Jareth's Return

Dori(1)

"There's such a sad love, deep in your eyes." Dori used the battered remote to pause the movie on Jareth's face, with those sad, sad eyes.

"I'm here for you Jareth! Sarah doesn't love you like I would. Why can't I just trade places with her? Ugh!" She groaned as she always did over this movie, vocalizing her insane jealousy. Dori dreams of a love, an all-powerful, all-consuming love that would turn reality-harsh, unforgiving reality-into a wonderland of adventures and magic.

In the midst of her raving, Dori glanced at the clock on the wall. Shit, she thought to herself; she was late to practice. Again. Dad's gonna be so mad. She got up and rushed around her sparse bedroom, getting changed. Shirt, shorts, shoes, glove. Hat, I forgot my hat. Dori grabbed the tattered cap off of her bedpost as she ran out her door. It was lucky they lived close the golf course, about a ten minute walk. She was currently thirty-five minutes late to practice, so another ten shouldn't be the end of the world. Who plays golf at 5:30 anyways? She grumbled to herself.

Walking up to the driving range with her head down, she headed towards her favorite coach, Mr. Mardin. Mardin was in his early 60's, with long hair perpetually blown back and a mustache that grew down around his mouth and onto his chin. "Good of you to show up, Theo." The old man teased, only half serious. She loved this man like a father and had known him since she was young

"I know Mardy, I'm sorry. I just got a little sidetracked and time got away from me." She looked at the rest of the people on the range, mostly retired men, some wives, even a child or two.

"Of course it did. It often does in the Labyrinth." He chuckled and looked at her knowingly. Naturally, he knew. He was the one who had given her the movie for her eighth birthday. "But, I'm not the one you have to apologize to. Today is your day to practice with Daniels, remember?" he pointed towards the clubhouse.

The blood drained from Dori's face as she turned to follow Mardy's finger. How could she have forgotten? Coach Daniels, both, loved and hated when she was late. Hated it because it wasted his precious time and loved it because it gave him an excuse to call her father and get her into trouble. He's hated her since she slapped him during their third practice together when he got too handsy andtried to feel her up.

Daniels was walking from the clubhouse, obviously having seen her arrival, with a small-Dori sees it as sadistic-smile on his face, eyes hard and knowing. "This is the third time you've been late this week. You only have three practices a week. Mr. Mardin and I take time out of our home life to teach you-after hours, mind you-so you would think you'd have the decency to show up on time. It looks like I'm going to have to call your father and tell him about your poor behavior."

"I was sick earlier this week, so things took longer than usual. Today, I was just busy." She cannot have him call her dad. The entire time, Mardy was just looking back and forth between us, like a tennis match. He finally decided to step in.

"Alright, you two, enough. Look, Daniels, Theo is a good kid, cut her a little slack. We can let it slide as long as she promises next week will be different, right Theo?" Dori nodded in confirmation. "See? No need to call her father. Now, get to work, the both of you." The younger coach glared at the older version, and begrudgingly agreed. He walked away, towards the spot where her usual practice bag had been set up for her, along with a bucket of range balls.

"Thanks, Mardy. I know it was you who put everything up. Now go, before Sally gets upset at you for being late for your dinner date. Wish her a happy birthday, for me. I'll bring her a present next time." Dori told him, giving him a side-hug.

"Will do, kiddo. You know she doesn't need a gift from you. All you need to do is come to dinner on Sunday." He said, starting to walk away.

She waved and called back, "Wouldn't miss it." Dori turned towards Daniels relunctantly and made my way over, adjusting my glove.