A/N Thank you so much, as always, to everyone who read the last chapter! My determination to shorten the time between posts doesn't seem to be working yet, but I'm working on it! And rest assured, any delay is just because of good old, normal, real-life-getting-in-the-way issues and NOT because another two year hiatus has begun. This is a chapter that I've been waiting to write for a long time, so I hope you all enjoy. Stay safe, everyone!
SILENCING NATURE
Chapter 19 - Placing Old Blame
There are all sorts of reasons why a conversation can be difficult.
Sometimes, like when confessing your love in a moonlit jungle city, the excitement and uncertainty of the moment can seize your tongue and muddle your words. Other times, like when explaining to your child exactly why you never came home as you promised, the shame of what you have to say, and the fear of your partner's reaction, can weigh as heavily as a stone around your neck. What these conversations so often have in common, is that you know from the start that one or both parties could be hurt. That, and that the apprehension can be as bad as the talk itself, if not worse.
With all this in mind, it's understandable why so many of us put off talks like those for as long as we can, and far longer than we often should.
Apprehension is exactly what could be seen on the faces of four out of the five Shortmans as they made their way to the front lobby, in search of Eduardo. Only Phil still wore a look of anger, reflected further in his quick pace and clenched fists, and Gertie seemed to have once again shelved her trademark craziness for the time being. There was no sign of the man in the foyer, as they had hoped; only the same bored-looking receptionist, still present at her post. She perked up a little, at least, when Miles approached and asked in perfect, unbroken Spanish if she knew where Eduardo could be found. In fact, she seemed perfectly happy to help guide the group in his direction, pointing them out the front door, her smile only disappearing when Stella led her husband away by the arm, shooting a decidedly unfriendly look over her shoulder as they went.
Sure enough, they found Eduardo outside the hotel, leaning against the Helpers' beaten-up minivan and holding what sounded like an agitated conversation over the phone. Whatever the issue, he cut the call short as he noticed the family approach. The smile he sent their way faltered a little when it reached Arnold's grandma and grandpa.
"Mis amigos, it is wonderful to see you all together! Is everything alright?" He removed his hat, frowning slightly in concern. He'd assumed they would have preferred to stay with the remaining group, and none of them looked exactly happy at that moment...
"No, everything's not alright!" Phil immediately marched up to him, Eduardo's eyes widening as the older man prodded a bony, accusatory finger into his chest. "And I ain't your 'amigo'! Now just where do you get off lying to us for all these-"
"Phil!" Stella was the first to cut off the attack, positioning herself between the two men and gently pushing her father-in-law back. She sent Eduardo an apologetic look, though her own worry was more than apparent. "Sorry, Eduardo – was that an important call?"
The man spared an irritated glance at the cellphone still in his hand before answering. "Not really. One of the men that was taking care of your group this morning just called me from the road. Apparently he has decided to take a very sudden, extended sabbatical to go and visit family. In El Salvador..." He sighed, giving a weary shrug. "No importa. But, what is the matter?" He gave the family a confused, concerned look, particularly the still-fuming old man, though he had begun to feel a queasy knot form in his stomach the moment he had heard Phil's words.
"Well, speaking of leaving the country, the topic of actually getting everyone home came up." Miles answered, Eduardo's brow immediately rising as his friend's tic kicked in, the blond man awkwardly rubbing his neck. "So, obviously, we got talking about passports and how we left those with you for safekeeping, remember? Along with... you know... a few other things?"
Miles sent his friend an expectant look at that, hoping Eduardo got the obvious hint, his stomach rapidly growing a matching knot of its own. To his regret, Eduardo said nothing, though the man seemed to deflate, slightly hanging his head as if expecting a blow. Miles held the pause for as long as he could, feeling the apprehension press down on them both.
"Eduardo, did you tell my parents that our plane was lost?"
"I..." Eduardo's eyes darted across the faces of each Shortman, finally lingering on Arnold's for a drawn out moment before closing in resignation. "Yes."
A frown began to form on Miles' face. "But, you know that's not true." He tried to keep his own growing anger from his voice, though he could feel his pulse quickening. "We gave it to you to look after, after our last run to get ingredients for the cure. Why would you..? Did something happen to it?" Now it was Miles' turn to brace himself, Eduardo's ashen expression immediately readying him for the worst.
"Miles, I..." Eduardo took a deep breath, steeling himself, before meeting Miles' eye. "Your plane, you had gone missing and I... I was trying to..." He floundered as he tried to find the words to explain, before giving up entirely and bluntly admitting the truth, his arms hanging limply at his sides. "It is lost. I lost it... I'm so sorry..."
"Y-you... You lost it?!" Miles' eyes bugged, Eduardo's words making his worst fears a reality. "How could- How the heck do you lose a plane?! D-did it get stolen? Did you crash it?!" The man was rapidly growing frantic, and his knees trembled violently as he stepped forward to seize his friend by the shoulders. He shook Eduardo gently, though who knows if it was out of restraint, or because his arms simply lacked the strength at that moment. "You know how much that plane meant to us! How... how could you... ughh..."
To the group's combined horror, Miles suddenly slumped, his hands falling from Eduardo's shoulders as he fell to his knees. It was only Stella's quick action, the woman screaming out her husband's name and dropping to her own knees beside him, that prevented him from collapsing to the ground entirely. The rest of the family were close behind, their own cries joining in.
"Dad! Dad, wake up!" Arnold clutched at his father's shirt, his breath hitching as he immediately suffered a panic of his own. With Miles face at his eye-level, the boy could see that his skin had grown pale. It wasn't the same deathly-grey pallor as when the sleeping sickness had gripped him, at least, though that offered next to no comfort.
"Miles? C'mon, Honey." Stella's voice was quieter, though no less fraught as she pleaded, cradling her husband's head and rapidly patting his cheek.
There was a collective sigh of relief when Miles' eyes fluttered open after only a few brief moments of unconsciousness. He released a weak groan, his body's various aches and pains being among the first sensations to come back to him.
"Dad, can you hear me? Are you ok?"
Miles looked to Arnold with bleary eyes, cursing himself harshly when he saw that his son's own eyes were brimming with wetness.
"M'okay." He finally managed to hazily mutter, gingerly moving to sit up. His mouth felt numb. "Think... think I should've just headed to bed when Pop told me. Sorry you had to see that, buddy." He placed a hand on Arnold's shoulder, the contact causing the boy to finally loosen his grip on his father's arm a little. At least Phil, to his credit, didn't feel the need to say he told him so.
"Lo siento, Miles. I can explain, I swear-"
As distraught as Eduardo looked, Miles simply held up a hand and shook his head. Clearly, trekking through a rainforest in a downpour and entertaining a class of curious, energetic children within 24 hours of waking from a sort-of-coma were already pushing one's luck. As obvious as that sounded... Shocking, upsetting revelations were apparently a step past the limit.
"Probably best if we save it for later, huh? Just give me a hand." At Miles' words, Eduardo nodded, moving quickly to brace the man's right side, Stella taking the left. Miles' guilt didn't lessen in the slightest as Arnold watched him rise unsteadily to his feet, imagining his boy scrutinising every tiny shake and tremor. He wanted to be strong. Reaching out, he tousled his son's hair and tried a smile. "Hey, don't be scared. I really am ok. Your old man's a professional klutz, remember? It'll take more than a little slip that to keep me down."
"I just wish you'd stop testing it, you big dope. Now, take your time..." Stella quietly scolded. This had been exactly what she'd hoped to avoid.
Arnold, for his part, simply nodded and said nothing, quietly trying to get his fears under control. After all, to tell them he was alright would be a lie. The fun of introducing his parents to everyone aside, there was no getting away from the fact that part of his mind saw them as china dolls; fragile, irreplaceable things that could break, crumble and be lost again if he wasn't careful. It was distressing, to say the least, to have these worries validated right before his eyes.
The small group moved together, slowly and cautiously, back in the direction from which they had come, all eyes closely trained on Miles for any hint of another stumble. His cheeks were quickly flushing with embarrassment and frustration, to say nothing of the lingering sting of anger he still felt from Eduardo's confession. So focussed was their attention, that they barely registered Helga and Olga's presence by the reception desk at first. Apparently the receptionist had hit a limit of her own and concluded this was a good time to retreat for a coffee break... The sisters were bickering as Olga held a phone out of Helga's reach.
"Oh, come on!" The smaller girl pleaded.
"I'm sorry, Baby Sister, but the answer is no!" Olga declared in an unusually firm tone, though apparently a little out of breath from holding off Helga's enthusiastic efforts. The younger Pataki finally seemed to give in at this, dropping her arms with a huff.
"Geez, what, do I need to sweeten the pot more? I can throw in one slumber party, but that's as high as I'm gonna go!"
Olga seemed to waver for a brief moment, biting her lip, but she quickly shook her head, a stern expression back in place. "This isn't a negotiation, Helga. Letting anyone else inform Principal Wartz would be terribly unprofessional of me!" She emphasised her point with a firm push on the dial button, stepping away as the phone began to ring.
Helga folded her arms, frowning in defeat and muttering under her breath. "Spends the morning blubbering in a corner, and now she's worried about being 'professional'..." It was then that she noticed the arrival of Arnold's family, her expression rapidly flitting from annoyed to happy, then back to the default, practised version of annoyed it reserved for when she saw Arnold in public, then on to frustration with herself that she was still apparently stuck with that reflex, and finally settling on genuine concern when she realised how upset they all looked. Arnold, in particular, seemed deeply troubled, and the sight made her heart ache. Apparently, their talk with Eduardo has gone as poorly as they feared...
"Hey, looks like you managed to track Ed down. So, you getting your plane back or what?" Helga spoke up as they approached, trying to keep it light, only for her question to cause even more downcast looks from the group. "Whoa. Is, uh... everything ok here?" Whether intentionally or not, the question was aimed at Arnold. As the moments ticked by, though, the boy offered nothing. Instead, it was Stella who finally answered, her tone far more terse than Helga had become accustomed to in their short time together.
"Everything's fine, Helga." She didn't elaborate, instead glancing over at Olga, not far away but apparently engrossed in an attempted phone conversation – she could swear it sounded like the person on the other end of the line was blasting La Cucaracha... "Are you helping your sister call the school?"
"Meh, not exactly." Helga similarly spared Olga a sideways glance. "Probably for the best – I came to the table way too generous."
"I... see." Stella raised a brow in confusion. Still, this was hardly the time to stop and analyse. "Well, Miles and I are just heading back to our room to rest for a bit."
"Oh. Yeah, that's a good call." Helga agreed, not convinced that everything was 'fine' at all, but also not particularly liking the way Miles seemed to be leaning heavily on Stella. "Don't want you guys passing out on us, right?" She winced as it became immediately clear that that was another misstep, given the collective flinch it seemed to cause. At a loss, she just wished Arnold would meet her eye. "Well, uh, don't let me keep you, I guess." She weakly gestured down the hall, her anxiety growing with each step the usually light-hearted family took as they passed her. Though his gaze only seemed to move back and forth between his father and the floor, Arnold at least finally spoke, though his voice was quiet.
"I'm going to stay with them for a while. Just in case anyone asks."
Helga frowned, and reached out a shaking hand as two deeply ingrained yet conflicting instincts fought each other. She gritted her teeth. 'Ok, Helga – you can do this. Just take his hand. You had no problem grabbing it last night, and whatever's going on here, the poor kid obviously needs comforting. He's done it for you like a half dozen times just this morning! Just...' Coming within inches of its target, she suddenly jerked, instead finding herself clumsily patting him on the shoulder. She suspected it looked painfully similar to when Big Bob had done the same to her earlier; Pataki-brand emotional vulnerability at its finest. 'Idiot! Why are you like this?! Come on, you can still salvage this!'
"H-hey, are you sure you're-" She managed to begin, only to be thwarted by a sudden increase in volume from Olga.
"No, kidnapped! We were all KIDNA- Principal Wartz, would you please turn off that music?!"
It was enough of a shock to draw Helga's attention off her current crisis for a moment. But it was a greater shock when she turned back to find that her hand had stayed on Arnold's shoulder, and even more amazingly, had started to gently (dare she even say comfortingly?) rub it with its thumb. Apparently, her sister's outburst had been enough to snap Arnold out of his thoughts a little too, and the pair's eyes finally met. The connection lasted for a few long moments, Helga feeling too stunned to even breathe, before Arnold moved to cover her hand with his own, ceasing her small motions, but sending a warm shudder through her all the same.
"I'll be ok." He responded to her half-question with something close to a smile. "Thanks, Helga."
"Duh..." The girl gave a quick shake of her head (making Arnold's almost-smile grow a little more). "D-don't mention it."
With that, Arnold moved away, leaving Helga with the same slight sting of regret that she always felt when physical contact between them was broken. She also noticed, to her dull horror, that the exchange had been witnessed by Arnold's entire family, his parents looking somewhat happier than before and his grandparents looking decidedly intrigued. But mostly, as they departed, she still just felt warm. After a few moments, she lifted her hand to examine it carefully, giving the thumb a few experimental wiggles back and forth, as if discovering an amazing new appendage. Eventually, she beamed, raising it to the air in a proud thumbs-up.
"Progress!"
And nearby, Olga came to wearily rest against the reception desk, massaging her temple. "Now, Principal Wartz, there's no need to cry, I assure you we're- The indemnity forms? Well, I believe they're in the school records room, but- Hello? Hello?!" She took the phone from her ear, looking at it in confusion for a few moments before sighing to herself. "He mustn't have very good signal..."
Down the hall, it would be fair to say that the Shortmans had been a little uplifted by Arnold and Helga's interaction, if only briefly. They continued their short journey towards the bed that, if they were being honest, had been calling Miles and Stella since they'd left their slab in the Green-Eyes' city that morning. It wasn't a call the couple were eager to answer. All the same, the mood by the time they reached the room was still inescapably dour, and the group had yet to say anything amongst themselves. The unspoken priority was to get the two to bed as quickly and calmly as possible before any more mishaps could occur. It made for an awkward sight, the remaining four all closely filing into the small room in Miles and Stella's wake, each apparently afraid to be too far away in case one of the couple needed to be caught again. There was an undeniable sense of relief when Miles finally, heavily flopped down on the same bed as before, his own sigh and the bed's objecting groan fighting each other over which sounded older and more weary. His wife quickly joined him, rubbing his shoulder.
"Well, that was an adventure..." Miles chuckled, weakly. "So, Pop, have you got a bedtime story for us, or what?" He sent a small, teasing grin in his father's direction, trying to lighten the mood. It brought a trace of the usual spark from the older man.
"Hey, all my bedtime stories have been about you two for the last nine years. Give me a chance to come up with some new material." He managed a smile of his own, without its usual teasing edge. "Both of you just go ahead and grab forty winks. We'll be here when you wake up."
"Absolutely!" Gertie enthusiastically piped up, seeming to rally a little herself. "After all, VIPs like yourselves need a good protection detail – we'll patrol the area and keep the perimeter secure." The suggestion earned a dry look from her husband for a few seconds.
"Pretty sure the only 'perimeter' I'll be patrolling is the kitchen, if I can find it in this place; I think that crazy mob scared off anyone who tried to bring us food. What about you, Arnold?" The last part was gently directed at his grandson, who had remained silent until now, close by his parents' side.
"I'd rather stay here for a while, if that's ok." It was a sad echo of the same awkward question from the night before, though this time it sounded far less as though he was asking.
"Sure it is." Stella eagerly took her son's hand, giving it a tight squeeze. "Although, we probably should've warned you last night – your dad snores." It was enough to bring just a little light back into his son's expression, along with an affronted "Hey!" from Miles.
"I noticed." The boy shyly commented. I struck him that, when under the influence of the sickness, his father hadn't been snoring at all. It made his sleep seem all the more horribly lifeless. Maybe hearing it would actually be a comfort.
With the decision made, Arnold's grandparents made their exit. They moved past Eduardo on their way out, who had stayed silent as the exchange unfolded. He withered a little further under a fresh glare from Phil as they passed; it was clear, if unspoken, that another demand for an explanation was in Eduardo's very near future. The man himself lingered for a few moments afterwards, his eyes on the family on their bed and his mouth occasionally opening, though he seemed unable to ever formulate the words. Eventually, with a sigh, he seemed to give up and departed too, closing the door gently behind him.
Left alone, Arnold, Miles and Stella once again faced the dilemma of how to arrange themselves – the single beds were thinner than the Green Eyes' slabs – and it quickly fell to Arnold to hastily shove the room's second bed alongside the first, all three wincing at the obnoxious screech of the metal frame against the tiles. He closed the curtains too, for good measure, leaving the room in half-light. Unlike the previous evening, sleep of his own was far from Arnold's mind, and he chose instead to seat himself on the edge, still watching his parents closely as the made themselves comfortable. His mother was quick, all the same, to re-establish her warm grip on his hand once settled.
They made quiet small talk then, for a little while. An attempt at continuing their earlier conversation. But, much like the last time Miles and Stella had stopped running from sleep, their exhaustion was coming quickly to claim them.
"You know... I'm getting a pretty weird sense of déjà vu, here..." Miles joked drowsily, his eyes already closed. "Think... last I remember, we were the ones watching you fall asleep, Arnold."
"Mm, sure, if we could get you to stop running around for long enough." Stella concurred, clearly half-asleep herself already. The memories brought forth a soft laugh from her, one that seemed full of both delight and sadness. She wistfully continued. "You were so full of energy... Always somewhere you wanted to explore... something you wanted to do... somebody you wanted to meet. Figured-" She cut her herself off with a large yawn. "We figured... you must've been born... with our adventuring bug."
The idea brought a true smile to Arnold's face for the first time in a while, and returned the squeeze of his mother's hand. "Well, once we get home, we can all go on some adventures together, right?" He let a few hopeful plans for the future flow through his imagination; he or any one of his classmates could tell you that there were plenty of adventures to be found around Hillwood, if you looked.
"Mhm... Promise." Stella agreed, as the first tell-tale snore escaped from Miles beside her. "No... slides, though, Sweetheart. Not... not till you're... two..." She mumbled, semi-coherently, before finally drifting off herself, her breaths becoming slow, deep and steady.
With that, and for just about the first time since the previous night, Arnold was left alone with his thoughts. In its own way, this day really was turning out to be almost as much of an adventure as the last few, for better or worse. Full of excitement and drama both good and bad. This turn of events, in particular, preyed on his mind and left him wondering about the future in ways that hadn't even occurred to him before. When he would lie back and dream about heroically rescuing his parents from whatever dark fate had befallen them, the fantasy usually ended with the three flying happily off into the sunset. But in reality, what came next? Fairytale endings don't usually bother to include pesky afterthoughts like lingering physical and mental trauma... Getting back to Hillwood was only the first step, one which apparently relied heavily on Rhonda's access to a credit card. And after that, who knew? How much time would his parents need to fully recover, if they ever truly would, before the three could enjoy the aforementioned adventures together without worry? What kind of relationships would they build together, in the end, if some part of Miles and Stella's minds failed to see past the toddler Arnold used to be, and some part of his own mind was constantly burdened by fear that the pair would vanish or break.
The only answer, it seemed, was to take each moment slowly and as it came. After all, you can apparently go from tearfully basking in the joy of an overdue family reunion to carefully watching your father for signs of blacking out, both in the blink of an eye and in the very same room. He hoped that he was done with jungle trekking for a while, at least; the novelty had really worn off. Still, despite the hardships of their hike that morning, Arnold found himself smiling at the recent memory; their group slogging and stumbling clumsily through the sopping wet forest in Eduardo's wake, his parents making fun of their own fatigue, Gerald retreating sulkily into his drenched hoody, and Helga marching them all forward like the most skilled of drill sergeants. His free hand absently drifted to his shoulder at that last part... It was reassuring to think that even challenging times can be looked back on fondly, so long as they led to better things eventually. He doubted he'd ever enjoy the memory of his dad collapsing, of course... But with any luck, this whole journey home could become something that they would all happily remember together over the years to come. Their first adventure together, even. And the familiar, optimistic voice in his mind assured him that, yes, they most certainly would have years.
Arnold probably didn't spend too long sitting there in the silence, lost in these thoughts. He just had no way to really track the minutes ticking by, occasionally snapping out of his own head to listen to his parents quietly breathing. Or, not so quietly in Miles' case – Arnold actually had to hold back a chuckle when his dad let out particularly Abner-like snort. His grandparents had filled him in on how Abner's sudden appearance at their door had spurred their own rescue efforts, or at least, he'd been filled in on his grandma's... eccentric description of what Abner had 'told' them. It was while he sat there pondering just whether Tuck Air's highly-trained staff would really ignore the oddity of a pig in first class (let alone serve it shrimp cocktail) that he heard the other soft sounds drifting into the room.
More quiet breaths, though they sounded laboured and hitched, from just outside the door. And maybe... sniffling?
Arnold reluctantly released his mother's hand and carefully rose from the bed, wincing at the by now-predictable groan. Glancing back, he at least found that neither of these had caused the slightest stir from either of the sleeping pair; he suspected they were both firmly out for the count, not that he'd be testing it. Creeping to the door as silently as possible, he opened it to peer out, starting at the unexpected sight of a figure in the hall, sitting against the wall right by the doorway. It might have taken him a few moments to recognise Eduardo, if not for the trademark hat lying discarded beside him; the man was practically curled into a ball, his knees held tightly to his chest and his face hidden. Without the wall between them, Arnold could hear the sniffles far more clearly.
"Eduardo..?" Arnold reached out a hand, though the man jumped before it could even make contact. Apparently he, too, had been lost in his thoughts.
"Arnold!" The man stumbled as he hastened to his feet, quickly making a futile effort to wipe the tears from around his eyes. He collected himself for a moment, before speaking again. "Lo siento – I did not mean to disturb you. Are your parents alright?"
Arnold gave a nod, briefly turning his gaze back over his shoulder at the couple. "They're ok. They're just sleeping – I think they really needed it." He mused, as if it hadn't been obvious, before turning back to the man in the hall. "But what about you? Is something wrong?"
The question earned a quiet 'tch' from Eduardo – apparently that, too, had been obvious – though it seemed he was directing the frustration exclusively at himself. He crossed his arms, staring at the ground. "I think you know the answer to that, Arnold. I'm amazed that you are even speaking to me. I will be more amazed if your parents ever speak to me again..."
It was true; Arnold couldn't help but frown. Eduardo's last exchange with his family had done a lot of harm. Still, the boy couldn't help but feel pity at the man's distress. "You mean the plane." Its very mention caused Eduardo to flinch, before Arnold continued. "I'll admit, I was really sad to hear that it's actually... gone. But, Eduardo, why did you lie about it? Whatever happened, you can't have lost it on purpose, right?"
Faced with Arnold's sad, inquisitive stare, Eduardo's shoulders slumped once more. He held the boy's gaze for a few long moments before opening his mouth to answer. "I never meant-" He was quickly cut off by a series of alarming crashes and muffled shouts from the room across the hall; apparently the class' promise to behave themselves in Olga's absence was in the middle of being broken, or Olga had returned, and the chain of command was once again falling apart.
Desperately eager for answers by this point, Arnold stepped back and opened the door wider, gesturing to the man. "Do you want to come in? It'll be quieter in here."
"What about your parents?" Eduardo appeared hesitant.
"They're really asleep; I don't think we'll disturb them so long as we're not too loud."
Though Eduardo seemed reluctant for a few moments longer, he eventually gave in, stepping past Arnold and into the room. It was Arnold who briefly stooped to grab the seemingly forgotten hat from the floor, handing it to the man as he pulled the door closed behind them. Eduardo dusted it off, apparently out of sheer reflex, though it stayed clutched in his hands afterwards. He stared at the couple sleeping in front of them, his expression sorrowful, until Arnold eventually spoke again, his low voice prompting the man out of his thoughts.
"So, what happened? What happened to their plane?" The boy perched himself at the foot of the doubled-up bed, his legs dangling, still watching Miles and Stella carefully despite his confidence in his earlier claims.
Eduardo let out a final weary sigh, slumping against the wall across from the boy, allowing his eyes to close and his head to fall back as he remembered. "Your parents were only meant to be gone for a few days. They told me, promised me that. Getting the ingredients had already taken so much longer than they had expected, and I could see they were so desperate for it to be done with, so that they could finally go home. They left most of their belongings with me, so they could travel light. And they left me the plane." He let out a hollow chuckle. "Miles even joked with me. 'No joyriding', he said. 'Not a scratch'. And then, like an idiot..." His fists clenched at his sides as he apparently held back the urge to punch the wall behind him. "Like an idiot, I let them walk away. No, worse; I sailed them into the jungle, as far as we could go, as close as I could get them to where they needed to be. To save them time." He bitterly spat the final words, barely managing to keep his volume in check.
Arnold simply sat, watching silently yet taking in every word. Eduardo's anger with himself was as clear as day, and he felt his own chest ache in sympathy.
"I knew something had gone wrong when they missed our rendezvous..." Eduardo continued, opening eyes again to stare past Arnold, back to the couple on the bed. "But I hoped... I had to hope that they were just delayed. That they were still fine. I was a fool."
"If... if they were already sick by then," Arnold finally spoke, his tone unsteady at the very idea, "then I don't think there wasn't anything you could have done..."
Eduardo seemed to ignore the comment. "I went back to our meeting place every day, for two more weeks. Then I started searching the area on foot, looking for any sign of them, or better yet, the Green Eyes' city itself. As if I had a chance... I found nothing. That was also when I started avoiding calls from your grandparents..." He used a hand to cover his eyes, as if trying to hide from the shame he felt. "I can't imagine how worried they must have been. How you all must have been. I was desperate, and so... and so I started using your father's plane to sweep the area."
"But, wasn't that a good thing to do?" Arnold enquired. It seemed to make sense, if it had let Eduardo cover more ground. But the man despondently shook his head.
"No, Arnold, it wasn't. You know yourself now; where the Green Eyes live is in a very mountainous region of the jungle. I had already been searching for days, and it was cloudy." He seemed to shake slightly, as he relived the memory. "I had made several passes that day already, and I was so tired. But I thought, one more. Just one, before it got too dark. I was focussing on the ground, looking for any sign, anything... By the time I realised how close I was to the cliff, I couldn't stop it, I couldn't..."
The man released a strange sound then, something like a choked, broken laugh. Even in the dim light, Arnold could see that a few fresh tears had started to stain his face.
"You know, your papá, he likes to joke, but I am a good pilot. A good pilot! He got his license one month earlier than me and he never let me forget about it. You know we learned together?" Who knew if Eduardo even registered Arnold shaking his head in response; he kept going regardless. "Of course not... Why would you? It started as a joke when we met in college, talking about how we would be travelling all over the world, and how much easier it would be if we just bought planes of our own. And then one day, out of nowhere, here comes Miles, grinning like a lunatic, driving a flatbed loaded with the most aged, rusted, pile of chatarra I had ever seen." He let out a few more laughs, these ones more genuine, and covered his mouth in attempt to keep them muted until they were under control. "Aha, he... he had spent every cent of his savings and student loans, and somehow scoured old airfield and scrapyard in the state until he found a plane he could actually afford. It was a complete hazard, and he did not even know how to fly yet! Oh, but he loved it..." He gave the sleeping man a fond, pitying grin, in stark contrast to the lingering wetness on his cheeks. "For the rest of that year, I spent more time working with your father to get that thing running than I actually did studying, not to mention letting him 'borrow' my food... Then the year after learning how to actually use it. But, the way he took to it; I had never seen him happier than after that first lesson. At least, until we both came here and, well..." Eduardo let out one final chuckle. "Did you know that your mamá can fly too?"
Arnold's eyes had been wide as he took in Eduardo's words, imagining the two young men slowly and painstakingly resurrecting a decrepit hulk of metal into the handsome little plane he'd seen in the photographs. This new piece of information was also completely knew, and Arnold couldn't help but grin himself as he once again shook his head.
"Sí. Your mother was a farm girl." Eduardo pressed on. "A cropduster, since she was a teenager. I swear, Miles had already fallen in love with her at first sight. When he learned that about her too, I thought he was going to pass out!" The man's smile ended at that, the jarring reminder of far more recent events snapping him back to reality. When he spoke again, his sombre tone had returned. "All those memories... I abandoned the plane. I watched it crash. One of the strongest connections that I had to your parents, that you could have had, Arnold, and I... I destroyed it." He looked down at his own hands, held out in front of him, as if imagining the wreckage slipping through his fingers.
"It... it wasn't your fault..." Arnold's growing smile had similarly died. Suddenly, he was back in the cabin on Eduardo's boat, listening to his parent's share their painful regrets over how desperation and impatience had robbed them of so much. Apparently, they weren't the only ones.
"Whatever right I could have had to say that was lost the moment I lied to your grandparents." Eduardo looked disgusted with himself as he admitted it out loud. "When I finally took their calls and faced them, they were so frantic, and when I told them about your parents going missing, they were already so devastated. They had never wanted them to come back here if the first place, not with you waiting for them at home! They asked me when I had last seen them. They asked me about the plane and I froze, and then... And then I lied. I lied. Cobarde." He hissed, folding his arms tightly. "And then I kept lying, throughout the whole investigation. I let them think that it had been lost to the jungle, along with your parents. And eventually, when the official search was called off, I simply... stopped. I stopped contacting them all together. I couldn't bear to." Eduardo turned to meet Arnold's eye then, his eyes angry. Arnold knew, though, that it wasn't aimed at him.
"They are right to hate me. Even before they learned about this, I am still the man who came back into Miles and Stella's lives – into your life – and ruined it. I brought them back here, because I could do nothing for the Green Eyes myself, and then all of you paid for it. I... I can barely look your grandparents in the eye. I am ashamed when I look them. I am ashamed when I look at you. I hurt you more than anyone, Arnold. You should hate me too."
"I don't hate you." Arnold's response was quick, and instinctive. Hate, in Arnold's mind, was such a strong thing. Of all the people he had met, plenty of whom had been less than friendly, and many of whom had irritated, troubled or hurt Arnold in all sorts of ways, he could count on a single hand the number of people he considered hating. Usually, it was because they weren't sorry. What Eduardo was telling him hurt, and just like with his parents, he knew there might be more anger later down the line. But seeing the regret on Eduardo's face? No, he couldn't hate him. "You didn't make Mom and Dad come here, and none of it went the way any of you thought it would go. And nobody can change it. We all just need to move forward." He glanced back at the sleeping pair, and found himself strangely wondering if Eduardo would be angry with them if he ever learned the full truth of why they failed.
"But, the plane, Arnold... The lies..." Eduardo tried to argue.
"You made mistakes. So... so did Mom and Dad. If you tell the truth, and let them know you're sorry, I think they'll forgive you. Grandma and Grandpa, too." Arnold tried a small smile. "Maybe, if you visit us in Hillwood, you and Dad can even build a new plane together. We all could."
Eduardo stared disbelievingly at Arnold for a few moments, much as the boy's parents had done after their own confession. After a few moments, he let out a long breath of air – one which had apparently been held for too long – and allowed himself to slide slowly to the floor, his legs stretching out if front of him. A small, sad smile had made its was onto Eduardo's own face again when he next spoke, though his voice was weary.
"How can someone your age be so mature?"
This latest in a growing line of parallels between this conversation and the one Arnold had shared with his parents on the boat was almost enough to make the boy laugh out loud. It was lucky that Eduardo didn't seem to expect an answer, because honestly, like the last time, Arnold didn't have one. He really did just follow his instincts. The two sat there in silence for a few minutes, Eduardo collecting himself and apparently as lost in thought as Arnold had been before discovering him in the hallway, absent-mindedly playing with the rim of his hat. Eventually, though, the man looked up to Arnold again.
"You know, Arnold, part of the reason why I feel so ashamed of myself when I look at you, is because of how happy and how proud it makes me to see you. To see the young man you have grown into." The unexpected compliment left Arnold blushing, and hoping that the room was too dark for Eduardo to tell. "I see so much of both of your parents in you. And more..." Eduardo once again turned his gaze to the couple, Miles' snores filling the brief silence. "I remember the bright little niño that used to drive your parents and I crazy, trying to run off into the jungle from the moment you could crawl. I remember seeing you in their arms for the first time, when it seemed as though you had silenced all of nature. The amount of love they had for you from that very first moment. Their miracle baby, they called you. I was so happy to be a part of all of your lives. I should have been a part of your life..."
"You still could be." Arnold offered, genuinely hoping Eduardo would accept. To meet him had been one of Arnold's main goals of this trip, after all, even if his first hope had been to gain more information about his parents. And even with them miraculously returned, he felt Eduardo was still a part of their past that they would all be sorry to lose again, for the sake of placing old blame. "Just because we're leaving San Lorenzo, it doesn't mean we have to lose touch."
"We will see." Eduardo's smile took on a sad edge. "I am not so sure I have that right any more. But I would like that, very much. I will tell your parents everything, once they wake up, and we'll see if they are as forgiving as you are."
"And my grandparents?" Arnold asked, once again seeing their mention cause Eduardo to flinch.
"...Yes. Them too." The man sounded far less certain at the suggestion. "Although I doubt any simple explanation or apology could be enough. Both are very overdue. For now, though, I will let your parents rest. You are staying in here with them?" Seeing Arnold nod, he began to rise back to his feet, dusting himself off much as he had done his hat, minutes before. "Then I should go and make sure that no more of my men have run away. You know, we have practically been at war with Lasombra for years, and not one of them has felt the need to flee the country before now? If your parents wanted you to grow up somewhere safer, I am not so sure Hillwood was the right choice..." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully at that, the comment finally getting a chuckle out of Arnold, before placing his hat back in its proper place and turning to leave. After a few steps, though, he hesitated, before instead stepping over to Arnold and placing a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder.
"Thank you, Arnold. The Green Eyes are right, you know. Whatever you wish to call it, you are special."
As their eyes met, Eduardo found himself thinking back to a moment from more than ten years prior. His best friends, the closest thing he had to a family, had made the decision to leave the country that had become their home in recent years, where the two had met and their love had grown, preferring a city with fewer venomous animals to raise their baby. Eduardo had felt tears prickle in his eyes, back then, as he hugged each of them farewell at the airport. And lastly, they had allowed him a few moments to say goodbye their son. He remembered comparing the heavy, giggling almost-toddler in his arms to the tiny little thing, born in a jungle temple, who Eduardo had been the third person to hold. The infant Arnold had smiled, babbled, and reached out a pair of chubby hands to pat Eduardo's cheeks. It had made the prickling go away.
"I will be nearby, if you need anything." The Eduardo of today finally promised, moving away and making his exit from the room.
Left alone again, and more than a little drained from yet another heavy, emotional talk that day, Arnold found himself settling down once more by the side of his parents, the two still deep in their slumber. He sat propped against a pillow, a comfortable spot, and quickly sought out his mother's hand again. Despite her sleep, Stella's fingers wrapped around his own, and he watched the corners of her mouth twitch into a smile. And Miles kept on snoring. Arnold sighed and let his eyes drift closed, letting the fears and troubles of difficult conversations trickle away, for now.
Instead, he let him himself think about the future, and how much fun it might be to build a plane.
A/N One of the things that I noticed most about TJM was the lack of an answer about just what happened to Miles and Stella's plane. This is the answer I came up with. How did I do? Please tell me what you think - I love your feedback, and I'd love to hear your theories too. Thanks for reading!