A/N: Hey now, got another chapter for The Glass is Half Empty.
Allen's off trying to score brownie points with lil' miss engineer as the dishwasher again, so this'll be a shorter intro. sigh…gotta do the disclaimer myself now…
I don't own Xenosaga, and if anyone doesn't realize that this far into the fic…well, I shake my fist at them! ^_^
And I'd like to thank everyone who's reviewed so far! Even though the pleasure of writing is more than enough for me, they make me feel special. ^o^
And back to where we left off…
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The Glass is Half Empty: the life of Allen Ridgeley
Chapter 6: Let me forget about today until tomorrow
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Though I know that evenin's empire has returned into sand,
Vanished
from my hand,
Left me blindly here to stand
But
still not sleeping.
My weariness amazes me,
I'm branded on my
feet,
I have no one to meet
And
the ancient empty street's too dead for dreaming.
Then take me disappearin' through the smoke rings of my mind,
Down
the foggy ruins of time
Far past the frozen
leaves,
The
haunted, frightened trees,
Out
to the windy beach,
Far from the twisted reach of
crazy sorrow.
Yes, to dance beneath the
diamond sky
With one hand waving
free,
Silhouetted by the sea,
Circled by the circus
sands,
With
all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves,
Let me forget about today
until tomorrow.
Hey! Mr. Tambourine
Man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no
place I'm going to…
~Bob Dylan, "Tambourine Man"
*******************************************
He had a week left until he was to leave for Bormeo, and his Grandfather's assistant had already packed bags for him. Allen's face remained as devoid of emotion as it had been for nearly a month as he straightened his tie in the mirror. Perfect Windsor knot…just like he had taught him when he was fourteen and going to his first dance…
Today he would be going to the reading of the will along with his parents…it would be the only time they would spend willingly with him for their entire stay at his grandfather's manor. His brother Jon and sister Anna had already gone back home, bored of putting up the appearances of civility towards their younger sibling.
His mother appeared at the door, with a scowl on her face when she looked at her son. "Why must you take forever to get ready?! We're leaving now. If you don't want to walk, you had better not make the driver wait any longer." She paused for a moment, putting one velvet-clad hand to a cheek. "You know your grandfather would be heartbroken by this behavior if he was still alive to see it." A malicious smile spread across thin crimson lips as Allen's face showed exactly the reaction she had been aiming for. She spun on her heel and clicked down the hall in short steps.
"Surprised you haven't gone dancing on his grave yet, you cynical, old hag…I hope you get exactly what you want out of the reading today, so you leave his memory alone and in peace. How dare you even mention him…" He grabbed his coat and bustled out of the room, stopping in his tracks as he passed the framed picture on the wall outside of his door. He had been several years younger then, when they had spent the summer at his grandfather's beach house. Allen closed his eyes, and he swore he could still feel the sting of the salt spray on his face and the gentle rocking of the waves beneath the boat. He gave a small smile. That was the one day they had gone out and not caught a single fish. So his grandfather took him out to the fisherman's wharf and had one of the men take a picture of them beside one of the larger catches of the day.
When he opened his eyes again, they were burning, but Allen still couldn't cry. All of his emotions seemed to be sunken behind the empty void that had filled his thoughts. He had blown off any attempts that his friends made at cheering him up, choosing to sequester himself in his room with the readings for the upcoming school year. It had been a week since their last attempt. A tiny fragment of guilt had welled up within Allen, but if he succumbed to that, the floodgates would burst forth. There would be no more hiding from his grief, from the deep-seeded pain in his heart. He couldn't care, he wouldn't care anymore…It hurt too much. His friends would have to move on, just like he was. Life was a bitch; you dealt with it on its terms, either learning to accept the constant barrage of pain or getting swept away in the torrent of emotion.
Giving the photo of a final glance, Allen tore his eyes away.
The picture was still smiling.
*******************************************
Matthias Talbot was a round, jovial-looking man, who had a ready smile that belied his shrewdness both in the courtroom and out. Today, he resembled a solemn Santa Claus in three-piece tweed. He faced the task of reading the will of his longtime friend and client, Jonathan Ridgeley. A bitter smile spread across his face as he arranged the papers on his desk. At least those two bratty kids of his should get a rather…pleasant surprise today… He looked up as Eleanor, the deceased's daughter, entered the room, depositing the lipstick-stained cigarette in the marble ashtray on his desk. He walked forward and the two embraced.
"How have you been coping, Eleanor?"
"Oh, Mattie…I just can't believe it. Papa was always so much more vibrant—more alive—than the rest of us. How can he be gone?" Her eyes were rimmed with running mascara, and for once in her life, she didn't seem to care.
They separated and she seated herself as the other three family members walked through the door. Jon, Jr. and Francesca took seats immediately in front of the desk, while Allen chose one off to the side in the back.
The rather portly lawyer turned to the gathered relatives, adjusting his spectacles as he spoke. Three pairs of ears focused in on him, while a fourth tuned out the whole matter.
"First of all, I want to extend my deepest sympathies and condolences to each of you." His eyes paused on Allen. "I'm sure that this has been a very difficult thing to endure." He looked down at the papers in his hand.
"Now, down to business, I suppose. As I am certain that all of you gathered here know, the late Jonathan Ridgeley left behind quite a sizeable estate…both from his company and investments. However, I must reveal that Mr. Ridgeley had his will rewritten a little over a year ago. It was his wish that I keep this information in confidence until his passing." Talbot cleared his throat and began to read.
On this morning, of the thirteenth day of April in the year 4760, I, Jonathan Ridgeley, hereby dictate my last will and testament.
Throughout the short span of my life, I have worked hard and acquired much, my wife and children being my greatest treasures.
To my wife, Elaine, I pray that I will be with you shortly.
To my dear daughter Eleanor: life has brought you so much unhappiness. I hope that you reawaken your heart to the world. Life is far too short to pass up any chance of contentment. I leave you with your current trust, as well as the summer house that you loved so much as a child. May it bring you many fond memories. If you should happen to find that someone with whom you truly want to share your life, I also give you my most sincere blessing.
To my son Jonathan and his family, I leave you with nothing but what you already have—the investments made in your name shall remain, as well as your bitterness towards me. I am afraid that I have failed you, my son. It is far too late to amend my wrongs in letting you grow into the world like this, but I hope my actions will at least salvage the hearts and humanity of you children. I have left endowments for their education, which I hope they now decide to pursue. The trust in their names will only be made available to them upon the receipt of their first paycheck from a job acquired due to their own merit in academics.
Finally, to my youngest grandchild Allen, I leave you with this: never have I encountered another person so cable of love, so compassionate towards his fellow man. You have been more of a son and a friend to me than a grandson, and I thank you for making a lonely old man's life more worthwhile. You will always have my love, and I will keep my promise to be there…whenever you need me. I leave you the bulk of my estate, my fifty percent share of the company, and the boat we took out on so many happy days. My vice-president is currently retaining control of my company until your 21st birthday. Then, you are free to decide upon taking executive control. Choose your own path, my dear child. Make your own fortune in life by changing the lives of others for the better.
I love all of you dearly, and I pray you remember me with warmth in your hearts.
"Signed Jonathan Ridgeley, April 13th, TC 4760…"
Jon Jr. slammed his fist down on the table and jumped up, eyes burning with anger. "What the hell is this?!"
Talbot stood and raised his arms in a calming gesture. "Please calm down, Mr. Ridgeley." He reached to place an arm on the agitated man's shoulder.
Jonathan moved back angrily. "How can this be? After putting in all those years dealing with the old man's sappy bullshit, after spending my childhood in that…that hellhole of an apartment…that bastard takes in my ungrateful brat of a son, spoils him, treats him better than—"
There was a sudden silence as the resounding echo of a slap slowly diminished.
Eleanor stood in front of her brother, eyes full of tears and cold with fury. Her shoulders shook with barely contained rage, and Jonathan slowly turned back towards her, half of his face bright red and beginning to swell.
Francesca jumped up and gently ran her fingertips over her husband's cheek. She turned to Eleanor, grabbed her roughly by her upper arms, and began to shake her roughly and scream, spittle flying between porcelain teeth. "You bitch! How dare you touch him!"
Eleanor pulled from her grasp and stepped back. "He has no right to speak of our father that way…NONE!!" The tears were now coursing freely down her cheeks. She smiled bitterly. "Face it, Jon…it's our own fault that we became so twisted. It's our fault for our greed, for our selfishness…How could you speak ill of our father's kindness, when he never did anything but love us?"
Shouting
began vaulting back and forth, volume escalading into a cacophony of distraught
words. Allen sat holding his head in his hands, shaking it back and forth,
slowly at first and then more violently.
Stop it…just stop…stop it…stop
it…stop it…STOP IT…
"JUST STOP IT!!!!"
The four adults stopped and stared at the young man, who had leapt to his feet and shouted at the top of his lungs. When he opened his eyes, they were a dangerously calm shade of blue. As he spoke, Allen's words were quiet and level.
"Stop your fighting. Even if you hate how this whole matter ended up, there's no way to change it. And I won't stand by and let you speak that way about Grampa. Not now. Not ever. Aunt Eleanor…Thank you." He turned toward his parents. "As for you…I have lived with your abuse, with your cruelty, with your harsh words for my entire life…I will not take another second. As long as I'm still breathing, you will never see another penny of my grandfather's money, and I never want to see or hear from you again." He took Eleanor's hand, gave it a comforting squeeze, and walked out of the room.
He paused outside of the door and leaned against the wall. "He's gone…really gone…and he's never coming back…"
His eyes burned once more, but this time he felt wetness slowly running down his face. He touched the trails with his fingertips, looking at them confusedly.
The tears had finally come.
*******************************************
Three months went by. Allen spent most of his time on his grandfather's boat, having deferred his acceptance to Bormeo. The days came and went in the steady flow of the stream of time, but he seemed to be in suspension, a repetition of mundane details week after week.
Nights were empty, boring in their solitude. Allen began to take to frequenting bars at night, trying to drink away his miseries and succeeding in only dulling his pain for a while. Nights became weeks became months, until reality no longer had any meaning for him.
In the early hours of one morning, months of exhaustion and abuse took their toll as Allen passed out outside of a bar after being physically removed by the owner. The last thing he remembered was how hard the cement felt against his cheek, and how wind was beginning to blow.
He awoke two days later in somewhat familiar surroundings. The painting of the desert on the wall, the obsidian desk in the corner, the cheap plastic clock they had won at that fair…
Basil walked into the room, carrying a glass of water and wearing a wry smile on his face. "Mornin', beautiful."
Allen opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a dry croak. Had he vomited in his stupor? That would explain the raw soreness in his throat and the horrible taste throughout.
His friend pulled up a chair beside the friend. He handed Allen the water and two pills. "Here. Take these. They'll help with the pounding I'm sure you have in your temples right now." Allen complied. "You know, I lied before. You actually look like shit."
Allen smiled weakly and managed a "Thanks."
Basil stood and walked to the door, pausing to look back with his hand on the frame.
"I'm glad they found you, man. I'll talk to you more once you're feeling up to moving around the place."
*******************************************
The two men sat across from each other at Basil's kitchen table. Allen had just managed to get down a bowl of soup, and was now fiddling with the spoon and empty bowl.
Basil had his hands clasped on the table in front of him. "I suppose there's really no sense in me beating around the bush is there?"
Allen sighed and put the spoon down. "You never used to before, so I guess not."
"Why, Allen? Why did you cut yourself off from everyone? Why didn't you come to any of us if things were this bad off? It's been nearly a year and a half since all of us were together…"
"It was…it was my problem, is my problem." He crossed his arms and stared out at the street through the window of Basil's apartment. "I don't need anyone's help, and I sure as hell don't want their pity…"
"Cut the bullshit, man!" Basil's dark eyes were alit with a rare ire. "Do you even know that you almost died the other night? You almost died…" He rose and walked to the window that Allen had been focusing on. "They had to pump the vomit out of your lungs and resuscitate you before they even pumped the rest of that poison out of your body. You're lucky to even be alive."
Allen's body went cold at his friend's words. "What are you…I did?"
"Yeah. They contacted your aunt first thing, but she was out of town. I was the first one of the guys that she was able to get a hold of. The others were here until this morning…not too long before you woke up actually…they'll be back later to see how you're doing."
They stood in a silence that stretched for several minutes.
"How could you guys still…you know…after I was such a prick for so long?"
It was Basil's turn to sigh. He clapped a hand down on Allen's shoulder. "Whether we're really your brothers by blood or not, we're still your family…like it or not—"
There was a sound of footsteps in the hall. "That's right, brainiac. Besides," Miles's grin came into view, "what would we do without ya there to be our buffer."
Yuji walked in next. "Yeah. These guys have been practically rippin' me to shreds without you to tone 'em down…"
Michael was the last to walk in. "And although that's been immense fun, we need you to make us five again…" He smirked and scratched the back of his head. "And because you still owe me fifty bucks from the last time we played poker."
For the first time in a very long time, Allen smiled and heard an odd sound that shocked him. He was laughing again. And it felt really good.
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Okey dokey, another chapter. Gonna probably wrap up most of the flashback stuff in the next one.
And after that…who knows? ^_^
Thanks for your diligence in reading, and a special thanks to all of the reviewers:
GoldenSunSheba: I'm so evil killin' off Granddaddy Ridgeley like that…shame on me, eheheh…thanks for always leaving such fun reviews! ^o^
Meryl Rainia: Yay! New reviewer! *glomps* Hope this shtuff was worth the wait for ya! ^_^
Basketcase: Hey, no need to apologize! I know all too well the guilt of erm…forgettin' to review and all. Writing's tough work, but reading the 'fics and coming up with responses to 'em ain't much easier! =P Thanks for takin' the time!
Zero Tribal: Aww…I never could stand up against puppy dog eyes…darn, ya got me! Here's an update, then. ^.^ I'm glad you're likin' the story!
ExMachina: Woot! I got fans! Literally! heh, thanks again for reviewing!!
And to all of the other readers, I just hope you're able to sit down with this story for a little while, forget where you are or where you're from, and just enjoy it!
*POOF!!*
Chibi Allen: I'm back—Hey!! You started the fic without me!
uh-oh…o_O um, ya see…I er, uh…OH MY GOD IT'S A FLYING KUMQUAT!!
Allen: Huh?! Aaaah!! Exotic fruits!!" *o*
…
…wait a sec, there's no kumquat…hey, where did she go? ?_?
Allen: Anywho, please read and review! Or just read…or skip the story and leave a review that makes no sense…or kinda stare blankly at the page until you start to see these really fuzzy colors and—
*BONK!*
*standing over unconscious Allen, wielding deadly kumquat…of doooooom!!*
Er, it was for his own good…
Allen: @_@ uunnnnhh…