General Disclaimer: The Mighty Ducks, Wildwing, Nosedive, Tanya, Grin, Duke, Mallory, Police Chief Klegghorn, Mookie, and Thrash are all property of Disney, and used without permission. Lestat, Amber, and Mara are copyright © Amber VanDrake 2004, and used with permission. The story and all other characters are copyright © JetherWing 2004.
Author's Note: Well, as usual, I have the ideas for the stories but with school and work it has taken me a while to add this on. I want to again send a big thank you to Amber VanDrake for helping me with the editing and encouraging me—she's taught me that if I want to do something, then I better give it my all. Thanks, Amber! And thank you, kind reader, for continuing to read on after all this time. This section is rated R for language and content. Enjoy!
Echoes of the Unspoken: Part 2
The sky looked plain blue from where they were heading, but behind them white clouds lingered. Not that there was anything to complain about—there would be clear skies all day in beautiful downtown Anaheim, according to the weather report. Nevertheless, Nosedive regretted going out without a jacket—he hunched his shoulders as if anticipating wind.
"Wing didn't get any sleep last night."
Nosedive jumped at the sound of Lestat's voice—even though Lestat spoke in Duke and Mara's direction, Lestat always pitched his voice in a certain tone when he wanted Nosedive to hear him.
Mara stretched. "Too bad…it's a hell of a nice day out!"
Glad that Mara inadvertently changed the subject,
Nosedive chimed in, "So—
anyone up for the beach later or something?"
"I am," answered Lestat, to Nosedive's surprise. Usually Dive let anything that Lestat said roll off his back, but just hearing his voice made him more irritable than usual today. "I got some tan lines on my ass that I'm just dying to get rid of!"
"Nothing doing, Stat," Dive found himself retorting. "Wouldn't be able to tan that ass with the shadow of some fat man all over it, buddy boy."
Mara and Duke laughed in pretend contempt, and Nosedive laughed with them for the first time since this morning.
Duke looked in Nosedive's direction and clapped him on the back. "Hey, good to see ya smile, kid! Rough night?"
Nosedive nodded quickly and did not make eye contact. He could see the smiling super-hero sign of the Captain Comics Shop. He quickly thought of an excuse—a comic that he would want, or maybe a band shirt that just came in.
"Man, you and Wing," Lestat added, shaking his head. "What happened to you guys last night anyway?"
Nosedive quickened his pace. Maybe Thrash and Mook would have some leftover triple spice tacos for him—that would make him feel better. Though he did hear once—maybe from Tanya or Mallory—that greasy, fatty foods made you tired and unfocused: that was why no one ate take-out on the day of a game. In that case, maybe he should get a triple espresso. He wasn't sure, really—he did not know whether he wanted to sleep or stay awake. Suddenly the tacky colors of the sign hurt his eyes.
"Um, ok, so we'll meet you in the store, right kiddo?"
Nosedive turned around to see at least thirty feet between him and the other three. Now the whole damn sun hurt his vision—he put his hand over his eyes. Duke shrugged his shoulders at him, smiling in amused surprise. Mara waved her arms, and slowly worded Nosedive's name as if she were in the vacuum of space.
Nosedive did not want to walk back towards them, towards the white clouds. He faltered for a minute, managed a laugh and quickly added, "Uh—sorry there guys. Nature calls, ya know?"
He immediately turned away, not caring what Lestat would say, though he could hear him snickering even from that distance.
And it was a good thing that he stood right next to the entrance of the store. Suddenly his stomach felt strange, the weight coming back and filling him like an empty stone. And then the muscles cramped together and he knew he had to get to the bathroom—fast.
Nosedive entered the Captain Comics Shop, not noticing Thrash and Mookie as he passed. He made a mental note to thank them later for not locking their private bathroom facility.
Mookie's eyes flashed when she saw Lestat. "Hey Lestat, how's it hanging, dude?" She reached over for a high five.
"Like a bull, baby," Lestat answered, returning her high five. Mookie rolled her eyes and Thrash laughed loudly, shaking his head. He began to sort through the cardboard boxes behind the counter; Thrash and Mookie always let Lestat have first ganders at the new merchandise before they put it on shelf.
"You are entering a world, where common sense, has no meaning…" Mara said in a monotone.
"You mean the Twilight Zone?" Thrash answered, jumping up.
"No, I meant the Lestat Groupie Club, but close enough."
"True dat," Thrash answered, handing Lestat a black tee shirt. Lestat smiled his thanks and unfolded it. He laughed. "Aw, wicked, guys! It's a shirt with the Phishman logo on it…say, Dive would really like this…" Lestat then cleared his throat when he saw Duke smirking at his hidden kindness. "I mean, Dive's the one who should see this first—was never into this kinda crap myself….when he comes back from wherever he is…he's in the can right?"
"Think so," Mookie answered. "Didn't look so good."
"Oh I know what you mean, sister," Lestat answered, staring at the shirt. Mookie expected him to say something that would involve bashing Dive's appearance, but he said nothing else. After considering the shirt a little more, Lestat said softly, "Maybe you should let him keep it…you know…he could become your walking Phishman tool."
He turned to Duke. "Say old man, you here for the initiation rights of the Lestat Groupie Club, or do you have another reason for being here?"
Duke shrugged, looked away fast. "Just thought the kiddo could use some company today is all." He gestured his thumb towards the bathroom, and Lestat knew that Duke was straining his hearing, listening to the sounds of vomiting. "Him and Wing."
A deliveryman entered the store, carrying three brown food bags. Mookie got out her wallet and Thrash went to the fridge.
Lestat nodded again, almost impatiently. "Yeah I know, dude, I said that before. I tried to go into Wing's room that morning, you know, to see how he was doing, and stuff, but he seemed alright…to me. At least, he said he was."
Duke glanced at Mara, then back at Lestat. "Yeah, well I know this sounds like I'm jumping to conclusions and all real early, but when I went in Wing's room today—''
"What business you doing in Wing's room, boy?" Lestat's voice had undertones of playfulness, but Duke didn't hear them.
"I said I went into Wing's room and I saw that something was missing—on his nightstand next to the alarm clock—''
"Yeah, man, but why the hell would you—''
"Because he was acting funny okay?! Jesus yo!" Duke's sudden moodiness caught Lestat off guard. He kept his eyes on Duke, trying to establish eye contact, trying to look tough by not backing down from his inquiry. He was about to ask again, but when he saw that Duke wouldn't look away from him, he felt childish for trying to stare down an older member. He felt a hot blush coming to him as he knew that Thrash, Mookie, and Mara had heard Duke's outburst. The deliveryman had left by then, and Thrash fumbled with the brown bags.
"Hey dudes…I know what'll cheer the Divester up," he said, quickly getting out what was in the bag. "Nice hot mexicana and some cold beer to wash it down! Whoa, shouldn't of said that with the rents around!" He winked at Mara and Duke.
"Yeah that'll do it," Mara replied, when she noticed that neither Duke nor Lestat would answer Thrash. "I mean, nothing like a depressant to chase the blues away."
Thrash laughed, and so did Mookie and Mara. Duke tried to stifle something, but Lestat only folded his arms are looked down at the floor moodily.
Mara took Duke's hand. "Maybe we should get going…Lestat can stay here, and we can see how Wing's doing, okay?" Duke could tell by the way that she gripped his hand that she was not asking. He sighed, running his hand through his bangs as he heard flushing coming from the bathroom. "Ok, then…uh, keep an eye on Nosedive, alright 'Stat? Lestat?" When he looked up, he saw Lestat listening to his headphones so loud that they could hear the music with his back turned to them. Mara only gestured to the door, and she and Duke left.
"Uh, take care guys," Mookie called loudly, unwrapping her burrito from the bag. She waved conspicuously as a signal to Lestat that they were on their way out. Lestat only shifted his eyes to the side then looked back at the walls, pretending to concentrate on the band shirts hanging there.
Thrash clapped Lestat on the back—hard.
"Aw cheer up, little dude," Thrash said, pretending not to notice that he knocked the headphones off Lestat's head. "Here, chow down." He handed Lestat a greasy taco. Lestat looked at it, shrugged, then took a small bite from it. He looked down at it again contemptuously, then at Thrash and Mookie. After giving them a nod, he ate the rest of it.
Nosedive came out of the restroom, his feathers looking a little drab, his hand wiping his beak. Thrash and Mookie smiled in his direction, and Lestat even managed a little wave. When Nosedive saw the sight of the food, he shook his head and then fingered weakly through the comics. He felt something on his arm, a shadow over him. He jumped, turned around, instinctively putting his hand by his side, but it was only Mookie standing there behind him with a pained look on her face from his expression.
"Whoa, hey Mookie, didn't notice you there…say any you guys got a breath mint? I just blew chunks—you know how that goes…must be a flu going around, huh?"
Mookie smiled. "Yeah, it's that time of the year," she said, handing Nosedive a piece of gum. Thrash thrust a frosty can of beer in Nosedive's face. He looked up, surprised.
"Sorry, man, but that's all we got—we know you're underage, but what the hell right man?" he winked. Nosedive took the can, perplexed, but he did not open it. He wasn't in the mood for beer—he wanted water. They always kept water around there somewhere, he was sure.
"Hey, where you been all my life, eh baby?" Lestat pointed out the way Nosedive stared at the unopened Millers Lite. "He don't know whether to drink it or stick his tongue in it…well, you could do both, I guess," Lestat finished as an afterthought.
That followed by some surprisingly loud laughter from Thrash and Mookie. The tightening in Nosedive's stomach returned again, but this time from annoyance. He put the can of beer aside, then picked up a random comic.
"And so how did it end?"
"How else man? They all die!"
Nosedive jumped, his face only half visible from the comic. He looked down at the comic and realized, with a cold flush to his face, that it was a porn comic. His hands suddenly felt clammy, and he put the comic down in a hurry.
"Whoa, I'm telling you dudes and dudettes, that was—without a doubt—the trippiest movie I ever saw last night—bar none!"
Nosedive felt as if an hour passed rather than a few minutes. He had tried to pay attention to Thrash so that he could jump into the conversation with his friend, but something kept going out of focus in his mind.
"So then the movie ends where the mutant squirrel beats the guy to death with the corpses of his own dead family! Brilliant!"
"Whoa, what the fuck, bitch! I'm eating here!" Mookie chimed in, but Nosedive saw that by the way she ate her bean burrito that she was hardly disgusted. She rolled up a newspaper and hit Thrash over the shoulder. "Besides, how the hell did you know what happened if you were smoking outta a bowl every five minutes?! I don't remember anything like that!" Chewed bits of food dribbled down her chin as she shouted.
"That's cause you was smoking up with me, dumbass!"
"Oh fuck you, man—that's it—'' Mookie laughed and threw what she had left of her bean burrito at Thrash, who only partially ducked. A big chunk hit Lestat square in the forehead. To Nosedive's surprise, he didn't make a move to wipe it off—none of them did.
"You should join us sometime, Stat," Mookie said to him, ignoring the smears of food on his face. "But hell, the party starts when Nosedive smokes a joint, like t'cha!" She paused to throw her glance in Nosedive's direction. He felt puzzled—as if he should not have been watching them. He shifted and tapped on the top of the glass counter absent-mindedly. When he noticed that Lestat had his yellow eyes on him, he began to feel the hot sensation of embarrassment coming on.
"Hey, whatsa matter, dude? We're not good enough to cheer you up now?" Lestat's gentle tone didn't hide the meanness in his eyes. Nosedive shrugged, and then asked, "Say, Mook-myster, how much is that patch over there? The Ramones one... think I might buy it."
With a wave of her hand Mookie pulled out the key from one of the many pockets of her plaid pants. Nosedive could see the orange grease smeared into her fingernails as she fumbled with the lock, almost losing her grip on the key. She pulled out the patch and wiped her mouth with it before she placed it on the counter. Nosedive surprised himself when he said "What the hell" loudly enough for the others to hear.
"Don't get your panties all up in a bunch," Thrash answered back, and Nosedive regretted saying anything at all. There was smeared bean burrito still on the back shoulder of his shirt. "It's washable. Hey dudes, did you hear? They found a little girl's body last week—raped and choked."
Nosedive saw Lestat shake his head and smile scornfully. He continued to bob his head along to the music blaring from his headphones, rather than wearing them on his head he arrogantly hung them around his neck like a necklace as if he was daring the world to tell him not to. "I wanna fuck you like an animal," he softly sang the Nine Inch Nails lyrics.
"Killer used her own plastic necklace," Mookie added, thumbing through the box of new CD's and leaving stains on them. "Got her so hard that one of her eyes was missing. Popped out, t'cha."
Nosedive had woken up during the middle of the night, but he didn't remember why.
"And get this—all of her fingers were gone—they said he probably bit 'em off, dude."
Nosedive felt sick again. He thought he could hear the others talk over the blaring music radiating from Lestat's headphones, but their words came out jarred—as if their words came from an underwater loud speaker.
"Hey, you know what I wonder?" Lestat finally said through the music, feigning a voice of innocent inquiry as he took his right hand and rubbed the crotch of his jeans. "I wonder if he fucked the empty eye socket—''
"Hey how's about a nice cup of shut the fuck up already!" Nosedive's shouts stopped the music, along with Thrash and Mookie's laughter. There had been a nauseous feeling in his whole body when he opened his eyes to the blurred grays of the darkened room in the middle of that night, something that he couldn't quite place, even when he stopped to concentrate on the nausea.
Mookie and Thrash turned away, smirking, while Lestat stared hard at him with his cold, yellow eyes, the vertical scar slicing across his skin like a scythe.
"You shouldn't talk so much," he told Nosedive, his manner threatening, patronizing. "You need to be quiet."
But it was just an overall feeling of sickness, a physical unsettling that made him doze restlessly in and out of a drowsy stupor.
Nosedive turned around, about to leave, and the bright sky outside bothered him so much that he had to look down at the mottled carpet. The carpet eventually turned to the neutral grays of the sidewalk—he did not notice that he didn't go through the door at all. A weight like a wall in his chest emerged, and when he looked up there was someone waiting there—a drake with a grayish coat, eyes hidden underneath a cap.
He never saw the drake before, he knew that, but a foreign fear settled within him, took his breath and turned it into short hiccups, like repressed sobs. Nosedive thought if the drake lifted his face to him, if he saw his eyes--
You need to be quiet.
It reminded him of the night terrors he would get as a duckling, the horrors hidden underneath the bed, the crackling of eggshells, something trespassing what he thought was the safe sanctuary of his bed. He would see the devil if the drake lifted his dead eyes again.
You need to--
"Wake up!! Puckworld to Nosedive, hey!"
Nosedive awoke so suddenly that he slipped off the porcelain of the toilet lid and landed with a heavy thud on the floor. Darkness all around him.
Knocking on the other side, Thrash's voice. "Hey Dive, man…you okay in there?"
Nosedive thought of getting a drink of water from the sink to wash the bitter taste of bile from his beak, but in the darkness he just wanted to get to the door where Thrash waited.
When he came out of the bathroom, he saw Mookie looking worriedly at him, clutching a black shirt.
"Uh…where's Duke and Mara?" Nosedive tried to pretend like everything was ok.
"Left a while ago." Lestat looking at him now, headphones around his neck. No music blaring now—just the thick silence of awkwardness, the aftermath of a scare his three friends just had. Nosedive waited for a smart comment, but Lestat only looked back at him searchingly. "Uh…say dude, who wouldn't move?"
Nosedive blinked, ran his hand through his hair, made a note to take a shower when he got back. "Whuh—what?"
"I don't know, man, you tell me. That's all you kept saying in there."
"Did you fall asleep?" Mookie timidly put a hand on Nosedive's shoulder. "We heard the sound of you—you know—getting all sick and junk, and then we heard the bathroom light click off, and we thought you'd come out, but…"
"How long was I in there?"
"For a while," Lestat answered.
"Was I talking to you?"
"We heard you muttering something about not moving," Lestat went on, "So what the hell were you talking about?"
Nosedive thought he heard one of them add something, but he didn't wait to hear them out and left the store, letting the glass door bang behind him.
When the dawn had finally descended that morning, Nosedive discovered that his pillow case was damp where his upper face had been. It was almost as if he had experienced a cold sweat last night, the last remnants of a fever—or maybe he had cried.
To Be Continued…