Been quite a while since I updated this. As the song says, it was always on my mind.
Timeline again.
1. 'In the beginning' Parts 1 and 2 (Chapters 13 and 14) Rusty is seven, Danny is nine.
2. 'Neverending Conversation' Parts 1 and 2 (Chapters 15 and 16) Rusty is seven, Danny is nine.
3. 'Something more than it should be' (Chapter 10) Rusty is ten, Danny is twelve
4. 'Four Day Interlude' (Chapter 5) Rusty is ten, Danny is thirteen
5. 'Remember the first time' (Chapter 4) Rusty is ten, Danny is thirteen
6. 'Sunshine, smiles and sweet, sweet words' (Chapter 17) Rusty is ten, Danny is thirteen.
7. 'View from the outside' (Chapter 12) Rusty is eleven, Danny is fourteen
8. 'Walk before you can crawl' (Chapter 2) Rusty is twelve, Danny is fifteen
9. 'Other Nightmares Parts 1 and 2 (Chapters 8 and 9) Rusty is twelve, Danny is fifteen
10. 'The more things change' (Chapter 1) Rusty is thirteen, Danny is fifteen
11. 'Life Lessons' (Chapter 7) Rusty is fourteen, Danny is sixteen
12. 'The lies we live' (Chapter 3) Rusty is fourteen, Danny is sixteen
13. 'This is our decision (to live fast and die young)' (Chapter 6) Rusty is fourteen, Danny is seventeen
14. 'Such a perfect day' (Chapter 11) Rusty is fourteen, Danny is seventeen.
By the time they arrived the fair was in full swing, full of gaudy lights, excited people and tinny music. Looked like fun. They'd meant to get here early, but Rusty had let him sleep in. In the last few days his parents had somehow got louder and seemed to have given up on needing sleep. As long as they were hurting each other that seemed to be enough, and they'd pretty much forgotten he existed. Not that he necessarily objected to the lack of ideas such as 'bedtime', or 'curfew' or 'homework', but when concepts like 'dinner' and 'good morning' and 'silence' went out the window, he chose to run to Rusty's and stay there for a bit. Which was fine, for once. Rusty's dad had got a new job and had left Rusty with a couple of dollars, a couple of bruises, and a promise that he'd be on the road till next week. And that was fantastic, and they'd stayed up roasting marshmallows over a candle, and Rusty had tried to show him that shuffling trick he'd taught himself to do, only Danny had completely failed to get the hang of it, and the deck had pretty much exploded, showering cards all over the room, and they'd laughed and there'd been no yelling and no reason to be scared and it had been perfect.
But they had meant to get there early in order to look around properly, and now there were people everywhere. They had to stop sharply to avoid walking into a boy – maybe two or three years older than Danny, tall and dressed tough – and his mother, who was wiping at his face with a handkerchief. "Now, Sam, I don't see your friends anywhere about. Are you sure you're going to be all right on your own?"
"I'm fine, mom. I told you. I'm meeting the guys inside." He sounded embarrassed, and it occurred to Danny that he'd probably arranged to meet his friends inside to avoid them meeting his mother. He caught Rusty's eye, and they shared the thought that at least they never needed to worry about being publicly humiliated by their parents.
The mother kept talking. "Don't eat too much candy. And don't go on the fast rides, you know they make you sick."
Danny bit his lip. Rusty's shoulders shook. The boy noticed them looking and reddened threateningly. They quickly walked round the pair and headed inside the fairground.
They stood for a long moment, looking round, and Danny could feel himself smiling. Sights and sounds and opportunities, awash in the blazing sunshine. And them with the football team's money in their pockets. "What do you want to do first?" he asked, but when he glanced over, Rusty's eyes were already fixed on the nearest hotdog stand.
"Mustard and ketchup and onions," he replied dreamily.
Danny blinked. "It's eleven in the morning."
Rusty just looked at him.
"We just had breakfast," he pointed out.
"It was just cold cereal," Rusty answered. "That doesn't count."
"You practically live on cereal," Danny sighed, but he willingly followed Rusty over and joined the queue. "We're just going to be eating all day, aren't we?"
Rusty shook his head. "There's also rides, remember?" He looked past Danny, and up, and Danny turned and saw the very top of a frighteningly rickety looking rollercoaster.
"No," he said firmly. "Not a chance."
"You'll enjoy it," Rusty assured him.
"Rus', it looks like it'd fall apart if you breathed on it."
Rusty shrugged. "Don't breathe," he suggested. They reached the front of the queue and Rusty smiled up at the man. "Two hotdogs, please."
Danny actually opened his mouth to protest that he wasn't hungry, before he realised and shut up. Rusty shot him an amused glance and gave him one hotdog to hold while he lathered the other in ketchup and mustard.
"That is disgusting." Danny said with feeling.
Rusty nodded. "But delicious," he added, as he handed the sauce-smothered hotdog to Danny while he prepared to do the same to the next one.
It all happened fast, but Danny was almost certain that it hadn't been deliberate on Rusty's part. Not that he wouldn't have. Just that he probably hadn't. An arm came reaching over Rusty's shoulder, and an annoyed voice – "Stop hogging the mustard, kid," and Danny saw Rusty tense up, and he saw him not flinch, and he saw him let go of the mustard, but not quite in time, and he watched as an arc of sunshine yellow goo flew through the air and deposited itself all over the boy's shirt. The same boy from outside, actually. Sam, or something. Well. He'd wanted mustard.
Rusty turned round immediately, all awkward apologies and complete neutrality, amusement buried almost too far down for even Danny to see it. But Danny had never achieved quite that level of self-control; he laughed. Oh, he managed to choke it back almost immediately, but the look on the boy's face – that shell shocked expression – and there was even a glob of yellow sitting on top of his hair. How could he help it?
Sam's expression hardened, and he took a step towards them. Danny looked round and Rusty looked back at him and they came to an unspoken conclusion and ran as fast as possible.
They dodged past surprised gawkers, swung round the back of stalls, hurtled past queues and didn't stop until they were round behind the House of Illusion, out of breath and absolutely confident that they'd lost him. After all, together and individually, they'd shaken off far more persistent pursuers in their time.
Danny sat, trying to get his breath back, and watched companionably as Rusty finished his first hotdog, licked the remains of the ketchup from his fingers and started in on the plain one. He took one bite, grimaced and threw it away. "Not the same without mustard," he explained.
"You put too much on," Danny remarked.
Rusty shook his head seriously. "If you can taste the sausage, there's not enough mustard."
"You ever think about what goes in those things?" Danny wondered.
"Never while I'm eating them."
The House of Illusion was something of a disappointment. Not that Danny had any idea exactly what he'd been expecting, but something more than a few shape distorting mirrors, a couple of pictures where the eyes moved and a guy in a white sheet who leapt out and yelled "Boo!" In fact, they were just heading out, having exhausted all the possibilities that watching other kids pulling faces in the mirror had to offer, when they walked smack into Juliet Darcey, her daughter and goddaughter dragged along in her wake.
She smiled tightly at them. Well, at Danny. "Good morning, Daniel. How are you keeping?"
He smiled back at her. "Very well, thank you Mrs Darcey." Behind her back he could see Annette and Celeste nudging each other, pointing at him and giggling. Interesting.
"And your mother? I've not spoken to her in a while. How is she holding up?" Her eyes were narrowed eagerly.
"She's fine," he told her, keeping it short. Obviously that particular train wreck was the latest piece of gossip.
"And your father?" Again the eagerness.
"Also fine, thank you. I'll let them know you were asking after them." Them. Make it sound like he had a chance of being in the same room with the pair of them and being able to carry out a conversation.
Danny noticed the disappointment in her face. Most people probably wouldn't have. "That's good. Thank you." Her gaze swept over to Rusty and there was the usual vague spasm of disapproval. "But they're not with you? You're on your own?"
That was self-evident, he'd have thought. "We're meeting up with my uncle later," he lied.
She nodded and looked satisfied and disappointed again. Gossip must be slow right now. "And you've been in the same school for quite some time now and from what I hear, you've not caused too much trouble. Well done. Must be such a relief to your poor parents, not to have to worry about you on top of everything else." She smiled at him. Sweet like cyanide. "Honestly, if one didn't know, one could almost think that you were . . . " She trailed off, mock apolo. Danny heard the end of the sentence anyway. 'One could almost think that you were a normal, respectable young man.'
He smiled at her and inwardly seethed. He hadn't had so much as a detention in two years, but just like his mom she'd take any excuse to bring up his less than spotless childhood. Things were different now. They didn't get caught. "Thank you," he said politely.
Rusty stepped up to his shoulder. "Danny? We said we'd meet your uncle at the bumper cars. We don't want to be late." On the surface his voice was filled with apology and sincerity. Beneath, Danny could hear concern and protective anger.
He nodded and smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry Mrs. Darcey. We need to be going. I'll be sure to remember you to my mother." Though he'd far rather forget. He smiled dazzlingly at the girls. "Bye Annette. See you in school Celeste." They burst out into a fresh round of giggling and he and Rusty took advantage of the moment to slip away before Mrs Darcey had finished glaring at them.
As they walked away Rusty glanced back over his shoulder repeatedly, to Danny's amusement. "I don't think she's going to follow us," he pointed out.
"You never know." Rusty frowned darkly.
Danny nodded and let it go. "You want to – "
Rusty was already starting to smile. " – do something – "
" – More fun?" he finished and Rusty nodded.
They headed to where the excited screams were loudest.
The bumper cars had been fun, if a little difficult. Still, what they'd lacked in steering skills they'd made up for in teamwork and they'd been responsible for three pile-ups. Which he figured was a good thing, although reversing out afterwards had been tricky.
Now they were staring up at the roller coaster and Danny's heart was in his mouth. It really was pretty high. And he couldn't help but think that it was probably at least ten years old and was dismantled and rebuilt at least three times a month. He stole a sideways glance at Rusty. Wide-eyed and dripping ice-cream onto his fingers. He sighed; they were going to do this.
Rusty looked round. "We don't have to," he said simply.
"I'm not scared," Danny replied immediately.
Rusty looked slightly amused. "It's you and it's me. Who's to impress?"
No-one. And he wasn't. "Thought you were supposed to confront the things that scare you," he pointed out.
There was a pause. "What scares you most? In the world?" Rusty asked, entirely serious.
Danny looked at him and thought about one punch too many, and about the faded scars on Rusty's arm, and about the possibility that one morning he'd wake up and he'd be alone, and said nothing.
Rusty blinked and bit his lip and said nothing for a long moment. "Do you really want to confront that?"
"This isn't that," Danny pointed out bluntly and he turned and stared at the rollercoaster. Okay. So it didn't go that high. Not really. And it had stayed standing all this time. Probably it wouldn't fall down while they were on it.
"So you want to – "
" – definitely." He didn't want them to not do something for such a stupid reason.
Rusty studied him for a long, long moment and he met the gaze and didn't blink or turn away. Eventually they grinned at each other and strolled into the end of the queue.
"I hate waiting in line," Rusty complained lightly.
"Patience," Danny said with a smile.
"We have none," Rusty agreed.
The line in front of them got shorter and shorter. And as they got closer to the front the screams got louder, and they seemed to stop sounding excited and start sounding terrified.
"I'll hold your hand if you like," Rusty offered.
Danny didn't look at him. "Thanks. No."
The man took their money and waved them on. Danny found himself wishing that Rusty had been deemed too short. They found a seat around the middle of the train, and the man walked up and down, pulling bars down over them and Danny snuck a look sideway. Because heights weren't exactly his thing, but being trapped wasn't exactly Rusty's.
"I'm good," Rusty assured him immediately. "You?"
The ride started. "It'd be a problem if I said no, wouldn't it?"
It wasn't so bad. Just chugging its way to the top. And then the sky loomed over them and then the ground came rushing up to meet them and it was worse than flying and people were screaming and Rusty was laughing.
He turned round. "If I die, you're haunting me," he shouted.
"Probably." Rusty yelled back, grinning.
It came as a surprise when the ride ended and up wasn't quite where he thought it should be. He flopped down onto the ground. Rusty sat beside him. "Want to go again?"
He considered for a moment. Because there had been fear. And yet . . . "Definitely."
They'd been heading for the Ferris Wheel when they'd seen Sam at the front of the queue. What was more, he'd seen them and he'd scowled and started towards them, before the group of friends he was with bundled him on to the ride. By common consent they'd moved away from the rides for a bit. Just until the kid forgot he'd seen them.
Instead they were investigating the possibilities that lunch had to offer, and unsurprisingly the moment they'd stepped among the food stalls, he'd completely lost track of Rusty. He settled down on a patch of open grass and picked at his fried chicken. He could wait.
Ten minutes later Rusty appeared, flushed and happy and holding a large carton of french fries and a . . .
"What is that?" He had to ask. He just had to.
"Pie on a stick!" Rusty explained cheerfully.
Danny blinked. "What?"
"It's pie. But it's on a stick!" He took a bite. "Cherry," he added helpfully.
"Huh." Danny contemplated the pie on a stick before turning to look at his own food with a slight feeling of dissatisfaction.
Rusty's eyes lit up. "Is that fried chicken? Can I have some?"
Danny looked at him thoughtfully and slid the carton over. "Would I ever say no?"
"Probably wouldn't be pretty if you did," Rusty agreed and handed him the pie on a stick.
He managed to stop grinning long enough to take a bite. It was nice. "Not as good as Mabel's."
"But on a stick," Rusty answered immediately and it was obvious that he felt as though Danny was missing the point somewhat.
They finished their food in silence. Danny even managed to steal a couple of fries.
"Hey, Danny?" Rusty said lazily. "I think they've got spaghetti and meatballs on a stick."
Danny frowned. "Since when did you – "
" – I don't. But it's on a stick."
"Okay." He kind of wanted to see that for himself anyway.
The hoopla game was rigged. That was completely obvious from the start. And yet it still didn't stop them spending nearly three dollars trying to win the digital watch. Danny managed to get the ring just on the edge a couple of times. Rusty knocked over the vase next to the watch. That was the point when they decided that they were throwing their money away. And fairly badly at that.
"Our talents lie elsewhere," Rusty mused, leaning back against the counter as Danny tried his luck at the shooting range.
"The angle was impossible," Danny pointed out, missing five ducks in a row. This was slightly embarrassing.
"Yeah, but if the game's rigged then you need to cheat, right?" Rusty looked round and watched carefully as Danny missed the next set of ducks. He grinned and put another couple of quarters down. "Like if the gun sight is squint, you stop trying to hit the ducks dead centre and aim . . ." He frowned thoughtfully. "Two inches to the right."
The stall owner glared at them. Danny looked at Rusty for a moment. Then he picked up the gun and tried again. Five shots, three ducks. Oh, that was more like it. He grinned as the stall owner scowled and sourly handed him a large plushy rabbit.
"Little scary," Rusty commented as they walked away. "It's cross-eyed."
"It's trying to see you coming from both sides. So it can work it's evil," Danny said solemnly.
Rusty appeared to give this all due consideration. "The cuddly toy is evil?"
"Aren't they all?" Danny frowned suddenly. "What am I going to do with a two foot long rabbit?"
"Don't you like it?" Rusty asked, with a raised eyebrow.
Danny just looked at him. "Think I outgrew cuddly toys a while back, Rus'. Mom gave mine to the Goodwill a couple of years ago."
"I had a teddy bear once. Mom set fire to it when I was five." Rusty was laughing. Danny couldn't quite see the funny. Rusty obviously noticed him looking and shrugged impatiently. "Anyway, the point is that you've won it. Doesn't matter what you do with it after that." He suddenly looked past Danny. "Why don't you give it away?"
Danny followed his gaze and saw Annette and Celeste. Standing on their own, admiring a display of gaudy costume jewellery. Oh. Right. "I'll just – " he began.
Rusty nodded. " – I'm going to go get some cotton candy. See you later."
With a couple of deep breaths (which had nothing to do with nervousness. Nothing at all.) he sauntered up behind the girls. "Lost your chaperone?"
They jumped and spun round and giggled. It was surprisingly co-ordinated. "Hi, Danny," Annette said shyly.
Celeste's attention was immediately drawn to the rabbit. "Oh! Did you win that?" Her voice was admiring and Danny felt himself smiling.
"Uh huh. Do you like it?"
"She's gorgeous." She? Why was the rabbit a girl?
"Then it's yours." He handed it over with a flourish and watched her blush and coo over it.
"Thank you, Danny," she smiled broadly at him and Annette giggled.
"Where is Mrs. Darcey, anyway?" he asked. Because he really didn't want to risk her suddenly appearing behind him.
"She had to stop for a rest and a cup of tea, and she wanted to talk to Mrs. Williams about Mr. Williams' secretary," Annette explained, and Danny could tell that she didn't really understand what she was saying. Which was good. "She won't notice we've gone for at least another ten minutes."
"Time for me to buy you two an ice-cream then?" he suggested.
They giggled. Again.
He cut off Rusty's apologies with a look before they'd even begun. Partly because it really didn't bother him, partly because it hadn't especially been Rusty's fault, but mostly because when Rusty was struggling so hard not to laugh, he kind of doubted the sincerity.
Pulling a fistful of cotton candy off his shirt, he sighed. Should have seen this coming. Cotton candy? Fine. Ride called the Revolutioniser? Great. Both of them together? Really, really not clever. But Annette and Celeste had been so awestruck in their descriptions, and when they'd said that Mrs. Darcey hadn't let them go on, how could Danny resist? They'd headed back to the refreshment tent, and Danny had run to find Rusty and dragged him to find the ride. And they'd seen it, and it had looked so awesome, and they hadn't even given a thought to the cotton candy Rusty was still clutching. But as soon as the spinning-upside down fun had started, it had flown off the stick. All over Danny.
"I'm – " Rusty began again.
Danny shook his head. " – don't. I'm going to go and get cleaned up."
Rusty nodded and took a bite out of the cotton candy he had left. Danny sighed again and headed off to find the restroom block.
He managed to get most of the stickiness out eventually. Well, some of it. Enough that he didn't feel like a complete idiot. But when he got back to where he'd left Rusty, Rusty was nowhere to be seen. And that was odd.
Ten minutes of methodical searching and he was getting worried. And then he turned a corner and saw Sam and saw his four friends, and saw that they had Rusty surrounded, pinned against the wall, and worried became frantic.
He crept closer, thinking desperately.
"Gonna teach you to laugh at me, you little shit," Sam's voice was harsh and Danny was close enough now to see the blankness in Rusty's eyes and hate it.
And yet Rusty's voice was still amused and didn't tremble. "Don't need any help with that, thanks. You make it easy."
Sam's hand flew back and Danny was never going to stand and watch that happen. "What do you think you're doing, boy?" he bellowed, and he made his voice deeper and older, and he put every last inch of four years of righteous fury into it.
It worked; the boys sprang back and whirled round to face him, but he only waited until Rusty – who was always going to be able to recover faster than those idiots – squirmed past them before they both started running.
"Thanks!" Rusty yelled across to him, as they dodged through the crowds, thundering footsteps and angry shouts sounding mere feet behind them, and Danny couldn't help but think that this was how they'd started the day.
He just looked at Rusty, with an expression designed to convey just how ridiculous – and insulting - it was to be thanked for that kind of thing. "How'd they – "
" – they were looking."
Danny considered this, and kept running. "Guess – "
" – all the fun of the fair – " Rusty agreed.
" – just not enough," Danny concluded.
"Sad," Rusty nodded, and they dodged between a couple of stalls, leapt through a pile of cardboard boxes and severely vexed a woman holding a chicken.
They paused for breath; they couldn't see the boys, but they could still hear them and Danny looked round desperately for a hiding place. "In here," he said finally, and dragged Rusty into a photo booth.
Breathing hard they huddled together on the bench for a few minutes, before Rusty dropped a quarter into the mechanism and turned to Danny with a serious expression. "Got a comb?"
Danny started laughing, and Rusty grinned back and the flashes took them by surprise.
"Why don't people ever seem to like us?" Danny complained, lightly.
"Most people love us," Rusty pointed out. "Guess he didn't think that mustard went with that shirt."
Danny grinned and listened hard. Nothing. But still.
"Few more minutes," Rusty agreed.
"Want to go back and try and get that watch?" Danny suggested.
Rusty frowned. "Good money after bad?"
Danny held up a wallet. "Since Sam's paying . . . "
Rusty held up a different wallet. "His friend made a contribution too."
Perfect. They'd been running short on funds. He pulled the curtain back and looked round cautiously. No sign. Rusty followed him out, and Danny stared back at the machine as it dispensed the little strip of photos, half tempted, half reluctant. Because he kind of wanted them, but he knew he shouldn't. He was thirteen; he wasn't supposed to be soppy.
Rusty stopped and turned back with a frown. He blinked when he realised what Danny was looking at. "Oh yeah." Carefully he folded the strip of photos and put them away in his pocket and Danny felt a tiny stab of disappointment.
They noticed the crowd around the stall and the man with the cards as they were heading back to the hoopla stand, and they stopped to watch. Find the Lady, and he could tell Rusty was entranced. They watched the man shuffle the deck, watched him lay out the cards, watched as time after time people picked the wrong one. And Danny watched Rusty and he saw the intensity and the concentration and the learning, and he idly thought that the next time his Uncle Ed came over the man was going to get fleeced.
Of course, Danny was more than a little alarmed when Rusty stepped forwards, slipped into his wide-eyed and precocious routine, and said "I know how you do that."
The dealer paused and looked at Rusty, and Danny could see the measurement and the calculation. "There's no trick to it, boy."
"Yes there is," Rusty insisted, with just the hint of a lisp, and Danny could see the crowd smiling and listening to him. "It's a cheat." Not good. But everything in their private language said 'Keep out; I've got it covered', and if he didn't trust that he didn't have anything, so Danny stood and watched and worried.
"You're a smart one, aren't you?" The man's voice was amused. His eyes weren't. "Why don't you give it a try and we'll see what happens?"
Rusty nodded, and the crowd parted and let him put his money down. And Danny had been watching, and he could see that when the cards were laid out, when they were switched round, it was different than before. He couldn't quite see how, but there was some subtle difference. Finally the man stopped. "So where do you think the Queen is, boy?" And he was staring straight at Rusty and there was both challenge and appreciation in the look.
Immediately Rusty tapped the card on the centre, and the man turned it over to reveal the Queen of Hearts. The crowd sighed, contentedly.
"See? No trick," the man said loudly. "Anyone can win, if their eyes are quick, right boy?"
"Right," Rusty lied with a grin in his voice.
"And here's your prize!" The man shoved a plastic bag into Rusty's hand and Danny almost choked. "Step right up! So easy a child can win!"
Danny waited until Rusty walked back over before he fixed him with a steady stare. "And now we have a goldfish," he stated.
Rusty looked down at the little fish, swimming contentedly in the plastic bag. "You think I didn't think this through, don't you?"
"It's a fish," Danny pointed out. Because it might be obvious, but there was no harm in cutting to the root of the problem.
"I think he's cute," Rusty held the bag up in front of his face. "See? He's looking at me."
"It's a fish," Danny repeated. "What are you going to do with it?"
Rusty ignored him, more or less. "We'll need a fishbowl. I wonder if I can train him to come when he's called?"
"No. You can't Because it's a fish." Danny could be patient.
"Think I'm going to call him Captain Flash," Rusty said thoughtfully.
Capt . . . Danny blinked. "Okay. New rule. You don't get to name anything, ever."
"We're not really good at sticking to rules," Rusty pointed out.
"Rus'" And this time Danny's voice was gentle. "You can't keep him at your place."
"I know that," Rusty said, after barely a fraction of a second's pause. "He wouldn't be safe."
"And my parents have always said no pets," Danny added.
"He's just a fish," Rusty said quietly. "Maybe they wouldn't notice?"
Maybe. And he couldn't say no. Not really. "We'll give it a shot," he promised and Rusty turned round and smiled at him happily.
And that was when Sam stepped up behind them and, with a laugh, knocked the plastic bag out of Rusty's hand. Water and fish spilled everywhere and they stared down in horror as Captain Flash stopped flopping.
Danny looked over at Rusty, words of commiseration and comfort on his lips, along with the word 'run', but he saw Rusty's expression shift from the neutrality of shock and anger to the neutrality of plotting, and he'd been looking at something just over Danny's shoulder. He risked a quick look behind him and his eyes widened in brief recognition before he turned back to Rusty and signalled his agreement.
"He killed my fish!" Rusty said, loudly and clearly on the brink of tears. Everyone in the vicinity immediately stopped and looked round at them, and they – and Sam and his friends – found themselves in the centre of a widening circle. "He did it deliberately! Captain Flash was my fish and he killed him."
Sam laughed and looked round at his friends. "Look at the little baby, crying over a dead goldfish," he crowed, and Danny had the satisfaction of watching him pale as his mother stepped out of the crowd.
"Samuel Archibald Harrison, I'm ashamed of you!" And while no-one was looking, Danny took the opportunity to turn round to Rusty and mouth 'Archibald?' and see the answering echo of amusement. "You apologise to this child immediately, do you hear me? I didn't raise you to be a bully."
"Sorry," Sam muttered, looking anything but. Rusty carried on sniffling, his bottom lip wobbling, and the crowd's sympathies were very much on his side. And that was Danny's cue.
He threw a comforting arm around Rusty's shoulder, and he glared at Sam. "Don't mention it," he bit off, and then he turned to Sam's mother. "Sorry. He's been a bit emotional ever since . . . " he trailed off, and patted Rusty's arm, and grimaced in true embarrassed-older-brother fashion.
Sympathy and understanding flooded her face, and he wondered idly exactly what traumatic story she was using to fill in the blanks. "Oh, dear," she breathed.
Not quite enough. Rusty turned a woebegone look up at Danny. "He killed my fish." And his voice cracked, just a little.
"There, there," Danny comforted, and the crowd tutted disapprovingly, and as one they glared at Sam.
"Oh, dear," Sam's mother said again, and she reached for her purse and pulled out ten dollars. "Here." They made no move to take it. "Please. Think of it as my son's allowance for the next couple of months. Buy a new fish . . . or something. Let me make amends. Please."
Hesitantly Danny reached out and took the money. "Thank you, ma'am," he said sincerely, and it wasn't exactly a con after all.
She turned her attention to her son. "Just wait till I get you home." Sam shuffled his feet and hung his head and she looked past him towards his friends. "And don't think your parents won't be hearing about this."
Danny looked at Rusty and they quietly vanished into the ground.
"I'm sorry about Captain Flash," Danny said after a moment.
Rusty shrugged. "It was a fish," he said unwillingly. "We couldn't have kept the stupid thing anyway."
Danny reached out and squeezed his arm, and Rusty walked a step closer and they didn't need to say anything.
"Want a hotdog?" Danny suggested, noticing the stall that they'd been at that morning.
"Sure." Rusty didn't sound particularly enthusiastic and Danny winced.
Still he walked up and he asked for two hotdogs, and he opened his wallet and he froze. Because there was something in his wallet that shouldn't be there. Something that hadn't been there earlier. Something that he hadn't put there. With trembling fingers he pulled out the little strip of photos. Two children (and he wondered if he always looked that young, and he knew that Rusty never did.) hunched together on the narrow bench. Sticky with cotton candy. Giddy with laughter. Bright. Happy. Shining.
He looked round immediately, ignoring the hotdog vendor trying to get his attention, and he knew his face was asking the question, but Rusty just shrugged and wouldn't meet his eyes. And a thousand words bubbled up inside him; about friendship, and family, and love and forever; but Rusty looked away and Danny felt the moment slip away, frustrated.
But when they sat on the grass, eating their hotdogs, idly watching the people go by, Danny casually brushed his arm against Rusty's, and Rusty turned round and smiled at him, bright like the sun, and Danny thought that maybe there were other ways of saying thank you. (other ways of saying 'I love you.')
This chapter did not go where it was supposed to. But I actually like where it did go. Hope you did too.