The Ginabean

Today’s Friday Fiction is all about Dang Gina, AKA The Ginabean. Those of you who read my Hilton eforea giveaway post, will know that I promised to write a story about the winner – so here it is. I’m sure you all know who Gina is, and that she writes over at http://www.theginabean2.blogspot.com/, well now you also know that she won. So here it is. At nearly 2000 words it is a little on the long side I admit, but I refuse to apologise for this as I was determined to put some real effort into hopefully proving that it was, after all, a prize worth winning. I just hope you can spare a little extra of your very valuable time to check it out, if you can then I thank you.


Gina – I hope you like it…




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The Ginabean

“Dang, Gina – Tis you ain’t it? My little Ginabean? What ya’ll doin’ here?”

“What are you talking like that for? Where are from, Texas or something?”

Tom looked puzzled, thought for a minute and then laughed, “Ah sorry mate, we watched Cars 2 earlier and me and the lads have been talking like Mater all afternoon – I forgot to stop. What are you doing here anyway?”

Gina looked at her old friend and sighed. This was not going to be easy at all. She hadn’t seen her friend for years; they had been as thick as thieves at school, best mates that could never be separated. At least that was the case, until puberty saw fit to point out to the young girl that Tom was different. Growing up meant that playing with boys no longer meant wrestling with them for sweets or biking non-handed down blind-fools-hill, simply because her chest hurt and she suddenly had a cycle that didn’t have wheels.

When puberty hit, Gina looked up towards the older boys – as all the girls did, until the boys in her year caught up and started changing too.

Through all of that time they stayed friends though, they might not have hung out as much any more – but they always had a laugh whenever they stopped to chat.

The friendship remained, throughout their time at school but never turned into anything more, well except for that one time maybe, but that didn’t count, she had kissed loads of boys at that party and then threw up her first attempt to drink cider all over the back seat of Sue Jenkins’ mum’s car.

No, that didn’t count at all, they were just friends.

They lost touch soon after Tom headed off to university. Their lives just seemed to grow apart, even though when ever they did get together or write it never really seemed like it. Whenever they were together they were still every bit as close, but whenever they weren’t, their distance apart just seemed to grow wider.

Over the years, the drinks grew less frequent, as did the letters and emails. By the time she was standing here now, they weren’t even friends on Facebook.

Even so, Gina had often thought of Tom, and how easy to talk to he was, how it was always so instantly the same, whenever they did actually get together. Gina had known that if and when they ever did meet again, the conversation would be immediate and simple. Nothing would have changed, no matter how long the gap had been.

Except things had changed, and telling her story was not going to be easy at all.

Gina’s life had spiralled out of control since the last time Tom had called to catch up; the first problem was in identifying when it all began to go wrong.

No, actually that was wrong, Gina knew exactly when it started, “You know what I’m like; always looking out for the next chance to make my million, to find the next big thing?”

“Ha, yes I do – Cocktail was your favourite film wasn’t it?” Tom laughed.

It had indeed been her favourite film, and Gina had always considered herself to be Tom Cruise’s character rather than Elisabeth Shue’s. So when a friend of a friend of a friend’s sister’s babysitter had proposed a lucrative investment in his idea of a website dedicated to grooming dogs, she had jumped in with both feet and leant him everything she had. Gina loved dogs, and she knew just how popular a website like that could be, the rewards could be unlimited, and she had gone to sleep that night dreaming about Ginabean collars, baskets, combs and shampoos. Sadly, her idea of grooming dogs and his had turned out to be very, very different; Gina had only narrowly avoided going to jail. She may have been technically free, but the image of the photo shoot she had accidentally walked in on, held her captive for a long, long time and put her off dogs for life.

She moved on, but she was penniless, and in the end, homeless too. Life had dealt her a cruel blow, and it was one that she would never truly recover from.

“So, what exactly was he doing with the dogs?” asked Tom, but Gina refused to elaborate, in case talking about it brought back the nightmares.

After, she had lost her home; Gina had gone on to live with friends for a while, working her way back into solvency at a local water park. The work was simple enough, she simply had to count how many times people went on the slide and then charge them the appropriate amount at the end. It wasn’t the most exciting job in the world, but she was allowed two goes on the slide herself for free, during quiet times, and 10% discount at the hot dog stall, so she could hardly complain.

This was when John had entered her life. John was gorgeous. He caught her eye immediately when he gave her a cheeky wink before diving down the slide head first, which is the most heinous crime possible at the park after peeing in the pool. His hairy back, beer belly and naff Maralyn Monroe tattoo made it easy for her to single him out at the bottom, so she furiously blew her whistle for reinforcements.

John was evicted from the park for his clear breach of health and safety, but not before Gina had slipped her mobile number unnoticed into his pocket. There had been something about that cheeky wink and wild impetuousness that struck such a chord deep down in her soul. Oh he was trouble alright, but maybe that’s exactly what she needed.

It was three long, heart wrenching days before Gina’s mobile rang and a somewhat confused voice attempted to sound confident, while working out just who the hell it was talking too. By the end of the call the confidence was genuine, as the pair had instantly clicked. Their joint love of music gave them an easy starting point, as did their knowledge of water slide rules and regulations.

Excited by her own spontaneity, Gina suggested they meet at Flaming Ned’s the very next night. Gina felt comfortable at Ned’s, mainly because the bar stools were fixed to the floor and had arms, which made them harder to fall out of.

Three Buds had already done some work before she saw John walk carefully into the bar, desperately trying not to look as if he couldn’t for the life of him remember what she looked like – which he couldn’t. But it didn’t matter, because Gina recognised his bow legged walk immediately, and hollered for him to come over.

“Bowed legs, Gina? Let’s see – naff tat, hairy back, beer belly and bowed legs? You’ve still got the same taste in men then!!”

“Don’t be an ass all your life Tom – I’m trying to get to the good bit”

“Sorry”

The chemistry had been powerful, and within two hours Gina had followed him into his bed and damned nearly ruined him. John carefully crept down into his kitchen and held an ice pack to his groin while quaffing milk, to replace essential fluids and calcium before she could wake up and start attacking him again. As he did so he leaned back and grinned. John had struck gold; even if he wasn’t completely certain if his little fella would ever actually work again.

The affair was fast and passionate, and within a week they had both quit their jobs to go travelling. Well Gina had anyway; John just reclassified himself as ‘unemployed’ rather than ‘actor between roles’ as he had previously spent the last six years calling himself. They jumped into John’s battered old Beetle and set off on a road trip across America. They had talked about it nonstop since that first meeting at Ned’s. They were going to Detroit, Memphis, Nashville, New Orleans and Greensboro. They would absorb themselves into the very heart of the music in those places, completely letting their bodies soak up Motown, Country, Rock ‘n’ Roll, Jazz and also they would visit John’s Uncle Pete in Greensboro.

This was going to be a trip of dreams.

But it turned into a nightmare.

Gina was so excited about the trip. She just couldn’t wait to immerse herself into all these different musical cultures and scenes.

However, John didn’t turn out to be quite so wild and musically adventurous as expected. The first stop on the tour had been Nashville – oh why had they planned it that way? The pair threw themselves into their game with no holds barred. They bought big stupid hats, stonewashed jeans that were so ridiculously tight they couldn’t possibly need a belt, but they bought belts anyway, with buckles bigger than Gina’s fist. FMB’s completed her look as they hit every ram shackle joint in town, Two-Stepping their way into heaven. It was fun, for a week it really was fun. For a week.

However, the week rolled on into two, and still Gina couldn’t get John back onto the road. Gina grew restless.

Billy Ray Cyrus became increasingly tiresome and, frankly, could take his Achy Breaky Heart and shove it, as far as Gina was concerned. She’d had enough and wanted to move onwards to Memphis.

“I was ready for Graceland! Line Dancing was a laugh, but have you ever actually listened to Country music Tom? It’s dire – it was turning my head inside out. John just seemed to lose himself in it completely. He started asking me to call him ‘John-boy’ and began calling me ‘M’aam’! It was madness mate; I just wanted to go and see Elvis and get some frilly skirts on.”

“Well yes Gina, I do understand that. My dad used to play Johnny Cash all the time when we were kids; I credit that for me wanting to leave for University”

“Exactly, Tom, exactly! I couldn’t stand it at all, and then John started making noises about using the very last of our travelling fund to trade in the Beetle for a pick-up truck. I panicked. That’s why I had to kill him in the end I suppose.”

“What’s that? You had to what?”

“Well, what would you have done? Of course I had to kill him, I wanted to Twist, I wanted to Jive. I needed to get out of Nashville Tom”

“Yes, well I see. I guess, I think I understand. Well under the circumstances I suppose you had better start calling me ‘Your Honour’, as opposed to Tom.”

“Oh right, yes sorry Tom, I mean ‘Your Worship’,’ Your Honour’, - Sir”

“Gina, you have pleaded guilty to murdering your former boyfriend, John O’Brien, by repeatedly whipping him around the head with an oversized belt buckle, and shoving a Chevy Silverado brochure up his backside. I shall now adjourn the court while I consider your sentence. I will, however, be taking into account the highly mitigating circumstances that the victim subjected you to an entirely unreasonable amount of Country and Western music, which could be seen as justifiable provocation. I will also consider the fact that the kiss we shared at that party still invades my dreams to this day, and that it is the very reason why I have never settled down or married. It’s always been you Gina. Always.

Court adjourned!”

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