life in a southern hellhole. “This’ll be a new adventure for all of us.”

David kindly resisted the urge to scoff and instead chose to listen to his excitable younger brother Les pipe up from the third row of seats– one he’d claimed all for himself. “Aba, how far away is Atlanta from where we are now?”

“About an hour and a half, Leshem.” Esther, their mother, replied from the front seat, where she was navigating. A massive East Coast map was sprawled out in her lap, full of highlights and notations indicating their route.

“But remember– we aren’t living in Atlanta. I’ll be working at a factory just outside of the city, but our new house and your new school are about forty-five minutes out of city limits.”

Sarah nodded robotically– they’d heard this spiel at least ten times. Esther and Mayer told the twins that spending their last few years of highschool in ‘the countryside’ would be a welcome change. What the parents would never say aloud was that Atlanta itself was too expensive, but David and Sarah knew as much without needed to be told. Their parents used the chump change they won from the lawsuit to buy up some cheap real estate in a tiny town nearby, ironically named: “We’re living in Peach Creek, Les-Kah. Not Atlanta.”

“Surely a town named ‘Peach Creek’ won’t be crawling with antisemites…” David drawled, staring fixedly at a sudden outcrop of buildings. They were passing through yet another nameless town, obviously growing and expanding judging by the mid-construction McDonalds.

“David… let’s remember to have a positive outlook.”

If he heard that sentence one more time, he was sure his ears would explode. “Sorry, Ima.”

“I know this is a big change, boychik, but–”

“It’ll be nice to leave the city for a bit. I know.” He grumbled, furiously unzipping the well-loved backpack on the floorboard between his legs. His Doc Martens stared up at him, silently begging to be polished again. He added that to his mental to-do list as he tugged a book out of the backpack, cracking it open in his lap. “You’ve said. Many times.”

In fact, they’d used that excuse every time he brought up any complaints about the move. Most notably the fact that their new school didn’t offer any sort of music program– so he’d go from playing piano for one of the best high school orchestra’s in New York City to living in a town where there wasn’t even anybody to offer lessons. Also, there were no advanced courses to take at Peach Creek High. David’s dreams to get into Juilliard were suddenly jeopardized, but his parents refused to compromise with him. He’d begged and pleaded– tried every angle like the Debate Team captain he was– let me get a job, let me live with old Aunt Chavah, let me do anything to stay here. Nothing swayed them.

“Davey, we’re gonna have a whole backyard all to ourselves.” Les grinned as he poked his head into the middle row of seats, freckled cheeks dimpling. “Like the rich people do.”

For Les, nine-year-old baseball player and sports enthusiast, that was probably an exciting prospect. For David, piano-player and certified nerd, he could not care less. “We had a backyard in Poland.”

“Well, I wasn’t even born yet when we lived in Poland, so I’ve never had a backyard.” Les answered rather petulantly, still wearing a bright grin.

“That’s true,” David acquiesced, sighing deeply as he ruffled his brother’s head of messy curls. The kid was always sunburnt and ruffled– he spent way too much time playing with the other neighborhood kids at the park on their block. Les and Sarah were both like that, though. They could make friends with anybody and they seemed to thrive when surrounded by people. David was the outlier. Always had been. “Maybe you can invite your new friends over to play at our place.”

Les’s cute face brightened and David couldn’t stop his own smile. “Yeah! I’m gonna mow so many people’s lawns and I’m gonna buy myself bases and spraypaint and make my own diamond in the backyard, and…”

As Les chattered on, David slipped his headphones back over his ears and glanced back down at The Picture of Dorian Gray. He’d read it a million times over and read it once again on that torturously long car ride, too-long legs bent uncomfortably behind his mother’s seat and unhappy face set in a semi-glower. David was a New York City boy at heart. He didn’t know how he’d ever learn to enjoy a place like Peach Creek.

They passed through Atlanta and the sight of the city only made David long for home. Atlanta was nice, yeah, but it was nothing like staring up at the behemoth buildings in NYC. The spires seemed to touch the stars and pierce the clouds from below, and the skyline was an awe-inspiring sight like nothing else. It was under a lot of construction, too. Massive multi-lane roadways were being built, and Atlanta screamed of suburban sprawl that 1987 New York wasn’t really experiencing. They were widening roads and building interstate-highways that stretched endlessly into the distance, and David liked Georgia less with every second.

Then the city died and they started rolling through even more stretches of endless farmland. Tons of orchards– be it pecans or apples or the famous peaches– accompanied fields of blueberry bushes and so much cotton. It was September, so the stuff was in full bloom, and fields of it went on as far as the eye could see. Agriculture was the heart of this land, and oftentimes they passed massive tractors rolling down the road instead of fellow cars. David hated it.

A brown sign, probably made sometime in the 50s, read ‘Welcome to Peach Creek!’ in a falsely cheerful font. Apparently the town had been established in the 1840s. The people living there probably still thought like they were living in the 17th century.

And calling it a town was generous. They drove down Main Street, which might as well have been the only street, because it was crowded with just about everything the town could boast as its own. Peach Creek General, Peach Creek Grocer’s, a little 24-hour mom and pop diner– not a record store or kitschy bookshop in sight. Mayer mentioned there being a library down one road and the town’s three schools down another. It was enough to keep people alive, but David didn’t know how they considered this to be living.

David was utterly and entirely disheartened by the time they finally reached their house. Everything was so far apart. He’d have to walk three miles to get to main street and it was a whopping eight miles to get to school. Which meant he’d have to take the bus. Back home, their apartment was seven blocks away from school, and walking a mile in any direction would lead you to a plethora of gas stations and hole-in-the-wall restaurants to find food.

At least the house seemed nice.

“Woah!” Les cried, tumbling into the space between Sarah and David’s seats. “It’s huge!”

David privately agreed that it was much larger than he assumed– with a big front lawn that rolled right into an even bigger backyard. Their nearest neighbors were at least an acre away in either direction, and the property was speckled with trees. It seemed like Georgia was right on the precipice of autumn, and he figured that any day now, colors would begin bursting from the trees. The oranges and reds would look nice with their house. It was made of white paneled wood with a blue shingled roof, and they even had a porch with stairs that Les was already running up.

It was about the size of their house in Poland– though David didn’t remember it very well, he knew it was sizable enough with a room for each child, the parents, and David’s paternal grandparents– and much, much larger than their two-bedroom apartment in NYC.

“Well, yeladīm?” Mayer asked hopefully, wrapping one arm around each twin. “What do we think?”

“It’s pretty, Aba. Very nice.” Sarah replied with an easy grin, tucking one dark curl behind her ear. She had an effortless sort of smile– it crinkled her brown eyes and softened her features. Sarah had always been very pretty– very likeable. She knew when to smile and when to laugh, knew when to bat her lashes or shut her mouth. The better twin by leaps and bounds, inarguably. She looked relaxed and happy in this new environment, even when David was feeling anxious enough to burst. He hated change. Sarah took it in stride, evident in the way she was staring lovingly at their new house.

David nodded in silent agreement with her assessment, eyes roaming over the windows and the chipping paint on the columns holding up the porch. It needed a little bit of love, but it was a nice house. At least they wouldn’t be miserable and cramped. “I like it.”

His father smiled a warm, pleased smile, and pressed a kiss to the curly brown hair of each twin. Sarah first, then David, as always. “Good. You two are getting your own rooms, you know…”

Sarah grinned and David smiled to match, suddenly brightening. “Really, Aba?”

“Yes, really. Four bedrooms in this house, one for each of you and one for Ima and I. I figured you’d enjoy such a change– you’ve been sharing spaces for nearly thirteen years, now.”

The twins exchanged a look, matching expressions of sheer excitement coloring their faces. David was already thinking about the posters he’d try to get his hands on. Hopefully he had a nice window to read by, and maybe even enough room for a desk one day– obviously Sarah was having similar hopeful thoughts, because her bright grin was positively bedazzling. Mayer looked beyond pleased with their reactions, and he carefully adjusted his glasses over the strong bridge of his nose.

“Sarah, you’re the first to the left. David, you’re the door after that. Now, why don’t you two grab some boxes and help your mother and I start moving everything in?”

They’d been driving since five in the morning, when they left their hotel before the sunrise and continued their southbound trek. They reached the house at ten in the morning and didn’t finish unloading the U-Haul until half past eight, and by then, David’s arms and legs were aching for respite. Who knew such a tiny NYC apartment could be crammed with so much stuff? Boxes upon boxes, the couch, Mayer’s armchair– the hardest piece to move was the old upright piano David loved so dearly, which took pretty much everyone’s best effort to lift up the front steps. Since Mayer couldn’t help, his arm still wrapped in a sleeve, the other four family members struggled for at least an hour with the heavy instrument. By the end of the night, nobody could even think about unpacking, let alone driving out to meet their neighbors.

Dinner consisted of hastily made sandwiches and whatever road trip snacks they had left in the van, and soon the entire family was splayed out on the porch with food on paper plates in their laps.

David had never experienced weather like this before. The evening was hot and sticky, almost clinging to his skin. The wildlife was loud, replacing the sound of frantic car horns and sirens. Instead he heard crickets, calling birds, and croaking frogs. It was a symphony of its own, filling the air as the sunset soaked the sky in a deep orange. Sweat beaded his brow as he picked at the wonder-bread crust of his sandwich, the taste of mustard not exactly mixing well with his gas station hot fries. God, it was hot, and it was only September. How did people survive like this?

He absent-mindedly watched Les absolutely rip into some beef jerky, scarcely noticing someone sitting on the steps beside him until an elbow gently nudged his ribs. There sat Sarah, her curly hair piled into a messy bun atop her head. “Hey, baby brother.”

“You really do enjoy holding those thirty minutes above my head, don’t you?”

“Always.” She grinned, reaching a freckled hand out to ruffle his curls before gazing out at their new front yard, peaceful in the sunset. “You excited to have your own room, David-Kah?”

He gave an enthusiastic nod as he peeled the top piece of bread off his sandwich, carefully layering chips over the cold lunch meat. “Very excited. I can finally read in peace.”

“You mean you can finally avoid the world in peace, and play your weird emo music at full volume.” Sarah teased, bumping their shoulders and knees together with that easy smile of hers. David couldn’t help but roll his eyes, despite the stupid grin he knew he was wearing.

“My music is art, Sarah, thank you very much.” He scoffed, fully ready to playfully rehash the age-old argument they’d been having since 1982 when a twelve year old David Jacobs discovered The Smiths, and his entire life was changed. “Just say you don’t understand Dag Nasty and go back to your Madonna and Whitney Houston–”

Sarah snickered and stole a hot fry straight out of his bag. “Okay, nerd, I don’t understand Dag Nasty. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with Madonna. She’s bitchin’.”

“Ooh, bitchin’.” His sister gave a great big eye roll before shoving him, and David found himself thanking G-d for giving him a twin. He couldn’t imagine his life without Sarah– she was his closest companion. They knew each other like they knew the freckles on the back of their hands, and even though they’d grown apart in style and attitude over the years, they were still thick as thieves.

He laughed to himself and took small bites of his dinner, listening to the hushed whispers of conversation between his parents as they watched Les run around the yard, searching for rocks amidst the freshly mowed grass. Apparently a neighbor had cut it for them in preparation of their arrival. The sun sank behind the treeline and David watched with slight awe as stars appeared. More stars than he had ever seen in his life– bright and dim, speckling the sky sporadically. Like the freckles on his own back. He was awestruck. Almost too awestruck to hear Sarah whisper–

“I don’t think this is going to be as bad as you assume it’ll be.”

David felt his mood plummet nearly instantly. He folded his empty plate in half with a little sigh and shook his head. “I’m trying to be optimistic, Saz, I really am… it’s just– there isn’t even a synagogue here. And how am I supposed to act like this hasn’t totally ruined my shot at Julliard?”

“Hey– don’t talk like that.” She insisted, immediately grabbing his hand and lacing their fingers together. Though they were twins, Sarah was much tanner from softball practices and time spent window-shopping with friends. “You’re gonna get into Juilliard. You’ve practically already got a spot reserved, you’ve played so many recitals for their faculty members– you’re gonna get in, David. Things will turn out right. And look on the bright side; we only have to spend a year and a half here, remember?”

He allowed his head to drop dejectedly onto her shoulder, feeling frustrated tears sting at his eyes. “That almost makes it worse. Why’d they have to move us right after our junior year? Why couldn’t we just wait?”

“Because Aba’s employers are certified douchebags.”

At the mention of their father, both teens glanced towards their parents. The two seemed to be in their own little world, sitting on the other end of the porch in silence. Esther held her husband’s hand as they gazed absently at Les, whose energy had entirely disappeared. He was laying spread-eagled, staring up at the inky blue night sky. David stared at Mayer’s arm, at the almost imperceptible twitches in his shoulder, and felt red-hot rage bubble up in his chest.

“They just wanted to get rid of him.” David whispered, months of ridiculous court proceedings flooding his mind. “Didn’t want anybody else to find out about what happened. So they moved us down to this backwards-ass state and ruined our lives.”

For once, Sarah didn’t have any optimistic advice. David knew she felt the same bitterness welling up within her. Earlier in the year, their father had been pretty brutally injured at his factory job. The injury messed his arm up and rendered it pretty much useless– but instead of compensating the family, the company fired him. Unable to find work and scrambling for a solution, their parents decided to sue.

Of course, lawyers and attorneys drain money. Their money was drained. By the time the court proceedings finished, the family was knee-deep in debt and too tired to celebrate Mayer’s small victory over the corporation. They’d offered him a new job as a manager, pay raise included, at a plant all the way down in Atlanta. The family also received a small sum of money to help relieve hospital debts from the accident, but it barely made a debt.

When faced with the option of scraping by for work and looking for a new job that would hire a man with only one functional arm, versus moving down south with a guaranteed job in an area with cheaper rent, Mayer chose the latter. Much to David’s dismay.

Some days he found himself wanting to throttle the corporate men that sent them down here. Other times he wanted to scream and cry. At that moment, sitting in the uncomfortably hot evening with little asshole bugs biting at his exposed arms, he just wanted to curl up in bed and never leave again.

The porch groaned beneath them as Esther went to collect her sleeping baby from the grass, gathering him up in her arms. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, the heat turning time into something slow and syrupy. David watched his mother carry Les inside; listened to the screen door swing shut behind his retreating father; felt Sarah squeeze his hand as the night cooled around them.

“We can make the most of this.” She insisted, almost sounding like she was trying to convince herself. David didn’t respond and let her continue her resolute speech. “We’re going to go to school next week– settle into our classes, find some new friends– it’ll be fine. We’ll have a good year and a half here, and then we’ll go back to the city for college and everything will turn out right. This isn’t the end of anything.”

He couldn’t make himself believe her. Not when her voice was warbling unsteadily like that.

And maybe Sarah didn’t believe herself either. After silence settled heavily between them, Sarah squeezed her brother’s hand and climbed to her feet. David listened to her leave, and shut his eyes to focus on the unfamiliar noise of crickets and bullfrogs.

In two days, he’d attend his first day of classes at Peach Creek Senior High. No doubt he’d be surrounded by the children of farmers and country folk, raised on hatred and bred on values that threatened everything David loved. He wasn’t going to let this backwards town change him, though. No, he was going to show these people academia and true strength that didn’t come from hauling hay bales or corralling livestock, and he wasn’t going to back down. If David Jacobs was anything, he was stubborn. Stubborn and bound and determined to continue being himself in a place that simply didn’t want him.

Either way, David had a feeling that Peach Creek was going to be miserable. He was correct (for a while, at least).

#newsies #david jacobs #davey jacobs #new au #small town #1980s #hell yeah #emo davey jacobs #sarah jacobs #les jacobs #jacobs family #jewish jacobs family #jewish davey jacobs #sonorouswrites #the javey in this gonna be saurrrrr good

22 notes · View notes