A cool night wind blew a tree branch against a small drapedwindow, brushing soft leafs against the glass until its gentle pattering echoed off the walls. Wrapped securely in covers splattered with the face of a cheerful yellow duck, a little girl squeezed her eyes ever tighter, trying to block out the sound in an attempt to sleep. The winds gust proved to be too much, however, and soon the child gave up her futile fight and lay staring up at her bedroom ceiling. Her Ducky Momo wall clock, the one she had begged her mother to get her solely for fact that it had the face of her favorite cartoon character as the main attraction, soon became an annoyance as the tick-tick-ticking seemed to become persistent. It was almost as if it were scolding her for being up so far past her bedtime, but if only it knew what had happened earlier that day her beloved clock would understand why she was having such trouble falling asleep.
Little Candace, hair all a mess and eyes puffed from sleep deprivation, sighed into her pillow and drew her plush duck toy closer to her chest for comfort. Disconcerting thoughts swirled about her head in such a swarm that she wasn't sure what to think about first; she thought about the tree branch outside her window and told herself it was only the wind causing such noise, not a monster waiting to eat her; she thought about the clock on her wall and how upset her mother would be if she found her still awake; she thought of the brown haired man who she had heard leave the house only a few hours ago, and of his funny way of talking, and how he always tried to give her weird candy from "across the pond"; though Candace didn't know of any pond near her house.
She traced the outline of her toy and reflected on the events from the past few weeks, how her mother had sat her down with a bowl of ice cream and a smile that looked a little sad and told her how she decided that she didn't want her to be Candace Morrison anymore, but Candace Flynn instead. Her mother had showed her how to spell the name, and Candace had to admit it was easier and shorter than Morrison had been, but it felt odd and uncomfortable to say, like a new shirt that didn't quite fit properly.
When she told her mother how she didn't want a new name, that she had liked her old name just the way it was, the older woman had only shaken her head and told her that she would grow to like this new name just as much. She pointed out that Candace Flynn would get to be closer to the front of the line at school because 'F' went before 'M', and how that had been her mothers last name before she had met daddy, and now that he wasn't home anymore it would be her last name once again;even her baby brother was going to have his name changed, so they'd all be 'Flynn's' together. It didn't sound so bad when it was put that way, and talking about it made her mothers eyes look all gloomy and glossy like she might cry, so Candace had stuck another spoonful of ice cream in her mouth and agreed to never be a Morrison again.
It hadn't been so bad, being Candace Flynn instead of Candace Morrison. It didn't make her feel any different, and her friends at school had thought it was 'cool' that she got to get a new name; some of them even made up their own names so that they could be different people too, but the teacher still didn't let them stand farther up in line like she got to.
That had all ended up being alright, but then a few weeks later her mother had sat her down again, this time with pie, and told her that she had a very special friend she wanted her and her brother to meet. That was when she had met the brown haired man; it was sometimes hard for her to remember his name because it was long and kind of weird. She thought her mother might have said it was 'Lawance', but she wasn't sure. He'd been nice enough, she supposed, and her brother Phineas seemed to like him an awful lot, though Candace suspected it was because he would bounce the young boy on his knee whenever he asked him too. Her mother had told them that Lawrence had a son who was about Phineas's age, and that maybe they could meet each other someday if 'things kept going well'. Candace didn't know what that meant, so she'd asked her Gran-Gran, who gave her a wrinkled smile and told her that it meant Lawrence might be her new daddy someday.
Her Gran-Gran was old and silly, though. Candace knew that Lawrence couldn't be her daddy, because she already had one of those, and even though he hadn't been home in what felt like forever she knew that he'd be back someday. Sometimes she cried a little because she missed him, but even though her mother always told her that she didn't know when her father would come back home, she was sure that it wouldn't be too much longer before his car pulled up in the driveway and she'd get to play with his bushy red beard again.
Sometimes, when she asked, Candace's mother would tell her that she didn't think her father was ever going to come back, that he had something he was looking for and that it might take him a very long time to find it. Candace had offered to look as well, but her mother had only kissed her head and told she couldn't, that she would understand when she was older.
Candace clutched at her covers and thought about the calendar in the kitchen. Her birthday was only one page away, so soon, she would be older, but she wondered if she was going to get older much too late. Lawrence and her mother had been spending more and more time together, and she'd overheard her mother talking to Gran-Gran about how he'd told her that they could all go live at his house, if they wanted to. Candace didn't really like the old, small house she shared with her mother and brother now, but she did know one thing for sure; when a man and woman lived together with kids that meant they were a mommy and daddy, and Lawrence was not her daddy.
Her mother seemed to forget that, though. She didn't tell her that they were going to live at the brown-haired-man's house, but she did say that next week they would meet his son. Gran-Gran's words echoed in Candace's head, and she threw her covers off in defiance, climbing over the side of the bed as a sudden resolve over-came her.
Maybe Candace wasn't older yet, but she was close enough, and if she could find her real daddy then he could put a stop to all of this talk about moving and meeting strange kids. He'd get to meet Phineas, too; they didn't know he'd been in her mother's tummy until after her father had left, so Phineas never got to play with his beard the way Candace had, or listen to the way he'd pronounce words funny because he had an 'accent', or eat the tasty porridge he would sometime's make on cold mornings.
Stepping quietly so as not to wake her mother down the hall, Candace filled her small pink duffle bag with the essentials; her favorite pink dress, a hair brush, the socks with the pictures of Ducky Momo on them, and, of course, candy from last Halloween so she wouldn't be hungry. Even as she packed, however, a small part of her was whispering if bringing her father back was such a good idea after all; she did miss him, and it wasn't fair that Phineas never got a chance to be with him like Candace had. Still, things had been a bit strange when he lived with them, she had to admit. There had been a lot of yelling in the months before he left. Once, on a particularly scary night, she heard her mother doing most of the yelling, and then she heard the sound of glass breaking, and Candace supposed it must have been her mother who broke whatever the glass had been because her father had started yelling at her for throwing things.
It was always more frightening when her father yelled than when her mother did. While her mother shouting was frequently more of a shriek, high-pitched and sharp, her father's voice was loud. It would boom off the walls all the way up to Candace's room, and it seemed like the whole house would shake from his deep tone; angry words that felt too powerful for her to handle and always made her reach out for her Ducky Momo doll and hold it tightly in her grip.
Candace bit her lip as she looked down at her packed bag and chewed, considering her options. She mulled a few ideas in around in her head for a bit before tightening the bag and quickly dressing herself in her white overalls with the pink shirtand belt before slipping on her shoes, tip-toeing down to the tiny room beside her where her brother slept soundly in her old toddler bed. She crept towards him as silently as she could;carefully stepping over toys and small structures he'd made out of his building blocks, and gently shook his small shoulders until he began to whimper in his sleep.
"Shhh." Candace whispered, holding a finger up to her lips in a signal of silence, "It's ok Phineas, it's just sissy. Come on, you have to wake up now."
Her little brother blinked up at her groggily, his small lips forming somewhat of a pout before he muttered one of his easier words, "No."
"Yes." Candace retorted, trying to sound firm yet gentle like her mother always did. She slid her hands underneath Phineas's small back and lifted him out of bed, earning a displeased cry from her brother as he tried to twist his body to fall back into his bed.
"No, tiwed!" He whined as she set him on the ground, pulling him back when he attempted to reach back for his pillow and blanket.
"Hush, Phineas! I know you're tired. Here, have this." Candace was not a selfish child, per say, but she was quite attached to her Ducky Momo doll; so when Phineas saw her hand the plush toy to him willingly, the same toy that she'd always yelled at him for so much as nudging, he grew quiet and eagerly latched onto it.
He looked up at her, red hair sticking out in all directions and large blue eyes still heavy with sleep, his tone sweet as he murmured, "Tank you…"
Candace gave her doll one last longing look before directing her attention back to her sibling, placing her hands on her little hips as she lectured him, "It's only for a little bit, ok? And only if you keep quiet, so don't let him drag on the floor or anything or he'll get dirty. Ok?"
"Otay." Phineas nodded vigorously, his voice a quick whisper in the darkness of his room. He watched as his older sister began to cram some of his clothes into her back-pack; he began to whine when she picked up his favorite red tee with the dinosaur on it, but went quiet when she gave him an angry look. The bag was tightened once more, and Candace turned her attention to dressing Phineas now, who struggled under her tiny grip.
"Nooo." He wiggled loose of her when she tried to take off his pajama's, stumbling to the other side of the bed. His sister could glare at him all she wanted; he was quite comfortable in his pajamas, thank you very much, and had no intention of getting out of them.
Candace, however, had other plans. She snatched the Ducky Momo doll away from him, earning a dismayed cry in response, and held it out of his reach when he stretched out his hands for it.
"No, Phineas, bad! Get dressed or no toy!"
Phineas looked up at her in injured shock. He almost started to wail again, but remembered the conditions for being able to hold the precious fluffy duck, and so obediently allowed Candace to remove his footsie pajama's in favor of some tiny jean overall's and a white tee. When he remained quiet, Candace gave him back the toy, letting him clutch it as she clumsily placed his shoes on his feet.
"Now, we have to be really quiet when we go outside, 'cause mommy's sleeping, and we don't want her to wake up, ok?"
Phineas appeared to be nodding off as his chin rested on the soft feathers of the toy. Candace nudged his shoulders and glared, jolting him from his dozing.
"Phineas, you have to stay awake! We're gonna go find daddy, so you can't go back to sleep. Here, take my hand."
With an obedient nod, Phineas allowed his sister to pull him to his feet and lead him out of the bedroom, doing his best to be silent as he tip-toed after her down the dark hall way. He nearly yelped when the sound of a large thud vibrated off the walls, but was soothed by Candace's insistence that it was only the wind, nothing more.
They had almost completed their mission in complete stealth until they made their way into the living room, where a large, brown dog promptly began to bark in excitement of seeing his owners awake.
"Bucky, quiet!" Candace ordered with a fevered whisper, trying in vain to hold the animals muzzle together to prevent his noise, "No barking! Quiet! Phineas, not now!"
"But look!" Phineas continued to tug on Candace's shirt until she finally glanced his way, only to find that he was pointing towards the dogs' leash which hung on a hook by the door.
"Oh!" The girl blinked with realization and ran towards the leash, cajoling the dog to follow her as she tugged it off of its hook, "Goood Bucky, niiice doggy. Wanna go for a walk? Yeah, there we go, be niiice and quiet and you can go with us, ok? Good doggy!"
Per his masters' command, Bucky sat quiet and still as the young girl hooked his leash to him, only to start bouncing in excitement once more as he stood eagerly next to the door.
"Ok, ok! Come on Phineas, lets go!" With her brother held securely in one hand and Bucky's leash in the other, Candace made her way out the doorway and into the dimly lit night, her long red hair flaring against the strong wind. For a moment, Candace paused with a sudden realization; she had no idea where to start looking for her father. She hesitated on the doorstep until Bucky began to pull her towards to the side walk, dragging her and her brother along as he sniffed at the ground.
'Well,' Candace thought as she gripped the leash in her hand tighter, 'Dogs are good finders. Maybe he can find Daddy, like the dogs on TV do.'
She swallowed a nervous tingling in her throat, and called out to her faithful pet, her tiny voice barely carrying over the wind, "Go find Daddy, Bucky! Good boy! Go find him!"
Bucky jerked then, causing Candace and her brother to stumble as he picked up the pace, scrambling after the scent of a cat. As the two children made their way further and further from their home, their mother slept on, blissfully unaware of any passing events. She would continue this way until well past midnight, when the sound of thunder shuddering the house would wake her.
Linda would, as usual, groggily slip out of bed, and shuffle her way down the hall into Phineas's room, where she expected to find him curled into a frightened little ball. When she would find his bed empty, she wouldn't panic, but rather would curiously tip toe over to her daughters room instead, expecting to find the two tucked into bed together.
When Linda would find that this room, too, was empty, she would begin to worry. When she checked the house and found no sign of the children, she would begin to dread the worse; at that point she would cry over the phone to the local police and to a tired, but equally concerned Lawrence. She would give her report to the officers as best she could, and provide them with the most accurate pictures she could find, and would grip Lawrence's hand until his fingers turned white.
It'd be a long time before anyone noticed that the family dog was missing as well; the police would think little of it, and would advise the couple to remain home and wait for any possible ransom messages. To tell a distressed parent to wait, however, is as good as trying to tell the sun not to rise. Linda and Lawrence would set out on their own rescue mission as soon as the officers were out of sight, eventually splitting up to cover more ground. They would yell the children's names until their voices became raw, and try desperately to push out the dark possibilities that entered their thoughts.
For now, though, Linda slept, and somewhere down the street Bucky barked at a passing squirrel. Phineas kept himself concerned with attempting not to let Ducky Momo touch the ground, least he get dirty, and Candace looked up at the moon, trying to think of what she would say when she finally found her father again. She didn't pay any mind to the clouds that were gathering overhead, and after a few moments decided exactly the words she would say when she saw her thick bearded, red haired father once more.
Daddy, come home.