By the time they get to London, it is snowing rather heavily. It is a wet and miserable night, but no more miserable than Skipper is feeling. The entire trip over, he had kept to himself. While Nigel had tried to engage him in conversation from time to time, Skipper was completely lost in his own thoughts. How could he not be? He is still reeling in the new information he has been ambushed by.
Even as they reach the habitat, Skipper is completely silent. He is a passive observer of everything happening around him. For the very first time since his childhood, he feels completely helpless. What happened to Sam is a startling, cruel reminder of his place in the world as a penguin. This sort of thing wasn't supposed to happen to them anymore now that they were out of Antarctica. Sam had chosen a different path for himself, a better life. How could he still end up with the same fate as if they had never left?
Hunted down and eaten. As if he were just any other penguin. Like he didn't even matter. Skipper can't bear the thought, though it keeps crawling back up. These thoughts and the tears they threaten are stifled down. Sam could have done so much more with his life.
"Please come in," Nigel extends his flipper towards the entrance.
Skipper looks around as he finds himself standing in the exact same spot he stood a year or so ago. That was the last time he saw his brother… the last time he would ever see him. The doorway feels that much colder now. Guilt surges over him. There would be no reconciling for that night. Now that is never going to happen.
As he steps inside, he takes a deep breath. It's as if the air is thinner and elusive to breathe in. The humble, little home is set up almost like a cave. If the circumstances were different, it might even feel quite cozy. Here Skipper is crossing the threshold of the door that was "always open" to him until it wasn't. And it is rather clear in hindsight that he was the one to shut that door himself. The space feels hollow now, despite the remnants of warmth, Skipper can immediately feel the sense of loss within this space.
Just as he is following Nigel deeper in, his attention is caught by a picture frame on the wall. There, right in front of him, is his brother. In the photo, Sam smiles happily with his wing wrapped around Eleanor. The couple looks delighted but in a serene way. So, this is what Sam wanted all along. Seeing Sam in that photo, made it all so clear to Skipper. Though he never understood exactly what Sam felt for Eleanor, Skipper could see that his brother was truly, deeply happy with the life he created with her.
It had been ages since he had seen Sam. What if one day he forgot his face? No, he couldn't. What kind of brother would he be? Skipper winces at the thought. He is so entranced by this photograph that he doesn't notice that Nigel has gone off deeper into the habitat. It's only when Nigel returns with a cardboard box that Skipper returns to reality.
"They really did love each other." Nigel sighs. He tilts his head and stares up at the frame. The two penguins are now standing side by side.
Instantly feeling embarrassed by his display of emotion, Skipper clears his throat and turns to face Nigel.
"Righty-o," Nigel nods, seeming to understand Skipper's resistance to any emotional connection. "These are some of Sam's things. I was going to see if you wanted to take any with you. You know, so you could have something to… remember him by."
"Yeah, uh…," Skipper tries to get some words out, anything. But that is all he can muster, as he takes the box from Nigel.
"Why don't I give you some time to look through them?" Nigel pats Skipper on the back before waddling off deeper into the habitat.
Skipper's flippers rummage gently through Sam's things. Many of them he recognizes, some of them he doesn't. Skipper even finds himself chuckling when he pulls out the old kaleidoscope Sam had brought with him from Antarctica. He even kept some of the brochures from places they had traveled together. The very last thing Skipper feels is something cold and metallic. At the very bottom of the heap, he traces his flippers along a curved edge, then a short, cylindrical one. Eventually, he brings the mystery object to the surface to reveal a metal coffee mug. This makes Skipper smile even more, remembering when he and Sam both drank coffee for the first time. Tears start welling up in his eyes, but he laughs instead, thinking about what a memory that day was.
"Oh, I see you've found Sam's coffee mug." Nigel leans in over Skipper's shoulder.
Skipper jumps. How doea this daffy penguin keep getting the drop on him?
"Terribly sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." Nigel chuckles slightly. As much as Skipper hates to admit it, the eccentric bird is rather comforting with his British etiquette.
"I remember when we both drank coffee for the first time." Skipper finally says a sentence composed of more than three words. He hadn't done so, since leaving Mexico.
"He was quite the coffee drinker." Nigel nods.
"He was?" Skipper turns to Nigel.
"Oh, yes," Nigel laughs, "while we'd all be drinking tea, Sam would have his morning cup of coffee. It was usually several cups actually."
Skipper smiles and instinctively brings this possession of Sam's in closer. Nigel takes notice of this.
"Would you like to keep it?" Nigel offers.
"Hmm?" Skipper suddenly realizes that he is nearly hugging the mug. He instantly loosens his grip. "No, no, I couldn't."
"Please," Nigel smiles at Skipper. "I think he would want you to have it."
Skipper nods. Thus, his coffee-drinking habitat begins. The very next day, Skipper begins conditioning himself into a caffeinated routine. But that's a story for another time.
A feeble, feminine voice calls out from the main room of the habitat. "Nigel, are you back so soon?"
"Yes, mum," Nigel calls back over his shoulder. Then, he turns to face Skipper. "Are you ready to meet your nephew?"
Again, the words are taken from him. Just like that. He nods, rather unsure honestly. There is no going back. This is his time to decide what sort of penguin he wants to be. He could turn and run. That is an option. He had already seen where Sam lived and gotten something to remember him by. If that is all he wants, he could technically leave. The door is right there.
That's when Sam's words from all those years ago hit him. "We look out for each other. It's the penguin credo: never swim alone."
Skipper follows Nigel out into the main room. A much older, female penguin stands with a little, gray bundle in her flippers. Her feathers are mostly dark gray, but there is a clear resemblance between her and Eleanor. If she had reached such an age, Eleanor might have even been a spitting image of her. Much like Nigel, she has a warm and gentle presence. What is it with these penguins? They are no one like Skipper had ever met before. Of course, that might be due to their life in captivity. It is a rather comfy living situation. They haven't been hardened by Mama Nature's brutality.
"Skipper, I would like to introduce you to Private." Nigel says.
At the sound of his name, the little gray bundle of feathers in the old penguin's flippers clumsily tumbles over excitedly. Now he is fully awake and facing his Uncle Nigel and the stranger.
That's when everything changes.
Upon seeing the stranger, the baby penguin is curious. He wriggles himself up into a seated position… or his best attempt at one. His awkward, fumbling movements emit laughter from everyone else in the room. It's as if the space has become much brighter. It no longer feels void but full of giddiness and joy.
When his big, blue eyes lock with Skipper's, the older of the two can't seem to look away. Instantly, a big smile comes across Private's beak. He has no clue who this much larger penguin is, but he is excited to meet this new friend.
In return, Skipper smiles breathlessly. The tears start to come, as he lets out another laugh. Without competition, this little fella is the cutest thing he has ever seen. He's got his mother's blue eyes, no doubt about it. But other than that, he's practically a miniature copy of Sam.
Then, it hits him.
"Private?" Skipper looks over to Nigel. Had he heard that right?
Gran shakes her head. "Sam came up with the name. Said he named the lad after his brother." She shrugs.
It seems they have no idea what the significance is. But he does. He remembers that conversation with Sam, all those years ago. They sat out on the shoreline of their home, talking about their future out in the world. Sam had laughed at him for saying he would name his hypothetical son Private. And in this moment of reminiscing, Skipper feels so much love, it's almost as if Sam is in the room with them. Sam named his son after him. Of all the penguins… why him? Even after everything… Did that mean Sam still cared about him, even after all that he had done? Sam still thought of him as his brother?
Now, the tears are becoming even more difficult to fend off. Skipper sniffles and pulls himself together. At this moment, all of the doubts leave his mind. They are practically distant memories. Though they'll return to him later, for now all he wants to do is hold the little guy.
"Can I, uh - ?" He takes a step forward, with his flippers extended.
"Oh," the kid's gran seems surprised. She didn't expect her estranged in-law to take so quickly to Private. "Of course."
Skipper lowers himself to one knee and extends his flippers. He doesn't want to appear scary to the kid. Trying desperately to remember how he interacted with the families in the jungle, he does his best to invite him in. Still, he is unsure of himself. It sounds more like a question, when he awkwardly greets. "Uh, hi, Private."
By this time, Gran has lowered the round, little hatchling to the floor. Quickly, he goes from standing on his own feet, to sitting on hers. He looks at Skipper with a slight smile. Perhaps he is still unsure. Skipper's heart sinks. Then, Private looks up at his Gran for brief reassurance. He tilts his head, as if to ask permission.
She chuckles and rubs his head. "It's all right, love. Go ahead."
And with that, the hatchling's expression changes in a flash. He is back to smiling excitedly. As fast as his stubby legs can take him, he begins waddling and teetering towards Skipper. This takes Skipper by surprise. He watches as the hatchling nearly trips over his own feet several times in his dash. Skipper laughs to himself. Looks like he really does have a lot of his father in him after all. Who knew all that clumsiness could be inherited?
As soon as Private reaches him, it is clear that the hatchling does not know much about personal space. He rushes right up against Skipper's belly. In fact, Skipper doesn't even have time to scoot back.
The little penguin bounces on his tippy-toes. His tiny, floppy flippers are extended past his beak and up towards Skipper. In his squeaky little voice, he demands. "Up, up, up!"
Skipper chuckles at the sight. This chick is a little commander in the making, huh? Surely enough, Skipper follows the order. With nearly shaking flippers, he wraps them around Private. Ensuring a good grip on either side of Private's hips, he lifts him up. Still, Skipper is terrified of the possibility of dropping the little one. Be that as it may, he is even more eager to take Private into his flippers. He never knew that he could love something so much, so instantly.
Now, standing with Private, Skipper gets a better look at his new nephew. For better support, and less of a chance of dropping him, Skipper brings him in closer. His feathers are so soft and fuzzy. He looks even more vulnerable up close. It's as if he's made of glass. He appears so fragile. In Skipper's flippers, he is completely dependent on … him. It's a jarring thought. When comparing Private to the size of his flippers, he appears even smaller than before. All Skipper can think about is his instinctive need to protect the little guy.
"He's uh, real tiny." Skipper observes, looking up at Nigel and Gran.
"Most chicks his age are." Gran smiles, gazing down at her grandson lovingly. "But, he's rather sturdy too."
"Yes, plump as a pheasant that one is!" Nigel chimes in, swinging his flipper. "Never turns down a good second helping."
Skipper smiles. It appears so. This hatchling is quite solid. Not a bad thing especially considering the harsh winters hatchlings are prone to facing. That's when he notices the big eyes staring up at him.
"Hi there, Young Private." Skipper chuckles nervously. He isn't quite sure what to say. Why is he staring up at him like that? It's a friendly, smiling gaze but still.
Instantly, Private springs into action. His smile curls up more to emit an elated giggle. His stubby, little legs kick excitedly. Even through all of this movement, his gaze never leaves Skipper. "Daddy!"
"No!" Skipper jolts back in surprise. His reaction startles Private, as the little one's eyes widen. He tenses up in Skipper's grip. Immediately, Skipper feels ashamed for his outburst of a response. He sighs and forces a smile. "No, I'm Skipper. You can call me Skipper."
"Daddy." Private tilts his head, correcting Skipper.
"Uh…?" Skipper raises his brow and turns to Nigel and Gran for assistance.
"He's been learning his words lately." Gran explains. When a tear comes to her eye, she sniffles and wipes it away. "Mummy was his first word… but daddy was a close second."
Nigel goes over to comfort her. He wraps a flipper around her shoulder in a heavy-hearted hug.
"Did they uh, get to hear – …?" Skipper begins to ask the question but stops.
"Yes," Gran nods, dabbing her eyes with a tissue, "but not as much as they would have hoped for. He is a little behind, as it is, but clearly they didn't expect to leave him like this."
"I don't know how anyone could." Nigel shakes his head, looking at Private.
This thought particularly stings Skipper. He had been just a few months older than Private when his father left him. It didn't make sense. It isn't fair. Why did Sam and Eleanor have to leave him? They wanted Private, they loved him so much. Why were they the ones who would never come back? They had no choice.
What perhaps is worse, is the memory that pops up in Skipper's mind. He remembers arguing with Sam. When Sam tried to tell him about his happiness with Eleanor, Skipper mocked him. He had been so jealous of Eleanor. He believed she had taken his brother away from him. But it was he who turned Sam away in the end. Sam and Eleanor should be the ones here right now, holding Private. It's as if Skipper can imagine them doing so, but now that will never again happen. His own words come back to haunt him, as they taste bitter in his beak. "And what if she wants kids? You'll be taking care of some brat you never wanted!" Skipper winces at the memory.
As tears return to his eyes, Skipper turns his head. To spare what is left of his tethered, weary pride, he hides his face. Still, Private's gaze catches his eye. He returns to look back down at the blissfully unaware hatchling. "Me neither. He's a good kid." Skipper sighs through a crackling throat.
He gently runs a flipper over Private's head. The little penguin leans into Skipper's flipper.
"Those horrid badgers." Gran shakes her head and bitterly looks to the floor.
"Again, mum," Nigel groans, with flippers sliding down his face. Clearly, he is trying to keep his patience. "I don't think it was badgers that - …"
Private once again looks up at Skipper. As if wanting to say something, he tilts his head.
"Hi," Skipper laughs, now tears are streaming down his cheeks. "Hi, Private."
Without further thought, Private smiles serenely and plops his head to the side. It lands softly against Skipper's chest. He snuggles and adjusts himself until he finds optimal comfort. Then, he lifts his flippers to wrap them behind Skipper's neck. His little flippers can't quite reach, so Skipper hoists him up a bit more. Once Private is nice and comfy, his breathing slows and he listens to Skipper's heartbeat. His eye lids are already starting to grow heavy.
"Now, look at that." Nigel smiles, speaking quietly as to not disturb Private. "A Private and his… Skipper. He's going to be just fine, Mum."
Skipper had almost forgotten they were standing there. He turns back to face them. "So, did Sam – did they… ever discuss who would be taking care of the little tyke, you know, if…?"
Nigel and Gran grow silent. They exchange glances. An awkward silence follows.
Gran is the first to speak. "Unfortunately, Sam and Eleanor never had the chance to have that conversation… but Nigel and I thought you would be a good fit, as his uncle."
Skipper is horrified at the thought. "Me? Oh, no, no, no. I, uh, I'm not the father-ing or uncle-ing type."
With all the mistakes he's made, he couldn't possibly raise a child. What would become of Private? Nothing good if that were the case. How would he provide for him? Would they both live out in hiding in the jungle? No, that wasn't plausible. A young chick out there would surely be an easy snack for predators. And what if they roamed around, like he had with Manfredi and Johnson? He couldn't turn the kid into a criminal. Besides, what would become of Private if he got captured by the Danes? He can't bear the thought of the child getting hurt. And yet, he couldn't abandon the helpless hatchling either. That is something he certainly could not live with.
"I mean, the boy would probably do better with his real family. Here he's got you both to look after him – I wouldn't make a good dad." Skipper stammers.
Nigel clears his throat. This isn't going quite as they had pictured. "We did discuss that thought as well. However, the only problem with us raising him is that… I tend to travel a lot for… my flower collecting habit."
Gran sighs, she didn't want to think about her morality. It is difficult enough to have lost her daughter recently. "And well, I'm not sure how much longer I'll be around."
"Hmm…" Skipper sighs, looking down at Private. It appears the little guy had lulled himself into a deep slumber at this point. He looks so peaceful and all the more in need of protection. But could he really provide that? He had already failed Sam. He couldn't stand losing Private too. "I just… I don't know if I'd be a good role model for the kid. I don't want to let him down…"
"We understand." Nigel nods, hiding his disappointment.
Skipper goes to hand back Private to Nigel, but something stops him. He suddenly takes notice of how tightly Private is clung to him. Surely, he doesn't want to let go. Likewise, he doesn't want to let Private go either. But could he really justify taking care of Private? It wouldn't be responsible.
"If you ever want to stop by and visit, the door's always open." Gran smiles wistfully. She really is unsure that Skipper will take heed of this. It appears that he never did, while Sam and Eleanor were around. Still, she feels that it is only right to extend the offer.
"Tell you what," Skipper straightens up. An idea rushes to his head. It's a plan, a new mission! But would it work? It had to. He would make it work. "I'm currently in no position to take care of a child, but give me a couple years. Once he's older, I'll take him in – teach him how to be a real penguin, to be a good one."
"Oh, thank you!" Gran bursts with joy, nearly hugging Skipper. What a relief!
"Sounds like quite the plan." Nigel shakes Skipper's flipper. Then proceeds to extend both flippers. He is ready to take Private back for the time being.
That's when Skipper's attention drifts back down to Private. The little penguin snuggles in closer. Perhaps, it was a chill or maybe he just didn't want Skipper to leave just yet.
"On second thought," Nigel notices this as well. "Would you like us to give you some time to say goodbye?"
"Yeah, if you - if you don't mind." Skipper smiles, still reeling in the fact that he and Private have grown so attached so suddenly. He feels so loved, wanted, needed. It's the first time he's felt anything remotely like this for a while now.
"Certainly not." Nigel's confidence in Skipper boosts, as he smiles at him.
When Nigel and Gran leave the room, Skipper feels as though he can relax a bit more. He trusts them, but now he doesn't feel the need to impress anyone. That is… other than the sleeping hatchling in his flippers. Now he can focus on just him. Nothing else seems to matter. Not Denmark, not his schemes, not even his admiration for Buck Rockgut can match this new feeling in his heart.
"Uh, Private, you asleep kid? Private?" Skipper nudges the little penguin in his flippers. However, it is to no avail. The little one is fast asleep. His breathing radiates into the evening air in the sound of a soft, steady hum.
"Okay, good." Skipper clears his throat. It is for the better that Private is asleep. There is so much he wants to tell his nephew. Where would he begin? Yet there are many things he'd rather his nephew never knew. He already wants to shield Private from the dangers of this world. Something inside him drives him to do so, no matter the cost.
"I just uh, I just want to tell you that … I'm going to do right by you, Private. If it's the last thing I do, I'm going to make sure you have one heck of a good life…" Skipper squeezes the little hatchling slightly.
He pauses and clears his throat. He doesn't want to get all sappy, but how can he not? It seems like an impossible feat. "And I just want you to know that your parents loved you so much. Much more than you'll ever know really."
Skipper sniffles, resisting tears. "Though, I'm sure your gran and uncle will tell you all about your Ma… Your papa was a good guy, Private. I need you to know that, okay?" He whispers with some urgency. Here he is holding Sam's sole legacy in his flippers. The only thing that could make losing Sam worse is the thought of him being forgotten. This little penguin is all that's left of his brother.
"He meant the world to me. In fact, he was the best brother I could ever wish for, that anyone could ever wish for, really. He did his best to keep me out of trouble… And you're so much like him already." Skipper finds himself crying but laughs at himself. The tears - he finds them ridiculous.
"But I promise you, you're not going to make the same mistakes I did. I won't let that happen." Skipper nods and swallows hard. This is something he vows.
"You're not going to end up like me. I promise. You're going to be happy and healthy and… free." Skipper's tone lightens. "But if all else fails, and for some reason, you do make a mistake or two… hopefully nothing that deems you public enemy number one of Cambodia or something, …"
Skipper pauses to fight the sudden tears. His voice is firm but trembles. "I want you to know… that there is nothing that will make me stop loving you. And I will never, ever turn you away.
"I'm going to be here for you, no matter what. I'm going to get myself together and by the time you're under my guidance, I'm going to be one heck of a role model for you."
Skipper doesn't like all the somberness. Surely, he needs to grieve and process all of this new information. However, he doesn't like displaying his emotions for others. Not even the hatchling, especially not him. He doesn't want Private to think he's weak. He wraps it up with a question that is rhetorical given the context. "Sound like a deal?"
Private murmurs and stirs. By the way his face contorts, it is very likely that he's having a nightmare.
Skipper brings him in closer and begins to sway. Frankly, he doesn't know what he is doing. Instincts take over and he goes into action. Instead of rushing into a river this time, he gently comforts the tiny penguin. "Sh, it's okay. You're safe, Private. I'm here."
Private buries his face deeper into Skipper's chest. His fuzzy, little flippers hold onto Skipper tighter. Skipper smiles warmly and kisses the little one on the top of the head. He's not going back on his word now.
"All right then," Nigel reenters the room. Again, his odd voice causes Skipper to jump. Though his tone is gentle and the volume is nearly a whisper, Nigel still manages to surprise Skipper. "Have you had enough time?"
Skipper gets over his startle and nods. "Yeah," very carefully, he removes Private's grip and begins handing him over.
The sudden movement awakens a groggy hatchling. He opens his eyelids halfway amidst the transfer back to his Uncle Nigel. When Nigel receives Private, he rests him against his chest as well. With a couple pats on the back, Private slouches into a comfortable position.
"There's just one thing." Skipper has a concern, still gnawing at him.
Nigel and Gran exchange puzzled looks. Now what seems to be the problem? Surely, he isn't going back on his promise now. It is entirely possible.
"I don't want him to know who I am." Skipper confesses. He's forfeiting the title of uncle. But if it means sparing Private from the harsh truths of his past, it's worth it. If Private never learns about all of the hijinks he got up to, then he won't get any ideas for himself. Plus, he won't resent him for what happened to his parents. Skipper clarifies. "He can't know – who I am. Maybe just that his dad and I were good friends… that we knew each other."
Gran is in a bit of a befuddled tizzy. "Oh, okay?" It sounds fair enough. After all, taking in a child all of a sudden did seem like a herculean task. It is only fair that he has his own terms. While those requests do seem rather befuddling, she's sure he has his reasons.
Without a further word, Skipper turns to leave. Well, he's established a plan, now he's ready to get out there. Between the desire to catalyze his redemption and suppress his emotions, Skipper wants to keep things brief. He's no good at any of the sappy stuff that may follow. Besides, there's no point in commiserating now. Sam isn't coming back. No matter how much uncomfortableness Skipper could inflict upon himself by sticking around, it would do no good. He knows what he must do now.
In Nigel's flippers, Private extends his little flipper. "Bye-bye." He reaches out for Skipper and grabs at the air.
This stops Skipper in his tracks. He takes a few steps back towards the hatchling. Tilting his head, he smiles warmly. "Bye, Young Private." He chuckles and playfully gives out an order. "Now, you be good for your uncle and grandma there."
Skipper smiles up at Nigel and Gran, before turning around. This is the last time he'll see all three of them for a while. Clearly, Private is the one he'll miss, but that's even more motivation to get his act together. Either way, he wants to get out of here, before his emotions spill all over. Internally, he's very much still a mess. Perhaps, even more so now. But he can't let that show, especially now that they are entrusting him with Private. What would they think of him, if he broke down in tears? It would show that he didn't have what it takes to raise him.
"Do you have any idea where you'll be in a few years?" Nigel asks.
Now, standing in the doorway, Skipper thinks for a moment. It goes against everything he has learned to give away his future whereabouts. But he can trust these penguins. Right? "Hard to say, right now I'm heading to somewhere in New York, hoping to settle down, integrate back into society. Get back on my own feet."
And with that, he leaves. Gran and Nigel are left watching him. Rather dumbfounded, they both express perplexed facial expressions.
"Quite odd that one." Gran notes.
Once Skipper is out of sight, Nigel slicks back the feathers on his head. His entire persona changes to a far more suave, confident figure. All of the previous eccentricity seems to leave his body. Puffing out his chest, he holds Private in one flipper and rests the other on his hip. It appears Nigel too had been putting on airs.
"I'll keep an eye on his whereabouts until then." Nigel assures Gran, in a much more serious voice. Who knows if this Skipper character can really be trusted? Nigel would have to use his own secret agent skills to investigate Skipper further. Though Sam seemed to have faith in his brother, Nigel can't trust just anyone with his nephew. This Skipper appeared to have a record. It now has become Nigel's mission to piece together this puzzle and track his next moves. Whether or not Skipper appeared to be a fit role guardian for his nephew, would surely be brought to light. However, he had to tread lightly. If Skipper ever finds out that he is being watched, it could compromise the entire mission. Likewise, if Skipper fails in this endeavor, they will have to come up with something else… Perhaps, Private could become Nigel's apprentice. But he is far too young to start secret agent work any time soon. That is a worry for another day. For now, they can find relief in the fact that they have some resemblance of a plan.
In Nigel's flippers, Private squirms. It appears his gaze has not left the doorway. Maybe he is waiting for Skipper to come back. He had already grown quite fond of this stranger. It would be a shame for him to disappear through the same doorway that his parents did.
"Sk-skuh-" Private tries to sound out the word. "Sk-ip-pah?"
Skipper makes his way out of the habitat. He can feel the warmth on his face. Tears are coming up fast. It's getting harder to breathe. This isn't good. He can't let them see him; he can't let anyone see. How selfish of him to be the one to start crying. The hatchling had just lost his parents. Nigel had lost his sister, and Gran had just lost her daughter. They had been there for Sam, up until the end, but where was he? Out in the middle of nowhere, only looking out for himself. The kid would never know his parents.
Finally, he makes his way to a city bench. It's far enough away from the zoo. However, sound carries in the cold, brisk night. This is as far as he gets before dragging himself underneath the bench and breaking down. His sobs rake his body, as he curls up into himself. He can't dare show his face to the world again. Sam was his brother. Sam had been there for him when he needed him the most. But when Sam was in danger, he wasn't there. Even when Sam first opened the door to him, he rejected the invitation in his own resentment and selfishness. Then, after Denmark, it was too late. Sam had always been there, but he just pushed him away.
What if Skipper had stayed with Sam and Eleanor? He never would have gone to Denmark. As a result, he wouldn't have to look over his shoulder constantly. All of the panic and paranoia he's experienced over the past few months would have been a distant nightmare. He would never have been double-crossed. Now, it seems like he deserved to be betrayed by Hans. He was no good, so it might as well have happened to him.
What if Sam had never rescued him from those skuas? Maybe Sam should have let them eat him. If that were the case, he never would have been dragged out on this international snafu and all the trouble it's caused.
If he thinks hard enough, he can almost envision the happy family all together in the habitat. Eleanor would be holding her baby with Sam standing nearby, playing peek-a-boo with the little one. Private would be so loved and cared for, so safe. In fact, the kid would have an entire, healthy family. They would be there for him as he grew. Maybe Skipper would come back in the picture… maybe not. Maybe it would have been better if he never existed. Perhaps, the family would still be together. But now, that kid would never understand why his parents weren't coming back home. Would he even remember them?
Skipper's downward spiral continues, as it gets even harder to breathe. Sam's dead and it's all his fault. He could have been there to protect them. He should have been there to have Sam's back. It's all his fault. Private is an orphan, and it's all his fault. At least when he himself was abandoned, his father was still alive. He was abandoned in the first place because his father didn't want him. Private's parents both wanted him. Sam cared about the kid so much. Even when hearing about Sam from Nigel, he could tell how much he loved his family. And Skipper's dad wouldn't even hold him. He always suspected that he was bad and unworthy of love. Now this proves it. And it's too late. The damage has been done.
Then, the image of the little guy's face pops back into Skipper's memory. His adorable, smiling face was identical to a much younger Sam. He was practically a spitting image of his dad, with his mother's blue eyes. And his name – Private. Sam had thought of him and named his son after… him. Of all penguins, why? He didn't deserve it. But regardless of his guilt and shame, the kid looked up at him and smiled so big. He accepted him, naïve to all of his shortcomings. The kid was innocent and new to this world. He didn't deserve to get mixed up in the mess that Skipper had made of his own life. Skipper couldn't bring himself to do that to the hatchling. Then again, he couldn't just desert him either.
But when he looked up at him, it was like nothing he had ever felt before. It was similar to how he felt with Sam, but even stronger. It brought him to tears. Everything in his body was telling him to protect the little one at all costs. He chalks it up to instincts. Private was so defenseless and needed someone to look after and protect him, to show him how to be a penguin… Just like Sam had done for him. When Private looked at him, Skipper felt purpose.
Skipper settles himself down and wipes the tears away. He had a hardy, secret cry but now it is time to rectify his mistakes. It seems like he had made so many. Surely, he hadn't lived an immaculate life, ethics-wise. Whatever he did moving forward would never make up for the fact that Sam is now gone. The boy is without a mother and father. But Skipper is determined to do whatever he can to be there for Sam's son and prevent him from making the same mistakes. It is the very least he can do for his brother. And to match the standard Nigel and Gran had set, he would have to be one heck of an upstanding penguin – a proper role model for Private.
That's it! Just as he did back in the jungle, he could use his military training and sense of adventure to help others. Yes! Just like Sam said, penguins look out for one another. Except, he would look out for other zoo animals, too. He wanted to be like Rockgut when he and Sam first started their adventure. Perhaps, he strayed from this over time. But he just had to get back to the original plan: help others, fight evildoers, and now, become a penguin that Private could admire.
This is his new quest… no his mission! He vows to do so. And the very first step will be turning himself in at the Central Park Zoo. He'll reunite with Manfredi and Johnson. Then, he can work with them to protect zoo residents from any wrongdoers. It's not exactly saving penguinkind but it's something.
…. Entry 21 …...
"Skipper's log: Hey Sam …,
"He's going to be okay. I promise. I just want you to know that. Your son is going to have a good life, Sam. I'm going to do better. I'm going be better." Skipper whispers. He hugs the coffee mug towards him and sits out the snowstorm.
[To Be Continued]