Chapter 17: How to make an American Guilttrip

Took two days until Dr. Hibbert announced that Bart was able to leave the hospital.

Fortunately, upon giving the transfusion, Mr. Burns also had a speedy recovery and was discharged even before Bart had awakened.

Herb was also excited because he wouldn't have been able to get Bart the blood he needed, due to America's war in Iran.

Alex was the one who helped him out of the hospital by wheelchair, and Bart was grateful.

Bart was a little overwhelmed, however, seeing three faces so close to his past.

Gina, Laura, and Greta had all came to see him on his way out.

After saying goodbye to all these women, Bart looked up at Alex as she pushed him down and out of the hall.

"I'm sorry if their coming here made you uncomfortable in anyway."

Alex smiled as she soon got him out of the building.

"It really wasn't that bad, Bart. We're all glad you came out of this in one piece."

Bart smiled and nodded.

The two had reached the parking lot, where Milhouse was waiting with Martin's borrowed van.

It was decided that Milhouse would drive Bart around town until Bart was feeling better.

As Lisa Simpson walked around town with Nelson Muntz, she could tell that she was actually enjoying herself, which was a little weird.

Lisa, in her mind, had never imagined that she'd be going out with Nelson due to his reputation of being the hard-ass around town.

However, recently, he had thrown that impression she had of him out the window, as he showed the new older side of him, which Lisa appreciated.

Being accepting of those who did not fully meet his demands was a pleasant change for Lisa.

His job status as a bouncer still brought fear to those who've misbehaved at Moe's, and it seemed those reactions were now also given to Lisa.

Everyone around town seemed to take a certain precaution when talking with Lisa, which she felt was a little unnerving. Grant it, she DID like spending time with him and she was rediscovering her childhood crush that she had on the man. but she still was preparing herself for the time when she knew Nelson would only come to show that he was still the guy he was seventeen years ago.

Lisa was still happy with him, not at all disappointed.

The two walked around the corner of the Al's Pancakes and were about to walk further until something cause Lisa to stop.

Nelson, a little irritated by the abruptness, turned to her.

"What?" He asked.

Lisa pointed.

Across the street, The Jazz Hole, a place that held so much for Lisa when she was younger, had a for sale sign outside.

"Oh, no." Lisa said in a sad low tone.

Nelson looked in the direction she was looking and shrugged, "Sometimes, things have got to go."

Lisa scowled at him and jerked her hand away from his.

"How can you be so insensitive? The Jazz Hole was like another home to me."

Nelson shifted, uncomfortably. "Sorry, Lisa."

Lisa turned away, "Just go. I need to be alone, for right now."

Lisa heard him mutter something, what it was she didn't care, and then she heard him leaving.

Lisa turned around and walked across the street to the building that had been one of the few places she could find solitude. As she stood about three feet from it, more memories took hold of her and she tearfully recalled the moments she had spent with her muse, the late Bleeding Gums Murphy.

A barrage of images flashed in her mind. Ones of her when she was younger looking up at her mentor on that cold night playing on the edge of a bridge. It then changed to Lisa sitting with her family in the club she was looking at, listening happily as Murphy belted out her sorrowful song of being the daughter of her father's. Then, the last image that flashed, which brought tears to her eyes, was the one when she had last spent with Murphy. Inside the hospital playing a duet with the man just before he gave up his sax to her and had passed the night following.

Lisa wiped away a tear and she then sat down on the street corner, thinking.

Now, the last place I've found peace in is going to be taken away from me.

She then looked up at the building and noticed, suddenly, a name that appeared with the for sale announcement.

An urge flowed through Lisa and she found herself determined not to have everything she had lost to be in vain.

Taking out a pen and a piece of torn paper, Lisa wrote down the number of the realtor selling the property.

Maggie was finding herself in a difficult position. She was outside taking a break, smoking, and a parent of one of the new kids she was supervising at the rock-climbing area of the center, and confronted her about her habit.

"Don't you realize what you're doing to your body?" Said the woman, pointedly.

Maggie extinguished the half-smoked cigarette against her shoe and nodded.

"Yeah. I do."

The women put her hands against her hips, "Miss Simpson, if the children see you doing this, they'll think it's okay. They all look up to you; thinking you're like a big sister. Don't you want to set a good example for them?"

Maggie sighed, "I've been trying to quit for the past three years. It's hard. Besides, I always tell them not to bother me when I'm on my break, and they've always listened."

The mother shook her head, "That's not always going to work. One day one of them isn't going to listen and they'll find you out here doing this to yourself."

Maggie rolled her eyes, "What would you like me to do, then? I've tried everything: gum, patches, lozenges, herbal remedies, everything."

The woman reached into her purse and pulled out a pamphlet, and gave it to Maggie.

"Believe it or not, I used to smoke when I was around your age as well. These people helped me."

Maggie took the pamphlet and looked at it skeptically.

"What is this, some sort of seminar or group discussion, thing?"

The woman sighed, "Look, if you're comfortable about your habit, I'm not going to force you, but when it comes to my child and the children of the other parents' I need to makes sure I'm comfortable with whomever those kids are set up with. I'm know you're doing a wonderful job with them, Miss Simpson, but I think I'm going to recommend to your boss that he have someone else to look after them. I can't afford to take the risk of any of them seeing what you do on your breaks and think that it's acceptable because they like you."

Maggie looked down at the pamphlet and up at the woman.

"If I do this, you aren't going to go and speak with my boss?"

The woman nodded. "Just go and see if you can gain anything by meeting these people. Who knows, you might find out that you can quit by attending these sessions."

Maggie hated ultimatums, but she knew if she ever wanted to see those kids again and be able to be on good terms with her boss that this was the way to do it.

"Alright. I'll go." She said.

Bart's chest hurt like hell and he found, at times, it was hard to breathe. Dr. Hibbert had prescribed some Demerol and other pain medications. Bart was relieved that it was in small dosages because he knew he never wanted to get addicted to the painkillers. He remembered, in High School, after a snow boarding accident that Milhouse had been given some painkillers and was addicted to them at a dangerous level. Helping him through that was a nightmare.

Milhouse was determined to make sure Bart was taking the right dosage as well.

Bart knew he couldn't have had a better friend than this one.

Milhouse also made sure that all the alcohol was removed from Bart's apartment and that whenever he took his medication that it was taken either with decaffeinated-tea, water, or fruit juice. Bart was discouraged from taking anything that was a stimulant or a depressant.

Other than the tediousness of getting well again, Bart was bored. Alex was busy getting her store ready so she could begin designing the clothes. This meant that her times with Bart were becoming littler and littler with each passing day. Bart also found that his work from the office wasn't coming to him, that his associates had decided to divide up his cases and just to call and fill Bart in on each one.

Bart was bored and it was driving him insane.

Using his cane, Bart fumbled around his apartment trying to find anything to do.

He remembered the time when he had broken his leg and Lisa had given him her telescope to occupy his time while the other kids enjoyed the pool Homer got for Bart and Lisa. Bart, at first thought of giving Lisa a call and see about getting it back, again, but he knew she probably would be against him using it. The last time he did, it resulted in a misunderstanding with Ned Flanders whom Bart thought murdered his wife. Lisa was probably wise not to let Bart have it now, considering how much medication Bart was on.

Bart decided to maybe just let the TV drown him and he sat down and grabbed the remote.

Turning on the set, Krusty, who was in his in his fifties, was still doing the shtick he's always been good at. Sideshow Mel, who retired when he wrote an autobiography telling his dickenzien-like childhood which rose to him starring in one of the twentieth centuries' most beloved children's program. After unsuccessfully trying to go at it alone, Krusty was forced to find a replacement. The one he found, however, didn't speak any English. Sideshow Tassu was of Inuit origin and would only stare absent-mindedly at Krusty's antics. The audience loved this, only because Krusty couldn't make him do anything, which led to Krusty shouting.

"C'mon! You're getting paid! I want you to jump through the flaming hoop! Jump!"

Sideshow Tassu looked at him and then said something, to which Krusty sighed and then turned to the camera.

"Here's Itchy and Scratchy, we'll be right back."

Bart stretched, which caused him to wince and he waited till the pain subsided and then sat back down on the sofa.

Maybe some good ol' quality time with the tube is what I need. He thought.

Bart got himself some tea and then settled down to watch some of his old friends.

To both Lisa's surprise and luck the realtor that was handling The Jazz Hole property was none other than Laura Powers. Lisa was happier when she was able to get an appointment with Laura and the two met at Jimbo's for lunch.

Laura was a little under the weather when she met up with Lisa. Having been battling a cold for two days, she still remained professional as she shook Lisa's hand as the two sat down.

Blowing her nose on a Kleenex, she apologetically put it away and then looked at the menu.

"So…I think I'll have the Cesar Salad and…maybe some hot tea." Laura told the waiter.

"And you, Miss?" He asked Lisa.

"The same." She said.

After the waiter left, Laura began to go into the sale and much to Lisa's disappointment there has already been a bid placed on the property.

"Which was odd, because I met this woman before." Laura said.

"Before the property came up for sale?" Lisa asked.

Laura nodded, "I met her in the hospital, when Bart was there. She actually is an old acquaintance of his."

"Who?" Lisa asked. Lisa struggled with her mind to remember if she saw anyone else at the hospital besides Laura and Gina. She knew it wasn't Gina and it obviously wasn't Laura.

Laura brought out a piece of paper and wrote down some information.

"I can't give you her name due to client privileges, so here's her number so if you want to get in touch with her. I know it's hard for you to up her price since she put quite a bid on the place."

Lisa nodded and took the number and put it into her purse.

The two then discussed about The Jazz Hole and what Lisa planned to do if Lisa was able to get hold of it.

"Kicking The Butt" was the name of the support group that Maggie was referred to by the mother of one of her kids. The name was humorous and Maggie decided it was worth to at least to sit in on one of their discussions.

It was a typical quitting program, they had coffee laid out and some appetizers such as bread sticks and some other quick eats as people sat around in folding chairs inside the High School GYM.

Maggie hadn't been to this GYM in so long, she felt a little nervous coming here as she was afraid to run into some faculty who would, no doubt, confront her on her dropping out and lecture her on the importance of a High School education. Although Maggie had already earned her G.E.D she still knew that these people would still gang up on her about the choice she made several years ago.

She was right. The person leading the group discussion was her old Science teacher, Mr. Hall. As soon as he spotted her sitting far away from the others, he approached her.

"Margaret Simpson, so glad to see you in this group."

Maggie politely shook the man's hand.

"I'm happy that you decided to take this, it was hard for me, as your teacher, to see you doing something as poisonous as smoking."

Maggie faked an agreeing smile and nod.

"So, are you still pursuing your dancing career?" He asked, pulling up a chair and sat across from her.

Maggie nodded, "I'm graduating this spring."

Mr. Hall sighed, "I know you're probably sick of others telling you this, but, I still wish you graduated from High School. You had such great potential."

To Maggie, that comment stung, but it wasn't the first time she had heard it.

As other people were coming in Mr. Hall got up.

"Could you come closer, into the group? It'll be easier for me."

Maggie sighed and did as she was asked.

As others came in, she looked around to see if there were any that she recognized, but to her disappointment, she didn't recognize anybody.

Mr. Hall stood in the center of the "U" shaped area of where the chairs were and had a rolling marker board next to him, which had "Welcome smokers!" in big letters.

To Maggie's surprise every chair was filled and the people in the group gave Mr. Hall their full attention.

"Welcome, everybody. I'm Robert Hall, or as some of you who have children that go here know me as Mr. Hall. You can either call me Rob or Mr. Hall, and as we go along, you can tell me what you'd prefer to be called."

He then turned to the board and started writing down short phrases such as "Why I smoke", "When I Started Smoking", and finally, "Why I want to quit".

Maggie anxiously looked at her watch and moaned quietly to herself.

Mr. Hall, once he finished writing, turned to the group.

"We're going to start by introducing ourselves and state, in short, why we're smoking now. First, I'd like you all to know that I used to smoke, did it for four years as means to medicate myself after my divorce, and tried unsuccessfully to quit numerous amounts of time. It was only when I saw the faces of my students and how they reacted when I reeked of it, did I finally have the determination to see it out. That and the "Kicking the Butt" 's $49.95 plan which helped me get out of the tobacco stores."

Maggie, who was looking at the floor, at the time, looked up in alarm.

What?

Mr. Hall went to a man who had an eye patch.

"Why did you start, mister…?"

"Dawson." He answered. "I started when I was twenty and it was because all my friends were doing it."

Mr. Hall shook his head; "Peer pressure is one of the main things that cause people to smoke."

Mr. Dawson nodded, "Yup. That's how I lost my eye too. All of you should never get into a fork-staring contest, if you know what's good for ya."

Mr. Hall nodded, "You know, Mr. Dawson, you can, for $49.95, get rid of your smoking so you don't have to feel ashamed of that either."

Mr. Dawson thought about it while Mr. Hall went to the next person.

Maggie's mouth was opened in shock.

I don't believe this! Why is Mr. Hall peddling out this product? Why is everybody not asking why this isn't a class but more a less a sales pitch?

Soon, Mr. Hall reached Maggie.

"Aw, Miss Simpson, now to you. Folks, I don't need her introduction. This is Maggie Simpson. Maggie used to be a student of mine before she carelessly dropped out of High School to get into less educational studies. Maggie, why do you smoke?"

Maggie glared at Mr. Hall for both this whole charade and the fact he was publicly insulting her.

"I smoke, because I like it!" She said bitterly.

Mr. Hall, not taking any notice to her tone, nodded, "Uh huh, and what started this?"

Maggie knew that she started because she was young and her Aunt Selma did it, but she was so furious at Mr. Hall that she decided to fib.

"You did." She lied.

Mr. Hall took a step back. "What?"

"Smelling the rich scent of tobacco on your clothes when I came into class each day had me lusting after the cancer stick to be placed between my lips and to take in that deep, satisfying, deadly air. I wasn't the only one who felt this way. Other kids in your class felt the same. Yes, sir, if there was anything that we learned in Mr. Hall's class it was that we all loved smoking just as much as he did." Maggie knew she was over doing it but just to see the deep shock in the others' faces and to have Mr. Hall's expression go from calm to fear. Was well worth it.

Mr. Hall cleared his throat as he addressed the others.

"Well, uh, wow! Look at the time. I guess we're going to have to cut today's session short. Uh, class dismissed."

As everyone got up to leave Mr. Hall scowled at Maggie and held her down with his hand on her shoulder.

"Not for you, Miss Simpson."

Alex walked around her building and smiled. It was nearly completed.

After spending so many hours debating costs and procedures, the place was finally was coming together.

She was thinking about calling Bart and letting him know what the progress was like, but when she looked at the time she decided against it.

He's probably sleeping right now. Better let him have his rest.

Getting into a cab and heading to the Simpson's house, a thought crossed Alex's mind.

Why am I still staying at the house? Bart and I are engaged; shouldn't we be sleeping in the same place?

With that thought in mind, she held the cab when she arrived and quickly got everything that she owned and told the driver to take her to Bart's apartment.

When she arrived, it was just as she had expected.

Bart was passed out in front of the television set, where the Krusty the Clown marathon was still playing.

Deciding not to awake him, Alex took her suitcase and valuables and put them in his closet, she then took all her toiletry things and put them in the bathroom.

When she had finished, Alex went to the kitchen and got a glass of water and then went over and sat down next to Bart on the sofa.

For a minute or so, she watched Bart who seemed to be dreaming as he was mumbling to himself.

Kissing him on the forehead, she went to the linen closet and got out a blanket and covered both her and Bart as she snuggled up next to him.

Before she fell asleep, Alex could hear Bart saying her name and she noticed a smile creeping across his face.

Alex smiled too, thinking.

Well Alex Whitney, you've got your man, you're your dream business, your health, and the looks; what more could you ask for?

Alex then heard Bart mutter something about telling Homer that he wanted to go fishing with Milhouse rather than go to church and asked Homer if he could watch "the kids" for him till he got back.

Alex kissed Bart again.

There'll be time for that later. The thought was meant for the both of them.

Bart awoke the next morning and stretched, this time he was relieved that there wasn't any pain that went along with it. To his surprise, he noticed that Alex was fast asleep next to the spot he was.

Smiling, Bart covered her up with his portion of the blanket.

Going to the bathroom Bart reached for his toothbrush. After applying the toothpaste on it he scrubbed his teeth and then stopped.

For some reason Bart couldn't feel any of the bristles on his brush. Instead his whole mouth tasted like paper.

When he pulled it out of his mouth, he discovered, to his horror, that it wasn't his toothbrush. It wasn't anything related to a brush.

It was a tampon still in its container.

Bart immediately threw the thing to the floor and took a nearby glass, filled it with water, and started clearing out his mouth.

After spitting, Bart noticed that a lot of feminine products were now in his bathroom. A blow dryer, curling iron, crimper, and some weird thing that was a bag attached to a tube, that Bart couldn't identify.

Bart could only guess what this could mean. Alex had moved in with him.

At first, Bart's sense of self-righteousness kicked in and he was wondering why she thought it of herself to invade his space so suddenly. Then, Bart's common sense kicked in and he realized that, to Alex, this was a step needed to be taken.

After all, if you can't live with your soon-to-be-wife then when can you?

Bart sighed. He knew that proposing to Alex would mean sacrificing some of his bachlorhood, which he knew he must do.

Looking at his bathroom, though, an unwanted thought passed through his head.

Can I do it, though?

Bart remembered when Gina had stayed at his place for a week until she was able to get into an apartment. That week, Bart remembered, vividly, was not good. Gina had her clothes all over the place, which to Bart was a constant memory of his mother bitching at him to clean his own room when he was younger. Bart, at this time, in turn, had yelled at Gina to pick up after herself.

Now, two years later, engaged to, what Bart considered to be, the most attractive and cleverest woman, he has ever met. He was faced with a similar ordeal.

Bart walked out of the bathroom and looked at Alex who was shifting as she dreamed.

Bart shook his head.

I made a choice. I'm engaged to the girl, I've always wanted. I can't be selfish anymore. He thought.

Bart walked away and then the image of Gina's belongings snapped back into his mind.

Right? He asked himself.

Lisa was watching the phone all day, debating with herself whether or not to make the call to the person who had the highest bid on The Jazz Hole.

The last time Lisa could remember doing this was when she was eight and she was addicted to The Corey Hotline.

Lisa had been up all night trying to find out what the pros and cons would be to making this call. Lisa had prided herself in the fact that she never gave into temptation so easily, never once.

However, the idea of The Jazz Hole being turned into like a glue factory or some other monstrosity made the soul inside Lisa ache.

Taking a deep breath, Lisa made her decision.

Taking hold of the phone, she dialed the number.

She was tempted, after several rings, to just hang up and try again another day. Then, the message machine picked up.

"Hi! You've reached the number of Greta Wolfcastle. I'm sorry I'm not here to take your call, but please call my agent at 555-2478 and I'll get back to you at the most convenient time. Thank you."

Lisa was speechless after hearing the message.

She vaguely remembered the person whom she briefly met when she was younger and a couple of days ago she heard that she was one of the few people who had come to visit Bart.

Lisa had done what the message had asked of her and, to her surprise, she received a message on her cell from Greta.

"Hi Lisa. Wow, weird coincidence about The Jazz Hole being something we're both after, huh? Well, I'm sorry to tell you that I'm not going to give it for free. This is a little out of my place but I'll only do it for a favor. Please call me back and I'll give you all the details. Ciao!

Maggie was pissed off to the max. Mr. Hall had put her into a tight corner. When everyone had left he revealed to her that he knew what her true purpose was to attend these meetings. The mother had contacted him and asked him to let her know if Maggie was going to show today and then give her a progress update on her in the class. Mr. hall took satisfaction knowing that Maggie had to do anything he said or else he was going to report back to her and Maggie knew that only spelled out doom to her job.

Mr. Hall had her purchase, not only the beginner's package, but the intermediate and advanced one as well.

Maggie felt dirty. Not only was she being forced to buy in to this program, but also the mere fact that Mr. Hall had her where he wanted made Maggie sick.

There was only one way out of this and Maggie knew she'd be lucky if they would be willing to do it.

To be continued…