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Toy Story: Mister Spaceman

Chapter 5: Turning Red

Some people called it the Lamplight Tree.

According to college history, it was where John Luxo, under the glow of lamps hanging from its branches, had laid down the foundations for his university. An endeavour that he had stated was needed more than ever in light of the Great War. "Truth from illumination," he had said, to those gathered before him.. A way of spreading knowledge across the country, throughout the world, and to better humanity. To improve the world through wisdom rather than power.

You didn't have to do History 101 to realize that hadn't panned out too well. Even now, in the 21st century, war wasn't the distant memory that John Luxo had dreamed it might be.

Still, the name had stuck, as had his ideals. Ideals that weren't strong enough to make college education free, but similarly, you didn't need to take an economics course to understand that there was no such thing as a free lunch. Which, in actual fact, cost $4.95.

Or at least Andy's did – an egg and salad sandwich that he chewed through. Leaning against the tree and staring at his laptop, the leaves and branches providing shade for computer and operator alike. The screen not so bright that he couldn't see, his hands not so sweaty that he couldn't type.

It was July. Summer was here, the birds were singing, and Nick and Dwyer were attending a pool party today, but work waited for no man. Whether it be the work of academia, or his part-time job in Barnes & Noble. The pay wasn't great, but it kept a roof under his head, and food in his belly.

Hannah had her own part-time job as well – office work in a legal firm a few blocks from the university. But today, she was lying on the ground beside him, belly down. Whispering terms under her breath that only shrinks would understand. Every so often helping herself to some of the chips she had beside her, as if it was some kind of reward. But otherwise, she lay there. Reading through her book, and jotting down notes.

For awhile though, she'd been silent. No words under her breath, no pages of her book turned. All that turned were her strands of hair, drenched with sweat, and the rest of her face little better. And while he knew it was none of his business, he still asked if she was alright.

She didn't answer.

"Hannah?"

She didn't answer.

"Earth to Hannah, are you receiving me? This is a priority one distress call."

"Sorry, what?"

"Warning, warning, the Gamma Quadrant in Sector Four is under attack." He laughed at his own joke, and clicked his fingers in front of her eyes. "You touched down?"

"Um, sure." She went back to her book.

"Really? You seemed a thousand miles away."

"Just thinking," she murmured. "And remembering."

"Remembering what?"

"Family stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Dinner table stuff, okay? Now quit bothering me."

Andy could tell that she didn't want to talk about it. But that wasn't necessarily the same as not wanting to speak at all. So, watching Hannah put another chip into her mouth, he spoke up.

"You know eating that much salt isn't good for you."

She rolled her eyes. "You a doctor now?"

"I'm just saying."

"And you know as well as I do that eggs contain cholesterol." She smirked. "Checkmate, doc."

"Please, that's a false equivalence and you know it."

She shrugged, and helped herself to another chip, while holding the box up to Andy.

"Hannah, you know I don't-"

"Come on, live a little."

After a moment's hesitation, Andy obliged. He was more of a pizza guy, and in his pre-teen years, he and his mum had formed a habit of dining out at Pizza Planet, Molly later joining in. A habit he'd reigned in once he'd become a teenager, as he'd gone through his little league. Winning more than one trophy in the process, and staying in shape, because those goals weren't going to score themselves.

It was a trait he'd retained in his time at Luxo. Being on a student's budget didn't make it easy, but good choices and regular exercise had helped him retain his figure. His shirt had accumulated patches of sweat in the summer heat, but it wasn't too far gone from what he'd worked up on a good workout.

But, chips were chips, and the chips weren't bad. And despite being well aware of what they could do to him, he admitted as such to Hannah.

"See? Told you." She helped herself to a couple more, before lying back down on the grass beside him. Brushing her hair aside as she went back to going over the book.

Perking up, aren't you? Andy reflected, before returning to his laptop. Frowning as he saw the wireless connection give out again. The frown fading, as he glanced at the girl beside him.

Two months ago, he'd stuck his foot into the proverbial pond. Calling Hannah outside his dorm, the pair working out their respective timetables, and finding a time and place to meet, namely the mini-mall opposite the university. What had followed was a series of on and off meetings, none of which he'd call dates (despite what Nick and Dwyer said), but not exactly just get-togethers either.

There was a…spark, he wondered? A trigger? A shine? He couldn't say. Maybe there was a scientific term in one of Hannah's textbooks. Written in a language he couldn't understand, let alone read.

Even so, that didn't stop Hannah from talking. Over the last two months, she'd become less shy. More confident in herself. She smiled more. Laughed more. And in the summer sun, there was a light to her as well. One coming from inside, as much as out.

"God I'm done with this." She slammed the textbook with a thump and looked at Andy. "How's your short coming?"

"Fine," he answered tersely.

"Can I see?"

"No." He pulled the laptop screen down.

"Oh, you're no fun." She lay back on the ground. "You never show me anything."

"Well, it's not like you don't have your own secrets," Andy said.

"Like what?"

"Like how you got into psychology in the first place." And your family stuff that you won't talk about.

A shadow passed over Hannah's face, and it wasn't because of the branches. She sat up, and looked at Andy. Said in a whisper, "let's just say it was a way to get out of the house."

"I'm sorry?"

She sighed, and closed the book with a thump. "You know how you never talk about your father?"

Andy remained silent.

"Well, I'll tell you about mine. He was unemployed half of the time, and the other half, either boozing, or lying on the couch working off the booze. My mum put up with him, like she did my brother. Let him get away with anything. Bend my arm, nothing. Break my toys, nothing. Steal my homework, nothing."

He frowned, unsure of what to say. Molly could be a brat at times, but she'd never gone so far. Nor had he ever terrorized her.

"Things changed a bit the day you left, though," Hannah continued, turning her gaze aside. "My brother got all weird – less of a dick, just weird in other ways – and we had to give Scud away."

"Scud?"

"Our dog. You might have seen him. Or heard him."

Andy didn't say anything. Seen? No. Heard? Definitely. Even more than the periodic detonations from Sid's yard. More than once, barks had woken up Molly in the middle of the night, and more than once, he'd had to get her back to sleep.

"He went barrelling down the road for some reason," Hannah continued. "Ended up causing a car crash at a cross junction. He was fine, but, well, there were a lot of angry people. Which meant an angry dad, and a spineless mum. And Sid…well, he wouldn't come out of his room for a week."

Andy remained silent. Wondering, however unlikely, if Scud had chased after their moving van. Or whether he should comment on the irony that Hannah had lost her dog the same year he'd got his. Though Buster, who for all his hyperactivity, had never caused a car crash. Buster, who now that he thought about his old pet, probably didn't have long for this world.

Least he has mum, Andy thought. And Molly.

"I envied you, you know," Hannah murmured. "There were times when I'd peak over the fence…you'd be playing in your yard…Cowboys and Indians, that sort of thing…or Cops and Robbers…no elder sibling, no dad yelling at you, no deadbeat mother, no toys with their heads missing, you…well, you were having so much fun. Getting into gunfights, playing with that cowboy doll…"

Woody, Andy reflected. Best sheriff in the wild backyard. "Why didn't you ever say hello?"

"And ruin your fun?" she whispered.

"Hannah, I…I wouldn't have…I mean…I didn't know, and…" Sweat glistened on his forehead, heat coming from a source other than the sun.

"Hey, it's fine," she said, forcing a smile. "Things change, people leave, people move on, right?"

Andy, still silent, wracked his brains. It had been Sheriffs and Varmits rather than Cops and Robbers for starters, but that seemed academic right now. The notion that Hannah had been peaking at him all that time, despite the two never saying anything to each other…

Romantic? Tragic? Creepy? He couldn't say.

"So here's to me," Hannah said. "I get to be a shrink and help people deal with all sorts of psych issues. Poetic, right?"

She had the look again, Andy reflected. The one she'd had two months ago, as she brushed her hair aside, and evaded his gaze. Only returning to meet his as he put a hand on her shoulder.

"I was never into poetry myself," he said. "But…well, for what it's worth, it seems like the poet writing your life kind of stuffed up."

She sniffed.

"I mean, if I'd stayed around a bit longer, you'd have seen my space cowboy phase."

She smiled. And kept smiling…

Right up until she kissed him.

Short, quick, and on the lips. She drew back as quickly as she'd moved forward, and shot him an embarrassed look. A look that wasn't needed, as Andy wasn't doing, or saying anything. He was just sitting there.

My first kiss.

Thinking.

I just had my first kiss.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I shouldn't have done that."

Didn't think it would be so wet.

"Andy?"

"Um…" He shook his head. "Sorry. What?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered, even as a bird landed in the tree above them and began to sing. "It's just…I mean, just sitting here, with you…now…I mean, summer heat makes people do weird things, and, like, I'm not in heat myself or anything, but-"

"Is this where you say you've been thinking about me for over a decade, and you're making up for lost time?"

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean…sort of?" She ran her hands over her eyes. "God, I'm sorry. I just wasn't thinking, and I…I mean, I was thinking of being a kid, but I'm an adult now, and there's times when I just want to scream, and wish I could just go back, and do it better, or…or something!" She lowered her hands, no longer hiding the tears forming along the edge of her eyes. "It's just, you looked so happy back then, and I thought…. I thought that if I tried to join in, my brother would follow me, and then you'd be unhappy, and-"

He kissed her. As brief a kiss as she'd given him. Sweat and skin mingled in the moment, as the bird sung, and the summer breeze conducted its tune. Branches swaying in the hot air, as Andy drew back. Feeling, for a moment, not so much as caught in summer, but in spring.

"Happy?" he whispered.

Hannah giggled, and hugged him. Drawing him in close. Whispered, in his ear.

"Happy," she said.

Happy, Andy reflected. For a moment, that was the emotion that carried him. Enveloped him through the moment.

"Andy?"

But as Hannah drew back, and saw the look on his face…

"Are you okay?"

His happiness turned to memory.

"Fine," he murmured, forcing a smile. "Absolutely fine."

And memory turned to lies. Because his mind was drifting. Sparked by discussion of their parents.

And thinking about what his father had done was never a pleasant memory.