I’d been wanting to give adapting movies another go, but couldn’t quite find the right one. I suppose you could consider this an adaptation of several movies. Inspired by the play "Cyrano de Bergerac" by Edmond Rostand (I wish I could read the oriignal French!), and the movies of the same name as well as "Roxanne." Jonny, for once, uses his brain and his wits to do some pretty amazing things.

Disclaimer: Characters and associated details are property of Hanna-Barbera and are used for non-profit entertainment purposes only.

Archiving permission granted.

THE LITERARY ADVENTURES OF JONNY QUEST

Synopsis: Jonny learns the power of words.

"THE WORDS HAVE LEARNED THE WAY"

by Eric R. Umali

Lunchtime at Rockport High was not a quiet place. The din was deafening for most adults, just bearable for the teenagers. Jonny Quest was making his way through the line. Right behind him stood half of the football team, headed by the very loud and very obnoxious Jason Trichter. Jonny took the last slice of pepperoni pizza from the counter.

"Hey, Quest, that's _my_ slice!"

"If you wanted the good pizza, Trichter, you should've gotten here earlier," he said without turning.

Trichter shoved him and knocked his tray to the floor. "Aww, I guess neither of us is gonna get that slice." He and his friends laughed their boorish laughs.

Jonny's right hand curled. He looked out into the cafeteria, where every eye was on the confrontation. He spotted Jessie Bannon at a nearby table. He watched her eyes go to his tensed fist. Subtly, she shook her head "no." He let his hand relax.

Trichter noticed. "Come on, Jon-ny-let's see what you've got... _shorty_." Apparently, they found it the most hilarious thing they'd ever heard. Jonny looked up at the jock who towered eight inches above him with a calm face.

"'Shorty'? 'Shorty'? Three years of freshman English and the best insult you can think of is 'shorty'?"

The large boy was quite confused. This was not what was expected. "And you think you could come up with a better one?" It was a knee-jerk response, Jonny decided, accent on the 'jerk'.

"I could come up with ten. In fact, I'll prove it. If I don't come up with ten one-betters, you can take a free swing at me." Jonny knew full well this thug hadn't a chance against someone trained by Race Bannon in hand-to-hand fighting, but he wanted to take the high road on this. Besides, Jessie was watching, and he knew how much she respected intelligence. There was nothing in the world he wouldn't do to earn Jessie's respect.

"Go ahead."

Jonny swung under the line barrier and began pacing. "All right, let's see... Botanical: You know sapling, if you try, you can become a big tree. Regal: You may rise now, my subject. Oh, sorry. Ahhh... Athletic: Are you even tall enough to play tee ball? Scientific: Does gravity _really_ get stronger the closer you are to Earth? Practical: I bet you're good for finding contacts and dropped change."

Everyone within earshot was laughing. Each new line got louder laughter, and drew a bigger audience. Scratching his chin thoughtfully, Jonny continued.

"Athletic, the sequel: How about kick ball? Apologetic: I'm sorry, you can only ride the teacups if you're over this line. Defensive: What're you gonna do, bite me in the kneecaps?"

By now, Jonny had the entire cafeteria in thrall. The faculty monitors listened in rapt attention. They had been waiting for Trichter to get his comeuppance.

Jonny walked up and down the center of the room, then lingered near Jessie's table. Her girlfriends giggled when he approached. "How many is that?"

"Eight!" the crowd called.

"Ummm... Athletic once more: Fine, you can be my golf tee."

"Nine!"

"One more, Jonny!" Their pep rallies had less cheering. "You got 'im, Jonny!"

Jonny rubbed his chin. Trichter had been standing there, fuming and turning redder and redder, knowing that striking Jonny would mean suspension for sure. He did not enjoy being made a fool of.

"One more... Ah, yes." He walked up to Trichter and looked him dead in the eyes. "Simple: Two words-- booster chair."

Jonny nonchalantly walked away. Trichter exploded, launching himself at Jonny, who sidestepped gracefully, grasped the larger boy's wrist, and just barely pivoted his body. Stumbling, Trichter ended up in a most uncomfortable twisted posture before being released to the other side of the clear area. He charged again, like a bull, bellowing, straight at Jonny's back. At the last second, Jonny let go a lightning-fast backfist, stopping the jock cold. Not turning, he crouched near Jessie.

"Has he fallen yet?" he asked. Trichter slumped to the ground behind him. "Never mind," he said, and sat happily beside Jessie. The entire cafeteria, teachers especially, launched into a ninety second standing ovation. Jonny modestly waved, then stole some fries off Jessie's tray.

Watching the entire exchange very closely was Robert Taylor, the new kid in Rockport. After it, he resumed staring furtively at Jessie.

**********

For the rest of that day, not five minute could go by that someone wouldn't congratulate Jonny on showing up Jason Trichter. Come three o'clock, nearly half the school had shaken Jonny's hand, and the entire place knew. Even when he was called to the principal's office for it, his punishment had been surprisingly light. Jonny had to stay an hour after school for the next two weeks doing odd jobs in the office.

A few days later, Robert Taylor was waiting for him when he left the building at 4:30.

"Um, Jonny Quest?" the young man asked unsurely.

"That's me," Jonny replied. "You're... Robert, right? New in town?"

"Yeah."

Jonny looked him over. Average height, good build. He figured he was what girls would call "pretty cute," and it seemed he'd dated plenty of them since moving to Rockport a month ago. But he seemed very nervous about something.

"Can I help you?" Jonny asked.

"You're... friends with Jessie Bannon, aren't you?"

"Yeah, we're friends." Jonny's usual casual smirk faded a bit. *And just friends, unfortunately,* he thought. "Why?"

"Well, I was wondering-- that is, what do you think-- what I mean is-- what kind of guy does she like?"

Jonny swallowed. "You interested in Jessie?"

"Kinda."

"Well, I'll be honest. She's got pretty high standards. She likes sports-- playing _and_ watching, sports," he saw Robert start to smile. "Reading, writing, computers, science... just yesterday, she was learning part of 'Romeo and Juliet' just for fun."

Robert's heart sank. "Thanks," he replied, said good-bye, and left.

The next day, Robert corralled him at lunch.

"What's up?" Jonny asked as they sat down.

"I... I want you to help me get Jessie."

Jonny clenched his jaw and tried to keep from decking him. "Get Jessie to what?" he said through gritted teeth. Robert was oblivious.

"Go out with me."

"So why don't you ask her? You haven't had a problem before."

"She's smart! She's really smart, and she wants a smart guy! You can tell how much trouble I have talking to-- to smart people like you."

"What is it you want me to do?"

"I-- I saw how you handled Trichter that day. You're... good with words... you could help me... know what to say."

*Well, he certainly _does_ need help. But geez, why me?*

"Will you do it?"

"I'll get back to you," he said sharply and took off.

**********

After dinner that night, Jonny was up in his room doing homework. There was a sound at his window. Getting up, he looked outside. On the ground two stories below, was Robert Taylor.

Jonny opened the window. "Robert, what are you doing?" he said, half whispering, half yelling.

"I'm gonna do it just like-- like Romeo did. Talk to her from here. Now are you gonna help me?"

*Why should I help someone ask out the girl I'm crazy about? But this guy doesn't deserve to make a fool of himself. Besides, Jessie's never been interested in me. Why am I doing this?*

Jonny headed outside. He crouched in a shadowed spot as Robert stood in the moonlight under Jessie's bedroom window. "Just say what I tell you to," Jonny whispered.

"What?" Robert demanded.

"Look, there's this play, where the same thing happens. I hide here, and you say what I tell you to. Now do you want my help, or not?" Robert nodded. Jonny made a show of racking his brain for the details, but it was just for show. His copy of Edmond Rostand's "Cyrano de Bergerac" was well-worn. The scene below Roxane's window was etched into his memory.

Robert nodded, and tossed a pebble at the window. After a few seconds, the window slid open and Jessie stuck her head outside. "Who's there?"

"It's Robert Taylor!"

"Robert, what are you doing?"

"I-- I wanted to talk to you."

"So why couldn't you do it at school?"

Robert turned to Jonny. Jonny whispered to him.

"I thought... this would be... more... romantic."

Jessie smiled slightly. "Romantic? I can't argue that. What do you want?"

"I want to go out with you."

"Is that so?"

"I-- really want to go out with you."

"You can do better than that."

Jonny continued to feed him his lines. "Uh... I wanted to know... if you'd... make me... the happiest guy in the world."

"How?"

"A moment... together... but it is... too late."

"Too late?"

"I am... already... so happy... just knowing... you know I exist."

"Well," she said almost sheepishly, "I've been wanting to talk to you. But what's wrong? You speak so... haltingly."

Robert cursed under his breath, grabbed Jonny and swapped places with him. "This is too hard-- you do it," he said.

"Robert? What's wrong? Why do your words hesitate?"

Jonny swallowed and did his best impression of the young man.

"They go slowly, through the darkness, towards the light... towards you."

"Really." She paused. "But my words find you quickly."

"They find me ready for them. And they fall to me, while my words must rise-- slowly."

"But not as slowly as before, now."

"The words have learned the way, and you have welcomed them."

"I'll come down."

"No!"

"That was some 'no.' Why so loud?"

"Give me this one chance to speak to you, unseen."

"But why unseen?"

"Because... now I can say what I feel, without fear."

"Are you of me?"

"Oh, no. Not afraid of you-- of... of myself. But now is different..."

"Even your voice seems different."

"I do have a new voice-- my own!" With every word, Jonny became more and more overwhelmed. "Where was I? I forget. It's all like a dream, a sweet, strange, dream." He closed his eyes. *Now,* he thought, *now I understand what Cyrano was saying.*

"How, 'strange'?"

"Strange to be myself with you, with no fear of laughter?"

"Laughter? Why?"

"Because... who am I? Who is anyone that he would dare ask for you? I would hide behind phrases, behind poetry."

"I like poetry."

"With you as muse, I could write volumes of rhymes, and I will, but tonight... Tonight, there will be no game of words, no fencing with life."

"And what are they? What are the words you want to use?"

*Yes, what words? Cyrano's, or mine? Is there a difference?*

"All those... all those that fill my heart. The way... my heart... sings... when I hear your name. It knows so many things. All these tiny, forgotten things I know that mean you. Do you remember, just a few weeks ago, for just a little while, you wore your hair up, that one time. I remember it. It is burned into my memory as the image of the sun is burned into one's eyes. My eyes are blinded by your burning hair!"

"This," she said softly, "this is... this sounds like... love."

Jonny's eyes snapped open. "Yes! Yes, this is Love, this beautiful wind, blowing over me-- that dark fire that envelops me, that music that fills my ears, like the sound of your laughter."

He was breathless, dizzy. "I can barely believe this," he went on. "Can you feel my soul, there in the darkness? How is it I dare say these things? But I do. And you-- you hear them! In my most sweet unreasonable dreams I have not hoped for this! I can die now, having lived, for just this moment, seeing you-- moved, trembling. I can feel you tremble through the night air."

"I _am_ trembling... and crying... I didn't think anyone could make me feel like this... and I think... I think I love you..." Jonny was stunned. He paused a moment not knowing what to say next, then, "One... one thing more..."

"Yes?"

"A kiss!" Robert called, from the shadows.

"Just one?" Jessie asked, smiling.

Jonny turned to the shadows, murder in his eyes. "You...."

"I'll come down," Jessie said, and shut the window.

Jonny seethed as Robert emerged. "Oh, my God. I don't know how to thank you, I-- "

"You just take care of her, or I'll have your head." Jonny turned towards the seacliffs and began walking away.

An outside light came on, to reveal Jessie standing near the door. Robert started walking to her, slowly, grinning.

Jessie was smiling. "Come here," she called. "Come get your kiss... Jonny."

The two young men froze in their tracks. Jonny stepped into the light. "You knew?"

"Of course I knew. I know your voice like I know my own. And now I realize I've known your heart, as well." She turned to the other teen. "Robert, I'm flattered. This is all very sweet, but... my heart belongs to someone else. It always has."

Robert took Jonny's hand. "I never stood a chance, I guess. Thanks, anyway." He walked away.

Jonny turned to Jessie, confusion fighting with elation for control. "You knew."

"Jonny, you've been my best friend for years. Besides, I've seen your copy of 'Cyrano.' Only you would do this. I've heard about Robert, and words like those would not come from him."

"I... I used Cyrano's words..."

"But they came from _your_ heart, I know. They came from mine, too."

"I can't believe it."

"Believe it," she replied, and held both his hands in hers, pulling him closer. "Tell me, Jonny-- "

He answered before she could finish. "Would I have said all those words even if I'd never read Rostand? Not as well, but... Yes."

"Good," she said, and pulled Jonny into a gentle embrace. She felt Jonny trace a finger along her cheek, then curl under her chin, tilting it up. They gazed into each other's eyes, losing themselves.

"I love you," he said. Before she could respond in kind, he brought his lips to hers.

THE END.