Author's notes: I am so, so sorry that it took me this long to update! I promise, I won't do that again, to the best of my ability. This chapter was extremely hard for me to write, I seriously wrote three different versions, and I hated every one of them, before I scrapped the whole thing and decided I needed a break for awhile. I came back to it I think four days ago, and I have been struggling to write it for most of that time. Like I said to a friend of mine, "I wonder why it's so hard for a relatively poor girl who was raised in America by both parents to write about a relatively rich boy who was raised in England by his grandfather. There must be some sort of disconnect there."
But, I finally got it to a place that I'm alright with it, and I know where I want to go with his next chapter, so you shouldn't have to wait so long again.
I am, however, extremely busy during summertime, so I won't be able to post as often as I would if I were writing this during the fall and winter months. Bear with me, I will update as often as I can. In the meantime, if you're still following this, thank you so much for putting up with my unannounced hiatus. It means a lot to me. Please enjoy the chapter! :)
Warning: Mild child abuse.
"Once upon a time, there was a very small boy who lived in a very large house. This very, very small boy was four years old, and his name was Davy Jones."
"Hey!" Davy exclaimed playfully, picking up a pillow and throwing it at his sister Constance, who was telling the story. "I'm not very small!"
"Yes you are," Davy's other sister, Julia, piped in. "You're the smallest out of all of us!"
"That's because I'm the youngest," Davy protested. "I'll get bigger!"
"You're still very small for your age," Constance teased. "You're going to get bigger, yes. But not by much."
"I'm not too small!" Davy said again.
"David, my dear boy," Grandpa Jones spoke up from his desk in the corner of the study, where he was pretending not to be amused by the conversation taking place. "I'm sorry to inform you that you are indeed very small."
Davy sighed dramatically and sat back. "Fine," he said. "Go on, Constance, tell the story."
"Thank you," Constance said. "Davy lived in the big house with his Grandpa Jones and his two sisters, Constance and Julia. Constance was nine, and Julia was seven. They also had a very old cat named Viktor."
"Why is Viktor named Viktor?" Davy suddenly asked, turning to where the cat was sitting on the biggest and softest armchair, watching the children lazily.
"Because that's what Grandpa Jones wanted to name him," Constance said. "Now, listen to the story."
"But I want to know!" Davy insisted. "Grandpa Jones, why did you name him Viktor?"
"I named him Viktor because I like the name," Grandpa Jones said. "There doesn't have to be a reason for everything, Davy."
"Why not?" Davy asked.
"This little boy named Davy," Constance continued as if there had not been an interruption. "Was very small, and he was very curious."
"Was not!" Davy said.
"Was so!" Julia shot back.
"He was not!" Davy insisted.
"Do you even know what curious means?" Constance asked.
Davy huffed. "Who says I have to know?" He said. "It's bad and I don't have it."
Grandpa Jones laughed. "Curiosity, David," he said. "Just means that you always have to ask why. You can't ever just accept that things are there without reason. You want to know how they work and what they do and what they sound like and what they look like if you take them apart."
"Oh," Davy said. "That's alright."
"Thank you," Constance said. "One day, Davy wondered what it would be like to live on the ceiling instead of the floor."
"Live on the ceiling?" Davy echoed. "Why would someone live on the ceiling?"
"So they could look down on everyone else," Julia said with a giggle.
"No," Constance said. "Just because it would be fun, and Davy wondered what it would be like."
"What would it be like?" Davy asked, looking up at the ceiling in curiosity.
Grandpa Jones sighed dramatically and stood up. "Since it is becoming increasingly apparent that I am not to be permitted to work, we might as well try out a little experiment."
"What's an exper... experment?" Davy asked, standing up along with Constance and Julia, as Grandpa Jones left the room.
"An experiment is when you try something new," Constance said. "To see how something works, or why it works the way it does."
Davy smiled. "Oh," he said. "That sounds fun!"
"Yes," Julia said. "How are we going to experment on living on the ceiling?"
"With mirrors, dear Julia," Grandpa Jones said, returning to the room carrying several mirrors and handing one to Julia. He also handed one to Constance and one to Davy, and he kept the biggest one for himself.
"Hold them under your chin, like this," Grandpa Jones said, and the children complied.
"Now," said Grandpa Jones, smiling at the children with a twinkle in his eye. "Look down."
Davy looked down into his mirror and gasped. "It's the ceiling," He said in awe.
Julia giggled. "This is fun," She said. "It's like the ceiling is the floor!"
"Come along, children," Grandpa Jones said. "It's time to go on an expedition!"
"What's an... exedition?" Davy asked.
"It means you go exploring," Constance explained, as she began to follow Grandpa Jones, keeping a watchful eye on her mirror.
They explored the second story, the hallways and the bedrooms and the guest rooms and the playroom, and then Grandpa Jones made them put their mirrors down as they walked down the stairs and into the first story, where they explored the dining room and the parlor and the sitting room and the foyer, but they couldn't explore the kitchen because the cook got mad and told them to leave before they messed anything up.
Then they made their way back up to the study, where the mirrors were put down, and Grandpa Jones gave each of the children a piece of hard candy and told them to go play in the playroom so he could finish his work.
As Davy put his candy in his mouth and followed his two sisters out of the study, he paused and looked up at the ceiling, thinking about Constance's story.
"Constance?" He said, running up to catch up with her.
"Yes, Davy, what is it now?" She asked.
"Why do we live in such a big house?" Davy asked.
"Because Grandpa Jones doesn't want to move to a smaller one," Constance said.
"Why not?" Davy asked.
"Because he's lived here since he was a little boy," Constance said.
"Why?" Davy asked.
"Because this is the house Grandpa Jones' parents bought when they first got married," Constance said.
"Oh," Davy said. "Why did they buy such a big house?"
"Because they were rich," Constance said.
"Are we rich?" Davy asked then.
Constance sighed patiently. "No," she said. "But Grandpa Jones is. He's got a lot of money, that his parents left him when they died."
Davy thought on this. "Constance," He said. "Why don't we have any parents?"
Constance frowned. "Because, that's why," she snapped. "Now go away and stop asking me so many questions."
With that, Constance ran to her bedroom and slammed the door, leaving Davy confused, wondering what he had said to make her angry.
"It's not your fault," Julia said, coming up and taking Davy's hand. "Constance just isn't in a very happy mood right now."
"Oh," Davy said, looking at Constance's door worriedly. "Should we go cheer her up?"
"No," Julia said thoughtfully. "I think she just wants to be left alone right now."
Davy sighed. "Okay," he said. "Julia?"
Julia groaned. "What now?" She said.
"Why does candy make your tongue green?" Davy wondered.
"JULIA!" Six year-old Davy yelled, running through the front door and sliding across the freshly waxed foyer floor. "Julia, where are you?"
Julia came and stood at the top of the staircase. "Davy, I'm writing a letter to Constance," she said. "What do you want?"
Constance, who was now eleven years old, was at Boarding school, and Julia wrote her a letter every week, as did Grandpa Jones. Davy was too young to write letters, but he always drew a picture for Constance and sent it along with Julia's letters.
"Is she well?" Davy asked, momentarily distracted from his mission.
"Yes," Julia said. "She says school is very fun, and her new friends like your pictures."
"That's nice," Davy said, running up the stairs to join her. "Maybe I should draw more."
"What is it you were yelling about?" Julia asked as they returned to the playroom.
"Oh, right," Davy said. "I was just wondering, because Thomas at school asked me, why do you and Constance have a different last name?"
Julia looked at him. "What do you mean?" She asked.
"I mean," Davy said. "My last name is Jones, like Grandpa Jones. You and Constance's last name is Greene. Why? We had the same dad, right?"
"Yes," Julia said with a frown. "I don't know why we have a different last name. I never thought about it before."
"That's what I said to Thomas," Davy said. "But now I'm curious."
"Let's go ask Grandpa Jones," Julia suggested.
And so the two children made their way to the study and knocked on the door.
"Come in," Grandpa Jones called, and Julia opened the door.
"Hello, children," Grandpa Jones said with a smile. "What brings you to my study?"
"Well, we were just wondering why Davy has a different last name than Constance and I," Julia said.
Grandpa Jones lost his smile. "What brought this about?" He asked.
"Well," Davy said. "Thomas Milligan asked me, and I'd never thought about it before."
Grandpa Jones sighed. "It's about time you knew," he said. "I just... I never forgave that scoundrel. I don't like thinking about him, let alone talking about him."
"Who?" Davy asked.
"Your father, Edward Greene," Grandpa Jones said with a sigh. "A snake of a man if I ever saw one. He was all sly and cunning when he met your mother, he sweet talked her into believing he loved her. I was against it, but she was set on seeing him. They eloped, by the time I found them, they were married."
"What's eloped?" Davy asked.
"It means you run away to get married," Grandpa Jones said. "So that you don't have to make plans and so that you don't have to tell your parents."
"Oh," Davy said, frowning as Grandpa Jones continued.
"I couldn't do anything against him then," he said. "So I set them up in a house of their own and I gave your mother her inheritance, and for awhile, everything was fine. Constance was born, and they were fine."
"Then what happened?" Julia asked.
"By the time you were born, my dear Julia," Grandpa Jones said. "Edward had taken up the bottle. Of course, I didn't hear of it until years later, but he began drinking away your mother's inheritance. And I suspect he was hurting her, too."
"Hurting her?" Davy exclaimed, jumping up angrily. "Why!?"
Grandpa Jones let a small half smile quirk the corner of his mouth. "It's alright, Davy," He said. "It's all over and done with now. You had better be careful, or that temper of yours will get you into trouble someday."
Davy sighed and sat down. "But why would he hurt our mother?" He asked. "She was beautiful." He had seen pictures of his mother before, and he liked to look at them. His mother had lovely eyes, and a smile that Grandpa Jones said Davy shared with her.
"Because, David, my boy," Grandpa Jones said with a sigh. "Sometimes, people can be very cruel. Not everyone has a good heart, like you do."
"Do I have a good heart, Grandpa Jones?" Davy asked.
Grandpa Jones smiled and leaned over. "Davy," he said. "You have the best heart in the world."
Davy smiled. "That's good," he said. "I don't want to end up mean like Edward."
Grandpa Jones chuckled, then sobered. "Your mother didn't come to me until he had bled her dry," he said. "She was pregnant with you, then, Davy. She left him."
"Serve him right, the... scoundrel," Davy said, repeating the word he'd heard his grandfather say at the beginning of the conversation.
Grandpa Jones chuckled. "Yes," he said. "He didn't like that very much. But Margaret had come home by then, and I helped protect her until a divorce could take place. Edward finally had no choice but to leave town, or risk being taken to court, which was something he couldn't afford, having spent all of Margaret's money and he didn't have a penny of his own."
"So, by the time you were born, David," Grandpa Jones said. "Your mother was a free woman again. That is why your last name is Jones and Julia and Constance's last name is Greene. Does that make sense?"
Davy and Julia nodded.
"I remember him, I think," Julia said. "Him and Mum. I remember them."
"Yes, you were young when all that happened," Grandpa Jones said. "Let me think... I believe you were... three years old when it happened. Constance remembers the most, I think."
"How did mum die?" Davy asked.
"Well..." Grandpa Jones said. "That's a story for another time, Davy, maybe when you're a little older."
Davy sighed dramatically. "I'm not a baby," he said. "I'm six years old! I think I can handle it!"
Grandpa Jones laughed. "I don't think you're a baby, David," he said. "I just don't think you're ready for that story quite yet. And that will have to be enough for now."
Davy sighed again. "Fine," he said. "Let's go, Julia."
"Alright," Julia said. "You can come into the playroom with me. You can draw a picture while I finish Constance's letter."
The two children went back to the playroom, and as Davy looked at his paper and began drawing, he thought of how pretty his mother looked in all the pictures he'd seen of her.
Then he thought of their family, him and Grandpa Jones and Constance and Julia and Viktor, so he decided to draw their family. Maybe Constance was homesick, and the picture would make her feel happy.
So that's what he drew.
"Julia! For heavens sake, stop sliding down the banister!" Grandpa Jones said as he came out of his room, dressed in his suit and hat, slipping his gloves onto his hands. "Why, you are almost eleven years old, and a lady to boot! You are far too old to carry on so!"
"But Davy's doing it," Julia whined, and Davy stopped and looked up at his grandfather, tilting his head, wordlessly wondering if he would also be told to stop.
Grandpa Jones looked down at Davy, and there was a twinkle in his eye. "Yes, well, Davy is only eight," He said. "I think he's got a few more years left in him."
Davy grinned and turned to the banister, which he proceeded to slide down, much to Julia's chagrin.
Her mood soon dissipated, however, when Grandpa Jones reached the front door and stepped out. Davy and Julia followed him out onto the grounds, and in their excitement, clamored around him, asking questions.
It was the day that Constance would be returning from her second year at Boarding school, and the children had planned all sorts of activities to do together when she returned.
"Children, children!" Grandpa Jones said, waving his hands to get some space. "For heavens sake, calm yourselves! I will return with Constance when I return with Constance! In the meantime, please! Try and stay out of trouble!"
But he was smiling, and they knew that he was just as excited to see Constance as they were. They hadn't seen their sister since the Christmas holidays, she had spent the Easter break over at a friend's house.
As he got into his car and pulled away, Julia and Davy ran back into the house, where Julia found their grandfather's old pocketwatch and timed Davy as he tried to see how fast he could run up the stairs and then slide down the banister.
They soon gave this up when Davy got tired, and instead went up to wait in Davy's room, where they could sit and watch for Grandpa Jones' car through Davy's window.
Finally, it seemed, the familiar car came into view, and the children raced down the stairs to greet him, Davy sliding down the banister just to spite Julia.
The two children reached the front door just as Grandpa Jones opened it, and they barrelled out, launching themselves at Constance, who shrieked. "Goodness!" She said. "Get off me!"
Davy and Julia laughingly obliged, and Constance straightened her hair. "Oh, it's so good to be home!" She said. "I mean, I love school, and I can't wait to go back, but oh, it's so good to be home!"
"David," Grandpa Jones said. "Be a gentlemen and help me carry Constance's bags up to her room, please, while she goes and freshens up."
"Yes sir," Davy said happily, running up to the biggest suitcase, which he tried to lift, only to have it tip and fall on him; he was still small for his age, although when teased about it, he obstinately maintained that he would get bigger. They all laughed as Grandpa Jones picked up the suitcase, and Davy got up with a grin.
"Why don't you try one of the smaller bags?" Grandpa Jones suggested, and Davy obliged, picking up the smallest bag, which was still surprisingly heavy.
"Gee, Constance," He said, struggling as he carried it to the front door behind Grandpa Jones. "What's in here? Bricks!?"
Constance giggled. "Wouldn't you like to know," she said primly. Then she leaned over and whispered something to Julia, who widened her eyes for a moment and then giggled.
Davy blinked in confusion, before looking up at his grandfather, who was chuckling. "It's best not to even wonder," he said. "The female mind is a very strange thing."
Davy turned to look at Constance and Julia once again, as Constance tripped over nothing and burst into spasms of giggles.
"Yeah," He said, turning back to the house. "Very strange."
As the weeks passed, Davy found himself wondering what had happened to Constance. She would lock herself in her room for hours, reading letters from her friends and writing them letters in return, giggling over some undisclosed secret that the letters brought with them. When she did venture into the rest of the house, it was just for meals or to go through the foyer on her way out into the town, and after the first few weeks, to the parlor to entertain her newly made friends whenever they came over.
Whenever Davy talked to her, she would let out a long-suffering sigh and roll her eyes before answering, and very often cut him off partway through the conversation and tell him that she had things to do, so couldn't he be a good little boy and run along?
Once, while Constance was having tea at a friend's house, Davy asked Julia why Constance was acting so different. Julia just told him that it was because Constance was grown up now and was more interested in friends and boys than she was interested in spending time with her little brother.
Davy had asked what was so special about boys, and Julia had giggled, much to Davy's annoyance, and told him that he wouldn't understand.
More weeks went by, and still Constance didn't return to her old self; she continuously ignored Davy and even sometimes Julia, and she spent most of the summer out of doors, with other young people around town. After her thirteenth birthday, she got even worse, and resorted to whining and pouting whenever Davy tried to talk to her at all.
Then, about a week before Constance was due to leave for school, Davy was complaining that he had hardly seen her, and Grandpa Jones suggested asking her to take him along for the day, as she was planning to go to the carnival with one of her friends and their family.
So Davy made his way to Constance's room and knocked.
"Who is it?" Constance called from inside.
"It's me, Davy," Davy said, and the door opened.
"Davy, not now," Constance said. "I need to get ready to go and I don't have time for your pestering."
"I just, well," Davy started. "I've hardly seen you all summer, so I was wondering, could I maybe come to the carnival with you?"
Constance looked surprised. "You want me to take you with me?" She asked.
Davy nodded. "If it's not too much trouble," He added.
"Actually, Davy, it is," Constance said. "I can't be bothered to look after you all afternoon. I'm going to be busy with Linda. We won't have time to take you to the kiddie rides, or make sure you don't get into any trouble."
"I won't be any trouble," Davy promised. "You don't have to take me to the rides, I'll be good, you won't even know I'm there."
Constance sighed. "I don't want to look after you, Davy," she said. "Maybe Grandpa Jones could take you to the carnival some other time. I just want to spend some time with my friends for now."
Davy huffed. "That's all you ever have time for, these days, is your friends," he said. "You care more about your friends, and... and boys, than you care about me."
"You know that's not true!" Constance said, frowning. "I just can't cancel all my plans and cater to your whims anymore. I have a life of my own now, if you want some attention, go make Julia read you a story or something. I'm busy."
"I don't want attention!" Davy exclaimed. "I just want to spend some time with you!"
"Well, I don't want to take you to the carnival with me!" Constance returned. "So you'll have to go bug someone else!"
Grandpa Jones stepped up behind them. "What's going on?" He asked, frowning. "You children know better than to fight."
"Davy won't let me alone so I can get ready," Constance said. "He keeps bugging me."
"Am not!" Davy exclaimed. "Grandpa, I just asked her to take me to the carnival, and I said I'd be good, and she wouldn't have to take me on any rides, and I would just stay with her, but she said no!"
"What's this?" Grandpa Jones said. "Constance, don't you think you're being a bit unreasonable?"
"No!" Constance said. "He's been trying to tag along with me all summer, and I'm sick of it! Every time I have plans to go somewhere, he's whining that I'm not bending over backwards to do what he wants! He's driving me mad!"
"Constance, now really," Grandpa Jones said. "All the boy wants is to spend some time with you before the holiday is over. You were gone for a very long while, dear. Why not take him along with you, just for the day?"
"This isn't fair!" Constance whined. "You're making me take him to the carnival with me? Why can't I just have one day for myself?!"
"You've had a lot more than one day," Davy shot at her. "You never play with me anymore! You're just selfish!"
"I am not!" Constance exclaimed angrily. "I just want you to go away and leave me alone for once! All you ever do is whine and cry and pester, you're just a baby!"
"Constance!" Grandpa Jones said sternly. "That is not how you speak to your brother!"
"You always take his side!" Constance said. "You just like him best because he's a boy and he's the littlest and he has your name!"
"Young lady, that is enough!" Grandpa Jones said. "If this is how you're going to behave, you will not be permitted to go to the carnival with your friend!"
"What!?" Constance exclaimed. "That's not fair! We've been planning this trip all week!"
"No matter," Grandpa Jones said. "Until you can learn to be polite and respectful, I can't trust you to go out with your friends."
"Please, Grandpa Jones," Constance continued, beginning to cry. "Please, let me go to the fair! I'll do whatever you want when I get back, I'll help Cook with the dishes, I'll help Julia make her bed, please, I have to go to the fair!"
"No," Grandpa Jones said. "This isn't about you doing chores, Constance. You were very disrespectful to your brother, and you were very disrespectful to me. I hate to punish you, my dear, but you cannot treat people with disrespect and then expect to get away with it! There are consequences for your actions!"
"But that's not fair," Constance said again. "You're the worst grandfather in the world, nobody else is that strict!"
"Well, I'm sorry to hear you feel that way," Grandpa Jones said. "But your saying so will not get me to change my mind. To the carnival, you will not go. Not tonight, at any rate."
With that, he walked back into his study and closed the door, and Constance fell to the floor, crying in earnest.
Davy looked on in remorse. He hadn't meant to get Constance in trouble, he had just wanted her to take him to the carnival, he had just wanted to spend time with her.
"Constance," He said quietly. "I'm sorry. Really, I am! I didn't mean to get you in trouble."
"Oh, why don't you shove off!?" Constance snapped angrily, standing up. "This is all your fault! Go away, leave me alone! I don't ever wanna see you again!"
"Constance, I said I was sorry," Davy said. "Please don't be mad at me! I didn't mean for you to get in trouble, honest!"
"Oh, don't lie to me, Davy," Constance said. "Don't say you didn't mean for me to get in trouble! Why'd you have to go and tattle, anyway? I can never have any fun without you ruining it! You ruin everything!"
"I do not," Davy said, feeling hurt and guilt and anger all at once. "I don't ruin everything! It's your own fault you don't get to go to the fair! You're the one who was saying mean things to me!"
"You do too ruin everything," Constance yelled through her tears. "You ruined my trip to the fair with Linda, you've ruined my fun all summer long, and you ruined our family! It's your fault that dad left and mum died!"
Davy froze. "...What?" He asked.
"Dad didn't want you," Constance yelled. "He didn't want another baby! He and mum started fighting when you came along, and they started yelling at each other, and she said that she hated him, and that she had to leave because of you! Everything's always been about you! Dad left because of you! And then Mum died when you were born, she died because of you! You ruined our family, you ruined it! We were happy before you came along, and now dad's gone, and mum's dead, and it's ALL YOUR FAULT!"
With that, Constance slammed the door shut and Davy stood there in silence, as the sound of sobbing came from the other side. He stood there for a few moments, and then...
"David, my boy," Grandpa Jones said softly, and Davy turned around to see that Grandpa Jones was standing in the doorway of his office. "Come in here, please," He said.
Davy numbly walked over to Grandpa Jones and looked up at him. Grandpa Jones reached down and picked him up.
Grandpa Jones carried him into the study and shut the door, then he walked over to the arm chair in the corner and sat down with a sigh.
They sat there in silence for a few minutes.
"When your mother came to my house," Grandpa Jones said quietly, after a long while. "With Julia in one arm, holding Constance's hand, and you in the middle, not yet born, she looked so tired. And all she said was "I have to do what's best for the baby." She didn't need to say anymore, I knew what had happened."
Davy looked towards the window, saying nothing.
"She moved into this house, along with your sisters, and your father tried to get her back. He tried everything, but she would not go back, not because of you, but because of him. He was a bad man, Davy. He did horrible things to her, and she finally had enough. She didn't leave him because of you. She left him because it was the right thing to do."
A single tear made it's way down Davy's cheek, and he wiped it away harshly. He was no baby. Boys didn't cry.
"Your father left town, not because of you, but because of me. I made him leave town. Then, your mother lived here until it came time for you to be born."
Davy bit his lip. Here it came.
"Having a baby is very hard work," Grandpa Jones said. "My wife, your grandmother, she died when your mother was a little girl. She was having our second child, a son that was to be named after me. They both died."
Grandpa Jones stopped for a minute and swallowed, then continued with the story. "Your mother had a very hard time. I think... I think Greene did something to her, I think he hurt her, it caused complications."
In the back of Davy's mind, a spark of curiosity arose at the long word, he wasn't sure what it meant. But the spark didn't get much bigger, he was too upset.
"Your mother tried very hard," Grandpa Jones said. "She heard you were a boy, she said you were to be given my name, she heard you cry for the first time, and she smiled. Then..."
Grandpa Jones stopped again, and Davy looked up. Grandpa Jones was crying.
Davy blinked a few times, Grandpa Jones was the strongest, best man that Davy knew. If he was crying... then it must be alright, sometimes, to cry. If something was sad, maybe it was alright.
"...She died," Grandpa Jones finished. "Not because of you, Davy. Sometimes, things like that just happen. It's not your fault. I never, ever suspected that Constance... that she would think... If it's anyone's fault, it's mine," He said suddenly. "Without your grandmother to raise her, I did the best I could. Perhaps if I had been a bit more strict with her... maybe she wouldn't have... maybe she would still be..."
Davy was crying now too. "It wasn't your fault either, Grandpa Jones," He said earnestly. "It... it wasn't your fault, and it wasn't... my fault either. No matter what anybody says!"
Grandpa Jones nodded. "Yes," He said, as if he were trying to reassure himself. "Yes, you're right. It's neither of our faults." he sat silent for a moment. "I do love you, David," he said. "I love you very much, and sometimes, I might spoil you a bit. And I shouldn't, I know I shouldn't. But you're so small, and so spirited, and sometimes, I look into your face, and I see your mother smiling up at me. I can't help but give you what you want, you are so like her... and it's not fair to the others, and I know that, but... oh Davy, I don't know what I'd do without you..."
And so they sat and cried together for a long time, before Grandpa Jones saw the time on the clock and decreed that they must freshen up and go to to dining room or they would be late for lunch. He had a tray sent up to Constance's room, as she was still upset, and Julia seemed to sense the high tensions, and after lunch, she went into her room and shut the door.
The afternoon was quiet, and when dinner came around, Constance joined them in the dining room. She avoided looking at Davy, and glared at her plate all night. The meal was somber, and the rest of the night went the same.
The next day, Grandpa Jones took them all to the carnival, and bought Constance everything she looked at, in a silent plea for forgiveness, for keeping her from the carnival the day before. They all had a fun day, but it became apparent that Constance was determined not to speak to Davy, and so the day ended on a bitter note.
Davy kicked a small pebble as he walked down the street toward the candy store. Constance and Julia had both left for boarding school three days earlier, and since Davy's school didn't start for a few more days, he found himself terribly bored and alone.
True, Constance had been avoiding him like the plague ever since the carnival incident, but Davy had never been the only child in the house before, and he missed Julia's company very much. She had been uncommonly nice to him recently.
With no one to talk to or play with, Davy had been spending quite a bit of time with his grandfather, who loved to spend time with him, but was very busy, and had finally given Davy a nickel to buy a candy stick from the store two blocks away from their house.
As Davy walked up to the store, he saw a man across the street, leaning against a car, staring at Davy. The man made Davy shiver for some reason, so Davy tried to ignore him and stepped into the store.
He took his time picking out the candy stick, finally settling for a cherry one. He paid for the sweet, and began sucking on it as he stepped back outside.
The man was gone, so Davy put him from his mind and began the walk home.
As he walked, he thought about Constance and Julia. He was going to write Julia a letter every week, like she had done for Constance, and Davy was trying to decide if he should write one for Constance as well.
He decided against it; she didn't seem to like him anymore, and she might get mad if he sent her letters.
Suddenly, the car he'd noticed earlier pulled up beside him, and the man leaned out of the window. "Hey there, kid," the man said. "Have you seen a lost dog around here anywhere?"
Davy was startled, he knew he wasn't supposed to talk to strangers, and he'd already been nervous about this man. But he also was supposed to be a gentleman, and gentlemen didn't walk away without answering a question.
"N-no," Davy said. "I haven't seen any dogs."
"Are you sure?" The man asked. "Come here, let me show you a picture."
Davy shook his head, taking an instinctive step back. "I'm sure," he said. "I haven't seen any dogs. Goodbye."
He turned and started walking away, only for the car to pull forward a little more.
"Are you Old Man Jones's grandson?" The man asked.
Davy nodded, and then kept walking, as fast as he could without out-and-out running.
He heard the sound of a car door being opened, and he looked behind him-
The man scooped him up quickly, and Davy let out a gasp and started trying to pull away, kicking and thrashing, dropping his candy stick as the man grabbed his wrists with one hand. He covered Davy's mouth with the other and didn't let go, even when Davy bit him, and ran back to the car as a woman across the street saw them and started screaming.
The man tossed Davy into the passenger seat as he stepped on the pedal, and they were off.
Davy started crying, and the man glanced at him. "Cut that out," he ordered. "You be a good little boy and don't make a scene, and then I won't have to hurt you. Got it?"
Davy choked on his tears and nodded, trying to stop crying, but he only found himself even more frightened. After a few moments, the man seemed to get sick of his fruitless attempts to stop. "I said to cut that out," He growled. "Don't make me punish you, kid."
Davy wiped his face hurriedly, with the back of his hand, and choked a few more times, finally getting the tears to stop for the most part. Then the man started swerving and tearing through the streets, and Davy had to grab onto the seat to keep from falling as he lurched.
They drove like this for awhile until they left town, and then the man settled into a normal speed. Davy looked out the window, feeling desperate as everything familiar sped behind him.
"Tell me your name, kid," the man said suddenly.
"D-Davy," Davy said hurriedly, and the man nodded.
"They named you after Old Man Jones, then." he said. "Figures."
Davy sniffled, and then nodded. "I have his name," he said. "I'm Davy Jones."
"WHAT!?" The man snapped, making Davy flinch. "That's not your name!"
"Y-yes it is," Davy stammered. "They named me after Grandpa Jones! I'm Davy Jones!"
"No!" The man said. "You're name isn't Jones, it's Greene!"
Davy blinked. "You mean, like my dad?" He asked. "My mum divorced him before I was born. My name is Jones."
The man shook his head, agitated. "No," he said. "No. They can't do that! You're name is Greene!"
Davy started to get angry, his emotions already high. "My name is Jones!" he said. "Grandpa Jones said it was and he wouldn't lie to me! Edward Greene was a horrible man who hurt my mother, so she left him, and my name is Jones!"
The man suddenly reached out and slapped Davy, who let out a cry and recoiled against the seat, holding his face as he started to cry again.
"DON'T YOU DARE SAY THAT AGAIN," the man yelled. "I never hurt Margaret, she had a fit over nothing, and went crying to the Old Man, when she should've kept her pretty little self in the house where she belonged!"
Davy choked, realizing who this man was. "You're..." he whispered. "You're my dad?"
The man nodded. "She left me," He muttered. "She had no right to leave me. She's mine. She stole my girls and ran off to her old man. The meddling fool. He should've left us alone, he shouldn't've protected her. They stole everything."
Davy managed to stop crying again, and he looked up at his father as the man continued to ramble.
"I had to leave town. But I knew it wouldn't be long before I could come back and take what was mine. The old fool stole my wife and my girls. I won't let him keep my son away from me. No, he's mine, and nobody else can have him. He's mine."
Davy drew up against the seat, growing more frightened as the man muttered to himself. "What're you gonna do to me?" He asked quietly.
"What'd'ya mean?" His father demanded, giving him a look. "You're mine. You're gonna come with me and do what I say. That's what."
Davy shuddered, an act that didn't escape his father's notice.
"Look here, Boy," he said. "Don't go acting like I'm the bad guy here. You're my son, and you'd better do as I say! Now, stop acting like a baby or you're gonna get it! Understand!?"
Davy nodded, and bit his lip to keep from crying again. He turned and looked out the window until the emotional turmoil of the day caught up with him and he drifted off to sleep.
The next several days were a nightmare to Davy. His father drove until they reached a cheap-looking hotel in Leeds, where he took Davy into a small room that smelled bad, and closed the curtains, locked the door, and didn't let Davy out.
The first night they were there, his father spent the entire time writing something down and then crumpling the papers and throwing them away. In the morning, he put one of the papers in an envelope and left, telling Davy that if he so much as tried to escape, he wouldn't even make it out of the hotel before his dad would find him and punish him.
When he came back, he had a bag with some greasy food in it, and gave it to Davy for breakfast. Davy didn't like it, and he was too scared to be hungry, but his dad stood over him and made him eat it all.
After that, his dad would go out every morning and then again late at night, and bring food back for Davy. It was always gross and cold, but he would make Davy eat it all. Whenever he was gone, Davy would sit on his bed and cry, wishing he could go back to living with Grandpa Jones, and wishing that his dad had never come back at all.
When his dad was at the hotel room, he would pace back and forth in the middle of the room, casting glances at the door, and going to peer behind the curtains every once in awhile.
He only ever talked to Davy to give him a command, and he never called Davy by his name, referring to him only as Boy. "Boy, be quiet." "Boy, come eat your dinner." "Boy, stop your sniffling." And whenever Davy disobeyed, his dad would hurt him. Sometimes he would slap him on the face, sometimes he would shake him by the shoulders, sometimes he would shove him to the ground.
Most of the time, Davy spent the whole day sitting in the middle of his bed, trying not to look too upset so his dad would ignore him.
Then, eight days after he was kidnapped, he was sitting on the bed, crying. It was late at night, and his father was out getting dinner, when the door burst open and several adults with guns came storming into the room.
Davy cried out and shrunk against the headboard of the bed, and the adults stopped.
"It's alright," One of them said quietly, taking a few small steps forward and holding out his hands. "It's alright, Davy, I won't hurt you."
Davy choked on his tears, trying to stop crying, but he couldn't.
"Davy," the man said again. "Davy, I'm not going to hurt you. Can you tell me, is the man who kidnapped you still here?"
Davy shook his head, and the other adults all visibly relaxed, putting their guns away.
The first man held his hand up to them, though, and they didn't come any farther into the room. "Davy," he said. "My name is Julian. I'm a policeman, I've been working with your grandfather to try and find you."
Davy sniffed. "Grandpa Jones?" He asked.
The man nodded. "Your grandpa is very worried about you," he said. "Can you let me take you back to him?"
Davy bit his lip, then shook his head. "Stay away," he said. "Don't touch me!"
The man looked anxious. "Davy, are you hurt?" He asked. "Did that man hurt you?"
Davy hesitated, then nodded. "He hit me and shook me and pushed me down," he admitted.
"I promise," the man said. "I won't hurt you. Can you come to me, Davy? We can take you home, and call a doctor to make sure you aren't hurt. Can you do that for me, Davy?"
Davy hesitated, and then slowly climbed down from the bed. The man knelt down to the ground until he was at eye level with Davy, and then held perfectly still as Davy walked over to him cautiously, ready to run if the man tried to take him.
Julian smiled softly when Davy reached him. "See?" He said. "I won't hurt you. I'm gonna stand up now, okay? And then we're gonna go drive to your house while my friends search the room for your dad, okay?"
Davy nodded, and Julian stood up. The other men moved past them, and Julian started walking slowly to the door. Davy walked alongside him, and as they stepped through the doorway, Davy paused. His dad had said that if he tried to escape, he would be punished.
Julian paused as well, looking down at Davy. Davy swallowed, and lifted his hand, taking Julian's hand in his. He felt a little safer, if Julian was with him, his dad couldn't hurt him.
They walked through the hotel and into the parking lot, where several police cars were parked. Julian led Davy to one that was different than the rest, and opened the back door so Davy could climb in on his own. There was a lady in the car, who smiled at Davy and gave him a blanket. Julian got in the drivers seat, and they took Davy home.
As the car pulled into the familiar driveway, Davy saw Grandpa Jones run out of the house, leaving the door wide open as he ran to meet them. Julian stepped out and opened Davy's door, and Grandpa Jones reached in and pulled Davy out, gently but quickly, and then he held him close. He squeezed his eyes shut, and Davy realized he was crying.
"Oh, Davy..." He just kept saying. "Oh, Davy..."
They made their way back to the house and Davy was put to bed immediately. A doctor was called, and Julian stayed, talking to Grandpa Jones and a few other policemen that were there. The doctor announced that Davy was alright, and Grandpa Jones had let out a deep breath then. "Oh, thank heavens," he said. A little while later, the report came in that Greene had been found and arrested, and Davy immediately felt much better.
All the excitement caught up to him again, and the immeasurable relief at being safe and in his own bed, with Grandpa Jones right beside him, made him feel very tired, and he held onto Grandpa Jones' hand tightly as he fell asleep, just to make sure he was real.