Many hours had passed since Marshall had played storyteller for Zuma. And since then, the pups had been attempting to amuse themselves on the long trip the entire time. For the most part, they all played games with one another. But usually, it would just end up back at them watching TV again. While Marshall and Chase had forced the pups to sit with them through an episode or two of Ultra Rescue Squadron, their favourite show, Skye later got them back with an episode of Gorgeous Princess Catsworth, which bored most of them to tears.
But eventually, as the sun was beginning to set, Ryder was looking out of the window, only to gasp suddenly, his face lighting up.
"Pups... we're here!" Ryder suddenly declared.
"Huh?" Skye piped up, snapping back to the real world.
"We are?" Rocky added.
Quickly, the pups bolted to the windows. But looking out, they realised that Ryder's descriptions of how small the village were was no exaggeration. If it weren't for the small "WELCOME TO REDCREEK – PLEASE DRIVE CAREFULLY – KILL YOUR SPEED!" sign, they would have thought that they just happened across a tiny, pop-up community.
The roads were well-kept, if nothing else; a neat web of cobbled streets. But there was nary a car in sight in any direction. The buildings were mostly made of wood and stone, having a very rustic look about them. It was almost as if they had stepped back in time by several hundred years. And the scant few people around made the whole village seem like a ghost town. But the nearby butcher with fresh meat in its window told another story.
"Huh. Not much to see..." Rubble observed.
"Well, Redcreek is a tiny village, like Ryder said." Chase explained.
"Wondew if thewe's much to do here?" Zuma pondered.
"Hey, maybe we'll head home sooner than we thought?" Marshall offered, prompting a team-wide wave of funny looks.
"Don't talk like that, Marshall! We'll stay as long as we need to!" Ryder reassured. "Besides, it's not like we didn't bring anything to do! And if we get any rescues to do, then that'll be even better, right?"
Marshall still looked uncertain, and didn't seem to notice the odd looks he was getting. All he did was turn back to the window in silence, wondering if he'd wasted everyone's time.
"Well, anyway, I get the feeling that you pups didn't like being cooped up in the Paw Patroller all day." Ryder quickly interjected in a bid to try and lift the mood a little. "How about we stretch our legs before heading on to Mistveil?"
"Sounds like a plan!" Chase replied.
"Oh, yes, PLEASE." Rocky seconded.
"Heck yes!" Rubble added.
Ryder sighed with relief as the pups clamoured at the door, his attempt to lighten things up seeming to have worked. Wasting no time, he opened the door and the pups quickly filtered out of the giant van to take in their surroundings. Ryder quickly followed behind, and somehow immediately felt his body light up as he took his first breath outside of the Paw Patroller.
"Whoa... the air here is so... clean!" Skye observed in amazement.
"I guess not many people own cars around here." Chase deduced.
"Well... gee, that makes me feel a little guilty now." Ryder said sadly as a fleet of Paw Patrol vehicles drove through his head.
"Oh, c'mon, Ryder, it's not like we have a bunch of smoky gas-guzzlers, right?" Rocky reassured somewhat smugly.
"Yeah... you made sure of that, heh." Ryder replied, feeling a little better for their vehicles' green credentials. "Anyway! Let's go explore!"
Setting off down the road, it was clear that the village was certainly in sync with nature. Some buildings had wider gaps between them than others, showing off the vast fields dotted with trees, along with the plentiful amount of hedges and shrubs that lined the streets. And aside from the faint voice here or set of footsteps there, there wasn't much to hear either.
"Wow... it's so quiet around here." Rubble observed, drinking in the sights.
"I'd say this place is probably perfect for an old dog!" Skye added with a sense of serenity.
"Hey, check out that building!" Rocky called, bringing the pups attention to something that he was pointing at.
The pups all gasped as they caught sight of what was obviously the oldest building there. Somewhat resembling an old church, the building was surrounded by green fields with a long, white, stony path snaking up to its towering doors. The building stretched up higher than any other in the village, with tall windows and stone columns complementing a series of spires that stretched to the skies. And before the group sat a sign on one of the small stone walls surrounding the property: "REDCREEK VILLAGE HALL".
"Wow!" Marshall exclaimed.
"It's so cool!" Chase seconded.
"Village Hall, huh? This place really makes a statement!" Ryder read the sign aloud.
The pups stared at the ancient building for a long while, almost tempted to go in until a croaky woman's voice interrupted their gawking.
"Well, howdy, Ash!"
"Huh?" Marshall responded reflexively, turning around to the voice to see an elderly woman dressed in a brown coat with a black handbag standing behind them, squinting at him specifically.
"Hey, is my eyesight failin' me again, or did y'all get smaller?" the woman asked.
"Umm..." Marshall was completely uncertain of what to say, and so were the rest of the pups.
"Sorry, can I help you?" Ryder interjected quickly, sparing Marshall the awkwardness.
"Hm? And who're you, sonny?" the woman asked, turning her attention to the boy.
"I, er, think you may have my pup mistaken for someone else."
"Ugh, hold on, lemme get my glasses..."
The woman slowly took her handbag and began rummaging around inside. Producing a glasses case that housed a pair of small, rounded spectacles. she gingerly placed them over her nose. Her eyes relaxed as the world came into focus, only to then widen at the sight of the dalmatian pup before her.
"OH-! Oh, I'm sorry! Beggin' yer pardon! My eyesight really IS failin' me! I-I thought y'all were someone else. But... wow, y'all look just like 'im..." the woman sounded amazed.
"Excuse me, Miss, but who are you talking about? We're actually looking for a dog who might live here..." Ryder asked.
"Well first thing's first, my name's Ursula, young'un. What's yers?"
"I'm Ryder. I'm not actually from around here, and neither are my pups."
"Yeah, y'all look it." Ursula observed, clocking the boy up and down, noting his brighter dress sense. "What dog're ya lookin' fer? And why?
Ryder's brow furrowed. "Well, this is... kind of a funny story... but we're looking for a dalmatian. Goes by the name of Ash. Or, at least, he did years ago... because that dog... he's... actually this pup's dad."
Ryder awkwardly gestured to Marshall, clearly not expecting to be believed. In turn, Marshall winced, bracing for what Ursula might say. But much to his shock, instead, Ursula paused for a while with her wrinkled mouth opened slightly.
"So he really does have a kid..." Ursula whispered, astonished. "Shee-oot... I mean, he did say that he had a kid at the last Village Fair, but I didn't think I'd actually meet 'im... and gosh, yer as cute as he said ya were!"
"(Aww, dad...)" Marshall whispered to himself.
Marshall felt his spirit soar. The present tense was more reassuring than he ever could've hoped for. And if nothing else, the letter had led them right to Ash. For better or ill.
"Could you help us find him? Please?" Ryder asked politely.
Ursula looked back at Ryder and gave a small smile. "Well, er, Ryder, I'm not sure he's home right now. Old dog spends a lotta time walkin' round the village, after all. But he lives at ol' Mistveil Farms, just on the other side 'a town."
Marshall felt something frantically nudge his side.
"Hear that, Marshall?! Mr. Ash is definitely here!" Chase whispered, with the shepherd's excitement quickly spreading to his friend.
"Say, how'd y'all find out he was here, anyway? No-one goes outta their way to come to ol' Redcreek these days!" Ursula asked curiously.
"Well, he actually sent us a letter..." Chase began.
But Marshall didn't stay to listen, as something else entirely started to get his attention. A strange, if tasty, smell filled the air; not something the pup was expecting at that point. It was unmistakably the smell of cooking, but Marshall's ears couldn't help but pick up on the distant sound of a commotion. Suspecting trouble, the pup turned to Zuma and tapped him on the shoulder.
"(I think someone's in trouble. Anyone asks, I went further down the road.)" Marshall whispered.
When Zuma nodded in response, Marshall turned to follow his nose and ears whilst everyone was concentrating on their conversation with the villager. And thankfully, Marshall didn't have to go far before the commotion he heard began to come into focus. Marshall soon tuned his hearing to the exact source of said commotion; an open window into a kitchen.
"ACK-! My pan's burnin'!"
"I TOLD ya to take the bacon off the heat, pa!"
Within this kitchen was a somewhat-older man clutching the handle of a frying pan with both hands as a raging inferno billowed forth from it. The man looked utterly panicked, with the teenager standing behind him, a black-haired young woman in a well-kept school uniform, looking exasperated by the whole display.
"Oh, no! What do I do?!" the man yelled.
"Quick, pour some water on the durn thing!" the teenager replied sharply.
"OK, OK, turn the faucet on!"
And with that, the pan was angled towards the sink as the teenager made a beeline for it, reaching out to turn on the flow of water...
"WAIT! STOP!" Marshall screamed, startling the two into looking out of the window. "Don't pour water on that!"
"What the Sam Hill?!" the woman shouted.
"That's a grease fire!" Marshall continued. "You can't put that out with water! You try pouring water on that, it'll throw the flaming oil everywhere!"
Marshall was already getting skeptical looks from the pair. "Well, alright then, wise-pup. What do YOU think I should do?!" the man demanded.
"Smother it! Get it off the heat and cover the pan! With something metal!"
Looking at each other, the two scrambled to look for a place to put the pan. The woman lifted the drying rack off of the side of the sink, and the man quickly slammed the burning pan down. Then came the frantic search for something to cover up the pan. But it didn't last long, as the woman quickly presented a large, metal tray to Marshall.
"I got this baking tray, pup!"
"Perfect!" Marshall declared. "Put it on top of the pan and back away! Let it burn out!"
Doing as Marshall said, the woman quickly placed the baking tray carefully over the top of the pan, making sure that no flames could escape. Watching the display tensely for a while, the worry was growing among the two in the kitchen. But Marshall, keeping his distance from outside the window, remained as cool as a cucumber, knowing what was going to happen.
And sure enough, the flames quietened down inside the pan.
"Hey! I think it's workin'!" the woman declared jubilantly.
"Whoo-whee! That was dicey! I almost set the whole kitchen on fire!" the man added with relief.
The woman gave the man a withering look. "Maybe leave the cookin' to me next time, pa?"
"Alright, alright..."
Excusing himself, the man walked up to the kitchen window and leaned out to get a better look at the dalmatian who had appeared in the right place at the right time for them.
"Hey, thanks a lot, pup! Ya really saved our hides!" the man said gratefully, looking straight at Marshall.
"Hey, no problem!" Marshall replied, walking closer to the window. "Sorry I couldn't save your bacon, though..."
"Heh heh heh! Aww, it's only bacon! Uh-"
Suddenly, the man's expression changed to that of astonishment, looking like he'd just seen a ghost. Staring at the pup before him, Marshall started to feel slightly uncomfortable at having a hole stared through him, before the man blinked hard a couple of times.
"Whoa... fer a second there, I thought ya were..."
"Thought I was what?" Marshall asked.
"Well, er... ya reminded me so much of an old dog who lives 'round here. Used to be a firedog. Same breed, too!"
Marshall gasped quietly. That was Ash, no question. For his help, it looked like he was about to be rewarded with another clue as to Ash's whereabouts.
"Well, uh... I'm actually, er... looking for a dog like that..." Marshall became far less certain all of a sudden, becoming halting and awkward. "Because... I think that dog might be my dad... he sent us a letter, and... directed us here? To a place called Mistveil Farms?"
"Yer his boy?" the man replied without hesitation. "Well that explains why ya looked so much like 'im! He's saved us from fires a few times himself!"
The man smiled widely at the pup before him. "Not sure where he is right now, though. Ash don't spend much time at home. But his owner does! Farmer by the name 'o Gage Sullivan. 'Bout as tall as me. Big guy. Long, dark hair. Green eyes. You'll know 'im when ya see 'im."
"(It's getting closer, now...)" Marshall felt the anticipation swell inside him at the clue he was just given. "Thank you so much! You've been a huge help!"
"Not as much of a help as you!"
Saying his goodbyes to the villager, Marshall decided that he'd better find the other pups before they started to worry. But thankfully, he hadn't run far down the street. And almost the moment he started walking, he saw Zuma come down the road towards him, with the remaining Paw Patrol following behind him.
"Hey, there he is!" Chase shouted.
"Marshall!" the group called.
"Guys! I'm so sorry!" Marshall quickly apologised.
"Zuma said you'd heard a commotion of some kind." Ryder said. "What happened?"
"Grease fire." Marshall replied. "But they put it out before it got too bad. I told them what to do. No-one got hurt."
Everyone present let out a sigh of relief.
"What a relief! Nice work, Marshall!" Ryder complimented.
But now it was another pup's turn to be distracted by a distant noise. This time a loud, metallic crash. Having not gotten the chance to listen to Marshall explaining the clue he just found, Chase found his focus drawn to the street visible between a house and a clothing shop.
"(Huh? What was that noise?)" Chase thought. "(It came from around there...)"
Slinking away from the pack, Chase quickly sauntered through the buildings and into the street on the other side. Looking to the left, he saw an overturned trash can with its contents spilled onto the floor. Steadying his nose and his stomach, Chase walked over to investigate, but all he found was a black bag inside the can that had been ripped open, spilling out contents best not described here. Despite feeling decidedly nauseous, Chase looked around, but didn't see anything. And with that, he swiftly ran to the other side of the street as fast as his legs could carry him, eager to get away before the stench tormenting his sensitive nose made him vomit.
"Huh... must've been a raccoon or something." Chase observed to himself absently, still trying to settle his stomach.
"Er-HHHEEEMMM!"
"BWAGH-!"
Chase practically leapt a full foot off the ground at the loudest, most exaggerated throat-clearing he'd heard in his life. Quickly whipping around, afraid that he'd made someone angry with him, he barely had the time to think of something to say to what was doubtlessly the owner of the tipped-over trash can...
...but somehow, what Chase saw nearly made all his colour disappear on the spot. Every single joint of his went rigid and his jaw practically cracked the floor with how hard it dropped.
Standing before him was a dog whose blue eyes were giving him the mother of displeased, stern looks. The dog was a tall, slender and clearly-aged breed. His coat as white as snow. Adorned with black spots with plenty of gray furs sprinkled in. Around his neck was a murky red collar with a dull, circular, metallic tag. There was no mistake. This dog could only have been...
"...Mister... Ash?" Chase whispered in awe.
"...good evening." the dalmatian greeted curtly in a low, thoroughly-raspy voice.
"E-err... h-hi! Er... ugh-! Umm..."
Chase was utterly tongue-tied. Now that they'd found the dog they were searching for, he had no idea what to say. He was so lost for words that the corner's of Ash's mouth twitching didn't even register to him.
"Can I help you?"
"E-errr... w-well, I... s-sorry, this is kind of a shock..."
"A random pup poking around in the garbage certainly IS a shock, isn't it? I didn't come here on my walk to have to deal with a troublemaker. Speak up!"
Chase's heart sunk. Ash was nowhere near how he remembered him! Or how he was in the letter! Did he even have the right dog?
"M-Mister Ash, d-don't you recognise me? I-It's me, Chase! You know? New pup in Adventure Bay? Met Marshall? His first friend in who-knows-how-long?"
"Kinda rings a bell." the dalmatian replied flatly. "But how do I know you're not just some troublemaker who SAYS they know someone I do?"
Chase's heart sunk further.
"M-Mister... A-Ash..." Chase squeaked.
With the same skeptical scowl adorning his features, the dalmatian moved in and started inquisitively sniffing Chase. The shepherd could only remain stock-still as the older, spotted dog investigated him. Slowly, the dog moved around him, starting with his face, then his neck, before moving onto his side, then his back, then his other side. No sound came from the dog but sniffing. The tension was utterly unbearable, especially when the older dog moved around to Chase's face again.
Once more, quiet, careful sniffing filled Chase's ears, with the tension in the air being as heavy as ever... leaving Chase completely unprepared for the tongue that started licking his face.
"BLAGH-!" Chase shrieked. "AGH-! HAHAHA-! WHA-AHAHAHA! HEE HEE! A-ASH-! WHAT-?! WHAT ARE- HAHAHAHA-! Q-QUIT IT, THAT- HEE HEE HEE HEE! QUIT IT, THAT TICKLES- HAHAHAHAHA-!"
Chase quickly fell onto his back as the dalmatian's tongue continued to lash at his face, with Chase in turn continuing to giggle hysterically. But eventually, the licking stopped, and Chase's vision focused enough for him to see the dalmatian giving him a massive, ecstatic smile, eyes shining with utter glee.
"Chase, dear boy! Goodness me, I can't believe it! I haven't seen you in years!" Ash cried joyfully, his long tail wagging behind him.
And suddenly, Chase's tension began to evaporate. "So you... you don't think I'm a troublemaker?" he stammered with a widely-spreading smile.
"Oh, please! I was just messing with you! And you took it so seriously! And still calling me Mr. Ash! Ha ha ha HAR! Ahh, you haven't changed a bit!" Ash leaned in and joyfully nuzzled the shepherd on the floor in front of him.
And with that, the last of Chase's tension disappeared entirely. "Heh... heh, heh... HAHAHAHA-! Ohh, you-! You really had me going-! AHHH HA HA HA!" Chase choked through his laughter.
"Did you get my letter?! Redcreek's so far from Adventure Bay! I-I mean I secretly hoped I'd see you, but I wasn't expecting you to actually show up!"
"We did, we did! I-It was such a shock when we heard that you were watching us!"
"News travels far, don'cha know? If there's one thing we DO have out here, it's TV! But..." Ash took another long, hard look at Chase. "...oh, my word, you've gotten so big! TV just doesn't do it justice!
"Aww, Mr. Ash..." Chase curled up on the floor with a bashful grin.
Ash couldn't resist rubbing Chase's belly with one of his paws briefly. But then, suddenly, the dalmatian froze up, suddenly looking serious again as he took his paw away. The transition was actually slightly jarring to Chase, but then he remembered: there was someone else who needed to see Ash. And it seemed that Ash had remembered, too.
"Say, er... Chase..." Ash began. "...in all this excitement... I forgot to ask you... Are... ALL of you here?"
Chase quickly got to his feet, growing a serious face of his own.
"Yeah... everyone... is... including Marshall."
Ash gasped, with his eyes shooting open.
"...then... I'm so sorry, I know we've only just seen each other again, but-"
"Chase?"
Ryder's voice coming from the side swiftly caught their attention. Looking over revealed a sea of utterly astonished faces. Five pups and one boy had watched the scene in total shock without saying a word up until that point. It was like staring at a group of statues.
But Ash quickly grew the same astonished face upon seeing one particular pup among them. For a few seconds, he stared directly at what looked to be a smaller version of himself. Blue eyes. Black spots. A white coat. But in truth, Ash knew exactly who this was. And the identity of this particular pup made his aged heart practically stop altogether.
After a few seconds of staring, the smaller dalmatian sauntered across the quiet road to where the larger one stood, the pair meeting him on the sidewalk. But the two continued to stare, without a single word leaving either of their mouths for a good minute or so. No onlooker dared to break up the silence, thanks to the group-wide afflication of not having a clue of what to say.
"Umm..." Marshall stammered.
"Err..." Ash stuttered.
For a few moments more, the silence continued.
"I think... I think I'm supposed to say something, here." Marshall finally said haltingly.
"Err, so am I... I think." Ash replied uncertainly.
"But... you know, now that I'm seeing you... I've got nothing."
The silence returned for a few moments, until Marshall let out some weak stammers before speaking again.
"It's weird, because I've basically been torturing myself about whether you were even still alive or not, or even if you still cared about me... I really, REALLY wanted to see you again... and now... I'm drawing a blank, heh. How about that?"
But sadly, not even saying something more substantial got so much as a peep from the elder dalmatian.
"Darn it, please, say something already!" Marshall snapped in frustration. "I'm trying here, but I can only do so much by myself! I-I'm totally... I-I-I'm lost, here!"
Much to everyone's surprise, this got a response out of Ash. Smiling wryly, the dalmatian paused for effect before opening his mouth:
"Hi, Lost. I'm Dad."
Finally, the tension had been cut. The awkward silences had been mostly banished. To some, it was a relief. But to others, including the smaller dalmatian right in front of him, only confusion remained at Ash's choice of response. At first, Marshall's eyebrows arched. But then, his gaze fell into a withering, unimpressed glare.
"...you've gotta be kidding. I don't see you for five years. And one of the first things you say... is a crummy dad joke... th-that... I-I don't... ha, ha... I don't even know what I'm- hahaha-! S-Supposed to say to that!"
Marshall wasn't paying any attention to the other pups around him, but if he was, he would've noticed them all desperately trying to suppress giggles. Something that he in particular was failing to do. Struggle though he might, Marshall was utterly failing to keep the illusion of being totally unimpressed. The corners of his mouth only went higher and higher.
"I-I mean, hahahaha-! Th-that's not funny-! HAHAHA-! It-It's not even clever! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA-!" the pup quickly fell to the floor. "IT WAS FREAKING TERRIBLE-! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AAHAHAHAHA! Y-YOU... HAHAHA-! YOU SUCK, DAD-! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Ash couldn't keep himself from shedding one joyful tear before yelling at the top of his lungs:
"I can't believe it... MY SON CAME BACK TO ME!"
The older dog made to run towards his son for the biggest hug he could muster, only to be sent off his feet by a pebble. And before he knew it, he was careening towards Marshall far faster than he was hoping for...
"Umph-!"
...and was sent plowing into him like a runaway train. Marshall's laughter only paused for a second, before escalating into even louder hysterics as Ash was left laying on his front with his son right on top of him. He stared at the remaining Paw Patrol and gave an embarrassed grin.
"I'm good!"
And now, after over a year, Ash has finally made a physical reappearance! And we get to see some of Redcreek as well. The question now is: where will this lead? Well, I guess that's just something to be found out later.
Not too much to say here other than to apologise for the later-than-usual upload due to working on non-Redcreek matters. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, please review/favourite/follow if you did, and I hope to see you next time.
OC KEY
Ash – a male Dalmatian and Marshall's father. Was adopted years ago whilst his son stayed behind with Chase and Ryder to form the Paw Patrol. Sent a letter in the hopes of drawing his son and his friends to Redcreek.
Gage – Ash's owner.