Unfinished Business
by Roaming Tigress
Chapter Twelve:
A Happy Ending
Bushroot survived dat night of de final confrontation, but 'is memory would never be de same. He fuhgot ev'ryt'ing about de incidents of dose incidents, but, would 'e 'ave forgotten me as well? I didn't want to imagine what would 'appen if he didn't.
One chilly afternoon in February, I decided ta stop in at de 'ospital while on a woik break. Dere was a snowstorm, but I would not let de weather get in de way. Bushroot was too important. He 'ad no livin' relatives and no friends apart from Spike and I. De Fearsome Five 'ad all but forgotten 'im, but I wouldn't. He visited me when I was in de 'ospital, and I saw no reason as to why I shouldn't pop in ta say 'ello.
"Bushroot . . . It's me, Steelbeak . . . " I whispered, kneeling down by his bed side. De hit to de 'ead was a 'ard one, and ta tell youse de truth, I really didn't expect him to remember me. Dere was no response, but I remained optimistic. I smiled as he opened dose pretty eyes of 'is.
"Steelbeak . . . ?" He murmured, almost inaudibly.
"De doctors say yer doin' really good. You'll be comin' 'ome at de end of de week!"
"Good to hear it . . . " Bushroot replied tiredly, touching my hand and drifting off to sleep. The medications dat dey gave 'em would've been enough ta knock out a hoid of rhinos. "I'm being very well looked after here, Steelsie. The food stinks, but the nurses are real cute!"
Now dat is a good sign if I ever saw one!
"Not as cute as youse!" I chuckled, placing a kiss on dat cute little bill of 'is. "Soon enough you'se'll be up on yer feet, tendin' to yer botanical buddies!"
De visit was a brief one, but fer Bushroot, it made all de difference in 'is recovery. I wish dere was more dat I could do fer 'im, but he appreciates what I do in any case.
On de way back 'ome, I found out on de radio dat Javert would be locked up in jail fer twenny years. Not jus fer what 'e's done ta me, but fer what he's done ta other people. Some were not as lucky as I was, and If it were up ta me, I would've gave 'im de death penalty. In twenny years time, he would be out and get back to de business of killing.
Javert was one t'ing, but my parents were another. De scars of de would never heal, but dere were t'ings dat 'ad to be settled. After a little bit of searchin', I found both my father and mother at St. Canard Harbor Park. I approached dem casually, pretendin' dey weren't even dere.
As I brushed past Roberto, I raised my hand, and struck my mother across de face. She stumbled back into my shocked father's arms and began to hyperventilate. I showed no mercy, no pity. Dat smack was nothin' in comparison to what she did to me.
"If youse t'ought dat was bad, look back thoidy-five years ago when youse t'rew me down de stairs fer breaking a vase."
"That was in the past, son!" Roberto snapped, raising an arm to take a swing at me. I was shocked as I watched Amelia gently held his arm down.
"Why didn't you stand up for yourself when I beat you?" Amelia asked sorrowfully, trying to shut out the tears that threatened to come pouring out. She tried desperately to hide 'er emotions, somet'ing in which I inherited from 'er.
Somet'ings cannot be answered, mother. Just what 'ave I got myself into dis time?
"I . . . I don't know . . . "
"You're too much of a coward, that's why!" Roberto spat, watching every move I made. I suppose he expected me ta break 'er neck like she said. Or, maybe like the coward he thought I was, turn tail and flee. I would do neither.
"Wrong again, dad . . . "
"Don't give me that crap, son. I saw you - "
"SHUT UP!" I roared, pounding the table with my fist hard enough to split the wood from one side to de other. My temper sided as quickly as it appeared, but none-de-less, I frightened my parents. Amelia was literally shaking with fear and clutched Roberto's hand for comfort. It wasn't long until 'er bottled emotions came out from seclusion.
Son, if I knew I'd mess your life this badly . . .
"I 'ave conquered my fears," I told dem proudly, refusing to break eye contact. I forced Amelia into a against a wall, making it clear dat de one who had the upper hand now was me. "It took me four decades, but it was done. You may 'ave destroyed my childhood, mother, but youse hadn't destroyed my spirit. Dat is somet'ing no one kin do."
As she cowered, I took a step back and left de couple to deir miserable existence. I couldn't help but to t'ink dat, not so long ago, dat was me cringing.
I 'ave beaten de odds - - and it showed. I faced my fears, and learned dat some t'ings are worth fightin' fer.