The Wooden Swan Cuckoo Clock

By Schroederplayspiano

Six pm: Like Ships In The Night

Wednesday nights are my favorite nights of the week. For most kids, Friday nights are the nights they look forward to most. Usually, Fridays are when TV is allowed or simply because the night means no more school for the two whole days.

But, I like school, its hard not to when your Grandmother is your teacher. I'd rather spend Friday nights playing games with my family or trying to beat another level on my video game if my mom and her newly awaken parents need some bonding time of their own.

I have been looking forward to tonight since last Thursday when my mother asked me if Pinocchio could join us on our special outing. I like Pinocchio. He was a key member in Operation Cobra before the curse broke and now is just as important in helping its members stay positive when it seems all hope of going to Fairytale Land is lost.

"I still say we should go back." Pinocchio notes for the fourth time since we left the house.

"We are not going back," I tell him. "I am fine and will be fine. Thank you."

"Henry," Mom stops walking, causing Pinocchio and me to do the same. "I think August is right. If you are not cold now, you will be when we go back."

How many times do I have to tell them before they believe me? While on a smaller scale, this moment reminds me of all those times people did not believe me about the curse.

I, Henry, am not cold and will not be cold at the end of the night, no matter where we're going.

"We're almost there." I inform them. There's a bounce in my step and I remember how excited I am. "There's no point in going back now."

My Mom steps in front of me. "Henry." She crosses her arms, disappointed. "How could you forget your coat?"

"It was hot all day. It only got cold five minutes ago."

"Aha!" Pinocchio exclaims with a smile. "So you do admit you're cold!"

I look up at him and see his smile. I can tell he's not going to make me run all the way back home for a coat.

Plus it's not that cold out. Honest.

We turn the corner. I see our destination in sight. Its lit-up sign welcomes me in.

I elbow Pinocchio in the ribs. "Race ya?"

He looks down at me, determination on his face. "You're on!"

"On Three..." I tell him. We both put our feet on a line in the sidewalk.

"Guys-" Mom warns, but we ignore her.

"One." Pinocchio starts. He bends down so he can have a better start. "Two."

"Three!" I yell, pushing him down before running ahead.

"Hey!" He yells as he runs to catch up with me.

I am almost at the finish point when I see Pinocchio out of the corner of my eye. I try to speed up when see him catching up with me. I am running harder and harder, but soon know I will be passed.

Pinocchio runs passed the shop door, turning around only after he has realized he passed it, to watch me sprinting to the door.

I put my hands on my knees to catch my breath.

"I won." Pinocchio brags.

"You're selfish," I retort.

I begin to regret my words when a hurt expression emerges on his face, but soon he smiles.

"Yeah, well," He crosses his arms. "You cheated at the start. So, we're even."

I think about his words and then surrender. "Fine."

Pinocchio chuckles. "Good."

Mom walks up quickly behind us. She puts her hand on Pinocchio's back. "You know, you're supposed to let the kid win."

An ashamed look comes to Pinocchio.

Quickly, I say, "No he's not. He's just not supposed to brag about it."

Shocked, Mom playfully hits him on the shoulder. "You bragged about it?"

"No!" Pinocchio lies.

Mom and I give him disapprovingly glares. He avoids them by motioning inside.

"Can we just get our ice cream now?"

I forget what we were talking about.

As Pinocchio opens the door for us, I hear Mom exclaim, "Two boys! I am hanging out with two immature boys!"

"We are not immature." Pinocchio defends us. "We are just behaving like normal men would behave."

"Right." Mom says sarcastically. "Normal Men."

I think she says something else, but I don't hear her. The ice cream choices take all my attention.

"Hi Henry."

I don't need to look up to know the owner of the voice. It's also the owner of the ice cream store. "Hi Goofy."

Still staring at the different flavors, undecided, Goofy asks me. "What is your favorite flavor tonight, Henry?"'

Yes. I'll admit it. I change my favorite ice cream flavor often. There's no shame in that, thank you very much.

"Oh!" Mom bends down, places on hand around my chest while the other points to the strawberry bucket. "You changed your favorite again. No more strawberry, huh kid?"

"There's nothing wrong with strawberry." I defend last week's choice.

"Nothing at all." I look up again to see Pinocchio's face. "It's good. It's just very - very pink."

Mom releases me to address Pinocchio. He reaches out and holds Mom's arms. I return to the glass to choose my new favorite flavor.

"Of course there's nothing wrong with pink, Emma." I hear Pinocchio's voice. "I was just defending Henry's choice to pick a new flavor."

Goofy mimics my position, bending down and starring at me through the glass. When I realize what he's doing, I met his eyes. We both burst out laughing at the same time.

It's very hard not to like Goofy.

"Pick the new Marshmallow baseball flavor." He tells me. "It's new."

"Marshmallow baseball?" I say, almost disgusted.

"Gawrsh, Henry." Goofy exclaims. "You don't have to say it like that. It's vanilla and marshmallows with cherry syrup magically enhances to look like a baseball. You should try it."

"I don't like sports."

Goofy pounds both his fist on the glass, causing it to shake a little. "Don't like sports! Gawrsh! How can anybody not like sports?"

I shrug. Finally the mint chocolate chip calls to me. "I'll have mint chocolate chip in a cone, please."

He smiles approvingly through his pursed lips. "Good choice, Henry."

Goofy starts for the scooper and the cone, but I stop him with "Wait!"

He puts his hands down the cone. "Changed your mind already, Henry."

No. I just remembered how careless he is with ice cream. With any luck, the ice cream will only be spilling over one side of the cone.

"Is max here?" I ask him. His son is so much better scooping ice cream, despite his young age.

"Henry," Goofy picks up the cone again. Moving deeper into the freezer, he says, "I am not going to spill your ice cream, okay? I promise."

I wonder if people would give Goofy grief if his moral story was like the one of the man standing next to me.

When Goofy hands me my cone, which of course starts tilting over as soon as its in my hand, Mom tells him her order of strawberry followed by Pinocchio's order of Goofy's new flavor.

The three of us pick a table near the window. Before my ice cream falls completely over (Mom brought over a cup just in case), I start licking it quickly.

"I can't believe you actually ordered Marshmallow Baseball." Mom tells Pinocchio.

"What?" Pinocchio looks at her funny. "I like baseball. And it's good."

"You." Mom emphasizes the word. "Like baseball?"

Pinocchio puts on a hurt face. "How can you not like baseball? You lived in Boston."

"So!" Mom starts. "Lots of people live in Boston and don't like baseball or the Red Sox."

"Yeah," He smiles and leans over to kiss mom's cheek. "Freaks."

I smile automatically. Maybe I shouldn't, but I can tell Pinocchio is kidding around by the look on his face.

Mom tries to hide when she rolls her eyes at him, but I see her do it.

When I finished the cone's contents, I start licking off the rest of the dripping ice cream off the sides.

"Are you cold yet, Henry?" Pinocchio asks me with a knowing smile.

I smile. "Nope."

I told them I wouldn't be cold and I don't plan on changing my plan now.

"That's because we're inside." Mom points through the window, "The second we leave, you'll have shivers sent down your spine.

"No I won't. If I do, I'll owe you a dollar out of my allowance." Yes, that is how confident I am that the ice cream will not make me cold.

I expected my offer to excite Mom. I wait for her reaction, but never see it. It then I notice how her whole body has frozen as she continues to stare at the window.

"Mom?" I try to distract her from whatever is bothering her, but can't.

"Emma?" Pinocchio puts his hand over Mom's. "What's wrong?"

When she doesn't answer us, I stop looking at her and follow her gaze to where she's staring.

There is a dark haired, older man frozen midstep. His eyes are locked with mom's and they both have a scared expression on their faces.

Is this man a new stranger in town? I've never seen him before. For a second, I wonder if Emma's breaking of the curse allows outsiders into Storybrooke. Thinking over the last couple months, though, no one new has come to town.

At least no one new that I've heard about.

Mom and the older man are frozen for one more moment before the man starts walking forward again. I know they know each other from mom's shaken expression. I wonder if he is simply a man who's given Mom a hard time during her time in Storybrooke and she just didn't tell me about it.

"Excuse me." Mom says, eying the door.

No! She can't go! I need to know about the new town's stranger.

Mom stands and Pinocchio follows her action. "Wait, Emma. Who was that?"

His question confirms any doubts I still had about the older man being new to town.

Before Mom can answer, however, the front bell rings signaling a new customer in the ice cream shop.

It's the older man!

Without hesitation, he approaches our table. I look at mom, intending it to be brief, but when I see fear behind her eyes, I become scared as well.

Especially after Mom reaches for my hand under the table.

I stay seated, frozen in my position like Mom and Pinocchio.

The stranger stops inches from Mom's face. "Emma Swan." His voice is cold. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question." Mom's voice is foreign to me when she speaks to him. She squeezes my hand and I match her intensity.

Then the man crouches down to address me. Our eyes meet and I hope I am sending daggers through mine. Anything to hurt the man that made Mom scared.

When I actually look into his eyes, however, I know I'm not sending out daggers anymore. There's something familiar about his eyes. I don't know what it is, but it's almost like I've been looking at them my whole life.

"Stop it!" Mom yells at the man. She grabs his shirt collar and flings the stranger back from me a few feet.

Mom lets go of my hand to approach the man. Pinocchio picks up my fallen hand as soon as Mom releases it.

The man laughs when Mom stands in front of him. When he looks down to look at me again, Mom slaps him across the face.

"Get the hell out of here." Mom tells him.

"See. Here's my problem with that." The man says with a smile. "You can't tell me that anymore." He motions behind the cashier's counter. "I don't think you actually work here."

"No." Mom's voice is firm. "Get out of this town. You don't belong here."

I think about Mom's words. I think the very fact that he was able to cross the town boundary probably means he does belong here. Unfortunately.

"Who are you to tell me don't belong here. This isn't your town, Emma."

"Actually." Mom says with a mixture of pride and anger. "It is."

"Oh? Really!" The man laughs.

"What the hell are doing here, Bae?"

"I'm getting ice cream." He says, but know that's not all he's here for.

He looks at me again, a sinister smile appears on his face.

And then, the shivers start going down my spine.

A/N: Here's to another fun ride on the Emma and August roller coaster!