Disclaimer: All characters in this fanfiction belong to Warner Bros. Studios, apart from Monty's family.
Chapter 7
The First Day of School (Part 2)
29th Nov
Monty couldn't remember ever starting a school year so badly. He spent the rest of the day drowning in his depression and not talking to anyone. At some point, Elmyra tried to make him feel better by proposing to go see a movie at the weekend. "You can choose this time." She said, hoping it would cheer him up.
But all Monty felt capable of was muttering a somber "Yeah, whatever.", before going back to his own troubling thoughts. Not even the sight of a completely miserable-looking Buster entering Prof. Road Runner's class, a few minutes after the bell rang, could improve his mood. All he could think of was his Father and what he would say once he found out about that day. He could already see the cold, dark eyes narrowing in his direction and hear the thunderous voice, filled with rebuke, echoing in his head. It sent a chill down his spine.
After what seemed like an eternity, the final bell rang and the students ran out of Acme Loo, ready for a relaxing afternoon. Monty was among the last ones to leave, slumping rather than walking on his way out. The white limousine was already waiting and Grovely opened the door for him to get inside.
He gulped. Feeling that someone was behind him, he turned around and, sure enough, Elmyra was looking at him from a few feet away. When his dark eyes met hers, a reassuring smile brightened her freckled face, and she gave him a thumbs-up.
Saying that the gesture had eased Monty's anxiety would have been a lie. He was far, far away from being calm. Yet, for whatever reason, he felt a tiny part of the weight inside him evaporate. He nodded shortly in her direction, before slowly turning his gaze back to the limousine. Taking a deep breath, as if he was about to dive into the abyss of the ocean, Monty stepped inside. The door slammed shut and Grovely sped off immediately.
The ride home was quiet. Monty didn't utter a word and so, Grovely didn't either. It was always the boy who initiated the conversations between them and if he wasn't talking, then the butler knew better than to try and bother him. After a while, though, Monty felt like he couldn't take it anymore. Pushed by both curiosity and dread, the question that had been sitting on his lips ever since he had left Sam's office spilled into the silence of the car.
"Is Father mad?"
The butler sighed, keeping his eyes on the road.
"I can't say that Master Richard is in a peaceful state BUT," he added seeing the boy's disheartened expression, "I do think he is more preoccupied by work than by anything you might've done, Sir." Monty didn't respond. Instead, he gazed out the window and started fidgeting with his seatbelt. While he found Grovely's attempt to comfort him reassuring, to some extent, he couldn't say he was now content either. None of them spoke anymore until they reached the mansion.
As the immense golden gates with dollar symbols on them opened, Monty gritted his teeth. It seemed like the moment he would face his Father's reprimands was drawing closer and closer. Trying to calm down, he rested his forehead on the window and closed his eyes, thinking of what Grovely had told him a few minutes ago. He desperately wanted to believe that his Father wouldn't care, like it usually was whenever Monty picked on someone at school. Everytime a teacher called Mr. Max, to tell him that his son had made a student cry, for example, the man simply answered that he couldn't be bothered and hung up. This was mainly the reason the teachers stopped calling Monty's parents and started dealing with the boy on their own. But this situation was completely different, and Monty knew it. Here, he hadn't just bullied someone, but he had damaged the school. Even if it wasn't completely destroyed, the cafeteria still was a mess that for sure would take a few more days to clean. This wasn't just a minor thing that people could forget and overlook, but something that would make other parents talk and point fingers at them. And if there was one thing that Richard cared for greatly, maybe even more than making profit, that was the family's public image; the very image Monty had just tainted with his actions. He wasn't sure his Father would ignore this so easily.
Sighing, the boy opened his eyes. The breath-taking, huge garden, painted in autumn's colors, immediately flooded his view. However, Monty didn't - couldn't - appreciate its beauty. Not when the anxiety was pulling on his heartstrings like that.
But, as Grovely drove up the half-mile long driveway and around the fountain, the boy spotted something ahead of them, something that immediately chased away all his worrying thoughts and made him sit up straight. Squinting his eyes, in order to make sure that his mind wasn't playing any tricks on him, he mumbled a barely audible "What the-", before shaking his head in confusion. Right at the mansion's door, as if waiting for them, stood Jeeves, Gabriel and Olympia's tuxedoed butler. Grovely pulled up right in front of him and the middle-aged man opened Monty's door.
"Good afternoon, Sir." Jeeves said, dryly.
Monty looked at him, an eyebrow raised, as he stepped out of the vehicle. "What are you still doing here? Haven't Uncle Gabriel and Olympia left in the morning?"
"Oh, Master Gabriel left indeed." The butler replied, his voice emotionless, as if he was just presenting the weather. "However, Miss Achreios is still here, and she will be for as long as it is necessary." Then, without another word, Jeeves turned away from the boy and went to park the limousine, leaving a perplexed Monty gaping after him.
As he and Grovely entered the mansion, questions atop other questions invaded his mind. Why was his uncle's fiancée still in his house? Why hadn't she left along with Uncle Gabriel? Did his Father ask her to remain? Or did she decide that on her own? It was all very confusing, as it had never happened before. His parents - especially his Father - saw lingering around someone else's house as very bad form. Since he was little, Richard had taught him to stay at an event for exactly as long as it was needed, not a minute more or less. This belief was shared by his relatives as well and thus, they acted the same. Every time they had a family reunion, everyone stayed for a few hours, maybe a few days, like it had happened on that Thanksgiving, but the instant it was over, they all left. So, the fact that Olympia was still there and not with her future husband, at their house, was. . . surprising, so to speak.
"Master Monty." Grovely's composed tone suddenly pulled him out of his internal turmoil.
"Oh, what now?!" The boy snapped, somewhat annoyed at the abrupt interruption of his thoughts.
"My apologies for nagging you, Sir, but Master Richard has asked me to send you to his office as soon as we get home."
Monty's heart sank. Oh. Right. He still needed to talk to his Father about that day. Forgetting all about his earlier dilemma, he gathered up all the courage he had and marched upstairs, towards Richard's office.
With each step, he felt his feet getting heavier, as if they were made of concrete, and the sinking feeling in his stomach became more prominent than all day. His heart pounded faster with each turn and soon, he felt like he was going to faint. "Ok, Monty." He whispered to himself, trying to soothe his nervousness. "Be calm now. This can't be so bad. It's not like I directly embarrassed my family. It's just some food scattered around the cafeteria, no big deal! I'm sure if I try to explain it to him, he won't be as mad as - OW! HEY! Watch where you're going!" He shouted to the person he had just bumped in.
But, when he took a better look at who it was, his eyes went wide. In front of him, stood a tall, slim woman, with golden-blonde hair, flawless skin and sapphire blue eyes, dressed in a beautiful red business-dress.
"Aunt Celestine?!" Monty exclaimed in bewilderment. "What are you doing here?! Your flight to England took off this morning!"
Celestine, who was now picking up some papers she dropped when they collided, waved a hand dismissively in his direction. "Oh, no, it's fine. Only Charles and Zach went back. I stayed here to help Richard out."
"But why?" The boy asked, feeling confused as well as a bit annoyed.
"Well," The woman explained. "There is a lot of work to be done at the company, especially in this period of time. Don't forget that Thanksgiving just passed, and December is just around the corner." Picking up the last paper, she looked at Monty and said, "Well, got to get back to work now." With that, she flashed one of her impeccable smiles at him and then hurried down the hallway, vanishing as quickly as she had appeared.
Monty stared after her, even a minute after she was out of sight. Then, slowly turning away, he started walking again. 'What in Chuck Jones' name is going here?', he wondered. How busy could his Father be that he asked two family members that lived outside of Acme Acres to stay over for God knew how long? Their schedule was always crowded this time of the year, but not once had Richard asked any of them to stay over and help.
His head spinning, Monty entered his Father's office, which happened to be empty now. He sighed tiredly and took a seat in front of Richard's desk, leaning his cheek onto his balled fist. As his mind went abuzz, his eyes started roaming around the room. They wandered across the walls, across the shelves where different papers, records and books rested, across the thick drapes that only allowed a thread of sunlight to enter, across the brownish couch in the corner and, finally, they laid on the photos in front of him.
The closest to him just happened to be the black-and-white one, with his Father, his siblings and Charles when they were little. They were standing in front of the mansion, along with their parents, while smiling at the camera. It was weird seeing his family like that. They all looked so young and so. . . different. It wasn't just because of their age, there was something else, but Monty couldn't exactly make out what it was. All these years, whenever he saw the photo, he would try to figure out what was so unusual about them, beside the appearance, but he never succeeded. Cocking his head to the side a bit, he slowly extended his hand and took the photo in his hands.
Suddenly, the door burst open with such big force the room slightly shook. Monty jumped in alarm, hit the ceiling, then fell back onto the chair, dropping the framed picture on the carpet. Heart still beating fast, he looked up and saw Angelina, staring at him, undoubtedly surprised by his reaction.
"Next time, Ma, why don't ya just break the door down?" Monty snapped at her. "Maybe you'll succeed at giving me a heart attack!"
"Sorry, dear." She said apologetically and closed the door. "I didn't mean to scare you like that. It's just that I have a lot on my mind."
Giving her one last dirty look, Monty bent over and picked up the photo. Luckily, it wasn't damaged, so he placed it back on the desk, arranging it slightly, so it didn't look like it had been moved. Turning back to his mom, he was a bit taken aback when he saw her pacing around the office, with a more-than-slightly concerned look on her face.
"Uh, everything ok, Ma?" Monty asked.
Angelina stopped and turned to him. For a moment she seemed to consider whether to tell him. After a few seconds she finally spoke in an unusual low voice.
"Well, I am a bit worried. . . about our family."
Monty blinked. "What do you mean?"
The woman looked around, as if expecting someone to be hiding in the office, listening to what they were saying, before answering with a question of her own.
"Did you, by any chance, see any of our relatives around here when you arrived?"
"Uhh," Monty stammered. "Well, I've seen Aunt Celestine wandering around and heard that Olympia was still here, but I-"
"Exactly!" Angelina exclaimed, startling the boy. "And don't you think it's a bit strange that they are still here?"
"Um, yeah, kinda. But I don't see why it's such a-"
"I mean, why would they stay?" Angelina interrupted him again. "They have no reason to. Especially since Richard didn't even ask them in the first place, they offered themselves."
Now, that last bit caught Monty's attention. "Wait, what do you mean?"
"Yesterday evening, after you went to bed, I was in here, with your Father, Nigel and Lydia. We were looking over some papers, when Olympia and Gabriel entered. They started saying all this stuff about how, now that the holiday season is approaching, we must be 'very busy'", she made air quotes with her fingers. "Then, they proposed that Olympia remained here and helped around, or whatever."
"But I don't understand." Said Monty, an eyebrow raised. "Why would she need to stay here to help? She can do work from her home."
"I know!" Angelina blurted out. "That's why I thought it was weird, too! But Rich accepted that immediately, thinking it was an 'excellent idea'. And then, as if it wasn't enough, Charles and Celestine walked in and proposed the exact same thing, using the exact same reasons. To which Richard said yes. Again." She threw her hands in the air in exasperation.
"Something's going on." Angelina added after a short pause. "Something is definitely going on and it can't be anything good. I think they're hiding something. But what? Does it have to do with this Thanksgiving?" She wondered out loud and started pacing again.
Meanwhile, Monty tried to process everything Angelina had said. The situation was becoming stranger and stranger and, by this time, he was truly confused. He thought about everything that had happened these past few days. First, his relatives showered him with smiles, compliments and gifts on Thanksgiving, when usually, they would just ignore him, then they almost killed each other at the dinner table, and now, just as they were about to leave and things were supposed to go back to normal, this happened! Not to mention how unnerving his mother's behavior was. Monty had never seen her this worried before and he always assisted at her mental breakdowns whenever stress took over! But, despite her paranoid demeanor, Monty vaguely wondered if there was still some truth in her words. . . Maybe they were indeed hiding something. . .
Just then, his pondering came to a halt as voices echoed from the hallway. Not even a second later, the door opened once again to reveal Richard, followed by Lydia, Nigel, Olympia and Celestine.
"And remember, Lydia," Richard said sternly towards his sister, while marching towards his desk and completely ignoring Monty and Angelina. "The reports must be ready by next week. Monday, at 8 AM, I want them on my desk."
"Yes, Sir." She responded, carrying a bunch of papers which, Monty assumed, were the said reports.
"Nigel, I want you to help her. I don't care how you two organize, just get the job done. And none of your usual quarrels, understood?"
"You got it, Rich. Don't worry, Lydia and I will get along like a house on fire." Nigel said, nonchalantly.
'Yeah, the house being this one after you two finish arguing.' Monty couldn't help but think.
"And as for you," Richard added, turning to Olympia and Celestine. "You are going to be answering some emails from possible clients I didn't have the time to answer myself." The two didn't look too excited, to say the least, but wisely chose not to comment.
Richard sat down at his desk and, as he did so, his eyes laid on his son. "Oh, it's you." He remarked coldly. "I heard what you did today at school."
Monty gulped. "In my defense, I didn't - "
Richard held up a hand and the boy went quiet. "I don't want your excuses. What you did was unacceptable, and I don't want you to try and justify it. Understand?" Monty nodded.
"Good. Now, you know, usually I don't care what you do at school, how much homework you get, who you hit or who you don't hit. That is solely your problem and your teachers', not mine."
"But," The man added, with emphasis, "the moment you damage school property so badly that your mentor has to call me and tell me that it will possibly take a few days to clean up your mess, that's when I can't ignore it anymore! What were you even thinking, boy?! Do you realize how badly you've embarrassed me?!" Monty flinched at the sound of his Father's voice.
"I assume you know what comes now, don't you?" The man asked, still frowning at his son.
Monty nodded, not daring to look him in the eye. "My punishment." He said, his voice barely working.
"That's right. Now let's see." Richard leaned back into his chair and began to think. "It must be something that will make you think twice before you do something like this again. Hmm." He scratched his chin, thoughtfully, searching for answers.
There was a pause, during which no one made a sound. Instead, everyone eyed them, awaiting to see what was going to happen. Meantime, Monty's heart was doing backflips in his chest. What was going to happen now? What was his Father going to do? Cut his allowance? Lock him up in his room forever? Send him to the military school? To a labor camp? To Boy Scouts? Each one of those possibilities made his hair stand up.
He glanced up at his mother, imploring her to do something. Angelina, however, didn't say anything, even though Monty suspected she could feel his gaze. Instead, she stepped closer to him and, still not looking at him, placed her hands on his shoulders, in a somehow reassuring manner. Monty turned his eyes away from her, feeling his last hope die out, like the last ray of twilight getting swallowed by the night's darkness.
"I think I know what to do, Rich." The unexpected voice took everyone by surprise, and they all turned to its owner.
It was Lydia who spoke. Even though she herself looked a bit caught off-guard by her own words, her composure didn't desert her. Instead, she kept her head high and a straight face.
"Well." Richard said. "What's your suggestion, Lydia?"
"I think that a productive way for Monty to serve his punishment is if he would help us with work at the company." She said, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "Take those reports, for example. We need to finish them by Monday, next week, and if Monty would help us, it would take a lot less and he might also learn a thing or two. Plus, it's almost December, which means that the holidays are almost here. Having another helping hand would be to our advantage."
Richard listened to her talking, a pensive look on his face. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke. "You know what? That might work. How were you planning to organize yourself?"
"I was thinking that Nigel can do half of the reports, while me and Monty do the other one. It seems only fair, since I don't think the boy has much experience with these things and I could help him."
As she finished her sentence, to everyone's shock, Richard's expression melted into one of apparent satisfaction. "Hm. I must admit, Lydia. That is not a bad suggestion. Not bad at all. Fine, we'll do it."
At this, Lydia's eyes with dark circles underneath them lightened up and a proud smile crept upon her face. The rest of the adults, however, did not have the same reaction. Olympia and Celestine scowled in her direction, while Angelina furrowed her brows suspiciously, looking from Lydia to Richard and then back to her sister-in-law. But none of them was even close to being as furious as Nigel was. He gave his sister the most poisonous look one could imagine, his dark eyes burning with savage fire and his fist clenching behind his back. If looks could kill Lydia would have surely dropped dead by then.
Richard, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice and so, clasped his hands together. "Alright, then. It's settled. Monty, from this moment on, until the end of the holiday season you will help around the company, starting by doing the reports with Lydia."
"But Dad." Monty whined. "December is a very busy month for me. I have some important exams coming up before Christmas and I need to-"
"You should've thought of that before you wrecked the cafeteria." Richard snapped, making the boy instantly shut his mouth. "Now quit your whining and go to your room."
Deciding that pushing it any further would only cause more trouble, Monty groaned in his mind and walked out, forgetting to even close the door behind him. But, at that point, he was way too annoyed and lost in his thoughts to care.
"Angie, shut the door, will you? Apparently, Monty was raised in a barn and doesn't know how to use one properly." Richard said, absently, and started looking over some papers.
Angelina did as she was told and went to shut the door. However, before doing so, she glanced down the hallway at her angry boy, marching towards his room and kicking the air. At the sight, worry took a hold of her and the events from earlier started replaying in her head. Lydia's suggestion, just like her in-laws staying over, made her feel uneasy. She didn't know why, it wasn't anything plainly wrong with it. It just unnerved her. Sighing, she finally closed the door, still thinking of her son and, as she started her paperwork, the same question that haunted Professor Sam at lunchtime emerged in her mind. 'What am I going to do with you, Monty?'
