AUTHOR'S NOTE: I kinda made a small error in this story with Francine being an orangutan. She's actually a monkey. I apologize for that and the fact that I haven't updated this story for months. Hopefully I can keep working and finish this story soon so I can work on my other fanfics.
Elwood City awoke the next morning to a somber, cloudy sky. A rain storm was expected to pass by that evening and everyone was thankful that they wouldn't go outside during most of the day and immediately get soaked. Usually, the weather forecasted on the news would occur as the newscaster said it would, but occasionally there would be certain changes to the meteorological conditions predicted for the day, such as strong wind, a sudden rise or drop in temperature, or a quick thunderstorm. No one thought about the possibility of the weather altering slightly or majorly; the entire population was more focused on their own affairs, whether it was business related or based on their hobbies and passion for specific activities.
Bitzi was busy making breakfast for her and Buster. As she scrambled eggs in a pan over the hot stove, she glanced out the window and frowned at the sight of a gloomy day. If it was going to rain all day, the drive in and out of work would be difficult depending on the ferocity of the rainfall. It did say on the news that it would rain later in the day; she hoped that the newscaster's predictions were correct.
When the meal was ready to be served, Bitzi turned the stove off and called out to her son. "Buster, breakfast is ready!"
The door to Buster's room did not open. There weren't even sounds of Buster walking across his bedroom to reach the door. This worried Bitzi a little. Last night her son had stayed up until 8:30, not as late as he did periodically, so he would have been up and ready for school by now.
"Buster, did you hear me?" Bitzi softly called out. "I said breakfast is ready!"
This time she got a response from her son.
"I'm coming!" Buster called out to his mother.
The tone of her son's voice assured Bitzi that Buster was well enough to go to school; even so, she was still concerned about her son. She remembered what occurred the previous night. Buster was watching TV and she getting ready for bed. When she was about to slip into her bed, Bitzi heard her son gasp like a terrifying monster had appeared right in front of him. She hurried to the living room and asked her son what was wrong. Buster's response was: "I saw something scary while I was changing the channel."
Bitzi remembered returning to her bedroom thinking nothing else of it. She spent the next hour in bed reading a mystery novel called "Treachery and Betrayal". At 8:30 exactly, Bitzi heard the TV shut off, followed by Buster mumbling to himself as he passed her room to his bedroom. She couldn't make out any precise words but it was clear that he was profoundly bemused about someone based on the only word she could make out: he.
Buster entered the kitchen in his usual attire- a turquoise long-sleeve shirt with a light red collar and dark blue jeans. It was easy for Bitzi to notice the dark circles under her son's eyes, an evident sign that the young rabbit had difficulty getting to sleep. Bitzi guessed that Buster had indeed saw something on TV that terrified him immensely, and that was surely the cause of his sleep deprivation.
Even when she believed she knew why her son had been startled the night before, Bitzi had reason to doubt her theory. For the past two weeks, Buster had been significantly distraught about something that happened at school. He wouldn't say what was troubling him and that was enough to frighten Bitzi. She had always been anxious about her son's well-being after she and her husband got divorced. The fears of what could happen to Buster- whether it be minor like a temporary sickness or major like a horrible injury -had always plagued Bitzi since the dissolution of her marriage with Bo, a rabbit who was too dedicated to his career as a pilot to spend time with his wife and son.
Whatever situation Buster kept concealed from her was undoubtedly critical from the start. Everyday after school, the young rabbit would come home and quietly talk to himself in his room, a clear sign that the dilemma occurring at school was progressively getting worse. Bitzi felt compunction as she slid one half of scrambled eggs on each plate with a slice of toast. The sensation was strong but not vehement enough to call herself a failure of a parent. She had attempted numerous times to get Buster to reveal to her what was upsetting him or, at least, to provide her with a couple details about his problem at school. No matter how hard she tried to persuade her son to talk about what was troubling him, he would refuse or hastily change the subject.
Bitzi was getting impatient with the repeated turndowns, but she was in no position to give up. As a mother, it was her job to guide her son on his journey to a bright future; a journey that went through separate phases, beginning with basic education and ending with career decisions. Like an action-filled adventure in a book or movie, obstacles would pop up during this journey, such as financial issues or any type of dilemma that could cause a rift in a relationship, either with friends, family, or future co-workers. That was the situation Buster was facing and he did not want to speak about for reasons both children and adults can understand and relate to. Bitzi guessed that he tried to solve the problem on his own, and, to prevent any major concern, kept the issue to himself, not speaking a word of it to her.
Now that it was patently clear that the situation had dramatically deteriorated and he had entered a quandary, the young rabbit would surely be able to tell his mom everything she needed to know. Bitzi hoped that it was true so she could give her son proper assistance. Although it would finally get rid of her anxiety, Bitzi reminded herself that, in order to obtain the information she needed, she had to be calm and understanding. If she immediately interrogated Buster, he would undoubtedly become perturbed; as a result, he would refuse to talk and retreat to his room.
Bitzi pondered what to ask Buster first as they ate breakfast. At intervals, she would glance at her despondent son, hesitating when and how to start the conversation. It was going to be tough in spite of her belief that he was ready to talk. As long as she could make Buster relaxed and gain her trust, everything would go smoothly.
Bitzi finished her breakfast first and took her dishes to the sink. Buster wasn't even halfway done was his plate of scrambled eggs. As soon as she returned to the table, Bitzi finally spoke to her miserable son. "Buster?"
"Yeah, mom?" Buster asked in a dejected voice.
"Can I ask you something?" Bitzi inquired as she sat in the chair nearest to her son.
"What it is?" Buster asked; he had lifted his head but his eyes were still downcast.
"Buster, I want to know what's bothering you," Bitzi said, placing a hand on her son's shoulder. "You've never acted like this before, it's scaring me. I know something is wrong but I didn't want to make you uncomfortable talking about it; you know?"
Buster sighed and replied, "I do."
"So," Bitzi asked; "are you okay if we talk about it?"
Buster stayed quiet for a few seconds. His eyes still looked down at his half-eaten food as he sighed and replied with: "I don't know."
"I understand that you're going through a lot of emotional distress," Bitzi said; "but not saying anything isn't going to do any good. No matter what it is that's bothering you, you have to tell me so I can help you solve the problem. You don't have to tell me everything now if it makes you feel uneasy. Just give me some hints if you can."
There was yet another period of silence. Bitzi prayed that her son would at least provide her with a couple bits of information, such as the names of other children if it was a serious but common case of bullying.
Her prayers were answered when Buster said, "It's a friend of mine. He's been acting all wrong."
"Okay," Bitzi responded. "What has he been doing that's all wrong?"
"He hasn't been speaking to us; as a matter of fact, he just ignores everybody," Buster stated.
Bitzi nodded her head, signaling to her son that she was listening.
"I've tried again and again to get him to say something," Buster continued; "but he doesn't. He doesn't even look at me; he just stands there with his head looking the other way."
"I remember you once went to the park to talk to some friends. Were you talking to them about the issue?"
"Yes. We're all worried sick about him. We've tried everything but nothing's working."
"How long has this been going on?"
Buster fell silent. He didn't want to explain the whole ordeal to his mother. He was afraid that once she knew everything, the fate of Arthur Read would be deplorably dreadful. Even if he did tell his mother, that wouldn't really matter- the scene of Arthur fighting an older, tougher kid in a boxing ring was undoubtedly seen by both the people in the bleachers and the people watching the tournament on TV. Odds are someone who knew Arthur or his family would have called the police the instant they saw the 8-year old engaging in a physical brawl with another person.
Buster wasn't sure if Arthur was being questioned by the authorities at the moment, but he felt extreme remorse for failing his objective. The potency of the guilt overpowered him and tears formed in his eyes.
Bitzi spotted the tears and asked her son: "Honey, what's the matter?"
"I failed him!" Buster wept. "I wanted to help him the whole time, but everyone kept me away from him! They call him a monster, they said he had no remorse, they shunned him!"
Bitzi hugged her hysterical son. "Calm down, honey," she said, trying to soothe his emotions. "I'll still listen. I'll help you. I promise."
Buster suddenly broke away from his mother with intense force. "No; I can't still and talk!" he cried. "I have to go find him!"
Buster rushed out of the kitchen to his room. He grabbed his backpack and dashed to the door. Bitzi intervened before he could reach for the doorknob. "Buster, stop!" she demanded with anger and concern combined. "Calm down, please!"
The rabbit continued to struggle for one perhaps two minutes before he finally ceased. Exhausted and baffled by her son's behavior, Bitzi escorted Buster to his room, placed the backpack on the floor, and instructed him to lay down. "I'm sorry, Buster, but I think it's best if you stay home today," she informed him.
"But, mom," Buster began; "I have to-"
"Buster, you're not going anywhere!" Bitzi snapped.
Knowing how distressed her son was, Bitzi sighed and, in a softer tone, said, "I know that you want to make everything alright again with you and your friends, but it's not good when you're too worked up over it. I'm still going to help you fix this problem. I'll miss a day at work so we can talk."
"Mom, you can't," Buster objected, referring to her job.
"I think your problem is more important than a day in the office," Bitzi said. "You stay in bed. I'm going to call my work and tell them I can't make it. I'll be back when you're ready to continue our discussion; okay?"
Buster emitted a loud moan before replying with: "Fine."
Bitzi closed the bedroom door so he could cool down in privacy. While she made her phone call, Buster laid flat on his bed, reflecting all the events from his perspective. Over the course of two weeks, Arthur Read, deprived of friendship and inflicted with numerous negative comments, slowly sunk into madness and allowed it to consume him with the use of boxing lessons. Buster was concerned about his friend's mentality and he made a bold attempt to rally up his peers to change their ways so Arthur could change his. After seeing the aardvark beating the living hell out of a cat in front of a cheering crowd, right on live TV, the hopes that his friend could be saved were lost instantaneously; and now that his mother insisted that they would spend time at home to discuss the issue, he wouldn't be able to make contact with his friends until the next day.
Buster stared up at the ceiling, noiselessly cursing himself for not taking the proper steps to help Arthur see the error in his ways and provide him suggestions on how to amend his relationship with friends and family. The boxing event explained what Arthur had been up to after school, and, although he didn't watch the tournament in its entirety, Buster believed that the aardvark had succeeded in defeating his opponents and would now act brutish and callous if someone would attempt to communicate with him. He was at the opinion that if he hadn't told everyone about the incident with the model airplane, if he had instead tried to reason with the aardvark the instant he heard the story, the world wouldn't have lost the amicable, good-natured Arthur Read.
Buster was not the only child who sensed acute repentance that morning, nor was he the only ex-friend of Arthur to have seen him boxing on TV. No; he was one of three.
A conscience-stricken Francine sat quietly as her mother drove her to school. As houses and stores passed by, the monkey contemplated every bad thing she had done to both Arthur and Buster. She couldn't believe how much of a terrible person she was. She was imprudent and injudicious to label Arthur as a rogue and just as unwise to interfere with Buster's attempts to communicate with the aardvark. When word of his offense first broke out, Francine was so outraged that she did not perceive the adverse effect debarring Arthur from every friendship he had would have on everyone involved in the incautious act, including herself. After seeing him batter Binky Barnes until his face was appallingly bloody, self-condemnation hit her with the force of a charging bull, and the guilt impaled her heart like a sword.
Laverne Frensky didn't notice her daughter's despondency during the drive to school. Her eyes were locked on the road and her mind was fixated on the day ahead of her, mostly her job and the family affairs that would follow. She knew nothing of Arthur, the incident with his sister, or the boxing tournament. Like Buster, Francine said nothing about her tainted friend. Though she was extremely distressed over the sinful turn of events, she did not want to send the adults into a panic. But because the tournament had been broadcasted on TV and was surely viewed by parents all over the country, it would only be a matter of time before every parent in Elwood City knew what became of Arthur Read. Only God knew what was to truly transpire next.
After getting out of the car and her mother wishing her a good day, Francine dawdled up the front steps of the school. As she went through the open doors, the monkey wondered who she would meet first that morning and if that person had seen Arthur in the tournament. If it was Muffy, they would most likely spend the entire day chatting about the aardvark's horrific boxing debut. If it was the Brain, chances were good that he would help her devise a plan to persuade Arthur to quit the sport. If it was Buster, Francine had no doubt that he would be so overwhelmed with emotions that there was no telling what his first words or actions might be.
Francine sighed. Hopefully Buster will be able to calm down easily, she thought. I didn't mean for this to happen.
She eventually spotted the Brain walking in her direction. They made their way to a clear spot in the hallway so they could talk privately.
"Francine, have you seen what I've seen?" the Brain asked. "Have you seen the Youth Boxing Tournament on TV last night?"
"Yes," Francine responded. "I only saw the last round, but...I just can't believe Arthur literally beated Binky to a pulp!"
"Neither can I," said the Brain. "It's totally incredible that Arthur could exert a great amount of strength and fury to perpetrate such a heinous assault; not to mention to do so in front of so many people and while TV cameras are rolling."
Francine nodded.
"What truly baffles me is how Arthur managed to get into the boxing ring," the Brain continued. "There is no possible way a person his age could achieve the right to participate in a live sport competition. He would've been denied before he'd gotten in line."
"Well, there's no doubt at all that Arthur was training after school," Francine said.
"I'm fully aware of that," the Brain replied. "The thing is, there are no flaws in my suspicion that Arthur's trainer is behind all this."
"You know who's been training Arthur?" Francine inquired.
"Technically, no; however I have critical information on who the individual is."
"Well, go on, I'm listening."
"Yesterday, my parents and I were downtown doing some shopping. While I waited for my parents to finish one of their errands, I met two young adults who were talking about Arthur. I established my identity to them and they reluctantly told me their story."
"And?"
"Arthur's boxing instructor goes by the nickname of Sharkbite. He's nineteen-years old and a familiar character to the 'Steel Muscles' boxing gym. The men have known Sharkbite as long as their membership, their relationship with him was tense at times but fairly good. When Arthur was brought in, they first reacted with jokes and mockery. When Sharkbite had Arthur signed up for the tournament, their moods changed. They began to worry about Arthur and started openingly voicing their aversion of the decision."
"I'm glad someone tried to knock some sense into him," said Francine.
"Yes, but sadly it proved fruitless as Sharkbite repetitively told Arthur that we were all against him," the Brain continued. "It got to the point that he actually had one of the men go against Arthur in a practice match. The man who did lost was results similar to the match with Binky, minus the blood."
"Dear God," Francine said in a quiet voice. Then she asked in a louder tone: "Is there anything we can do? I know that we can try to talk to him, but is there another way to get our Arthur back?"
The Brain pondered briefly before replying with, "As of now, the most effective situation is to talk directly to Arthur. I can't really imagine an alternative to it. Did you have something in mind?"
Francine shook her head.
"Well, if you do come up with something, let me know first," said the Brain. "We all want to have the old Arthur back, but it's not like he's going to keep boxing for the rest of his life. That's entirely irrational."
"You're right," Francine responded; "but suppose this Sharkbite manages to keep Arthur believing that we're all his enemy. He'll never be the same person again!"
What Francine said was true. Even if they did force Arthur to give up boxing, the aardvark would still hold the belief that everyone he was once a friend to regarded him as a psychopath. He wouldn't just shun them out as they did with him; no, he would be more bellicose than he had ever been to anyone, making warlike threats to random people, accuse them of saying something that angered him, and even throw punches at them if they were bold enough (or foolish enough) to confront him about his wild behavior. This would eventually lead to Arthur's expulsion from school, giving him all the time he wanted to pursue a boxing career, with the obvious cost of his chances of finding a job to support himself being instantly crippled.
Francine and the Brain envisioned Arthur as a savage outcast, feared by all. In their vision, the once lovable aardvark appeared muscular, menacing, even taller than before. Throughout their delusion, they saw their friends beaten and scared and their movements were slow and patently agonizing. Binky Barnes, scarred and black-eyed, cowered as Arthur passed him. Muffy, hair frazzled and one tooth missing, was shoved into the lockers when she pleaded him not to hurt her. Buster was the worst of the three; his right leg was in a cast and he supported himself with a crutch under his left arm, for his right arm was also in a cast. The rabbit sobbed as Arthur approached him. He proceeded to cruelly slap Buster while growling, "Shut the hell up! You're just like D.W.! A whiny, empty-headed bitch!"
When the monkey and bear ended their envisionment, Francine sniffled and said in a sorrowful voice: "We've turned our best friend into a monster. We're the worst people alive."
Francine quietly wept as the Brain placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's not over yet," he told her, his voice held the tones of consolation and confidence. "We still have a chance to pull Arthur out of the hell he was thrown in to. We have the perpetrator and we have the story; but first, we need to find Buster."
The bell rang for first period and the hallways began to clear out. Francine pulled herself together and she and the Brain made their way to Mr. Ratburn's class. On the way there, they were greeted by Muffy and Fern. The two girls noticed Francine's dejection and inquired her about it. She didn't reply, even after they continued to ask what was wrong. They asked the Brain and he said "Francine and I have a little problem on our hands. It's nothing you two should be all worried about."
The group soon arrived at Mr. Ratburn's class and took their seats. Francine and the Brain glanced around the classroom. They could see that only three desks were not occupied. Binky and Buster not being present wasn't that much of a shock under the circumstances surrounding those two- Buster often sleeping in and being late to school, and Binky's condition in the aftermath of the tournament-, but the absence of Arthur was very baffling. He hardly had a scratch on him. Surely he would be well enough to attend school.
The three absences prompted Francine to raise her hand and inquire, "Mr. Ratburn, are Buster, Binky, and Arthur coming to school today?"
"No," Mr. Ratburn stated. "I'm afraid they're all sick and cannot come to school today. It's quite odd since there isn't a sickness going around, but their mothers had called in for them so we'll leave it at that. If there is something we must all be concerned about, it's how many of you did on your pop quiz last Thursday."
Many students in the class groaned as their teacher handed back their quizes, marked with big red Bs and Cs.
Francine and the Brain didn't pay much attention that period. They were both profoundly upset. With Buster not around, they wouldn't be able to concoct a suitable strategy they could all agree on; and now that Binky had been horrendously injured by Arthur on live TV, there was no doubt at all that the worst was yet to come, and Francine feared that she would have a share of the consequences for her role of a major oppressor.
However, during Mr. Ratburn's lecture, both Francine and the Brain asked themselves the same questions. Was Arthur really sick? Was he really home in bed? Was he using his excuse to join Sharkbite in more boxing lessons? And, the most important question of all, would they ever get Arthur to become the same person he once was? With Arthur and Buster out of school, their questions remained unanswered.