HAPPY CANADA DAY!
Alright, so I'm going to go ahead and say the shameful truth about being a non-American fan of a Canadian thing: when Canada gets mentioned, you absolutely have to flip your shit. Even if that something is associating your nationality to a band of flesh-eating giant, you are going to have to freak out and highlight that bit of dialogue in your copy of The Sea of Monsters (I told you it was shameful). All this to say that I was basically contractually obliged to like Frank Zhang, but thankfully for me Frank is one of my favourite PJO characters of all times, so I'm good to go. I know that I write about him every single Canada Day without a fault, but why stop now?
Ignore the canon Riordan time line for Frank and Hazel's arrivals to Camp Jupiter and just go with this one, I messed up my stats and dates and mental chronology. I hope you enjoy anyways!
Disclaimer: I don't own the PJO universe. Also the Canada Day show on Parliament Hill this year was the bomb. Just saying.
Homesickness
Frank didn't know exactly how the Argo II worked mechanically speaking. His mom had had a bike that she'd known him how to fix up, and Frank had crawled under his grandmother's archaic Cadillac to change the oil once or twice before her vision got too bad for her to drive and the old thing started collecting dust. He didn't particularly want to ask Leo for help or knowledge at this point, and since most of the others were busy on the deck showing Hazel how to play beach volleyball before the next thing went wrong in the universe, Frank was willing to try something.
He got close to the magical portholes in the mess hall that always showed peaceful images of Camp Half-Blood. Frank had never been, but the camp made for a pretty picture. That's not why he was opposed to the picture, he was mostly just curious. And a little homesick.
"Hey," Frank said. He cleared his throat. "Umm, I don't… know if you can do this but… It's kind of a lonely day for me right now and I see that you're showing someone else's home right now. Could you, like, show me mine? Please?"
He felt stupid. What was the chance that the magic porthole would respond to his voice? Most of the ship responded to Leo's, and even if the porthole hypothetically could manage it then how would it know where Frank was from? He was blushing and about to mutter a nevermind when the porthole shimmered and showed Frank one of his favourite scenes at Camp Jupiter; just a bustling day in New Rome, completed with a long winding line in front of Gaius' Gelato Shop and street performers and scrambling children and legionnaires in armour patrolling for security (probably an added measure since Leo's fireball incident; civilian security was one of the legion's top priorities since the veterans there were the people who'd protected the legionnaires when they'd been small, and were now living the lives that demigods yearned for).
"No, no, no," Frank said. "I mean, sorry, thanks- I appreciate the images. But I was kind of hoping for my real home?"
The porthole shimmered again and Frank's shoulders slacked with relief when he saw what downtown Vancouver looked like.
The streets were full of people dressed from top to bottom in red and white with ridiculous fuzzy hats and hockey jerseys and flags wrapped around their shoulders. Frank could barely make out the hues and the maple leafs, but the streetlights and the bursts of fireworks overhead lit up the scene enough for his eyes confirm what his memories know: despite the fact that the world was nearing the apocalypse, the party was going strong.
It was crazy to Frank. Last time he'd been home he'd felt anything but happy and safe, but seeing the Canada Day party in the streets of Vancouver felt relieving and happy right away. He was smiling to himself like a goof right now, despite all the danger above deck and the fact all his friends were on the chopping block and that he could die any second and that his father was going nuts and that the world was about to burn…
He was happy.
And also sad.
Last time Frank had been home for Canada Day, Grandmother had stopped Frank from going downtown with his friends for the Canada Day celebrations- which sucked because this year they'd been planning on going to an even bigger event at Granville Island since Trish had just gotten her license. Frank had fought with her long and hard and he'd been annoyed and unhappy when they sat in the living room and watched the broadcast from the big Canada Day show in Ottawa. Meanwhile Grandmother was sipping her tea as if she hadn't just ruined Frank's day and sending him to go get her sugar and cream and whatnot, oblivious to the bad mood he was trying to project. Then he'd seen that during the segment where Canadian soldiers would wish a happy Canada day to their hometown and to their families, boom, Mom had been on TV. This had been only months before she died, and Frank hadn't really seen her since aside from on Skype or in pictures with letters.
If Frank had been back home, that wouldn't have bothered him. He would've listened to speeches reminding him that his mother had died for a cause she believed him. He would've been happy to be where he was from, instead of being the only one to drop 'eh's and talking about brands they didn't have here. (Newsflash: Americans didn't have Smarties. Not the right kind anyways, Frank had died inside). He'd had similar problems at camp -what, with the Stanley Cup results being impossible to find and the milk cartons throwing Frank off and the multitude of different states and laws making him dizzy. All of this had made last year's Canada Day a hard and lonely one- especially considering how big and bold and festive the fourth of July had been literally 72 hours later.
"Is that Vancouver?" Hazel asked behind him. Frank jumped, startled, but calmed down when he realised who it was.
"Yeah," Frank said. "Yeah, I just wanted to check in…"
Hazel looked at the screen and nodded. "Is it… is it like the Canadian fourth of July right now?"
"Canada Day," Frank said. "Yeah. Our constitution and stuff was signed on July first. Long story. History, actually."
"I didn't know," Hazel said. "Well, happy Canada Day."
"Thanks," Frank grinned.
Hazel looked at the porthole. "Is that Vancouver?"
"Yeah."
"It looks so pretty. Once the cannibals will have gone, you'll have to take me back," Hazel said.
His stomach did a little kick flip in his stomach. She was really planning on sticking around that long?
The last hint of nostalgia disappeared when Hazel wrapped an arm around Frank's waist and rested her head against his chest. The last hint of homesickness dissapeared when he realised that he wasn't lonely anymore. Hazel was here. He'd made her his rock, he'd made her his go-to when he was stuck in an unfamiliar crowd. He'd made her the highlight of his day and he'd memorised her like the back of his hand. He'd given her the key to his everything. He'd made Hazel his home, so why should he be homesick when she was here with her head resting on Frank's chest and while his arm was wrapped around her? He didn't have to forget about the old, not at all.
But Hazel, he knew, he would never have to do without.