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It was a seemingly normal night after a bust, but Egon had been pushing everyone a bit too hard that day. If anyone knew Egon, they knew he was not one to fool around. He was all business. He was always serious. They had all had just about enough, but Peter most of all.
The team was just about to sit down for dinner. Egon had beaten them to the table and had quietly started eating without the rest of them, eager to get back to experimenting in the lab.
“Hey, Egon? You want a soda with that?” Peter asked casually.
“Yes, Venkman, please.” He replied, never looking up.
While Winston and Ray were finishing up a game of pool, Peter went and retrieved a can of soda from the fridge. He paused to survey his surroundings. All alone in the kitchen, he slunk to a lower cabinet and steadily opened the door, careful not to invite a creak. He reached over a few taller items that were towards the front until his hands grasped a familiar glass form. He pulled out a bottle of rum. It was his own private stash, and a strong stash at that. He cradled it, practically caressing it. Well, Pete, this might just be the best plan you’ve ever had. He thought to himself as he opened both the can and bottle, and proceeded to pour just enough Coke out to let a little goodness in.
Peter exited the kitchen, whistling like a songbird.
“Here you go, my man! One Coca Cola coming up!” Peter was extra cheery, and considering the event that was about to unfold, he was rightly so. Egon took the can without even looking up from a manual he was reading. Peter, a tad disgruntled, rolled his eyes at his ungrateful friend.
As the others came over to the table, Peter became lost in thought as he eyed Egon who was totally focused on his work. Ray asked Peter to pass a slice of deep dish pizza over, and it almost took him by surprise, but he did his best to seem inconspicuous. Ray and Winston took their first bites of their meal as Egon tilted his chin over to the can. Peter watched as his lips met the rim and he gently tossed back a gulp of the carbonated drink. Egon put the can down, and continued to read, eyes never leaving the page. Had he seriously not detected anything strange about the drink? Guess not. Peter took his first wedge of pizza and sniffed, savoring the moment, and then quickly devoured his meal.
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Egon finished the first can, and plopped it down on the table. “Mmm, that was good.” Egon said, deeply.
“You want another one?” Peter said, smirking slightly.
“No, I shouldn’t. I eat enough sweets as it is. Too much sugar.”
“And you burn a lot of well deserved calories bustin’ ghosts. Guys, am I right?
“Ye-yeah I guess. “The other two agreed, slightly confused.
“Spengy, Spengy, Spengy, you’ve been too hard on yourself lately. Come on, you deserve it.” Peter had Ray and Winston’s undivided attention now.
“Oh alright. Just one more.”
Peter secretly reveled in his victory as he repeated the same process again, but he was interrupted. As he was finished he turned only to be met by Winston. He jumped, almost losing a few drops from his concoction. “WIN-ssston, sheesh!”
“Peter what are you doing?”He whispered.
“Nothing-“
“Come on-the truth, Peter?” Winston raised an eyebrow and stood with his hands on his hips.
Nothin- jus’ getting’ Egon some rum and Coke-“
“WHAT!?” Winston’s hoarse whisper was almost audible in the dining room.
“-Just some Coke.” Peter corrected himself. Geez, and he was the one who wasn’t drinking.
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Winston eyed Egon and Peter a little more suspiciously this time. He was surprised and having a medical background, started thinking over all the scenarios and all the things that could go wrong with this plan. Egon had never had an alcoholic drink in his life, therefore he had no idea what it tasted like. But having never drank also meant that Egon had no tolerance. How would it effect him? He was already behind at the starting gate, having a tall, lean build. But Winston let it happen for the moment. He thought about all the times Egon had gotten on his nerves that day, and the day before, and the day before that and so on. This was quite a masterful plan, devised by the best. Besides, the “serious” professor needed to loosen up. It probably would be the best thing for him. And if things got out of hand, he would be able to take care of it, right?
The night carried on and the team had long since finished the pizza, but Egon wasn’t finished with his “soda.”
“Mmm. I have to- to tell ya Venk- “he hiccupped,”-man, I don’t know where you got thish shtuff, but IIIIIIIIII like it!” Egon chuckled to himself as he sipped a few more drops.
Winston was finding it hard not to grin as he watched the look of complete and utter happiness steal across both Peter and Egon’s faces. Ray on the other hand, had his jaw on the floor and his nose twisted out of joint in bewilderment.
“Ooooh, same place as usual. It’s a new flavor. Just came out.” Peter mused.
“Wooooooow! This stuff’s great. Cola Coca shoud be proud of themselves.” Egon began eyeing his drink, which was now been upgraded to a glass and straw, as if inspecting it.
Ok, this was getting too weird.
Ray leaned across the table and gave Peter a firm swat on the shoulder. Peter flinched. “What the-“
“What the what” Ray gestured to Egon. “Huh?”
“What, can’t a man have a couple sodas? For cryin’ out loud the man never takes a vacation. He owes it to himself!”
Ray glared at Peter. Out of all them, Ray liked to think of himself as the “kinder” brother. He couldn’t help but think they were playing with fire.
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The night went on as they watched Egon down another. Ray and Winston watched in surprise as their normally stoic partner began blowing bubbles with the straw he was given.
“Hmmmmm, “ Egon hummed to himself as he peered into the fizz. The bubbles broke away and wafted into the air and out of his glass. “Ah ha!” He yawped, startling the others who were in a trance as Peter’s plan kept rolling. “A carbon atom!” He pointed to the cluster of bubbles which just so happened to resemble the atomic structure of the element. He stuck his long index finger out, concentrating intently, and then POP! Egon laughed to himself with a sheepish and bashful grin. He discovered a few more molecules in his glass, and after he coaxed them out –POP! POP! POP! He buried his face with his hand, trying to hide his amusement, his glasses askew on his face.
“Ok,” Ray said, rising from the table,” I think Egon is sufficiently relaxed now.” His eyes bugged at Peter, urging him to get up as well and take responsibility for his actions.
Peter was only reluctant because of the way Ray was looking at him. He was never one to give in but he knew he had pushed it a bit too far. “Yup, I think Ray’s right. Time for bed. I’m beat. How ‘bout you, Egon? You going to call it a night? ”He asked as he stood the spindly physicist upright. Egon nodded and smiled. Peter patted him on the arm. “Good man.” Peter turned to pick up the trash from dinner. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a still smiling Egon leaning all the way forward. “Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa!” Winston said as they all raced in to catch him. Egon started humming to himself as the guys struggled to support him.
Winston groaned “He’s a lot heavier than he looks!” He finally found some decent leverage underneath Egon’s arm. Peter strived to find a grip on his squirming partner. Peter’s hand brushed Egon’s side, untucking his sweater vest and shirt. Egon giggled and jumped. Peter tried to get a hand back on one of his spindly limbs.
“Well, what do you know? He’s ticklish!” Winston exclaimed.
“I think . . . he loosened up . . . way too much!” Peter exclaimed.
“Don’t look at me!” Ray shouted.
Despite Winston’s support, Egon’s feet failed him, crumpling under his weight and compromised by the apparent spin in the room. Egon motioned his index fingers as if he were a conductor. “If there’s stranger things . . . in your neighbor’s hood . . . “He squeaked out, singing to himself with his eyes closed.
“Peter grab his feet.” Winston commanded.
Peter did as he was told, and the Marine and parapsychologist brought their physicist friend to his bunk.
It didn’t take long for the newfound giddiness and energy to leave Egon, and his body went slack as they made their way to the bedroom. They laid him down slowly onto the bed. Winston removed Egon’s shoes and Peter removed his glasses and folded them on the nightstand beside him.
“Vvvvry good. Thanks Pete, those started not to work anyways.” Egon’s eyes fluttered open, attempting to ward off sleep.
“Probably defective.” Peter humored him.
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They left Egon in his bunk, but Peter returned shortly with a glass of water. Egon was already asleep, or so he thought. Peter plunked the glass of water down on the nightstand next to his glasses.
“You’re a good friend, Peter.” Egon’s voice was gentle, but tired. “I . . . don’t think I say that often enough.” He let out a sigh and drifted off once again.
Peter smirked at his friend, who lay in formal yet disheveled clothes on top of the covers, his hand resting on his stomach. The comment drew out of modicum of guilt in Peter’s soul. How could he do this? His friend trusted him. “Thanks.” Peter almost choked on the word, and turned to leave.
“You didn’t think I knew?”Egon said in a tone that made Peter’s stomach knot.
“What do you mean?” Peter said innocently.
“It was you who s-stole and ate my last slice . . . not R-Ray.”
Peter was relieved. “Oh-yeah! You got me on that one. Couldn’t get one by you!”
“Hmph.”Egon smiled, eyes still closed. “Aww, that’s okay. I forgive you.” He hiccupped one last time before becoming replaced by the low rumble of a snore.
Peter smiled back. For some reason the simplicity and pureness of the phrase “I forgive you” made Egon appear to be a child at heart. It seemed proof enough that somewhere underneath his seemingly cold exterior and unwaivering focus, was a pure and vulnerable human.
Peter made his way out of the room, and made a clear path to the bathroom. “Oh you forgive me now,” Peter said to himself,” but you are going to hate me royally in the morning.”
THE END