The Real Truth?
A Codename: Kids Next Door Fanfic
By 8-Bit Star
The Kids Next Door and anything related to them is more than likely owned
by either Tom Warburton
or Cartoon Network, I forget which. In any case, no rights given or
implied.
It was odd for Nigel, of all people, to be gone. He usually told them when he was going to be away, but he had rarely ever been gone simply without explanation. Abigail paced back and forth in worry.
"Where could he be?" She asked herself.
"Maybe he went to the candy store," Kuki suggested.
"Naw. He'd 'o told us that. 'Sides, he'd be here by now."
"Don't worry," said Wally, "If I know Numbuh One, he's probably on his way here right--"
At that moment, the door busted open, and there was a rare sight indeed: Nigel, of all people, seemed pretty rugged, like he had been put through forty-eight hours of everything in only five minutes. Inside the door, he staggered a few steps, and collapsed to the floor.
"NUMBUH ONE!" Abigail yelled, and everyone rushed to his aide. Hoagie and Abby hoisted him on their shoulders, and Hoagie asked "What's going on Numbuh One?"
"Oh... it's terrible, guys. It was my parents... then they called these guys and they tied me up and drove me to--"
"Whoa, slow down." Hoagie said as he and Abby put him on the sofa. "Now... take your time. Go slooooooowly."
Nigel took a breath. Then two, then three, as everyone else waited patiently. They all thought they saw what looked like water coming down his cheeks, but didn't press him. This was clearly something serious, and he needed his own time.
Finally, with a loud sigh, he began. "I found another adult torture facility."
It was earlier today, I was at my home. You'll remember it was one of the few special occasions in which I actually go home. My dad was downstairs, talking on the phone. I didn't listen in, I just said "Morning, dad," and went to get breakfast.
He stopped me, and abruptly ended his phone conversation, simply telling them into the phone to "Come by soon." Then he quickly pulled me onto the sofa. Now, he usually doesn't just yank me like he did today, so I figured something was wrong. And I asked him about it.
And he said "Son, some people are coming by today..."
And I asked him "Relatives?" not bothering to hide my disgust.
And he answered "No. These are people you've never met."
"Oh. Business associates or something, I imagine."
He was silent, considering his next words. Then he said "Well, not quite, but when they get here, I want you to be on your absolute best behavior." This wasn't unusual, but the way he emphasised it sort of concerned me. Nevertheless, I ignored it, and said "All right, fine. You won't even know I'm here." I jumped off the couch and went to get some cereal.
But dad added "I don't think you understand. It's... something about you."
That stopped me in my tracks. And I began to think, why would some stranger come calling about me? The only thing I could think of was that it must be a social worker whose concerned about my absences from school, because you know being operatives in the Kids Next Door keeps us all too busy for schoolwork. So I shrugged my shoulders and thought we'd deal with it the same way we dealt with Numbuh Three's last week. So I walked off and ate my cereal and thought no more of it.
Just after I got done with my cereal, however, there was a ring of the doorbell. My dad called me, and I went to see who these people were. That's when the trouble began.
They were two men in white outfits, like doctors. And when I looked down and saw a white coat they were holding in their hands, that's when I got worried.
"A white coat? Sounds like your dad called a tailor or something." Wallabee said.
Nigel gave him a strict look, and very annoyed, stated "It was a white coat... with very long sleeves."
"Numbuh Five sees where this is goin'," Numbuh Five said.
I turned to my dad, and demanded "What's the meaning of this?"
Dad knelt down, and said to me "I'm sorry I have to do this." Then stood, and gave them a signal. Then they came after me. But I dodged and went back up the stairs, and yelled "What's this all about? I'm not crazy!"
My only response was one of the orderlies telling me to come quietly, and something about making it easier on myself. But I didn't stop to listen, instead I ran up the stairs to my room, where I pushed every available piece of furniture I could in front of the door. I heard them running and yelling demands, so I thought, and got the excellent idea to climb out the window. There was a drainpipe right outside, so it was easy to do. I climbed as quickly yet as silently as I could, and reached the ground. My first impulse was to attempt to jump a fence into a neighbor's yard, and I almost did, but I was stopped short by Butch, the neighbor's bulldog. He's a mean puppy, and I didn't want to tempt his teeth any more than I wanted to be dragged off to a mental ward.
There was no more time to waste. I could jump the other fences, but I might run into similar problems, and there was no more time to make mistakes. Suddenly, I heard someone coming, and a voice saying "He's got his door boarded up, I'll climb up through the window." I turned, and saw my dad coming. Already I knew this mistake was my last. It was either the dog, or the shrink. I chose the dog.
The blasted canine jumped on me like an animal possessed, but after an initial disorientation and many bruises, my superior fighting technique prevailed, but my dad was not oblivious to the ruckus, and just as the dog ran away crying I saw him and an orderly also jump the fence, at which point I started running for the sidewalk. I kept on running, never looking back to see if my dad was gaining on me.
But the orderlies weren't stupid. While my dad was chasing me, the second orderly had gotten their van, and even at a slow twenty miles per hour that thing is still faster than a normal ten-year-old boy. He drove up in front of me, quickly getting out on the passenger's side. When he pulled this manuever on me, it was so sudden that I didn't have time to compensate, and he very nearly caught me, but I slipped out of his grasp and tried to jump another fence, only this time, he grabbed me before I could make it.
By that time, my dad and the other man had gotten there, and there was nothing I could do.
Kuki gasped. Hoagie went "Whoa... So, they took you to... to a..." He stuttered in fear, "One of those... Psychiatrists?"
Nigel nodded. "Allow me to continue without interruptions, please."
"Sorry."
It was the most horrible thing in my life. I was tied in a straightjacket, I was sweating, I couldn't even reach to scratch an itch. You can't even imagine what it's like. I complained to the one orderly who had been assigned to sit with me in the back, but he didn't do or say anything. He wouldn't even tell me what this was all about. So I wasted the time thinking, wondering who could be behind this insidious plot, when suddenly we arrived.
After they checked me in, I was held there for another ten minutes in waiting, then taken for my first meeting with the person assigned to be my psychiatrist. I was shoved into an easy rest chair in the room, still struggling, but the voice of my doctor was so unexpectedly soft that it staggered me. He told the orderlies to untie me, then leave. Me he just told to lay down. Getting out his pad and pencil, he told me "Greetings, Nathaniel Uno. My name is Dr. Ilyktu Stressum."
"'I like to stress 'em'? Are you serious?" Abigail questioned.
"Yes! and once again please, no more interruptions!"
The power in his voice convinced her, and she obediently shut up.
Anyway, he then said to me "Mr. Uno, we have heard many... startling reports about you."
I said nothing. I wanted to see where he was going with this.
"You've barely been to school since you enrolled."
I still said nothing.
"You've displayed... destructive tendencies towards others..."
I still said nothing.
"... and yourself."
This time I asked "What do you mean? And furthermore, I fail to see how any of this justifies bringing me here against my will."
And he said "We came by today because we got a phone call from your father. He's very worried about you, young man." I immediately knew that these people must've been who my father was calling on the telephone earlier. He continued, "According to him... you are often away from home."
I resumed my silent act. He continued to speak. "You don't even come back to sleep at night. Tell me, Nathaniel--"
"I prefer Nigel," I interrupted him.
"--Nigel, where do you go at night? Do you have... friends that you stay with?"
"You could say that." I was certainly not going to give him particulars, not yet.
He stopped to consider for a minute, then asked "Nigel, are you on any drugs or medication, legal or otherwise?"
"No."
"Are any of your friends?"
"Doing drugs? Not as far as I'm aware."
He paused for a moment, then said "That's all right. Your dad says that he often hears you playing in a certain treehouse. Is this where you spend your nights?"
I found no use in denying it, so I simply answered "Yes."
"Why?"
"Pardon?"
"Allow me to be more direct: Does this place hold some special meaning for you?"
"In a sense, yes."
"Do your friends come to this particular treehouse, as well?"
I didn't answer that question. At this point, I was convinced that he was trying to worm information out of me. I had the game plan figured out: I had been captured by the enemy, and now they were going to trick me into giving them all the secrets of the Kids Next Door, and resolved that I would be the last person to tell them anything they wanted to know.
If anything, his next question proved my suspicions to be correct. He asked "What are the names of your friends?"
I thought on this, and said "I could tell you, but only if you garuntee you won't have them brought here as well."
"I can offer no such garuntee."
"Then I can't answer your question."
"Very well, then." He thought for a moment, and the room went silent. Finally, he broke the silence and said "We're running short on time, so I only have one last thing to say. About a month ago, you were reported as having hijacked an Ice Cream truck, which you proceeded to drive through the house of your neighbors, the Delightfuls. You then proceeded to attack Mr. Delightful with a barrage of ice cream, literally covering him in it. Are you aware that the man nearly died of hypothermia?"
"No, I wasn't."
"Do you have any further comments?"
In fact, I did. "Whatever files you have on me are sorely lacking in information."
"Yes, I'm quite aware of that."
That was all he said, then he called the orderlies back in, and I was once again tied up in a straightjacket, and hauled off to a cell. There I sat for an hour, thinking it must be those blasted Delightful Children From Down the Lane in yet another of their demented schemes! But what could I do? My best hope was that you guys would somehow find out about this and rescue me.
And that's not exactly what happened.
At this, Nigel grew silent. Kuki grabbed his hand, attempting to be reassuring, but the moment she touched it, she immediately let go and ooed as if she had just grabbed a burning rod of iron, for his anger caused his body to be tense like a mad dog about to strike.
"uhhh.... Numbuh One?" Hoagie asked. "You're scaring us."
There was no answer, and nothing happened for at least ten seconds. Then, Nigel said "Numbuh Four, get Numbuh Five a pencil and paper."
"... Right." Numbuh Four went off and did so. He came back and handed the requisite tools to her.
Then Nigel ordered "Numbuh Five, I want you to write your name--your real name--three times."
"All right," she shrugged, and did so. "Done."
"Hand me the paper." She did so. Numbuh One took another piece of paper out of his pocket, and seemed to compare the two, and finally said "Just as I thought... we have a traitor in our midsts." and then suddenly commanded "Grab her!"
"Excuse me?" Hoagie asked.
"That's an order, Numbuh Two!"
"All right all right!" He grabbed her left arm, Wallabee grabbed her right, and he said "I still don't understand this."
"Oh, you will. You see, an hour or so after I had been hauled out of the office, I was hauled right back in again for more questioning."
He started off directly. "We just recieved a letter from a friend of yours, one Abigail Lincoln," the emphasis is mine. When I heard that name, I thought for sure I was about to be rescued, and anticipated that it was probably some sort of secret code message that I would understand, but he wouldn't. That was not it. Instead he turned and said "I think you ought to read the letter for yourself." I did so. And I will read it again right now. Listen up.
Dear Sir or Madam,
Please do not be too hard on Nathaniel (Nigel) Uno. I understand that
he may be a little uncooperative with you. He's basically a nice kid, but ever since
his birthday two years ago, he's had a few screws loose. He does not easily trust
others who are older than himself, and is in a constant state of agitation. If it helps
to understand his condition, he's got this deluded belief that he is the leader of the
Kids Next Door, some sort of world-wide organization of kids who fight "evil" adults.
He believes that a treehouse in his front yard is actually their "Base of Operations."
Most of his "destructive behavior" is actually him believing he is on a "mission" with
these kids, whom he always calls by a code number--Number One being himself, then
there's a Number Two, Three, Four, and he sometimes calls me "Number Five." I once
called and asked him what the real names of the other kids were. He wouldn't tell me
over the phone, because he thought the line would be tapped, but I managed to talk
him into giving me the following names: Hoagie P. Gilligan Jr., Kuki Sanban, and
Wallabee Beatles. Now, I'll save you the trouble of research by telling you this:
yes, these are the names of real people, but anything else Nigel may have come up
with is purely his imagining. Hoagie was an athletic kid who was killed in a car wreck
just before Nigel's birthday (before his screws came loose). Kuki was a girl he had a
crush on that moved to Arizona about six months afterwards. Wallabee Beatles was
a school bully who got sent to Juvey for trying to break a teacher's neck. Last thing,
any time his attacks on the Delightfuls are brought up, he keeps repeating this story
about how there are these children there who are always making plans to kill him or
something. Anyway, I hope all this information goes some way towards getting those
screws back in his head.
Signed,
Abigail Lincoln
"I believe that says it more than adequately," Nigel concluded. "Following this, the doctor proceeded to say that it all made sense now. But I was angry. I tried to escape. I fought with security, until suddenly..."
... Dr. Stressum shouted "Sit down!" There was such a command in his voice that I couldn't disobey, so I walked quietly over to the patient's chair and sat back down. "Now, Nigel Uno, I have one last question for you. Earlier, you said my files on you were sorely lacking in information. Tell me, what information are they lacking?"
I smirked, and said something I thought would be harmless, since our enemies probably already knew this one no matter how dumb they were play-acting: "Well, for example, you mentioned me 'hijacking' an ice cream truck and driving it into the delightful's house. Well, that's half-true. The entire truth is that, some time before that happened, our arch-enemies, the Delightful Children From Down the Lane (whom this letter refers to) had attacked us with a giant machine, and then used a device on me which..." I shuddered, which he observed, "...which turned me into a full-fledged adult. It was horrible. I had to quit the Kids Next Door, because you have to leave the organization when you turn thirteen, and I started living life as an adult. My life, my entire personality, began to take drastic changes, which my friends noticed. My dear Abigail herself told me something profound: 'it's not your age that's changed, it's you.' At first I thought nothing of it, but they nagged in my mind, and I knew she was right. So I fought my adult beliefs, and came to the aid of my companions whom I had found out through the grapevine had launched an assault on the Delightful Children in an attempt to retrieve the device which could be used to turn me into a kid again. Despite the help of their father, some sort of demon who could control fire, we were successful in retrieving and destroying the device--after making me a kid again, that is. Your file would make it out to be that I just went on a destructive rampage for no reason, which is not the case at all. Also, I did not hijack that truck. I was actually employed by that particular company for two weeks before I crashed that vehicle, and I'm sure there's some records or something that you could check to verify that."
"That won't be necessary." He said. I was surprised, and he explained, "I've done some checking to verify your friend's letter. I'll have you know that Miss Abigail is more or less factually accurate. Here." He handed me some printed files. The first was for Kuki Sanban. Her current place of residence did, in fact, read Phoenix, Arizona. The next file was for Wallabee Beatles, which did mention that he was currently serving time in Juvenile Hall. The last one was for Hoagie P. Gilligan Jr., and included a certificate of death dated a week before my eighth birthday.
"And now, I've arrived at a diagnosis," he said. "Look at the facts. According to your own fantasy, you grew older, which made you into someone you did not like. You imagine all adults in the world as being forces of evil who exist to torment you. Your imaginary companions are all based on people you once knew. The only reasonable diagnosis is that you, Nigel Uno, are a young man who suffers from a complete and total fear of change. As a response to this, your subconscious mind has created a perfect fantasy world where life is full of fun and adventure, you have everything you could ever want, and you never had to grow up, and then your subconscious projected this ideal Neverland onto your conscious, making you percieve it as reality. It is not the reality, Nigel, it is your imagination, and the sooner you realize this--"
"--I have had enough of your nonsense!" I shouted at him. "They're real. They're all real, and I don't know what your game is by saying they don't exist, but whatever it is it won't work!" I was furious, and a bit agitated. While a part of me wanted to kill this man, mostly I was more concerned about Abigail's letter. I was angry at her betrayal, but at the same time there was a seed of doubt in my mind as I realized the letter could be a forgery, an attempt to turn the Kids Next Door against each other, which is why I had you do the handwriting test just now.
Nigel had simmered down, having informed everyone else of this part of the story. "It took me a bit of thought, but I think I understand your plan now, traitor. You intended to get me locked up and placed in a mental ward so that you yourself could take over control of my branch of the Kids Next Door. It's sad when a thirst for power corrupts an otherwise bright mind like yours. I'm sorry Numbuh Five, but you must be dealt with."
"Oh give me a break!" she exclaimed. Nigel gasped in shock as she walked right through the arms of Wally and Hoagie, right in front of him, and slugged him hard in the cheek. He fell to the floor, at which point she grabbed his sunglasses right off his head.
"Owwww.... Numbuh Five, how did you do that?"
"There is no Numbuh Five!" she said.
"What? That can't be, because you are Numbuh Five. There's only so many times you can refer to yourself in third person by that name before we get it."
"Nuh-uh. I do that because I'm trying to dis-associate myself from that name, and make you realize that Numbuh Five is a fictional character!"
Nigel blinked, not quite understanding.
"You crazy, Nigel! You been crazy for two years! And you know what's happened because of it? No? Well, I'll tell ya: Your parents, who used to be well off, were nearly driven into poverty because of you. Imagine two years of having to pay a bunch of fines of a thousand dollars or more, not to mention lawsuits, because of all the property damage you caused. And that ain't all, mister. Your dad lost two jobs because of you, your relatives stopped coming over because they couldn't stand you, and your friends wouldn't even look you in the eye anymore! Heck, the reason Kuki moved away is because of your 'Kids Next Door' fantasies. You scared her, always buying her sweaters with sleeves too long, and them dadgum Rainbow Monkeys! She hated Rainbow Monkeys! Nigel honey, for about half a year now," she knelt down beside him and grabbed his hand, "I've been the only friend you got."
"But..." He was still trying to comprehend most of this, "But then... why did you send that letter?"
"Because obviously you needed a firm kick in the rear, hun, and I thought that and the psychiatrists would be it. I didn't think you'd flip out and somehow invent a way to work this into some paranoid spy fantasy..." Nigel saw an honest tear coming from her eye, "But I guess I shoulda known. You so stuck in that fantasy, that you're totally blind to reality." she hugged him, crying, "I feel so sorry for you now, Nigel-honey. They gonna lock you up and throw away the key."
"But..." a tear of doubt entered Nigel's eye. "But that can't be right! Kuki exists, she's right there! On the sofa! And Wallabee and Hoagie were just capturing you..."
"Look around, hon. Do you see a Kuki or a Hoagie anywhere?"
Nigel looked. "Yes. On the sofa, and standing right where they were... right as they were..." It then occured to Nigel that none of his other three teammates had moved or even reacted to anything in the last five minutes. He looked down at Abigail... the only person so far who had even moved, besides himself. "Then... you're right. They're fake... the Kids Next Door never existed... I'm not even sure I exist."
"Please, don't start goin' zen now." Abigail said between tears.
There was silence, besides Abby's sobs of sympathy. Finally, he broke the silence. "So, I've been stuck in a fantasy world for two years... what about the Delightful Children?" He asked.
"Dude," she looked up at him, "the Delightfuls never had any children!"
Somehow, he expected this answer, and reacted with an unsurprised "Oh." After a moment of silence, he looked around again. This time, there was no Kuki, no Wallabee, no Hoagie, no fancy equipment or large metal doors. He was suddenly in a small, rectangular-shaped treehouse, which contained nothing but an old sofa, a dusty table, and an antique television, and he wasn't sure if the last one even worked.
"Let's move to the sofa," he suggested.
She nodded, and they did.
Nigel stayed in thought for awhile. "Abigail... stop crying. There is no Numbuh One anymore."
Her tears didn't stop, but they did slow down. "And... no Numbuh Five?"
"No Numbuh anything."
She fully stopped crying, but still had breath sobs in her throat. "That's the best news I've heard all day." But her smile flipped upside-down when she said "But it's too late now."
"Maybe... but if I've done as much damage as you say I have, then I deserve to be locked up. "Baby, don't say that!"
"You know it's true." Silence. Thought. "You know... I think I actually remember Hoagie's accident. Yes... I visited him in the hospital just before he died. We talked about airplanes."
"Baby..."
"And... Kuki... I can't remember how heartbroken I was when I realized she had left. It reminds me of that song, The Glory of Love... I forgot who wrote it. Was on a movie, wasn't it?"
"Yea... Karate Kid Part II I think. Is that the one that goes something like I am the man who will fight for your honor, I am the hero you've been dreamin' of?"
"I don't wanna lose you, I could never leave you alone... yea, that's the song." More silence. Abigail started actually humming the song in question.
"So, Abigail... remind me, what were the real Kuki and the real Wallabee like?"
And now the sun sets, and late afternoon turns into evening, as two friends overcome the boundaries of imagination and are reunited in joy and tragedy. Perhaps they will continue to have adventures, though no longer as members of The Kids Next Door. For better or worse, they are now and forever... themselves.
Afterword
*Sigh* well, on Wednesday June 18th 2003, I could have put the finishing touches on a then-upcoming Kids Next Door page, but I took time out to write this instead. It took me about four hours to finish. Frankly, I'm wondering how the Rescue Rangers fans will react to knowing I actually can write depressing fanfics. In fact, I was actually going to do a version of the above story for Rescue Rangers, but decided against it since the Rescue Rangers version was already shaping up to be an inferior version anyway.
Anyway, I've got some things to say to anyone who was affected by this fanfic: First, remember that my KND fics, unlike my RR fanfics, presume that my other fanfics never happened (unless a fanfic specifically says otherwise). So don't worry about it affecting my other fanfics, because it won't, accept for any sequels I might write.
And the second thing... If there's enough demand for it, I just might be tempted to add an alternate ending to this story.
A Codename: Kids Next Door Fanfic
By 8-Bit Star
The Kids Next Door and anything related to them is more than likely owned
by either Tom Warburton
or Cartoon Network, I forget which. In any case, no rights given or
implied.
It was odd for Nigel, of all people, to be gone. He usually told them when he was going to be away, but he had rarely ever been gone simply without explanation. Abigail paced back and forth in worry.
"Where could he be?" She asked herself.
"Maybe he went to the candy store," Kuki suggested.
"Naw. He'd 'o told us that. 'Sides, he'd be here by now."
"Don't worry," said Wally, "If I know Numbuh One, he's probably on his way here right--"
At that moment, the door busted open, and there was a rare sight indeed: Nigel, of all people, seemed pretty rugged, like he had been put through forty-eight hours of everything in only five minutes. Inside the door, he staggered a few steps, and collapsed to the floor.
"NUMBUH ONE!" Abigail yelled, and everyone rushed to his aide. Hoagie and Abby hoisted him on their shoulders, and Hoagie asked "What's going on Numbuh One?"
"Oh... it's terrible, guys. It was my parents... then they called these guys and they tied me up and drove me to--"
"Whoa, slow down." Hoagie said as he and Abby put him on the sofa. "Now... take your time. Go slooooooowly."
Nigel took a breath. Then two, then three, as everyone else waited patiently. They all thought they saw what looked like water coming down his cheeks, but didn't press him. This was clearly something serious, and he needed his own time.
Finally, with a loud sigh, he began. "I found another adult torture facility."
It was earlier today, I was at my home. You'll remember it was one of the few special occasions in which I actually go home. My dad was downstairs, talking on the phone. I didn't listen in, I just said "Morning, dad," and went to get breakfast.
He stopped me, and abruptly ended his phone conversation, simply telling them into the phone to "Come by soon." Then he quickly pulled me onto the sofa. Now, he usually doesn't just yank me like he did today, so I figured something was wrong. And I asked him about it.
And he said "Son, some people are coming by today..."
And I asked him "Relatives?" not bothering to hide my disgust.
And he answered "No. These are people you've never met."
"Oh. Business associates or something, I imagine."
He was silent, considering his next words. Then he said "Well, not quite, but when they get here, I want you to be on your absolute best behavior." This wasn't unusual, but the way he emphasised it sort of concerned me. Nevertheless, I ignored it, and said "All right, fine. You won't even know I'm here." I jumped off the couch and went to get some cereal.
But dad added "I don't think you understand. It's... something about you."
That stopped me in my tracks. And I began to think, why would some stranger come calling about me? The only thing I could think of was that it must be a social worker whose concerned about my absences from school, because you know being operatives in the Kids Next Door keeps us all too busy for schoolwork. So I shrugged my shoulders and thought we'd deal with it the same way we dealt with Numbuh Three's last week. So I walked off and ate my cereal and thought no more of it.
Just after I got done with my cereal, however, there was a ring of the doorbell. My dad called me, and I went to see who these people were. That's when the trouble began.
They were two men in white outfits, like doctors. And when I looked down and saw a white coat they were holding in their hands, that's when I got worried.
"A white coat? Sounds like your dad called a tailor or something." Wallabee said.
Nigel gave him a strict look, and very annoyed, stated "It was a white coat... with very long sleeves."
"Numbuh Five sees where this is goin'," Numbuh Five said.
I turned to my dad, and demanded "What's the meaning of this?"
Dad knelt down, and said to me "I'm sorry I have to do this." Then stood, and gave them a signal. Then they came after me. But I dodged and went back up the stairs, and yelled "What's this all about? I'm not crazy!"
My only response was one of the orderlies telling me to come quietly, and something about making it easier on myself. But I didn't stop to listen, instead I ran up the stairs to my room, where I pushed every available piece of furniture I could in front of the door. I heard them running and yelling demands, so I thought, and got the excellent idea to climb out the window. There was a drainpipe right outside, so it was easy to do. I climbed as quickly yet as silently as I could, and reached the ground. My first impulse was to attempt to jump a fence into a neighbor's yard, and I almost did, but I was stopped short by Butch, the neighbor's bulldog. He's a mean puppy, and I didn't want to tempt his teeth any more than I wanted to be dragged off to a mental ward.
There was no more time to waste. I could jump the other fences, but I might run into similar problems, and there was no more time to make mistakes. Suddenly, I heard someone coming, and a voice saying "He's got his door boarded up, I'll climb up through the window." I turned, and saw my dad coming. Already I knew this mistake was my last. It was either the dog, or the shrink. I chose the dog.
The blasted canine jumped on me like an animal possessed, but after an initial disorientation and many bruises, my superior fighting technique prevailed, but my dad was not oblivious to the ruckus, and just as the dog ran away crying I saw him and an orderly also jump the fence, at which point I started running for the sidewalk. I kept on running, never looking back to see if my dad was gaining on me.
But the orderlies weren't stupid. While my dad was chasing me, the second orderly had gotten their van, and even at a slow twenty miles per hour that thing is still faster than a normal ten-year-old boy. He drove up in front of me, quickly getting out on the passenger's side. When he pulled this manuever on me, it was so sudden that I didn't have time to compensate, and he very nearly caught me, but I slipped out of his grasp and tried to jump another fence, only this time, he grabbed me before I could make it.
By that time, my dad and the other man had gotten there, and there was nothing I could do.
Kuki gasped. Hoagie went "Whoa... So, they took you to... to a..." He stuttered in fear, "One of those... Psychiatrists?"
Nigel nodded. "Allow me to continue without interruptions, please."
"Sorry."
It was the most horrible thing in my life. I was tied in a straightjacket, I was sweating, I couldn't even reach to scratch an itch. You can't even imagine what it's like. I complained to the one orderly who had been assigned to sit with me in the back, but he didn't do or say anything. He wouldn't even tell me what this was all about. So I wasted the time thinking, wondering who could be behind this insidious plot, when suddenly we arrived.
After they checked me in, I was held there for another ten minutes in waiting, then taken for my first meeting with the person assigned to be my psychiatrist. I was shoved into an easy rest chair in the room, still struggling, but the voice of my doctor was so unexpectedly soft that it staggered me. He told the orderlies to untie me, then leave. Me he just told to lay down. Getting out his pad and pencil, he told me "Greetings, Nathaniel Uno. My name is Dr. Ilyktu Stressum."
"'I like to stress 'em'? Are you serious?" Abigail questioned.
"Yes! and once again please, no more interruptions!"
The power in his voice convinced her, and she obediently shut up.
Anyway, he then said to me "Mr. Uno, we have heard many... startling reports about you."
I said nothing. I wanted to see where he was going with this.
"You've barely been to school since you enrolled."
I still said nothing.
"You've displayed... destructive tendencies towards others..."
I still said nothing.
"... and yourself."
This time I asked "What do you mean? And furthermore, I fail to see how any of this justifies bringing me here against my will."
And he said "We came by today because we got a phone call from your father. He's very worried about you, young man." I immediately knew that these people must've been who my father was calling on the telephone earlier. He continued, "According to him... you are often away from home."
I resumed my silent act. He continued to speak. "You don't even come back to sleep at night. Tell me, Nathaniel--"
"I prefer Nigel," I interrupted him.
"--Nigel, where do you go at night? Do you have... friends that you stay with?"
"You could say that." I was certainly not going to give him particulars, not yet.
He stopped to consider for a minute, then asked "Nigel, are you on any drugs or medication, legal or otherwise?"
"No."
"Are any of your friends?"
"Doing drugs? Not as far as I'm aware."
He paused for a moment, then said "That's all right. Your dad says that he often hears you playing in a certain treehouse. Is this where you spend your nights?"
I found no use in denying it, so I simply answered "Yes."
"Why?"
"Pardon?"
"Allow me to be more direct: Does this place hold some special meaning for you?"
"In a sense, yes."
"Do your friends come to this particular treehouse, as well?"
I didn't answer that question. At this point, I was convinced that he was trying to worm information out of me. I had the game plan figured out: I had been captured by the enemy, and now they were going to trick me into giving them all the secrets of the Kids Next Door, and resolved that I would be the last person to tell them anything they wanted to know.
If anything, his next question proved my suspicions to be correct. He asked "What are the names of your friends?"
I thought on this, and said "I could tell you, but only if you garuntee you won't have them brought here as well."
"I can offer no such garuntee."
"Then I can't answer your question."
"Very well, then." He thought for a moment, and the room went silent. Finally, he broke the silence and said "We're running short on time, so I only have one last thing to say. About a month ago, you were reported as having hijacked an Ice Cream truck, which you proceeded to drive through the house of your neighbors, the Delightfuls. You then proceeded to attack Mr. Delightful with a barrage of ice cream, literally covering him in it. Are you aware that the man nearly died of hypothermia?"
"No, I wasn't."
"Do you have any further comments?"
In fact, I did. "Whatever files you have on me are sorely lacking in information."
"Yes, I'm quite aware of that."
That was all he said, then he called the orderlies back in, and I was once again tied up in a straightjacket, and hauled off to a cell. There I sat for an hour, thinking it must be those blasted Delightful Children From Down the Lane in yet another of their demented schemes! But what could I do? My best hope was that you guys would somehow find out about this and rescue me.
And that's not exactly what happened.
At this, Nigel grew silent. Kuki grabbed his hand, attempting to be reassuring, but the moment she touched it, she immediately let go and ooed as if she had just grabbed a burning rod of iron, for his anger caused his body to be tense like a mad dog about to strike.
"uhhh.... Numbuh One?" Hoagie asked. "You're scaring us."
There was no answer, and nothing happened for at least ten seconds. Then, Nigel said "Numbuh Four, get Numbuh Five a pencil and paper."
"... Right." Numbuh Four went off and did so. He came back and handed the requisite tools to her.
Then Nigel ordered "Numbuh Five, I want you to write your name--your real name--three times."
"All right," she shrugged, and did so. "Done."
"Hand me the paper." She did so. Numbuh One took another piece of paper out of his pocket, and seemed to compare the two, and finally said "Just as I thought... we have a traitor in our midsts." and then suddenly commanded "Grab her!"
"Excuse me?" Hoagie asked.
"That's an order, Numbuh Two!"
"All right all right!" He grabbed her left arm, Wallabee grabbed her right, and he said "I still don't understand this."
"Oh, you will. You see, an hour or so after I had been hauled out of the office, I was hauled right back in again for more questioning."
He started off directly. "We just recieved a letter from a friend of yours, one Abigail Lincoln," the emphasis is mine. When I heard that name, I thought for sure I was about to be rescued, and anticipated that it was probably some sort of secret code message that I would understand, but he wouldn't. That was not it. Instead he turned and said "I think you ought to read the letter for yourself." I did so. And I will read it again right now. Listen up.
Dear Sir or Madam,
Please do not be too hard on Nathaniel (Nigel) Uno. I understand that
he may be a little uncooperative with you. He's basically a nice kid, but ever since
his birthday two years ago, he's had a few screws loose. He does not easily trust
others who are older than himself, and is in a constant state of agitation. If it helps
to understand his condition, he's got this deluded belief that he is the leader of the
Kids Next Door, some sort of world-wide organization of kids who fight "evil" adults.
He believes that a treehouse in his front yard is actually their "Base of Operations."
Most of his "destructive behavior" is actually him believing he is on a "mission" with
these kids, whom he always calls by a code number--Number One being himself, then
there's a Number Two, Three, Four, and he sometimes calls me "Number Five." I once
called and asked him what the real names of the other kids were. He wouldn't tell me
over the phone, because he thought the line would be tapped, but I managed to talk
him into giving me the following names: Hoagie P. Gilligan Jr., Kuki Sanban, and
Wallabee Beatles. Now, I'll save you the trouble of research by telling you this:
yes, these are the names of real people, but anything else Nigel may have come up
with is purely his imagining. Hoagie was an athletic kid who was killed in a car wreck
just before Nigel's birthday (before his screws came loose). Kuki was a girl he had a
crush on that moved to Arizona about six months afterwards. Wallabee Beatles was
a school bully who got sent to Juvey for trying to break a teacher's neck. Last thing,
any time his attacks on the Delightfuls are brought up, he keeps repeating this story
about how there are these children there who are always making plans to kill him or
something. Anyway, I hope all this information goes some way towards getting those
screws back in his head.
Signed,
Abigail Lincoln
"I believe that says it more than adequately," Nigel concluded. "Following this, the doctor proceeded to say that it all made sense now. But I was angry. I tried to escape. I fought with security, until suddenly..."
... Dr. Stressum shouted "Sit down!" There was such a command in his voice that I couldn't disobey, so I walked quietly over to the patient's chair and sat back down. "Now, Nigel Uno, I have one last question for you. Earlier, you said my files on you were sorely lacking in information. Tell me, what information are they lacking?"
I smirked, and said something I thought would be harmless, since our enemies probably already knew this one no matter how dumb they were play-acting: "Well, for example, you mentioned me 'hijacking' an ice cream truck and driving it into the delightful's house. Well, that's half-true. The entire truth is that, some time before that happened, our arch-enemies, the Delightful Children From Down the Lane (whom this letter refers to) had attacked us with a giant machine, and then used a device on me which..." I shuddered, which he observed, "...which turned me into a full-fledged adult. It was horrible. I had to quit the Kids Next Door, because you have to leave the organization when you turn thirteen, and I started living life as an adult. My life, my entire personality, began to take drastic changes, which my friends noticed. My dear Abigail herself told me something profound: 'it's not your age that's changed, it's you.' At first I thought nothing of it, but they nagged in my mind, and I knew she was right. So I fought my adult beliefs, and came to the aid of my companions whom I had found out through the grapevine had launched an assault on the Delightful Children in an attempt to retrieve the device which could be used to turn me into a kid again. Despite the help of their father, some sort of demon who could control fire, we were successful in retrieving and destroying the device--after making me a kid again, that is. Your file would make it out to be that I just went on a destructive rampage for no reason, which is not the case at all. Also, I did not hijack that truck. I was actually employed by that particular company for two weeks before I crashed that vehicle, and I'm sure there's some records or something that you could check to verify that."
"That won't be necessary." He said. I was surprised, and he explained, "I've done some checking to verify your friend's letter. I'll have you know that Miss Abigail is more or less factually accurate. Here." He handed me some printed files. The first was for Kuki Sanban. Her current place of residence did, in fact, read Phoenix, Arizona. The next file was for Wallabee Beatles, which did mention that he was currently serving time in Juvenile Hall. The last one was for Hoagie P. Gilligan Jr., and included a certificate of death dated a week before my eighth birthday.
"And now, I've arrived at a diagnosis," he said. "Look at the facts. According to your own fantasy, you grew older, which made you into someone you did not like. You imagine all adults in the world as being forces of evil who exist to torment you. Your imaginary companions are all based on people you once knew. The only reasonable diagnosis is that you, Nigel Uno, are a young man who suffers from a complete and total fear of change. As a response to this, your subconscious mind has created a perfect fantasy world where life is full of fun and adventure, you have everything you could ever want, and you never had to grow up, and then your subconscious projected this ideal Neverland onto your conscious, making you percieve it as reality. It is not the reality, Nigel, it is your imagination, and the sooner you realize this--"
"--I have had enough of your nonsense!" I shouted at him. "They're real. They're all real, and I don't know what your game is by saying they don't exist, but whatever it is it won't work!" I was furious, and a bit agitated. While a part of me wanted to kill this man, mostly I was more concerned about Abigail's letter. I was angry at her betrayal, but at the same time there was a seed of doubt in my mind as I realized the letter could be a forgery, an attempt to turn the Kids Next Door against each other, which is why I had you do the handwriting test just now.
Nigel had simmered down, having informed everyone else of this part of the story. "It took me a bit of thought, but I think I understand your plan now, traitor. You intended to get me locked up and placed in a mental ward so that you yourself could take over control of my branch of the Kids Next Door. It's sad when a thirst for power corrupts an otherwise bright mind like yours. I'm sorry Numbuh Five, but you must be dealt with."
"Oh give me a break!" she exclaimed. Nigel gasped in shock as she walked right through the arms of Wally and Hoagie, right in front of him, and slugged him hard in the cheek. He fell to the floor, at which point she grabbed his sunglasses right off his head.
"Owwww.... Numbuh Five, how did you do that?"
"There is no Numbuh Five!" she said.
"What? That can't be, because you are Numbuh Five. There's only so many times you can refer to yourself in third person by that name before we get it."
"Nuh-uh. I do that because I'm trying to dis-associate myself from that name, and make you realize that Numbuh Five is a fictional character!"
Nigel blinked, not quite understanding.
"You crazy, Nigel! You been crazy for two years! And you know what's happened because of it? No? Well, I'll tell ya: Your parents, who used to be well off, were nearly driven into poverty because of you. Imagine two years of having to pay a bunch of fines of a thousand dollars or more, not to mention lawsuits, because of all the property damage you caused. And that ain't all, mister. Your dad lost two jobs because of you, your relatives stopped coming over because they couldn't stand you, and your friends wouldn't even look you in the eye anymore! Heck, the reason Kuki moved away is because of your 'Kids Next Door' fantasies. You scared her, always buying her sweaters with sleeves too long, and them dadgum Rainbow Monkeys! She hated Rainbow Monkeys! Nigel honey, for about half a year now," she knelt down beside him and grabbed his hand, "I've been the only friend you got."
"But..." He was still trying to comprehend most of this, "But then... why did you send that letter?"
"Because obviously you needed a firm kick in the rear, hun, and I thought that and the psychiatrists would be it. I didn't think you'd flip out and somehow invent a way to work this into some paranoid spy fantasy..." Nigel saw an honest tear coming from her eye, "But I guess I shoulda known. You so stuck in that fantasy, that you're totally blind to reality." she hugged him, crying, "I feel so sorry for you now, Nigel-honey. They gonna lock you up and throw away the key."
"But..." a tear of doubt entered Nigel's eye. "But that can't be right! Kuki exists, she's right there! On the sofa! And Wallabee and Hoagie were just capturing you..."
"Look around, hon. Do you see a Kuki or a Hoagie anywhere?"
Nigel looked. "Yes. On the sofa, and standing right where they were... right as they were..." It then occured to Nigel that none of his other three teammates had moved or even reacted to anything in the last five minutes. He looked down at Abigail... the only person so far who had even moved, besides himself. "Then... you're right. They're fake... the Kids Next Door never existed... I'm not even sure I exist."
"Please, don't start goin' zen now." Abigail said between tears.
There was silence, besides Abby's sobs of sympathy. Finally, he broke the silence. "So, I've been stuck in a fantasy world for two years... what about the Delightful Children?" He asked.
"Dude," she looked up at him, "the Delightfuls never had any children!"
Somehow, he expected this answer, and reacted with an unsurprised "Oh." After a moment of silence, he looked around again. This time, there was no Kuki, no Wallabee, no Hoagie, no fancy equipment or large metal doors. He was suddenly in a small, rectangular-shaped treehouse, which contained nothing but an old sofa, a dusty table, and an antique television, and he wasn't sure if the last one even worked.
"Let's move to the sofa," he suggested.
She nodded, and they did.
Nigel stayed in thought for awhile. "Abigail... stop crying. There is no Numbuh One anymore."
Her tears didn't stop, but they did slow down. "And... no Numbuh Five?"
"No Numbuh anything."
She fully stopped crying, but still had breath sobs in her throat. "That's the best news I've heard all day." But her smile flipped upside-down when she said "But it's too late now."
"Maybe... but if I've done as much damage as you say I have, then I deserve to be locked up. "Baby, don't say that!"
"You know it's true." Silence. Thought. "You know... I think I actually remember Hoagie's accident. Yes... I visited him in the hospital just before he died. We talked about airplanes."
"Baby..."
"And... Kuki... I can't remember how heartbroken I was when I realized she had left. It reminds me of that song, The Glory of Love... I forgot who wrote it. Was on a movie, wasn't it?"
"Yea... Karate Kid Part II I think. Is that the one that goes something like I am the man who will fight for your honor, I am the hero you've been dreamin' of?"
"I don't wanna lose you, I could never leave you alone... yea, that's the song." More silence. Abigail started actually humming the song in question.
"So, Abigail... remind me, what were the real Kuki and the real Wallabee like?"
And now the sun sets, and late afternoon turns into evening, as two friends overcome the boundaries of imagination and are reunited in joy and tragedy. Perhaps they will continue to have adventures, though no longer as members of The Kids Next Door. For better or worse, they are now and forever... themselves.
Afterword
*Sigh* well, on Wednesday June 18th 2003, I could have put the finishing touches on a then-upcoming Kids Next Door page, but I took time out to write this instead. It took me about four hours to finish. Frankly, I'm wondering how the Rescue Rangers fans will react to knowing I actually can write depressing fanfics. In fact, I was actually going to do a version of the above story for Rescue Rangers, but decided against it since the Rescue Rangers version was already shaping up to be an inferior version anyway.
Anyway, I've got some things to say to anyone who was affected by this fanfic: First, remember that my KND fics, unlike my RR fanfics, presume that my other fanfics never happened (unless a fanfic specifically says otherwise). So don't worry about it affecting my other fanfics, because it won't, accept for any sequels I might write.
And the second thing... If there's enough demand for it, I just might be tempted to add an alternate ending to this story.