A Boy Named Ray---Chapter 5
Author's Note: This is very much overdue. I started this series two years ago and have now, two years later, decided to finish it. Nostalgia's sake or just the fact that I want to complete it all now. I don't know. I plan on re-writing the whole thing in the near future, but for now, here's the next to final installment in what kicked off my fanfiction career and led me to where I am today.
Ever have the feeling that you're so overwhelmed...you just want to give up everything?
Sometimes...you just want things to be so right for you that when things are so wrong, no matter what you do...it'll never be right.
Ever.
The thing you want so much slips right through your fingers. But sometimes...you realize that you already have something...and then realize you don't want it anymore.
So you let it go.
Ray was knocked back against the alley wall by a blast of protoplasm. The wind left his body momentarily as he struggled to get up.
He heard laughing. Someone was laughing at him.
"Poor, poor Raymond", the voice said. "I gave you a chance. You and I could have done such wonderful things together. And yet, you had to choose the path of righteousness, of good. Of justice." Malvolio sneered as Ray got to his feet, slightly dazed. The Ghostbuster could feel his cracked ribs by tenderly touching his side. Breathing was painful. It was if someone had done a tap-dancing number on his innards. He did not know how much longer he could keep this up.
"Got...to keep going."
He pointed his neutrona wand at Malvolio's looming form. Deep down inside, he could feel the old fear that had predominated much of his childhood as he remembered his last encounter with the demonic Malvolio...
December 1970
It had been a scant two weeks since the deaths of the Stantzes. Many in Morrisville had turned out for the funeral, paying their final respects to David and Carolyn.
What was on the minds of many was the future of their three children. Carl had declined to attend the funeral. He'd said the thought of seeing the only two people he had ever loved in this world dead would be too much for him to bear, as he was beginning his second semester at Westchester Military Academy and, according to his proctors at least, was in line to be promoted to the rank of lieutenant, and didn't the extra stress and grief it would have undoubtedly have brought.
Standing at his parents gravesite the day after the funeral, that was inconsequential to Ray. He should have been there. He should have stood with Jean and himself at the service. He should have planted the flower on their parents' graves himself, instead of "sending" his respects via USPS. That's what made Ray angry at his brother. The realizition was that Carl had never quite forgiven his parents for sending him away. And Ray knew this, as did some people but, out of respect to the family name, never spoke this out loud.
In between his thoughts, Ray felt a hand on his shoulder. Startled, he looked up. It was Captain Fuhrman, Elaine's father and lead of the Morrisville Police Department.
"Hello Ray", he said. This surprised Ray. In most of his earlier meetings with the Captain, Fuhrman's voice had been rather gruff, yet had a sense that he meant no harm unless indicated. Now, as Ray was facing him, the gruffness was gone altogether, replaced by a soft rasp. It wasn't easy to forget that Fuhrman had been close friends with his father and mother.
Now, it was hard for Fuhrman, as much as it was for Ray, to realize that they were both gone.
"Hello sir", Ray replied. He returned his gaze back to his parent's tombstones. There was an uneasy silence that passed between the both of them for several seconds. Finally, Fuhrman spoke.
"Ray, I'm so sorry for what happened", he said. Ray could not get over the soft raspiness of the Captain's voice. It wasn't like him at all.
"Me too", droned Ray.
"How've you been these last couple of days?"
Ray wanted to say, How do you think I feel? I just buried my mom and dad, my brother's a shithead, and...
"I feel alright."
Fuhrman nodded. "Good. I was hoping that you would say that."
More silence. It was beginning to make Ray uncomfortable.
"Listen, Raymond." This caught Ray off guard. Rarely did anybody refer to him by "Raymond" much anymore. This only made the situation even more grave for both of them.
"I don't like being the bearer of such matters. I much rather wish what I have to say and do on somebody else. If I knew they could handle it, they could have it."
"What is it?" Ray asked. He was quickly not liking where this was going.
Fuhrman scratched the little stubble growing on the tip of his chin. He hadn't shaved in several days.
"I never liked telling kids to wait when they're older for us adults to tell them stuff", he said. "Cause we never do. It's just as bad as outright lying. But you're not like most kids, Ray, and I hope you'll understand what I have to do is in your best interests."
Fuhrman gulped.
"The state considers matters such as these to be of grave importance. It's always been in the interest of the children. Your father's sister, Lois, wanted to take in both of you, but as she is currently unemployed and her current finances are...a little less than it would be to support two children..." He choked back the last words, hoping against hope of not having to say them.
"There's a family that wants to take you in, the Kendricks. They're a new couple that just moved here and..."
Ray backed away from Captain Fuhrman. "New couple? Take me in? What are you saying?"
"Ray, I'm sorry, but this is how it has to be. It's out of my hands."
They both stared at each other, silence between the both of them, coupled with standing in a graveyard. Ray very much wanted to run, as fast he could, anywhere. He knew it would it be useless if he even tried; Fuhrman would catch him in a few seconds.
Finally, Ray couldn't hold it back any longer. He felt the hot tears streaming down his cheeks. Captain Fuhrman walked over to the boy and put a hand on his shoulder. It was something Ray needed at that moment.
"Why?" he asked, choking on the words between the tears. "Why did they have to die?"
From the moment Ray stepped through the door of the recently restored Ducth manor on 121 Wolper Lane, he knew his life wouldn't be the same ever again. Holding his meager belongings from the life he knew (which comprimised of two cardboard boxes marked Ray's in crude marker. His pets were sold to a pet store in town, as he had been told the Kendricks were allergic to the types of animals Ray found interesting.) Ray (along with the dour Captain Fuhrman) traversed up the winding stairway towards the Kendricks's house, a Dutch colonial manor not common in Morrisville, but not rare in upstate New York.
The wife, Franny Kendricks, was the first to greet the duo. She was slight, smaller than Ray's mother had been (but then again, Caroyln Stantz stood a good foot taller than her husband). A true Irishwoman, she had flaming red hair, and, as Ray saw, freckles that dotted her otherwise homely features. A dumpy women, she opened the door for Ray and the Captain, her stomach jiggled a little bit. Ray did all he could to hold back a snigger.
"Good afternoon Captain!" she said brightly. Fuhrman nodded his head and tipped his fedora.
"Good afternoon Mrs. Kendricks", the Captain said. The gruff and growl was back in his voice. "This is the child I was telling you about. Ray, this is Mrs. Franny Kendricks."
"Your new mother!" Mrs. Kendricks said, placing a hand on Ray's head ruffling his dishevled auburn hair a little bit. Ray recoiled a little bit from the woman's touch. He didn't feel right about the situation at all. He got a similar feeling from the Captain, as he felt the older man bristle at the woman's audacity at proclaiming that she could replace the spark of life that was Carolyn MacMillian Stantz.
But, Fuhrman let the thought go. "Don't be rude Ray. Say hello."
"Hello", Ray said without feeling or effort. He was sort of glad when he noticed an offended look on the face of Mrs. Kendricks. Bending down so that she was nose to nose with the child, she said:
"Little boys should show their elders a little more respect."
"Sorry", replied Ray.
"Sorry, what?"
"Sorry. ma'am."
"Better. We'll make a delightful young man out of you yet!" Turning back towards the Captain, she said, "Now, is there anything else I need to do pertaining to young Raymond?"
"No, no", Fuhrman responded. "I think you and Marty have gotten everything all settled downtown. If there's anything further I can do..."
"No, I think we're done here." She looked at Ray. "Are you ready to come inside Raymond?"
For a brief moment, Ray thought that he might actually have a chance at running. His eyes darted down the sloping sidewalk that led up to the Kendricks's house. If he shoved his boxes at Captain Fuhrman, he might actually be able to have a chance at rolling down the grassy knoll that lay adjacent to the house, down the street, and a good distance before the Captain caught up with him.
Yeah right, and I'm Sean Connery, he thought to himself. In retrospect, he would have said anything other than:
"Yes. Ma'am." That seemed to make Mrs. Kendricks's day as she squealed with joy and beamed.
"Wonderful!" she exclaimed. Putting her hand behind Ray's back, she ushered him inside the house, closing the door in the Captain's face and closing a door on the life Ray had known.
As Mrs. Kendricks shut the door, he swore he heard, in the distance as a cold bitter wind swept through, the sound of laughter. It wasn't the type of laugh that someone would share with a friend. He turned his head slightly to see if he could find the source. There was nothing there.
Life with the Kendricks, for Ray, eroded the moment that door closed.
After Captain Fuhrman had dropped him off at the home, the wife, Franny, proved to be every bit as strange as Ray had felt. She put the boxes that contained his entire Captain Steel collection (since the book's publication in 1964), his clothes, and even some of his memorabilia into the attic. Ray watched as she climbed up stairs that led to that dank area of any home, humming a tune that Ray guessed was from when the Andrews Sisters were a trio.
"Why are you putting my clothes and stuff up there?" he asked innoncently. The ferocity with which Mrs. Kendrick zoomed down the ladder and grabbing Ray's throat shocked and confused the boy.
"I've had enough of your mouth, boy!" the woman said between gritted teeth. She was slowly increasing her grip, making breathing difficult for Ray.
"Please...stop..." he choked. "I...can't breath..."
"Say it."
Ray looked at her bewilderd. He could tell that she knew he was confused and a burst of strength from her arm, Ray thought his esophagus was going to collapse.
"Say it", she repeated again, "or I'll choke you to death, chop you up, and feed you to Old Man Flannigan's dogs!"
"P--p--please", Ray wheezed. Each breath was becoming more strained, like someone taking an icicle and stabbing him in the heart. "Ma'am..."
Franny released her grip, and smiled that same lizard grin that Ray had seen earlier when Captain Fuhrman stood by his side. Falling to the ground, Ray sucked in as much air as he could. She returned back to her business upstairs in the attic, staying there for a few minutes before climbing back down again. Ray was still on the ground. The air tasted sweet.
"First rule of the house hon", Mrs. Kendricks said, lifting Ray's head up by the chin by her index finger. "Respect your elders." Had he enough strength, Ray would have spat in her face. He remembered once hearing a tale that you can the lion out of the fight, but you can't take the fight out of the lion.
Mortimer "Marty" Kendricks arrived at his new home at five o'clock that afternoon, as the sun was setting. He was an imposing man, twice the size of his wife, with a doughy face and beady, dark eyes that sat like two chocolate chip cookies in his face. He was a man of thinning hair, who tried to cover it up with a hat similar to the one that Captain Fuhrman wore. The most hair he probably had was in his bushy mustache, which almost obscured the lower part of his lip.
Ray sat in the parlor room, looking out the window when his "father" arrived "home". He entered like a warmed over Fred Flintstone.
"I'M HOOOOME!" he bellowed. Ray had seen him park his '38 Plymouth in a driveway that neighbored his. A felony act, Ray surmised, although he remembered hardly anyone lived in this neighborhood for years. Perhaps that maybe why Kendricks got the house so cheaply.
His wife ran up to him, tying a KISS THE COOK...SHE DESERVES IT! apron around her plump waist. They embraced in a manner that would have made Cary Grant and Grace Kelly laugh and want to show them how its done properly: Marty's were shorter than his wife's, thus he was only able to reach halfway around Franny's back to hug her, but Franny looked as though she had the ability to pick her obviously heftier husband off his feet. They kissed sloppily, not the way Ray had seen it done in the movies. If that's how really done, he thought, then I don't ever want to fall in love.
Knowing that he if he didn't get out of his chair, the consequences, as he had come to understand, would be dire. After putting the last items that reminded Ray of his former life in the attic (with one detour into the basement), Mrs. Kendricks had spent the better part of the afternoon explaining to Ray what the rules of living with her and her husband would be like:
1. Respect your elders.
2. Do not question either Marty or Franny.
3. Do as you're told
"And if you don't adhere to those rules", the wife had said, "then I'll make sure that you take a one-way visit to New York City's Orphanages!" She looked at Ray as a shocked expression crossed his face. She smiled. "You wouldn't like that, now would you?" she added.
"So is this the little scamp that Jackie was telling us about?" Marty Kendricks strolled up to Ray and looked down on him as if he were some sort of weed. With his hands on his hips, he resembled a giant of a man when compared to the short Ray.
"Marty Kendricks", said the man, his voice booming with pomposity and supeirority. He held out his hand. Ray looked at it for several lingering seconds before he shook it. Kendricks, taking the boy's hand, gripped it tightly in his own meat cleaver of a hand that Ray thought he was going to crush it. Grinning, Kendricks said:
"Hmmm, a bit soft. But we'll fix that, won't we son?"
Ray couldn't take it anymore. Holding his ginger hand, he said, "I'm not your son."
This caught both Kendricks off guard. Franny straddled up next to Ray and, trying to diffuse the situation, said, "What do you mean? Of course you're our son. We're your parents and you're our child. It's that simple."
"NO!" Ray shouted. "My parents were David and Carolyn Stantz! Not you two!"
A hot, burning sensation and a bright light came upon Ray as fell to the carpet. Franny had slapped him across the face.
"Shut up you stupid brat!" she said. The side of Ray's face had the crimson streaks of her fingernails. One of them was bleeding. Marty took off his hat and coat and hung them on the coat rack. "Hard on the boy, ain't you Fran?" he said in a causal manner.
Still on the floor, Ray touched his throbbing face. In between the pain, he noticed that Marty Kendricks had forgotten to close the door. He'd had enough. Making his move, he bolted towards the door.
"Grab him!" Franny shouted as Ray sprinted underneath Marty's legs. Finding himself outside, he immediatley initiated his previous plan and, getting into the "tuck and roll" posistion, rolled down the hill that led to the street. He could hear the Kendricks shouting after him, and, knowing very much that people of their heights and weight would not dare repeat what he was doing, would have to go the long way.
Ray slammed into a rabble of garbage cans, but was not hurt. He still had time. Quickly running down the road, he wanted to put as much distance between the Kendricks and himself as possible.
He did not want to be there. That was not his home. They were not his parents.
His parents were kind and loving. They did not dare lay a hand on him, or even on his siblings. His father had a full head of hair and his mother was almost the perfect clone of Carol Brady. They had a fairly new car...
Oh God, Ray thought, slowing down a little bit. The final truth was beginning to come upon him. His parents were dead and there was nothing he could do to bring them back.
No matter where he was going to try and go to, he was not going to shake the mental pictures he was having of his parents last, fleeting moments of life.
"Come back here son! Don't make this any harder than it has to be!" Ray heard Marty Kendricks's voice behind him. He wasn't far. It was obvious to him that the old man had decided to take the car and tail the younger boy.
Getting his second wind, Ray made a mad dash up the street. He didn't know where it led, exactly (he'd never been in this area) but there had to be some place to hide.
Some place to go.
He rounded a corner quickly. Ray noticed how familiar it all felt for some reason, as if he had been there before. He shook the feeling off, knowing that things like "deja vu" were, for his father at least, superstitious nonsense.
"Live for the now", his father had said. "And worry about tomorrow later."
He said that, Ray remembered, tears again welling up in his eyes as he began running again. He said that and left. Suddenly, it occured to him that it was his fault his parents died: he'd pushed them out the door that night. He'd said it was alright to go out. He'd said everything except what he should have said.
Don't go.
But it was too late. And he knew it. Ray thought that maybe he deserved everything that was happening to him at this moment. He considered, for a few brief moments, to turn around and go back to the Kendricks. What would happen next would be his own punishment.
"Going somewhere, Master Stantz?"
Ray stopped. For the first time that day, he'd heard a warm, kindly voice come from someone he knew rather well.
"You're in trouble again, aren't you Ray?" Boo Radley asked as he brought Ray a pitcher of his lemonade. He'd seen the boy running down the road, running, where he figured, towards the mill that still kept a lot of Morrisville's population employed. Offering Ray a ride, he did not think that the first place the child wanted to go was back to Boo's comic's store.
"Yes sir", Ray replied. He was leaning against the railing on the roof of Boo's comics store, staring out at the setting sun. He wondered to himself how long the Kendricks would wait until they called Captain Fuhrman.
"I see", Boo said calmly, placing the pitcher on a tray between himself and Ray. He pulled out a clay pipe and lit it, inhaling long and deep, letting the smoke escape from his nostrils. "Bad trouble?"
"Oh yeah."
The two of them said nothing for a few minutes. Finally, it was Ray who broke the silence.
"I killed them."
Boo raised an eyebrow as he puffed on his pipe. Calmly, he replied with, "You didn't kill them. It was an accident."
"NO!" Ray shouted. "I told my mom and dad to go out! I said to them that it was all right, that I could handle taking care of Jean by myself! My dad left me that responsibility, but he didn't think to save his own life!"
"Perhaps", Boo said. "But do you honestly think your mother and father blame you for what happened to them?"
This caught Ray off guard. He had never thought of that. But it didn't change matters.
"They're still dead and it's my fault."
"Stop saying that", Boo said reliting his pipe. "What happens happens. We do not have the power to stop whatever occurs in this lifetime, except dust each other off and continue living. Isn't that what your father always believed in?"
"He did", Ray said. "He thought that nobody should dwell on things that had happened to them in the past. He always said the past is like a cancer, that it slowly builds up inside of everybody before killing their souls. My dad liked to think that once people understood their past and remembered in a way so that they wouldn't repeat it, he felt that they would become better in their futures."
"Your father was right", Boo said. Sighing, he continued.
"Ray, I am going to tell you something that may change the course of your own future."
"What do you mean?"
"It's like your father said: confront your past, understand it, and live on. But I want you to promise me something first though."
"Okay."
"And I don't mean just a promise. I want your word, man to man. I want you to promise that what happens after today, tomorrow, or any other day, that you never forget what type of man you want to be. Never forget honesty, integrity, and above all, the love you have for others."
Ray didn't quite understand and divided his sight between the sunset and looking at the suddenly hard look in Boo's eyes. The streets were oddly empty, but that was expected, as it was past five. Most people would be home or starting their evening jobs.
Finally, Ray nodded. "You have my word Mr. Radley", he said. Boo smiled wistfully. Sighing once again, he said:
"Ray, your parents did not die in an auto accident."
The news took a while before slamming into Ray like a hammer into his stomach.
"Wh--what do you mean?"
Boo stopped for a few moments, collecting his thoughts, trying to put into words his revelation would undoubtedly have upon young Ray.
"The day after they found your parents car, I went to the scene and found several trace figures of high ectoplasmic energy."
"What's ectoplasm?" Ray asked.
"It's a unique source of power that ghosts and demons have", Boo said. "I have never told you that I used this trace signature to find and trap Malvolio the first time..."
The name felt like poison in Ray's ears as he heard the name.
"Malvolio", Ray said.
"Yes", replied Boo. "His signs were all over the place. I believe he distracted your parents before he killed them."
Suddenly, it all made sense. There had been no remains for the police to find. The car was completely destroyed beyond recognition.
And it all led back to Malvolio.
"I always said that he wouldn't die until his avatar did first", Boo said sadly. "He latched onto you quicker than he did most, Raymond. Why, I don't know. What I do know is that he is now sufficiently powerful enough to the point where trapping him in a tesseract would be an impossible reality."
"We've gotta try", Ray interrupted. Now it was Boo's turn to be surprised.
"We?"
"Yes", Ray said slowly. He turned to face Radley. "He killed my parents Boo. He has to die."
Radley looked at Ray and for the first time, Ray noticed that the man's eyes no longer had that twinkle he had known. They were both grave and stern, full of the seriousness with which the two friends found themselves in. Leaning back against the railing, Radley said:
"I'm not sure if I can allow you to do that Ray."
"Why not?"
"Because that might be what Malvolio from us both. I caught him and you weakened him. He would be killing two birds with one stone if he got us both."
"I don't care!" Ray shouted. "I've got nothing here for me anymore! No family, no friends! Who would care if I lived or died!"
Radley grabbed Ray by the shoulder, so that he was face to face with the boy.
"Don't say that again. Ever", Radley said. "You do have people that care about you Raymond. In your grief you don't realize it, but you will. Wherever you go in the world, you will have people who will love you and worry whether or not you come home at night. It may not be now, but it will be. Do you understand me?"
Ray turned away. He wasn't going to cry again. He felt ashamed at himself.
Boo Radley's features softened as he hugged Ray. "You've been like a son to me since you moved here, Raymond", he said. "I'll be damned if I let Malvolio get to you. It's my fault that all this happened. And...I've got to finish it."
"But..."
"No buts. Now, I suspect that your foster family has already alerted the good Captain of your disappearance. I want you to go there, stay at home."
"But..."
"Ray, I am being serious. Malvolio cannot harm you if you are in the safety of the Kendricks. Go. Now."
The two of them locked eyes. For a brief moment, Ray felt as though Boo was more than just the oddball who owned the comic book store. He felt that Henry Radley was...an uncle maybe? He didn't know. He shook the feeling as he nodded slowly.
"That's a good boy", Radley quipped. The two of them left the roof together. Had a bystander been nearby, one would have supposed that they were really father and son. Family.