Chapter 2

Scams and Plans

The sun rose. Traditionally accompanying this phenomenon in movies and books would be the caucus cry of a rooster. This is actually extremely uncommon in most of suburbia. However, our little corner of the world was the exception to many rules of the multiverse, including this one. And yet, even Rolf's rooster was cut off by an echoing cry of "COCK-A-DOODLE-OINK!" directly outside my bedroom window. I fell out of bed in a tangle of blankets at the sudden noise. Ed appeared at my side, somehow leveling my window open from the outside.

"Good morning, Double D!" He crowed cheerfully in my ear. I scowled blurrily up at him. How on earth did he get in? Better question, why was he here? That question I directed at Ed. "Why on earth are you here so early, Ed?" Rooster's crow at dawn. At DAWN. Such a time should not exist during the summer. At least, not at a conscious level. Now I was all-too conscious. I do believe it is healthy to get up early to start the day. "Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, weathly, and wise", I believe it was Benjamin Franklin who said that. Probably one of the most important inventor of his time. Discoverer of electricity from which we gain all of our comforts of today. Like electrical lights, for example. These genius devices can simulate day and night so we needn't be reliant on the sun to start our days. Please note that currently my overhead light is OFF.

I couldn't help but frown at the larger boy. It couldn't be healthy to be awaken so abruptly, especially when your wake up call was a combination of an incorrect rooster's call and the carpet meeting your face. I should have strong words with Ed about this. But I was too tired. And Ed still hadn't answered my question.

"Eddy said, 'Fetch Double D, Blockhead!'" Ed announced.

Fetch? What am I? A stick to a dog? Yet, before I could open my mouth, Ed hauled me to my feet. "Upsy Daisy, Double D! We must hurry! The Gravy Train leaves at noon!"

If the train leaves at noon then why are we up at DAWN? Better question. Why am I up at dawn? Ed can do what he liked. Apparently, Ed currently decided that he liked waking me at an ungodly hour.

"Comecome, Double D!" Ed was fairly dancing on his toes at this point, eager to get where-ever Eddy had gone. I snorted and yanked the covers back on my bed and crawled under them. "Tell Eddy that he can wait until after the sun has risen above the horizon, Ed."

This was not what Ed wanted to hear. He started wailing and babbling nonsense about a spaceship coming to eat brains or some such thing. The key to listening to Ed is to filter out all unnecessary parts. Of course, sometime the mix is so thick that it is extremely difficult. That's when you need something to dilute it with water and… Oh, pardon me, I got onto my chemistry analogies.

At this point my covers were yanked violently off me. "Sleep not the day away, Double D! Sleeping makes you forget your numbers, yes it does."

I blink. Then watch in horror as Ed rummaged through my closet, literally tossing clothes into the air as he seemed fit to destroy my room. "ED!" I protested.

Ed spun around, my clothes… from yesterday held clenched in his hand. He thrust them at me. "Hurry-hurry, Double D!"

I crossed my arms. No WAY was I going anywhere. Especially in soiled clothing! Now please, imagine my horror and disgust when Ed proceeded to SHOVE the clothes ON me! Curse Ed and his inhuman strength! Feeling rattled and a little queasy, Ed then dragged me out of my room. Blurs of yellow streaked past me. I think my brain shut down at this point. Slipping quietly into denial that this was happening.

Because it Was Not Happening.

I was finally dragged to a halt in front of Eddy wearing day old clothes, with no breakfast, a messy room, and a house covered in yellow.

And Eddy didn't even think that this would bother me. Or, if it did, that I should get over it. Though he was kind enough not to mention my bedraggled appearance. Probably because he knew it would be the final shake of the champagne bottle before the cork blew. Froth everywhere.

What Eddy didn't seem to understand is that I have a slight complex when it came to my schedules. I have to know that B will come after A, which will be followed by C, and so on. If something happens that deviates from this pattern, I obsess about it.

It happens with everybody. A problem that won't go away in your mind, something unsolvable, and the more you think about it the larger the problem becomes until its so large that you have a nervous breakdown, unable to handle it.

I'm awake at a god-awful hour of the morning.

In soiled clothing.

Without breakfast.

A messy room.

Without having done my chores!

This Was Wrong.

"Salutations! My name is Eddward, and I am Obsessive Compulsive."

"HI, Edd!"

"Ya got that, Double D?"

"Pardon?" I am amazed to find my voice calm when inside I am ready to start chucking lawn furniture at Eddy.

Eddy let out an explosive sigh. My hand twitched. "Haven't you been listening, Double D?"

Sorry Eddy, but I've been too busy contemplating homicide.

"My apologies, Eddy, I was thinking. Could you repeat that?" Eddy looked annoyed. An annoyed Eddy is never a good thing. Because then he blames everything on Ed or myself and it just becomes a huge mess. Sometimes it was better just to indulge him.

"I was explaining my most ingenious scam yet and you're not even paying attention!"

For some reason, I wasn't in the mood to indulge Eddy's ego.

"My apologies, Eddy. But I fear I may be suffering from exhaustion and starvation due to the fact I was dragged unceremoniously out of my bed and out here without any time of warning or explanation."

There was a half a second pause as Eddy translated this. Then another half second where he had to translate it a second time because the idea that this would inconvenience me was foreign to him.

I sound cruel. But I am not in the best of moods.

"No explanation!" Eddy finally finished decoding, and snapped. "What do you think I've been doing these last ten minutes? Planting daisies!"

"I like daisies, Eddy!" Ed put in.

"I don't see how your scam has to involve me when it is clearly too early to start anything! The other kids won't be out for hours!"

"Exactly! You can start working on it until Ed and I get back!"

Get. Back? They're planning on leaving it all to me! I can't believe it! No! Nonononono!

"No."

"What?" Eddy sounded as shocked as I feel. For once my brain and my mouth decided to work together without my say-so.

"No, Eddy." Just going with the flow now. "That you would wake me without warning is bad enough, but leaving me with all the work… I have better things to do with my time. Like sleeping." I turn on my heel and march away, head held high.

It is amazing to me to note that a few years ago the thought of speaking so boldly would have sent me cowering in a corner. I am not sure exactly what happened to cause this change. I guess in spending time with Eddy's insufferable ego, my own ego had to puff up in order not to be suffocated.

I'm surprised I still had an ego to puff up.

"Morn'n, Double D."

I jump. Looking around, I find that it was only Kevin, sitting on his driveway, working on his bike. Wait.

"What are you doing up this early?"

…Kevin is stealing my lines.

"Eddy," I shrug, as if that explains everything. In a way, it does, because Kevin snorts and returns to his bike. I hesitate. "And yourself?"

"What?" he asks.

"Why are you up at this unholy hour?"

Kevin laughed.

"Did I say something amusing?"

"Its Sunday. I'm waiting for my parents because we're going to Church."

…oh…

OH.

I can feel my face heating in embarrassment. I don't go to church. I used to occasionally, because Eddy's parents would invite me, but I always felt uncomfortable. As if I were intruding. Mostly because I feel uncomfortable surrounded by families when I'm by myself. People would ask inconvenient questions.

"You're lucky your parents don't make you go to church."

I smile vaguely as a familiar pain twisted in my chest. "Perhaps."

I remain standing there while Kevin continued tweaking his bike. The silence is strangely comfortable. The birds singing softly while an early morning breeze blew gently.

Words are an interesting concept. I admit feeling vague amusement that during the morning's excitement I kept likening the morning to be 'unholy' or 'ungodly'. That makes me wonder if subconsciously, I knew it was Sunday. It is funny how words are. One word could mean something entirely different in a different context. Take the word 'fine' for example. It can be used in the context of 'I am fine,' describing yourself. It also can be used when you pay a fine. Another word is 'dork.' 'Dork' is one of the most commonly used word in our cul-de-sac, constantly used in the context to ridicule. Kevin even calls me 'Double Dork', an amusing, if insulting, twist of my nick-name. However, in a completely different context, the word means a whale's…er, genitalia.

Shakespeare once said 'a rose by any other name would smell as sweet', however I do not think that is true. I mean, if it was given a crude name, like 'skunk-bush' it couldn't have smelled as pleasantly afterwards, would it?

It makes me wonder how my life would be different if I weren't named 'Eddward.'

Would Eddy and Ed still be my friends? They only really took interest in me when we found common ground in our names all being similar. Would they have looked at me twice if I were a Karl, or a Derek?

If I weren't an 'Edd' then I wouldn't have looked up in the grocery mart when Sara yelled Ed's name. I wouldn't have gotten flustered and left in a hurry, therefore, never running into Eddy. I would have gotten back to my house safely.

Would I still have been there? Locked up in my room, trapped by my own insecurity?

Words change things. When something is given a name, it is given an identity. There is a reason why you are not supposed to give a injured animal that you are simply healing, a name. Once you give something a name, you grow attached. Names are important.

So, if words become reality, what is the concept of belief? If we give something a name, and so it exists, because it cannot exist if it doesn't have a name. So, it makes me wonder, did God exist before man gave Him a name?

…I think I'm thinking too much.

And what in the world brought all that on! I really shouldn't be awake at this time, apparently I'm more insane than usual.

"Eddward, good morning!"

My head jerked up. I think this is the first time I actually met Kevin's parents. I've seen them, of course, around the cul-de-sac, but we were never formally introduced. How did she know my name? Kevin must have talked about me. Then why was she so friendly?

I could feel my face heating again. No matter how much confidence I have gained in the past few years, I still feel embarrassed when faced with new people. I think I expect them to be judging me, and most of my past experiences with that haven't been good.

I realize I've been staring at the ground, unconsciously numbering the lose pebbles, and pulled my gaze upward to meet the one coming from her. Kevin's mother was really very beautiful, with long red hair and hazel eyes that crinkled slightly at the corners. She wore a nice Sunday dress, patterned with fern leaves, and a straw hat. Kevin's mother smiled down at me, an action that threw me slightly.

"How are you doing this morning?" she asked. I could feel my flush deepen as I answered,
"Very well, thank you for asking, ma'am."

"Are you coming to church this morning, Eddward?"

"N-no, ma'am."

"Ah, well, you know you are welcome any time, Eddward."

"T-thank you, ma'am." I heard a snort and saw Kevin with his arms crossed, glaring somewhere to his right.

"Dear! It's time to go! We're going to be late!" called Kevin's father, locking the front door behind him.

"Oh! Of course!" his mother said. "Kevin, could you please put your bike and tools away so we can get out of the driveway?"

"'Kay, Mom."

Glancing down at the mess of tools laying haphazardly across the driveway, I made a quick decision. "I-I'll help."

"Oh, how sweet of you!" She patted my shoulder encouragingly.

"It's n-no problem." Heat spread across my face again.

"C'mon, Eddward, let's get this over with," Kevin sneered as much as he dared in front of his mother.

My blush darkened again as I nodded. "O-of course."

"You didn't havta help. I can do this myself," Kevin said as we lugged the tool box into the garage.

"I know. I am only trying to be polite."

"Hmph."

Silence.

"You're mother is very nice."
"Whatever."

When we had finished, I nodded politely to Kevin's mother, "It was nice meeting you, ma'am," and hurried away.

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It was later. Pain had happened. It had been a typical summer day in the cul-de-sac. I claimed I could predict each day, however I failed to mention that I could do nothing to change it. That includes my invention malfunctioning and getting my leg stuck in the mechanism. How could this have happened, you ask? In ten words or less, Automatic lunch-maker, jawbreakers, Kevin, Eddy, and a faulty wire spring. Believe me when I say that this is not a good combination. I have wrapped my leg in ice, hopefully the swelling will go down before tomorrow, when we'll have a repeat of today, hopefully sans the injury.

Quite frankly, today had not been a good day. What with having been abruptly dumped out of my nice, warm, bed, to having my leg mangled in my own machine, it was the type of day that I wish I had locked my window and remained in bed all day.

In my youth, I call it my youth because I can hardly remember a time when I was a child, I recall having nightmares. My dreams weren't of goblins, or strange demons living in some sticky, smelly heap under my bed. I dreamed of my parents. Actually, I dreamed about my parents, because they never appeared in my dreams. I remember running with cemented feet through the old house, lugging up eternities of stairs, searching for the tall, shadowy figures that remained just around the corner. Then, I would awaken, gasping for breath as if I had just run for miles. Rising from my bed, I paced the house, cataloging every Post-it as proof of their existence. Hating every single, yellow rectangle as much as I loved them, of their proof that I had not been forgotten.

I have nightmares of the day I wake to a world without yellow.

I rant occasionally to Eddy about my feelings towards the Post-its. Usually when They do something I find extremely inconsiderate. Like the time they didn't tell me they were re-doing the bathroom, for example. However, I do not think Eddy realizes how difficult it is for me to speak of them. How terrifying it was to know that at any moment I could be taken from my home by Child Services, and placed in a Home. I know what my parents do by leaving me home alone constantly goes against several child-protection laws. I find it strange now, to realize how much I have changed. Before, in my last home, as much as the thought terrified me, I couldn't help but wish, deep down, to open the door one day to find a pair of suits on my front step, telling me they were going to find a good family for me.

I would never accept it though. I could never accept it. It reeked of failure, of disappointment. To be found out, to be taken away, would be a betrayal of the trust my parents put in me at a very young age, to be able to hold up their reputation. I used to think they hated me, but now I know that can't be true. They are never around to even know me. No, they trusted me. They believed in me at the tender age of three, to walk out that door, and know that I would not burn it down in their absence. That I would, could cook and clean, and take care of myself. While I maintained the home, they were free to do what they loved most. Whatever that was. They could, and were gone for years and they knew that they could always come home to find it safe and warm, waiting for them. I hoped that one day the lure of a warm home would bring them back more often.

Of course, I haven't spoken of this to my friends. Its not that I don't trust them, its simply that they wouldn't understand. They have families. They might not treat them perfectly, but they knew that no matter how much trouble they got into, no matter how far they lean over the edge, that they could rely on someone catching them if they fell. Sometimes I wish I was an orphan. Because at least then I knew that no-one was there for me. It feels as though I am falling. I can feel the ground racing up to meet me, but I can't see it. I don't know if someone is there to catch me.

I think it's the not-knowing that drives me insane.

There is a speckle of dirt on the coffee-table.

From my position on the couch, I find myself locked in a staring contest with it. I could feel it, mocking me with its existence. Lying there, so cozy on the polished, wooden surface, its plotting. Sure, it is only a tiny, almost insignificant amount of dust, but if left alone, it will breed. Soon it would cover the entire coffee-table in filth before spreading to the floor, creeping along the carpet to stretch up to the walls…

I broke my gaze to grab the sanitized rag and scrub furiously at the vile spot.

Its existence obliterated, I lowered my weapon and sighed.

I still dream. Every time I look towards my house I look for a car in the driveway. I hesitate before opening the door, imagining on finding Mother or Father there to welcome me home. I'm such an idiot.

There's someone banging on my door. I slowly become aware of this as my thoughts trickle away. Confused on who it could be at this time of day, Eddy and Ed are usually at dinner about now, I limped over to the door in my pristine, white socks, flinching as I put weight on my injured leg. Upon opening the door, I froze.

"K-Kevin?"

Yes, it was Kevin. Complete with baseball cap and bike parked in my driveway. He glowered at me. "Finally! I've been knocking for five minutes!"

"My apologies, Kevin," I murmured uncertainly. What is he doing here? Is he seeking me out to taunt me now? Unable to keep his gaze, my eyes dropped. "Er, Kevin? Why are you holding a plate of cookies?"

"Uh, yeah." Now, Kevin sounded embarrassed. I glanced up. My poor bush next to my front step is being subjected to one of Kevin's most annoyed look. "My mom wants you to have these. For helping out earlier." I stare down at the plate thrust into my hands. They are oatmeal raisin. My favorite. What a kind gesture. Meeting Kevin's gaze again I smile. "Thank you, Kevin."

"It was my mom's idea," Kevin snapped. I grinned. He's funny when he gets defensive.

"I know. Thank her too. I was thanking you for delivering them. It was very nice of you."

"Yeah, whatever." Now I'm certain. There is a faint blush on his cheeks. Covering my mouth, I try to hide my smile. Kevin noticed and scowled. "Tell anyone and I'll kill you," he growled.

"I wouldn't dream of it, Kevin."

He eyed me suspiciously before snorting, "Fine."

Shifting the plate slightly in my grip as we drifted into an uncomfortable silence.

"Well, I should-"
"Would you like to-"

"Sorry."

"Oh, my apologies."

"Uh…" Kevin stuck his hands in his pocket. "What were you gonna say?"

"Oh, um. Would you like to come in?"

Kevin shot me a look. "Why?"

I glanced down. "Well, we both cleaned up your driveway. We can share these."

There's no way he'd agree. I can't believe I even asked that. This is ridiculous. I might as well have just begged him to make fun of me. I don't know what I'm thinking.

"Yeah, okay."

"What?"

A flicker of a smirk passed over Kevin's face at my shocked expression. He shrugged. "I don't have nothing better to do."

"Oh, um. Yes. Er, come on in," I held the door open for him. Glancing at my living room, I flinched. "I'm sorry about the mess. I wasn't expecting company."

Kevin glanced around as he removed his shoes politely and set them down on the matt next to my own. "Uh, right."

He settled himself on the couch as I bustled into the kitchen. Setting the plate on the table, I took out smaller plates for individual servings and collapsed into a chair with my head in my hands. Oh dear. Now what? Kevin, the cul-de-sac's most popular boy and bully, was sitting in my living room. What on earth should we talk about? We have nothing in common! I can't believe this. If I knew he'd accept, I would never have invited him. No, I lie. I would have, because it is polite to invite someone in when they come over for a kind act. My parents would be ashamed of me if I was anything less than polite, even to my worse enemy.

Is Kevin my worst enemy? I can't help but wonder. Sure, he's a bully, but he has never gone out of his way to harm me. There has always been some kind of catalyst before hand. Usually in the form of one of my inventions. There has even been times when we have been civil to one another. It makes me wonder if he really does hate me.

"Oi! Double Dork!" Something rapped me on the head, startling me.

"K-Kevin?"

How easily Kevin seems to be able to sneak up on me while I am in the midst of my thoughts. I really should start paying more attention.

"Geez, Double D, space out much?" Kevin asked, with a slight smirk.

I flinched, "My apologizes, Kevin. I suppose I'm a little distracted today."

"Yeah, whatever. Do you got anything to drink?"

"Oh!" Stupid, stupid! "Of course, my most sincere apologizes, Kevin! What would you like? I have water, grape juice, orange juice, and milk."

"What? No soda?"

"N-no. I don't drink soda, its terribly bad for you. My apologizes."

"You don't have to apologize every five seconds, Double D. Milk's good. Best with cookies, anyway."

I went to stand up, gasping as my leg let out a spasm of pain.

"You okay?" I looked up at the uncharacteristic offer of concern. Kevin watched me carefully.

"I'm fine…" I said, making to stand again. Kevin shoved me back down. I stared up at him, confused.

"Where are the glasses?" he asked before looking around. Spotting the cabinet marked 'glasses', he snorted. "Nevermind."

I remained seated, watching anxiously as he pulled two glasses and filled them with milk from the fridge. He put one of the table in front of me and sat down across from me with the other. I felt like I was a part of some play, except I had never gotten the script. I examined the grain of wood in front of me, hearing the clink of the glass as Kevin took a drink and set it on the table.

"So…"

I jumped, then pretended that I hadn't. I glanced up to see Kevin looking at me oddly. He looked away as soon as our eyes met. Strange. "What happened to your leg?"

"Oh, um. I am sure you recall Eddy's ingenuitious scheme to earn some finances using a-"

"Lunch-maker, yeah. I creamed you guys because the stupid thing shot sandwiches like bullets," he hesitated. "Did I-?"

"Oh, no. I fear my abrasion came from when the machine itself decided to shoot sandwiches sporadically. I was trying to fix it, and a wire-spring snapped."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Silence descended once again with Kevin fidgeting with his glass. "Is it bad?"

I glanced down at my leg. "Oh, no. It should be fine in a couple of days. No need to worry, Kevin."

I could see Kevin bristle. "I'm not worried! Why would I care about you!"

That hurt. I smiled, trying to ignore the familiar pain. Of course he wouldn't care, it was just that he sounded like… I suppose he was simply making conversation. It was more than I managed to do. I glanced down, vaguely noticing that Kevin had finished half the glass of milk already. That gave me an idea. Well, why not? It is a line of conversation that I can confidently offer.

"Out of curiosity, Kevin. How much liquid would you say is in that glass?" I said, confident in my new role. Explaining facts of life is what I've always been most comfortable with. I may not have a lot of confidence, but these words from respected geniuses in their fields is what I can always fall back on.

Kevin glanced down and looked up and smirked. "Enough to enjoy a few cookies with, but not enough to really enjoy if you're thirsty. I'm not stupid, Double D. I'm not going to be tricked into that stupid half-full/half-empty nonsense."

Nonsense! "Its not nonsense, I-"

"Of course it is," he interrupted. "It states that if you say that glass is half-full then you are an optimist, and half-empty you are pessimistic. However, if you are drinking from the glass you think in terms of it leaving, therefore in your mind it is gradually getting empty, but if you are filling it up, then its getting fuller. Its never always one or the other."

I stared in complete consternation at Kevin. He shifted slightly under my gaze. "My uncle is a psychiatrist. He pulled that on me when I was six."

I blinked, "Oh."

"I should go."

"Oh! But, you never had any cookies!" I protested, distressed that my hosting abilities were so terrible.

"Maybe some other time. It's late. My dad'll kill me if I'm past nine."

"Oh." I hadn't considered that. He has family waiting for him at home. I'm amazing how often I forget that about other people. "Alright. I'll walk you to the door."

Kevin stood up, shaking his head. "That's okay. You're hurt."

"No, Kevin. I'm fine," I smiled. Please let me do this, Kevin. I've been a horrible host, I at least need to see you out. Kevin watched me carefully, before sighing. "Fine, fine. Do what you want."

I smiled, this time genuinely, and Kevin looked away. On our way out to the living room, Kevin walked to match my shuffling pace, both of us silent. Glancing at him out of the corner of my eye, I can't help but wonder what he thinks of me. He thinks I'm a dork, that much is obvious. However, there are times that I wonder if that is it. I know he thinks of Eddy as a dork and a greedy, selfish pinhead. He told me so himself, once. He also thinks of Ed as a dork, but also as a strong, if stupid oaf.

What about me?

I stopped when we reached the door. Kevin pulled on his shoes and nodded to me. "G'night, Double D."

"Goodnight, Kevin. Thank you and your mother for the cookies. I'm sure they will be wonderful."

He shrugged and left, closing the door behind him. What does he think about me? Probably that I'm a dork, plus an annoying, know-it-all, who can't do any athletics to save his life. What was I thinking when I thought we could be friends? I'm only getting my hopes up for no reason. I sighed.

Suddenly, I froze on my way back to the kitchen. Kevin had said 'maybe some other time.' He was willing to come back? Or was he just being polite? Oh dear!

End of Chapter 2

Any notes regarding this story, progress on each additional chapter, up-to-date information on future updates can be found on my profile. Sorry about the wait! Happy New Year!