Sweet little Cosadam watched as all the children of different species played together happily- harmoniously, even- on the street in front of me. He loved seeing them so happy, but he secretly felt a small pang of jealousy. He dearly wished to be able to join them, yet he was stuck on the wrong side of the fence, his sweeping as boring and monotonous as the rest of his days usually were.
"Cosadam!" came a shrill voice from behind him. He jumped around, grabbing at his broom uselessly and began to sweep vigorously as Janet B. Benson approached him. He was always told he was supposed to like her- this wonderful woman who, along with her husband, was letting him stay with them even when Bee Larry King couldn't take care of him, but he wasn't so sure. She treated him cruelly, as did Martin B. Benson.
And that was why he spent so much of his time hidden away in his own little world. He imagined a tiny Utopia, where he and the other children could play together blissfully, not having to worry about adults or illness or trouble. Just pure, reckless fun with no fear of consequences. He longed for it to be real so much that he would make a wish on a star every night, but he always woke up in the same stuffy corner of the attic. He had come to accept that his hopes and dreams were officially dead, but there was that small, childish part of his brain that screamed not to give up. It was foolish.
"Now, it's time to come inside!" Janet told him briskly, grabbing him by the arm (in a way so painful he dropped his mop) and dragging him inside. Ah, inside the inn. Adam resented the place and everything it stood for.
Simply put, the Benson Inn was a horrible scam. Cosadam had no clue when he first went to live with them, but his ignorance gradually waned away as he began to notice. And as he noticed, he asked questions, such as, "Why is everyone drunk here, Monsieur Benson?" or, "Why are you taking that man's money, Monsieur Benson? He's already paid for his drink!"
He had been younger then. Now he understood that his custodians were dirty, thieving conpeople. He was disgusted that he was in any way connected to them. Stealing simply was not acceptable in his moral code. Earning honey the right and honest way was important. And by the right and honest way, he of course meant in a nice cubicle from nine to five, Monday to Friday.
Still, he had to accept that in the state the economy was in, jobs were hard to find, so he supposed he had to reserve just the tiniest bit of sympathy for them, or at least he would have if they weren't so awful towards him.
They had their own son, as well. His name was Ken, and they favoured him, spoiled him. "Blood is thicker than sewage," they would say, which Adam would first point out is not true at all, then state that Ken was obviously adopted and therefore not their blood son. This was obvious because Ken was a human, but if he pointed that out, god forbid, he had to sleep in a kennel outside instead of in his comfortable pile of sacks.
"Madame," Cosadam started meekly, "what, pray tell, did you call me in for?"
"We need you to scrub up Monsieur Pierrejean's sick. He got a bit drunk and vomited all over the floor."
Cosadam sighed. "Yes, madame," he said helplessly. He had no choice but to do so.
Once the vomit had been transferred from the floor into a bucket, the bucket was taken from him and another immediately thrust at his chest.
"Cosadam, be a honey and go get some water from the well," Janet said curtly.
He, of course, obliged.
Meanwhile, Monsieur Benson was spoiling his Ken rotten.
"Who's a good boy?! My lad, that's it, that's it!" he almost shouted, his voice bustling with energy and laughter. "Oh, Ken, do that…uh, trick daddy showed you, huh?"
Ken nodded his head and approached the unconscious Monsieur Pierrejean. He snuck his hand into the man's back pocket and slowly but surely withdrew a small bottle of honey. He giggled gleefully and ran to his father. "Uhhh…here. I would have been faster but…the floorboards…" he said, his voice frightfully deep for a nine year old's.
The well was deep in the woods and it was very dark, and Cosadam was so little he found it utterly, mind-numbingly terrifying. Every silhouette of every tree seemed to be mocking him as it twisted into the shape of some evil witch in his mind. He ran as fast as he could to the well, wanting to get the whole experience over with.
He let the bucket down to collect some water, then lifted it out. He seized the handle and ran to get out of the clearing, only to stumble right into a big mosquito.
The mosquito peered closer. "D-don't freak out, kiddo," he said quietly. "But…are you Cosadam?"
"Y-yes…Monsieur."
"Well, paint me red and white and call me a candy cane!" the mosquito called happily. "I'm Moose Valblood, I'm here to help you! Uh…shall we return to your home?"
Wordlessly, Cosadam lead him to the inn, the flame of hope inside his heart burning a little stronger now there was a stranger beside him who could potentially get him out of this hell.
"Hey, uh…are you the…keepers of Cosadam?" Valblood stammered at Janet and Martin Benson.
"Yes, yes we are," Martin said, eyes shifting suspiciously. "Why?"
"I want to purchase him!"
"…We love him too dearly for that! It would take an awful lot of money for us to release our talon- release our…grasp on the boy!" Janet protested, as Martin picked the squirming child up in an awkward hug.
"Yeah…I see," Valblood mumbled. "Look, I have a whole kilogram of honey here! I'll give it to you for the boy!"
Martin dumped Cosadam on the floor. "Deal," he said without skipping a beat. "Take the little fucker. Ken, come say goodbye to Cosaaron!"
"Cosadam," Janet corrected him through her teeth.
Ken walked over. "Uh. Bye…bee boy," he said, choosing to revel in the glory of the moment instead of dwelling on pitiful curiosities such as why Cosadam was leaving.
"Right…uh, bye." Valblood left the huge block of honey and led the delighted and squealing Cosadam away by the hand.
He looked on fondly as Cosadam gazed in awe at a fancy doll in a shop and quickly purchased the doll as a gift to him. Cosadam was delighted, but had an important question.
"Will you be my new papa?"
Valblood nodded furiously, tears of adoration appearing in his eyes. "Of course, kiddo. Of course I will."
