"Honey, phone!" Nancy Reed poked her head into the sitting room and gave her son a stern glare. She had gotten pretty good at condensing every single thing she wanted to say to Fulton into one facial expression. She had not been impressed that her son had only stuck at his new school for a matter of weeks before quitting, something he'd not intended telling her – but the determined look on her face had him spilling his guts in only a few minutes. The woman was incredible, a friend tipped her off that Fulton was in the mall during a school day and that was all it took. She had told him endlessly that he was a good boy, a bright boy and he would do much better at Eden Hall than at the local public school. Several arguments had broken out about it, but now she had just got it down to a grimace since words weren't getting her anywhere. However, her tone had been light and friendly, this was because his mom was always conscious that some people had the idea that being poor and being a dysfunctional family went hand-in-hand.
Fulton got up and took the phone from her. "Yeah?" He muttered. His mom slapped his shoulder lightly. "Um, I mean, hello?"
"Dude, it's me." Portman's voice came clearly over the line.
Fulton removed himself entirely from the sitting room, shut the door on his younger sister and brother who were watching The Smurfs, followed the phone cord all the way back to the hall and took a seat on the floor. "Hey." Fulton said tonelessly.
"What's up? And why are you at home? Were the dorms really that grim?"
"No, I quit." Fulton replied, which wasn't a lie – he just hadn't bothered to tell anyone that he was going back tomorrow. The truth was, he was still considering hanging out with Charlie tomorrow, despite what he'd said.
"You quit? Why? Have you had a fight with the Ducks?"
"The Ducks are dead, Portman. Completely and utterly. If you had bothered to leave Chicago, you'd know that."
"What do you mean, they're dead?"
"I mean the team that was once the Ducks are now the Eden Hall Warriors, I mean Bombay isn't around to make it feel like the Ducks, I mean the new coach, Orion, is a complete ass. Add to that Banksie isn't even on the team any more, I'd say 'dead' sums us up just fine." Fulton snapped, almost glad that Portman had called so he could take his anger out on someone who would understand. He was even almost glad Portman had ditched them because it meant that Fulton could offload on him completely guilt-free.
"Adam quit too?" Portman sounded very sceptical.
"No, Adam made Varsity. He's the enemy now – apparently we've got to keep the healthy rivalry between JV and Varsity going."
"He never said." Portman said quietly.
"Yeah, because you guys were so close. Let me think back to your last conversation with him… 'don't tell me how to talk, rich boy'." Fulton knew he was making this conversation unnecessarily difficult, but he couldn't seem to help it. Everything seemed so new and different at Eden Hall, Portman wasn't there, Adam was on another team, Charlie had a real attitude… Charlie was just a lot different, and Charlie had always been a constant in his life. Charlie was, for lack of a better way to put it, the nice one on the team. Now he was arrogant, stubborn and egotistical; he never used to lie, now he seemed exceptionally furtive.
"It's not just you I keep in touch with." Portman said defensively. "I talk to a few of the other Ducks."
"You know, if you'd come to Eden Hall, it would really save on your phone bill."
"The way you're talking there's no point, the Ducks are dead, aren't they?" Portman said lightly.
"Yeah." Fulton sighed tiredly. Offloading on Portman wasn't actually doing him any good. Portman was taking anything Fulton threw at him with surprising good grace, and now Fulton was just tired. "Yeah, the day Charlie throws a punch at Adam, you know the team has died."
"What?"
"And the day your team sells you out for a damned scholarship…" Fulton added.
"Stop. Rewind. Charlie hit Adam? Why?"
"It's Varsity, man. They hate us, we hate them, and Adam's one of them…"
"So you ditched your friend because he was good enough to make another team? I can't believe you did that, Fult. I though you were…" Portman sighed, making a faint hrrr down the phone. "Varsity hates you – I bet they're not fond of Adam and he's enemies with the people who are supposed to be his friends? I can't believe this. I just never thought I'd see you sell your friend out like that."
"Sell out?" Fulton's anger began to flow back. "I can't believe you – of all damned people – are accusing me of selling out! You're the one who couldn't be bothered to come to Eden with us. You were the first sell out!"
"Is that what you think? Didn't you even read that letter I sent?"
"Must have been real important if you couldn't even call me to tell me."
"Screw this, Fult. I don't need this aggravation. I've got my reasons, but if you didn't bother to find them out, then it's your problem, not mine." There was a click, then a dial tone.
Fulton sighed and replaced the handset.
Almost instantly it rang again. Fulton picked up. "I don't need this aggravation either!" He snapped, forgoing any preamble.
There was a silence, then a small choked voice said, "Is that Fulton?"
Fulton blushed, cleared his throat and started again. "Yes it is. I'm sorry, I thought it was someone else. Who is this?"
"Fulton, it's Casey, Charlie's mom."
"Hey, Mrs Conway, what can I do for you?" He asked in alarm, she sounded like she had been crying, and he couldn't remember a time when any of his friend's parents called for him. While it was true that his mother worked at the same diner as Casey, they didn't call for social chit-chat, they were both too busy. This call was certainly for him. "Is Charlie ok?"
"I – I don't know… I mean, yes. I think… No, it's not Charlie, it's Hans."
Fulton took a deep shaky breath and waited for her to continue.
She composed herself and started again, her tone was no longer shaky, but it still wasn't her usual voice. "Hans passed away this evening, when I told Charlie he went out for a walk. I let him, he's an only child, he likes to figure things out for himself… even as a child he always liked to process… like the time when his mouse escaped and… I guess that's not the point… but it's been almost three hours and with you being his friend, I thought…"
"Would you like me to go look for him, Mrs Conway?" He offered, when he worked out the main points she was trying to express.
"I know he spend the day with you, so I thought… I could send Alan, but… well…"
Fulton understood immediately, Alan was Casey's husband. He seemed a very nice guy, but Charlie had never quite forgiven Alan for not being Bombay. Given Charlie's recent attitude, coupled with the loss of the Ducks and Hans in one day, he wouldn't have wanted to send Alan after Charlie either. "I'm sure he's fine, but I'll go and find him." He paused. "I'm very sorry about Hans. He was a real nice guy." He winced, you weren't supposed to call dead people a 'real nice guy', you were meant to use words like 'wonderful' or 'inspirational', but Fulton didn't think it would have sounded sincere.
"He was, wasn't he." It wasn't a question.
"I'll bring Charlie home to you."
A few minutes later he hung up the phone again. His mother was standing above him, a concerned expression on her face.
"You're not having a good day, are you, son?"
Fulton shook his head. "Hans died."
She pursed her lips and shook her head. "I'm sorry. I liked him."
"We all did."
"And now you have to go out and find your friend." She offered her hand to him and pulled him up off the floor. For such a compact woman, her strength was impressive.
"Yeah."
"You do that then." She gave him a quick half-hug, leaning into him and patting his back. The gesture was appreciated as neither she nor Fulton were particularly demonstrative with their emotions.
It wasn't really hard to find Charlie, but Fulton understood that Casey hadn't sent him search for Charlie, he had been sent to keep him company and stop him from doing something stupid.
Charlie, naturally, was at the pond they used to skate on when they were District 5. Fulton always felt a little like he was intruding when he came here, he hadn't been part of their team then, he was just a guy who lurked in the background and scared off the Hawks for them. Mostly without the team's knowledge. He had always prided himself on being protector of the team, but had never really thought about joining. He saw himself more as their mascot.
He took a seat on the bench beside Charlie.
"Did my mother send you?" Charlie spat out.
"Yes. But I would have come even if she hadn't." Fulton replied mildly.
"Why bother? You're just another thing I'm going to have to do without."
"Says who?"
"You, for one. You're going back to Eden Hall tomorrow. Don't worry, I'm used to it by now, my dad, Bombay and all the guys in-between them, the Ducks, Hans… You're just a name on a long list."
Fulton took a deep breath. "I'm not going anywhere. Just because I want an education doesn't mean we can't be friends. The Ducks are there, no matter what they're called."
"Should've known about Bombay too. Look how he was over the summer, bit of fame and he ditches us. Even before that – he was getting famous playing hockey, couldn't be bothered to call my mom. No wonder she found someone else. Alan'll probably be the next to leave."
"He will if you give him as much attitude as you're giving everyone else at the moment!" Fulton snapped. "You're acting like this is only about you. We all feel cheated by Bombay, we all resent Orion for taking away our jerseys and we're all gonna miss Hans. So stop acting like you're the only one in pain here, Charlie. I miss Portman, did you ever think of that?" He sighed and thought of Portman's words. "And I bet Adam misses us – at least we stayed together against Varsity. He's all by himself, against us and them! Everyone's screwed up at the moment. It doesn't make you special."
"Thanks for the pep-talk, coach." Charlie sneered.
Fulton sighed deeply.
"It's just… things… it sucks, y'know? Everything just sucks!" Charlie exploded finally.
Charlie slumped forward on the bench, his face in his hands. Fulton moved a little closer and put a hand on Charlie's shoulder, squeezing lightly. "Things do suck. The way my mom tells it, that's life. Things happen, things suck, and every so often things are great. Apparently things need to suck so you can really appreciate it when they don't."
"That's great." Charlie said flatly, the fight gone from his voice.
"Do you want me to lie? Shall I tell you that this is just a blip, things are gonna be great from now on, 'cos you've done your time. You've had the sucky phase and you're done?"
"I want that to be the truth."
Fulton moved closer and put his arm around Charlie. "Yeah, me too."
Fulton delivered Charlie home at around 3am, he tried not to linger too long. Casey was making maternal noises and wanted to feed Fulton and give him a nice hot drink to warm him up. It wasn't just that Casey's parenting differed from the kind he was used to (if the positions had been reversed, Nancy would have told them that she had put the kettle on, but now she knew they were safe she was off to bed – if they were hungry there was probably something in the fridge), it was also he felt a little uncomfortable seeing Casey and her husband walking around the apartment in their robes.
He arrived home about twenty minutes later. Surprisingly, his mother had waited up and having seen him walk up to the door, she had made him a cup of tea.
"Sit." She ordered when he poked his head around the door to let her know he was home and safe and going straight to bed.
He obligingly did so. Nancy made two cups of very strong tea with lots of sugar. "How are you, kid?"
"I'm tired, Ma." He said pointedly.
"So am I, and I've got the breakfast shift tomorrow. At least you can doze in class."
Fulton gave her a look.
"Believe it or not, I was a teenager once. And I meant how are you? Not physically."
"I don't know." He replied.
She shook her head. "I just don't know whether that's the truth or whether you're not going to tell me because I'm your mother."
"I think it's the truth."
"Well, that's better. Take your tea up to bed, try not to wake Liv and Barney."
"Thanks, Ma." He got up and made for the stairs.
"I'll wake you an hour before the taxi gets here."
Fulton stopped dead.
"Yes, my son. I am ordering a taxi to take you to school tomorrow. I will have no arguments. Aside from everything I have already said to you about your education, it's far more practical for you to live on campus. Aunt Sarah is coming to stay with us on Tuesday, and even if she weren't, the twins are going to need separate rooms soon, they're almost five."
"You're booting me out because the house is too small?" Fulton asked, he was almost amused. Only his mother could remain so fantastically pragmatic at nearly four am. And also manipulative. A taxi was a luxury the Reed family did without, the buses were pretty good, if his mother was going to pay for a taxi ride she knew Fulton's sense of guilt over the cost would keep him in school, even if everything else told him to run for the hills.
"Yes. Now, bed. And don't slop your tea on the carpet on your way up."
Fulton shook his head in weary defeat. "Ok, you win. I'll go back."
"Good. I took the liberty of packing your bags for you. Also, while I was tidying your room I found something that might be of interest to you, I left it on your bedside table. Now, scoot. Bed."
Fulton made his way upstairs and collapsed on his bed. His mother had obviously vented her worry at Fulton's lateness on his room because it was spotless. His bed was neatly made, all of his clothes (that he hadn't taken to Eden Hall) were either put away neatly or in the laundry hamper in the corner, (except a black suit, white shirt and tie which were neatly pressed and hanging outside his closet), even his posters had been hung straight instead of their usual haphazard formation. She had even unfolded one of his bandanas and used it as a cover for his bedside table.
Sitting up proudly, propped against his lamp, was the famous letter from Portman. His mother had even done her best to flatten it. After hearing second-hand from Bombay that Portman wasn't taking up his scholarship Fulton had crumpled the letter and flung it to a far corner of his room and done his best to forget about it.
He sighed, took another sip of his tea, and opened it. Portman's penmanship was akin to the results if someone steamrollered a hundred spiders on a sheet of college-rule paper. He didn't set up letters the way English teachers liked, and it started abruptly:
Dude, I gotta tell you why I'm not coming to Eden. I don't want this going round the Ducks, but I figure we're like brothers and I can trust you with this. Look, did I ever tell you what my mom's philosophy about parenting is? I think she watched Lost Boys too many times, because it goes like this: boys need a family, a mom and a dad.
I think she's waiting for that dude – what's his name, Edward Herrman? – to put in an appearance (minus the teeth and that butt-ugly jacket of his). Anyway, after we got back from the Goodwill Games, she'd found another 'father figure' for me. He was nice, we liked him. Until we found out that he was a lush. He'd been on the wagon all the time he was with her, up until about two weeks after he moved in. I don't know what set him off, but he picked up the bottle again – turns out he's not a nice drunk. Mom and I made a couple of trips to the Emergency Room before we managed to get him out the house. We changed the locks and called the police and that was that.
Until he showed up again, he'd holler at mom and threaten to kick the door in, we called the police every time, but you gotta understand, I can't leave Mom alone at the moment. It's just her, and it's a ground floor apartment. What if he actually kicks the door in before the police get there? He's already hurled a rock through a window. Look, I'll try and work things out, once this is all sorted I'll come to Eden, but I just can't at the moment.
I wanted to call you about this, but Mom's proud, she doesn't like people knowing about our business, she'd be real hurt if she heard me talking about this on the phone, so it was easier to write it all down and post it out to you. I hope you get this before Bombay calls – he's working on a way to let me come to school a semester late. He's a good guy. Too bad he couldn't stick around, but you gotta see his point of view. That's a great job offer, and you can't really expect the guy to put his entire life on hold just to make us happy.
Call me when you get this. We can't talk about it, but just call me anyway.
Later, bro.
Portman.
Fulton rubbed his forehead and sighed deeply. "I'm an ass." He decided.