(Author's notes: Hey everyone. I'm sorry that this chapter is late. I missed last week, and I forgot that yesterday was Thursday. So here's your chapter at an irregular schedule. I'm going to try to stay on schedule from now on, but I am pregnant and I don't know if I'll be able keep up a chapter a week. I might just skip a week here or there, but I promise not to skip more than one week. Chapters will continue to be posted on Thursdays. Thank you everyone for your support and all the comments. I received a bunch of comments for the last chapter and I'm so happy that this story is being read by so many people. As much as I love my DT17 story, this Darkwing Duck fanfic is far more challenging to me as a writer because I have several plots going on at the same time. Enjoy this next chapter, and I hope to see you again next week.)
Blue Waltz
Chapter 8: Rising Rhythm
Sept. 15 cont.
The courtroom emptied slowly because of the weight of the judge's ruling with the exception of Natalie, who marched out the second the judge was gone. Shocked by the betrayal, Charity's muscles were turned to stone as her brain went to the only possible scenario: Duncan had gotten to her. A judge in his pocket wasn't enough. Without a cooperating social worker, it would look suspicious if the ruling went his way. And somehow, he was able to turn one of Charity's workers, someone who she thought she could trust.
"Charity, what happened?" Gosalyn asked, pulling on her pantsuit.
"Come on," Charity said, grabbing the duckling's hand and pulling her out of the courtroom after Natalie. She didn't bother looking toward the other side of the courtroom. She didn't want to see Drake Mallard's expression, especially after all her talk of helping him.
In the hallway, she caught up to the female duck, grabbing Natalie's arm.
"What the hell was that?" Charity asked angrily.
"I can't talk to you about this," Natalie said, refusing to make eye contact.
"I am you're supervisor. You have to answer to me," Charity insisted.
Natalie shook her head. "Not any more. Duncan said that it's a conflict of interest, so I report to him."
Charity pressed her beak together. "Did he promise you my job? Is that why you're doing what he wants? I thought you were better than this."
For the first time, Natalie turned her eyes onto Charity; they were blazing. "Jimmy needs a new kidney. He had to go back on dialysis."
Charity's eyes widened. "But…I thought his medicine—"
"He went into renal failure last week," Natalie said. Her voice became pleading and there were tears in her eyes. "He's only eight. Duncan promised he could get Jimmy at the top of the transplant list."
"And how many other children worse off than Jimmy are being pushed aside because of it," Charity snapped.
She had been there for Natalie all through her son's disease. She had listened as Natalie described the diagnosis, held her hand as she cried, gave her days off to be with her family and even picked up the slack when Natalie had to go to the hospital to be with her son. Yes, renal failure was serious, but it had happened to Jimmy before. Medicine and dialysis had helped to get his kidneys working again, but because of his condition, he had been on the organ transplant list for almost a year, but since he wasn't terminal yet, he hadn't received a kidney.
"Don't you dare," Natalie hissed. "Don't you dare. You're not a mother. You can't imagine what it's like to have your child laying in a hospital bed hooked up to a machine he relies on to clean his blood. I made this decision knowing I'll have to live with the consequences all my life." She looked down at Gosalyn who had been listening attentively before giving the little girl a pitying look and walking away.
And while Charity wanted to continue to be angry at Natalie for caving into Duncan's demands, she couldn't blame a mother for just wanting to save her child. Not only that, had Duncan threatened Natalie if she didn't comply? If Duncan can move a name up on the transplant list, he may just have the power to prevent one from rising.
At that time, Drake Mallard, his lawyer, and Launchpad left the courtroom. As one, Drake and Gosalyn moved toward each other, but the hawk lawyer stepped in front of his client.
"Let me remind you of what the judge said," the lawyer said with sternness. "If you have any contact with your daughter, there will be repercussions."
Her heart breaking, Charity glanced around, seeing that the hallway was empty of officials. There were only those waiting for their own time in court. "I won't say anything if you don't," she whispered.
Ignoring his lawyer shaking his head, Drake knelt down for one last hug and kiss from his daughter, but they didn't linger.
Charity waited with Gosalyn as they watched Drake and Launchpad exited the building. She couldn't believe how this day turned how. There was supposed to be even the slightest glimmer of hope, even if things didn't go their way. It didn't make sense for Drake to be completely cut off from his child. The only times that happened were in severe cases of physical or sexual abuse.
It made her sick to think that Duncan had this kind of power. But what did he want?
"Come on, Gosalyn. I'm in the mood for some chocolate ice-cream," Charity said, gently taking the girl's hand.
"But…weren't you going to go back to work?" Gosalyn inquired.
Charity shook her head. "I think I need to take the day off. We could go to a matinee movie."
Gosalyn nodded although there was no smile on her face.
Ice-cream and a movie wouldn't make up for the fact that she was kept away from her father, but it was all Charity had to offer.
Duncan stared at his desk where two files were open, one from the DCF's storage in the building's basement, the other filled with freshly printed papers from a personal investigator. Gosalyn Mallard AKA Gosalyn Waddlemyer on the left and Drake Mallard on the right. Both contained interesting reading material.
When the mysterious voice on the phone told him to clean house, Duncan couldn't very well just drop everything and act the perfect civil servant. If he were to abandon every pie he had a finger in, he could be ruined. So, instead of taking the perfectly intelligent advice, he decided to step up his game.
He had been a minor player at best, a middle man in the criminal underworld at worst, but if he wanted to keep up his lifestyle, he would have to run at a higher level. Which is why he began investigating these people of interest, running a gamble that might send him to jail or worse. The risk was worth it.
Gosalyn, the little red-headed girl that was in the middle of things, had had an interesting life. Her biological grandfather was the catalyst in Taurus Bulba breaking out of jail almost two years ago and causing chaos all over the city. And while her name had been omitted from the papers to protect the duckling from unwanted attention, it was all in her sealed file.
It had crossed Duncan's mind that Taurus Bulba could be the voice over the phone. The accent could be a match, but Duncan wasn't a hundred percent sure, especially with the rumors of Bulba's death not confirmed or denied. But if Gosalyn was the real target of the abduction, then those rumors might just be idle gossip.
But then again, why would Bulba want Gosalyn? She was just a little girl, and her grandfather's machine was destroyed. A master criminal like him wouldn't terrorize a little girl just for revenge or was he that petty?
But then there's Mr. Mallard, a single, mild-mannered man, who had adopted a little girl out of the blue. In fact, it seemed as if Drake came out of the blue himself. There were records of him as a child, graduating from high school in St. Canard and getting his degree out of state in Criminal Investigation. After that, he went directly into the SHUSH academy before working for several years for the organization before quitting, and then…Drake Mallard disappeared. At least from the private investigator's stand point. There were no records of Drake working anywhere else in St. Canard, and the post office had no record of a forwarding address. It was as if he didn't exist for years until he bought a house and adopted Gosalyn.
So what was he doing during that time? Did he really quit SHUSH? Or had he been working undercover? It couldn't be a coincidence that he was working for SHUSH again, but as a night guard? That was obviously a cover for something.
Did the person on the phone intended to use Gosalyn to get Drake Mallard to reveal SHUSH secrets? It seemed more likely than a convict coming back from the dead to kidnap a little girl. But there was one more person involved.
Darkwing Duck.
Duncan didn't have a file because there wasn't anything to know about Darkwing Duck. He had made public appearances, posed several times for photographs, video footage, interviews, etc. but outside of what everyone else knew, his private investigator couldn't find a single pinch of information. It was as if Darkwing Duck was just a conceited, egotistical, glory-hogging, ghost. There were rumors that he had a side kick—some said the guy was Darkwing Duck's muscle—but nobody had any information on the guy. There were some blurry photos, but nothing concrete.
Darkwing Duck's secrets were locked away tighter than Fort Knox.
That is, until those photos of Gosalyn and Darkwing Duck came to Duncan's attention. If the girl was that familiar with the super hero, she must know some of his secrets. Could she possibly know who Darkwing Duck was? There had to be someone beyond the mask. It wasn't like Darkwing Duck was an alien or had came from another dimension. He was just a man.
Perhaps that was why the voice on the phone wanted Gosalyn. He could have used her to get to Darkwng Duck, find out where his lair was, find out all his secrets, use her as bait to lure him into a perfectly crafted trap.
Duncan rubbed his temples. Was he really banking his life on this many maybes? Especially ones that sound like a poorly put-together plot for a Saturday morning cartoon? But these were his best theories.
His private investigator was still looking into Darkwing Duck. The man, one of the best, was keeping an eye out for the masked duck, listening in on police scanners and following after the crime-fighter. However, all he had reported back was that Darkwing Duck was investigating a string of robberies. To think, the man that the city had put on a pedestal was working such a menial task. What were the cops doing?
In the meantime, Duncan wouldn't sit around and twiddle his thumbs. He could look into the other leads, find out what he could. With Gosalyn in Charity's custody, he wasn't going to risk interrogating the little girl or even capturing her. He had pushed the supervisor to the limit of what she was willing to tolerate, and if push came to shove, Charity might make enough noise to bring unwanted attention on his head.
However, in the meantime, he could find out more about if Taurus Bulba was as dead as some thought. It would mean using his connections in FOWL, but now was not the time to be timid. If he was going to get through this, he had to call in the big guns.
Sept. 16
The day after the trial, Charity went into work with a fire spurring her onward. She had a goal to figure out more about Gosalyn Mallard, and perhaps get to the bottom of her kidnapping. She had recalled that there was a physical file stored in the basement of DCF. After everything that happened, becoming Gosalyn's foster parent and the trial, she had completely forgotten to look it up. And technically, since she was no longer the social worker on the case, she shouldn't be wasting DCF's time by looking it up, which is why she waited until her break to descend to the bowels of the building to look for it.
While her predecessor hadn't cared much for organization, Charity had used her power as supervisor to make sure everyone kept the filing cabinets in order least that even one file went missing. Which is why when she journeyed into the basement, she found Gosalyn Mallard's file not where it should be. After spending several minutes looking through all the M's—and that was a lot of files—to make sure it just wasn't misplaced, she slammed the last drawer closed before remembering that Natalie was the case worker. The file was probably on her desk.
Returning to her office, she wondered if she should just wait for the other social worker to leave before searching the desk, but realized that Natalie wasn't the enemy. She was just a pawn for Duncan to use. And it would be hypocritical if Charity stooped so low as to snooping.
Instead, she went to Natalie's desk. The female duck looked surprised then suspicious at Charity's presence. "What can I do for you, Charity?" she asked icily.
Charity folded her arms, but realized that made her look angry, and unfolded them again. "I was just wondering if…you have Gosalyn Mallard's file?"
"Why?" Natalie's suspicion deepened.
Not wanting to create an even bigger rift between them, Charity kept her voice calm. "I wanted to know more about Gosalyn's biological family, perhaps if there was a medical history I needed to know about, but when I looked, it wasn't in storage. I am just checking to see if you have it." Okay, a little lie, but it was a legitimate one. It was common for foster parents to want to know about medical records as well as the biological family of their foster kids.
Natalie looked surprise before turning as calm as Charity. "No, I don't have it. Are you sure it's not down there?"
Charity nodded. "I was thorough in my search. Unless someone misplaced it, it's not down there."
Natalie looked worried. "I'll ask an intern to go through the files just to make sure."
"Thank you. Let me know if you find it. And if it's still missing, contact the orphanage that Gosalyn was adopted from. They may have a copy of everything," Charity said.
Natalie made a note on her sticky pad as Charity walked away.
The lovebird was glad to keep things civil between her and Natalie. If things go south even more than it was with Duncan, she didn't need another enemy. But one thing she was certain of, Gosalyn's file wasn't misplaced. She was sure that Duncan must have it.
If Duncan was interested in Gosalyn, then she needed to know why. Natalie would certainly contact the orphanage, but there was another source she could ask.
Technically, she shouldn't be in contact with Drake Mallard, but there was no law against it. In cases where parents aren't allowed to contact their children, nobody has ever said that a foster parent couldn't contact the biological parents because it's a given.
Not trusting the phones, Charity went with her only choice of contact with Drake that couldn't be traced: a letter. But the problem was how to write it in a way that Mr. Mallard wouldn't tear it up on sight, not to mention get him to open up about Gosalyn's background.
After thinking about it, she waited until after hours to write the letter, starting with telling Drake about how Gosalyn was doing and a few things she learned about the little girl before launching into her reasons for writing to him. She kept the last part short and pleading, adding a section about how sorry she was for how the trial went and that she was unable to speak on Gosalyn's behalf as a social worker because she was now a foster parent.
Hoping for the best, she put it in an envelope, addressed it and stamped it before getting ready to leave. On her drive home, she dropped it into a blue mail box on the side of the road. It would be a few days before Drake Mallard would read it and a few days more for him to respond.
Now all she had to do was hurry up and wait, her favorite part.
Before the trial, Darkwing Duck had been mostly focused on getting Gosalyn back. What time he didn't spend on getting a lawyer and brushing up on child law, he was working on the robbery case. He had been right in his theory that more warehouses were being hit, adding more items to his list. It was as if someone had the goal of stealing everything in the world, one night at a time. There was no rhyme or reason to the list, and Darkwing had given up on seeing a pattern.
However, after the trial, Darkwing pushed that aside to concentrate on his daughter's kidnapping case, going to the police to see if they had any leads. They had gone over Ms. Loveatte's car for any fingerprints as well as the house the crow and bulldog had squatted in while pretending to be foster parents. The SCPD found a match to those prints which belonged to Millie and Butch Aldine, a husband and wife who specialized as hired crooks. Their rap sheets covered armed robbery, assault and battery, and breaking and entering. And now, kidnapping.
The police assured Darkwing Duck that their photos would be circulated through all medias, both print and on the news, but it was more likely that they had gotten out of dodge by now. Other than that, they had no other leads.
But Darkwing Duck did. Ms. Loveatte had been correct not to share the information about her boss. When he talked to J. Gander on Wednesday afternoon about Duncan Musman, he got a good idea just who he was going up against.
"A small fish in a big pond," J. Gander said as he pulled out the file. "The man is perfectly happy being a middle man between the goons and corrupt politicians. However, he's been doing this for a very long time. We have our suspicions, but not even SHUSH has any evidence against him."
"What has he done?" Darkwing asked his old partner.
Most people in SHUSH never guessed that at one point, Darkwing Duck had been a SHUSH agent, and nobody would. It had been several years ago and at a different office in a different city that Drake Mallard was a junior agent who had been assigned to work under J. Gander before he received his promotion to direct the St. Canard office.
While Darkwing Duck respected what SHUSH stood for and all the good they did in the world, it just wasn't a career for him. Not long after joining the organization, an official rulebook had been introduced to the agents, and everything was enforced to the T. It had been this rulebook and people like Vladimir Gryzlikoff who embraced procedure like a lover that had driven Drake away from SHUSH. It was only J. Gander that he trusted with his secret as Darkwing Duck in which the two had formed a working relationship that allowed the masked crime-fighter to work on a consultation basis for SHUSH.
"I heard what happened to your daughter. Are you sure Musman is involved? He has never been suspected of kidnapping before," J. Gander wondered.
"I have a reliable source," Darkwing said. Despite all that happened, he trusted Ms. Loveatte. She had been sincere in her words at the hospital, and even though he smarted from her lecture, he was certain she was telling the truth.
"Well, if you are certain, I will give you all the information we have, but I'm afraid it's not much. SHUSH doesn't have time for petty criminals such as him," J. Gander said.
Darkwing almost yelled at his old-time friend for those words. Was kidnapping his daughter a petty crime? But he understood. SHUSH was looking for the big fish, those that posed a great threat to the world, those that wanted to tear down society and create anarchy. In comparison, one little attempted-kidnapping wasn't of interest.
"And Darkwing," J. Gander said before he walked out of his office. "If you need any of our special equipment, all you have to do is ask. For your family, all of SHUSH's resources are at your disposal."
Darkwing smiled. He was hoping J. Gander would make the offer. "As it so happens, there are a few things that I could use."
That Wednesday night, Gosalyn found herself working on her homework at a table decorated with scratches and marker and crayon marks sitting alongside Simon, the young rooster, who was doodling on a piece of paper and waiting for the duckling to finish. Charity had her monthly book club meeting that night and had asked her neighbor, Angie, to watch Gosalyn for a few hours. Angie's son had been ecstatic to have someone to play with even though Gosalyn was five years older than he was.
Angie brought over a pair of plates with three cookies on each with a cold glass of milk. "Are you doing alright, Gosalyn? Need any help?" she offered.
"Naw. Almost done," Gosalyn said, concentrating on the last of her math problems.
Between Charity and Angie, she hadn't been able to slack off on her homework. Her dad was normally absent-minded or too busy solving crimes to do anything but order her to finish her school-work, but these women had nothing but time on their hands as they made sure Gosalyn did every part. If this kept up, she might actually get an A or two on her report card.
"Done," Gosalyn announced, shoving everything in her backpack before taking a bite of a cookie.
"That's great," Angie said, sitting down with her own cookies. "So, has Charity been able to get her car and purse back from the police?"
"Not her car, but she did get her purse back," Gosalyn said through a mouthful.
That week, Charity had been driving around in a rental car that smelled of stale cigarettes and the AC didn't work. However, the kidnappers hadn't touched Charity's purse, not even taken the money out of it, which was lucky for her. She still had canceled her credit cards and would have to wait a few weeks to get new ones.
Angie asked Gosalyn a few more questions, the kind that adults ask kids just to make conversation. Was she enjoying school? What did she like to do? How was she adjusting to living with Charity?
The exact second that Gosalyn put the last bite of cookie in her mouth, Simon was pulling her out of her seat toward his room, ignoring his mother's warning not to yank Gosalyn around.
For once, Gosalyn wasn't the most energetic kid in the room. Simon was practically bouncing off the walls in his excitement at having the duckling over to play.
"We can play with my legos," Simon said, pulling out a large bin full of tiny, little plastic blocks. "Or we can get a board game. I like Sorry, but I get to be green. Green is my favorite color. What is your favorite color?" He was already getting the game out from his closet.
"Uh…I like red," Gosalyn said, looking around Simon's room which was neat and organized, a clear sign that Angie did all the cleaning. It reminded her of Honker's room only with toys and games instead of books and science equipment.
"Do you know how to play?" Simon said, setting up the board with the two game pieces. "The rule is that the youngest gets to go first. That's me. And we roll the dice and if you land on the slide space, you get to slide all the way over here." He continued to explain the rules, not giving Gosalyn a chance to reply to any of his words.
Before she sat down to play with Simon, Gosalyn spotted a bent photo taped to the wall next to a picture of Simon, Angie and a male duck that must have been Angie's husband. The bent photo featured a speckled hen who looked gaunt and thin but was smiling. "Who is this?" Gosalyn asked before she could reign in her curiosity.
Simon looked up before replying. "That's my mom."
Gosalyn already suspected that Simon and Angie weren't related. "You're adopted?"
"I'm a foster kid," Simon said, playing with the game pieces. "Angie and Tim aren't my real parents but I wish they were."
"Why? What happened?" Gosalyn asked.
Simon pulled his legs up to his chest but didn't say anything.
Realizing that it must have been bad, Gosalyn asked a different question. "Are Angie and Tim going to adopt you? That would be great if they did."
"They can't," Simon said, his voice muffled by his knees. "My dad—my real dad—wants me to go live with him."
Gosalyn realized she had stepped into something complicated and wasn't sure how to deal with the situation. Should she keep asking questions? Because she was curious and wanted to know. But if it brought up bad memories, she didn't want Simon to be sad. Perhaps she should draw his attention back to the game?
"I've never met my dad before," Simon said. "I don't want to go live with him. I want to stay with Angie and Tim."
Gosalyn sat next to Simon and put an arm around him. "I want to go back to my dad, so I guess I know a little about how you feel. Do you have to go live with him?"
"I don't know. Angie says they can't stop him, but I won't go. They can't make me," Simon said.
"What about your real mom? Can she make your dad stop?" Gosalyn asked.
Simon shook his head. "She can't do anything. She's in a hospital."
"Is she sick? Is that why you're living with Angie?" Gosalyn asked.
"Angie says Momma is really sick but she won't ever get better. She's sick inside her mind and will never leave the hospital," Simon explained. "She did some bad things and that's when I went to go live with Angie and Tim. That was three years ago."
Gosalyn was starting to feel uncomfortable about this conversation. She had an inclination that the bad things his mother had done might be the reason Simon was in a foster home, but she didn't want to ask the little rooster about the details.
"So, you go first," Gosalyn said, handing over the dice. "And how about if the winner gets to pick the next game?"
Simon's melancholy disappeared in an instant, and he threw the dice. For over an hour, they played games, going from Sorry, to Hungry Hippos, to Go Fish. For Gosalyn, it was strange playing all these old board games. The orphanage had plenty of them, but most of the time they were missing pieces or were in poor condition. Occasionally, the mallards would have a game night with Honker, but her dad preferred word games like Scrabble or Boggle, and Honker liked strategy games like Stratego and Risk, both of these types of games Gosalyn was terrible at. However, once in a while, they would play Black Jack and gamble with candy, to which Drake would always forewarn the kids never to gamble in real life because the House always wins, which was true because Drake usually walked away with most of the candy.
They were in the middle of a game of War when Angie came in.
"Okay, Simon. Time to get ready for bed," Angie said, clapping her hands.
"Awwwww," Simon whined, his beak twisting in a pout. "But we didn't finish our game."
"None of that, young man. I let you stay up almost an hour past your bedtime. It's almost nine o'clock," Angie said. "Plus, Gosalyn needs to go home. Charity is here."
"Bye, Gosalyn," Simon said, hugging the duckling without notice. "Come play with me again."
Gosalyn returned the hug. "Bye." She was already planning on asking Charity if Simon could come over and play on Saturday. The poor kid didn't own any video games, and Gosalyn could introduce him to one of her favorite past-times.
As Gosalyn walked to the living room, Charity was talking to the male duck that was in the picture with Simon and Angie, guessing this was the latter's husband. He must have gotten home while she was playing with Simon.
Gosalyn grabbed her backpack with her finished homework.
"Well, let's get going," Charity said, gesturing to Gosalyn, her hand on the door handle. "Thanks for watching her, Angie and Tim. Let me know if I can return the favor."
"Oh, we intend to," Tim said with a smile. "It's been a long time since I've taken my wife out on a date." He pulled Angie close to him and stole a kiss to her temple.
As Gosalyn and Charity crossed the hallway to their own apartment, Charity stumbled a bit, her gait a little wobbly.
"Are you okay, Charity?" Gosalyn asked, wondering if she would have to steady the adult.
"Oh, sorry. I guess I had a little bit too much to drink," Charity said, straightening her shoulders as if that would sober her. "At book club, some of the women let loose a little too much. I'm glad I took a cab this time."
Gosalyn rolled her eyes. She had known her dad to have a drink once in a while, especially when he was dating Morgana. Or sometimes he and Launchpad would go out with friends and come back a bit tipsy. She never understood why grown-ups liked to drink alcohol and sometimes act like fools. The school's drug programs didn't have to warn her about under-age drinking. She wasn't that interested.
"I guess we both need to go right to bed," Charity said, opening the door to the excitement of Bunny who was hopping around. "Oh, I have to take you for a walk, don't I, boy?" She rubbed his ears as she massaged her temple. "Looks like you get the bathroom first, Gosalyn."
As Charity hooked up Bunny's leash, Gosalyn rushed into the bathroom to take a quick shower. Because the apartment only had one bathroom, they had to take turns. And if Gosalyn wanted to make it to her 9:30 bedtime and see her dad, then she had to rush. By the time Charity returned, she had gotten dressed and brushed her teeth.
"Your turn," Gosalyn said, checking the clock. She had only five minutes before her dad would stop by. "Goodnight, Charity."
Charity yawned. "Goodnight, Gosalyn," she said before going into the bathroom and closing the door.
Heading to her bedroom, Gosalyn almost closed her door over Bunny's middle, the Corgi halfway inside before she noticed he was there. "Do you want to come in, boy?"
She had bonded with Bunny, glad to be part of taking care of an animal, but this was the first time the dog had followed her into her room. Normally he was attached to Charity, even waiting outside the bathroom for her to come out.
The Corgi sniffed all over her room lazily as Gosalyn sat on her bed and waited for Darkwing Duck to knock on her window. She didn't have to wait long, the sound of knuckles on glass causing her to jump to her feet.
Bunny's ears perked up at the sound, looking curious as dogs do when something out of the ordinary happen.
"Dad," Gosalyn whispered as she threw the window up to let the masked hero in. Her arms were already wrapped around his waist before he could get in properly.
"Hi there, Gosalyn. How was your day?" Darkwing asked, sitting on the sill and holding her close.
However, the duckling didn't have a chance to answer as a deep growl interrupted their moment. The Corgi's hackles were up, his tail upright, and his teeth were bared. The dog was normally so placid and calm, plus with his size, Gosalyn never thought that Bunny could be dangerous, but now, he looked fierce.
"Nice, doggy. Good, doggy," Darkwing said, holding onto his daughter tightly. "You never said Ms. Loveatte had a guard dog."
"He's never like this," Gosalyn said, remembering how on their walks Bunny always wanted to greet everyone who passed them, his tail wagging like crazy if anyone stopped to pet him. "I don't know what's wrong with him."
"Perhaps he just doesn't know me. Dogs have to sniff people to know they're friends," Darkwing said with a combination of confidence and nervousness. "Look, I'm friendly. Good boy." He lowered his hand closer to Bunny.
Bunny snapped at his hand, barely missing his fingers, before barking frantically at Darkwing. Gosalyn had never heard the Corgi bark before, and she always imagined it being a yap like a Pomeranian or a Chihuahua. But the Corgi barked as if he were three times his size. He leaped onto the bed, snapping his jaws.
To save himself from those teeth, Darkwing scrambled out the window, inches away from his tail feathers being plucked out.
Bunny continued after Darkwing, even when he was outside, putting his front paws on the sill as he barked and growled.
Gosalyn sprang forward and grabbed the dog's collar, afraid that not only would he get her dad, but the dog might jump out the window to do it. As soon as she touched his fur, he sat down on her bed, still growling.
A few seconds later, Charity burst into the room, a towel around her torso and her hair dripping. "What's going on? What is Bunny barking at?" She looked worried.
"Uh…" Gosalyn opened her mouth before she even knew what to say. She quickly summoned a lie. "Something flew into the window. I think it was a bat or a bird. And that's when Bunny went crazy."
Bunny looked out the window, growled, then turned to Charity and whimpered as if saying that wasn't true.
"Are you sure?" Charity asked, heading over to Bunny and petting his head. "There wasn't somebody outside?"
"How would I know? We're on the third floor," Gosalyn said nonchalantly, hiding her nervousness.
But despite what Gosalyn said, Charity knelt on the bed and looked out the window, her eyes glancing downward in the night. "It's just…that's so odd," she said almost to herself.
"What is?" Gosalyn asked automatically.
Charity shook her head then closed the window and locked it. "Bunny never barks. Except…He's always been a quiet dog. And that's saying something for a Corgi." She looked to Bunny who was still whining and looking back at the window. "Gosalyn, please keep the window locked. If…something else hits your window again, tell me."
"Okay," Gosalyn agreed but wasn't sure why.
"Come on, Bunny. Gosalyn needs to sleep. I'm sure she doesn't need your snores keeping her awake," Charity said, her nervousness gone.
Bunny made some grumbling noises before hopping off the bed and following his mistress out the door.
"Goodnight, Gosalyn."
"Goodnight, Charity. Goodnight, Bunny."
The lovebird switched off the light and closed the door. A few seconds later, Gosalyn heard the shower turn on again. At that, she opened the window, sticking her head out.
"Dad," she whisper-shouted into the night.
"Right here," Darkwing said, lowering himself down with his grappling gun. "Are you sure you're safe with that monster living with you?"
"Bunny isn't a monster," Gosalyn defended. "He's usually so sweet. Even Charity was surprised with what he did."
"Do they even allow animals that big in apartments?" Darkwing asked.
Gosalyn wasn't sure if he was joking or not. "He weighs less than thirty pounds. He's not that big."
"You didn't get to look at his teeth," Darkwing said with a swipe of his hand across his forehead. "They must be six inches long."
Now she knew her dad was exaggerating.
"Where were we?" Darkwing asked, this time remaining only on the window sill. "You were going to tell me about your day."
Sept. 17
Jessica Barker slammed the door behind her as she left her house for school, trying to block out the argument her parents were having that reverberated in her mind. Why did they have to fight so much? It seemed as if they hated each other. And if either one purchased something, the other would yell at them for wasting money, even if it was necessary. Even if it was for something Jessica needed.
But it was their fault. They were hateful, spiteful people. It was no wonder they couldn't get good jobs, which was another reason they argued.
And there were days that Jessica hated them. No, that wasn't fair. She loved them, but she hated that they argued, that they were mean and ignored her. It was all their fault she wasn't happy anymore. It was their fault that she was getting bad grades—which they ended up arguing about as well. She wished that they could just get along.
No, that would never happen. Well…it possibly could. Geraldine's parents went through counseling, and they no longer argued. They only got a divorce and now they're happy. Would that happen to Jessica's parents?
She didn't want it to happen. She didn't want to think about it. If only she could just get away from that house. Oh, school was fine, but it wasn't enough time. She wanted to get away, go somewhere that she didn't have to do anything, didn't have to worry about things like parents or school or money.
"Jessssssicaaaaaaaaaa," the wind whispered her name.
She turned around, her eyes darting over the street. Was there a shadow between those two buildings? No, that was just a trick of the light. There was nothing there.
"Jessssssicaaaaaaaaa."
There was her name again, whispery and secretive. She looked around, but there was nobody on the sidewalks except an elderly couple walking on the other side of the street.
"Is somebody there?" Jessica asked, feeling foolish for being so jumpy.
"Poor, Jessica. Trouble at home?" It was the voice, the one that sounded like the wind, but now it was clearer.
"Who's there?" Jessica said, grabbing the straps of her backpack and holding on tight.
"Somebody who knows what it's like to be forgotten. I know what it's like to want to get away from the hate and anger," the voice said sympathetically.
Even though "stranger danger" had been drilled into her since she could talk, Jessica went closer to the voice. Getting an idea of where it was coming from, she went to the alley between the two buildings and the shadow she had seen earlier. In the darkness, she could make out a person.
"Do you want to leave it all behind?" the voice asked. "Just for a while. Just enough time to make your parents worry."
Jessica was intrigued but she shook her head. "I don't want to worry them. They would just fight about it."
"But it's good for parents to worry about their children once it a while. It reminds them how precious they are," the voice said, comforting and soothing. "When they see that you're gone, they'll work together to find you. They'll stop arguing. They'll think only of you."
Jessica smiled. It did sound nice. "But I won't stay away for long. I'll come back after a while. Just long enough for them to miss me and then they'll be nice to each other."
"Yes, that's it," the voice said. A hand reached out and Jessica took it. "Just long enough to scare them."
Jessica smiled as she was pulled into the shadows, thinking about how nice it would be once her parents were happy and smiling, like they had been not that long ago. She was thinking so much about this image that she didn't hear the voice's next words.
"Or for you to forget about them."
