Chapter 4: The Tears

The Wheezer living room was almost unrecognizable. Vase after vase of obviously fake, highly colorful flowers littered the tables and the floor. In the corner, a wreth of blue carnations stood on a stand, 'Our Condolences' spelled out in white roses on the top. There was a sigh as Mrs. Whezzer looked over the scene from her spot on the couch, her eyes red and puffy from tears.

Mr. Wheezer's voice was heard at the door. "Oh, well thank you. Yes, thank you. Bye now."

He came in the room carrying yet another bouquet of flowers, and set them on a free space on a side table.

"Well dear, that's the last one. Good thing most people remembered about our asma problems."

Mrs. Wheezer gave a gasp of surprise and promptly burst into loud tears. Mr. Wheezer immediatly russed to the sofa and hugged his wife tightly.

"I'm sorry, dear! I shouldn't have said that word," he comforted, rubbing her back lovingly as tears welled up in his own eyes.

"Oh, Henry!" she wailed. "What happened? We were so careful with him!"

A family album lay open on her lap, showing a picture of Carl with the caption, 'Carl, age 6, first inhaler'. In the picture, a pudgy, little Carl held up an inhaler, his eyes shining with happiness. Mrs. Wheezer stroked the glossy cover over the picture.

"We were so careful," she whispered.

"We'll get through this, honey. I promise," Mr. Wheezer said, tears on his face.

"Don't talk to me about promises!" she screamed back. "He was out miracle baby! Don't you remember?" She stared acusingly at him. "We were supposed to have triplets, and you know how much we were excited." She lowered her eyes, studying her trembling hands. "Then, when the day came, two of them were still borns!"

Another wave of tears washed over her as Mr. Wheezer finished for her, "But one of them survived: Carl. And we promised that day that we would protect him at all costs."

Mrs. Wheezer lifted her tear streaked face to look into her husband's eyes. "Where did we go wrong?"

"I don't know," he whispered back. "I just don't know."

"What's the matter, suger booger?" Mr. Neutron asked as he looked up from his ducks on the kitchen table. His wife looked down sadly as she set down a pie on the cooling rack.

"It's so sureal," she answered, taking off her mittens and placing them on the counter. "I keep thinking he's gonna come in here any minute, complimenting my dress and asking for a cookie."

"I know, honey," he comforted. "None of us were expecting it."

"Ya know, I think he had a thing for me for some reason."

"I wouldn't doubt it. That would explain why he'd pop in here all the as time." He paused as Mrs. Neutron sighed.

"It's gonna take some time to adjust to this, I suppose," she said. "But I have a feeling it's gonna take the kids even longer."

Jimmy rolled over on his back, blinking slowly at the ceiling of his room. He was dimly aware of the mechanical dog moping at the end of the bed, his ears drooped. He sighed, causing Goddard to turn to look at him and wimper sadly.

"I know Goddard," he said. He was silent a moment and then suddenly sat up and grabbed his cell phone.

"There's only one way." he whispered to himself.

When everyone had arrived at the lab, Jimmy was already there. He had somehow brought in two couches, one facing the other, forming a living room type thing in the middle of the lab. They were silent as Libby and Sheen instinctively sat together on one couch, while Cindy joined Jimmy on the other.

"I'm sure you guys know why I asked you here," Jimmy began, his voice faking control. "We're one friend short, and I thought we could use a group...greiving!" His voice cracked at the last word, and he burst into tears.

At first, no one moved, it was such a surprise. It was so rare for Jimmy to cry, and no one knew what to do. Then Cindy reached over and hugged him tightly, adding her tears.

"He was my best friend!" Jimmy wailed, his voice slightly muffled as he cried into Cindy's shoulder. "My first friend. Sure, he was my guini pig on more than one occation, but he was so much more than that! He was so loyal, so trusting. And sometimes, he could actually be brave!"

"Why must the good die young?" Sheen piped up and, as he realized what he said, started crying as well. "And why must we suffer for it?" he finished, lunging at Libby and pulling her into a hug.

"I wish I could have been more of a friend to him," Libby said, tears in her own eyes.

"Me too," Cindy agreed, looking up at her friend. "He was such a good friend to us, even if we weren't to him."

Sheen suddenly ripped himself away from Libby and stood up on the couch. "Ha! You think you've got it bad? This isn't the first time someone near and dear to me has died, you know!" Everyone looked up at him in awe and sadness. "After my mom died, I thought I was safe. I thought I wouldn't need to go to another stinking funeral 'til I was an old man, but then this comes and smacks us all in the face!" He jumped off the couch and looked meaningfully at Jimmy. "And now," he said, lowering her voice. "the three amigops are no more."

"I guess so," Jimmy said defeatedly, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

"Can't you go back in time to stop this?" Libby pleaded.

"Or use your Electrolife thing. Just bring Carl back!" Cindy added, hugging Jimmy tighter.

"You've seen the movies. You know trying to stop it never works," Jimmy argued, as if speaking from experience. "And the Electrolife is still lost in the tomb in Egypt. We'll never find it again."

"So, I guess that's it then," Libby said sadly as she got up from the couch and hugged Sheen again. "Carl's gone...forever."

Jimmy and Cindy got up from their couch as well and formed a tight-knit circle with the other two, in-between the two couches. They hugged other tightly, tears now streaming freely from their eyes as Sheen screamed again to the ceiling, "Why must the good die young!"

"Elke! Come out and dry your tears!" a chunky woman in an apron yelled through the door of Elke's room. "I'll let you feed the llamas tonight!" When there was no response, her mom gave up and walked sadly away, mutturing in Swedish.

In the room, Elke sat up on her bed, her small chest heaving as she cried loudly into a pillow. A letter lay open at the end of her bed, the handwriting not the usual messy scrawl of Carl, but the neat and tidy cursive of one of his parents.

"No, no, no no!" she suddenly screamed, throwing pillows and stuffed animals at the opposite wall with each word. "This can not have happened!" She reached over to her bedside table picked up a picture frame, a recent and accurate picture of Carl held in it. She stroked it lovingly.

"We were supposed to be together! To be together forever, to get married, raise llamas, and...and!" She subsided into tears again, pressing her face against the picture frame. She cried a while longer, and then quietly stopped, calming herself.

"At least it was nice for his parents to let me know," she said, wiping her tears away. "And they did give me plane tickets so I could go to the funeral." She looked down at the now tear-streaked picture frame, looking longingly into Carl's eyes.

"But I still don't understand. Why? Why? WHY!"

When the TV screen went blank, I turned my own tear streaked face to face Emily, and repeated Elke's question.

"Why? Why did this have to happen?"

Emily got up from her seat and sat next to me on the couch, pulling me into a comforting hug. I allowed my forhead to lean into her shoulder, tears still rolling unchecked down my face, my mind still full of the scenes I had just witnessed.

"I know it doesn't seem like it now, but this happened for a reason," Emily consoled, rubbing my back gently. "I'm not even sure what it is yet, but it's there. You've just got to trust that all will be well."

We were silent for a while as I thought about her words, and slowly dried my tears.

"Thanks, Emily," I said, finally. "For everything."

"You're quite welcome, Carl," she responded, poking me playfully on the nose. She gently pryed herself away from me and stood up.

"It's getting late. You should get some rest. Tomorrow's your funeral."