Chapter six.
It was the White Rabbit, trotting slowly back again, and looking anxiously about as it went, as if it had lost something; and she heard it muttering to itself, "The Duchess! The Duchess! Oh my dear paws! Oh my fur and whiskers! She'll have me executed, as sure as ferrets are ferrets! Where can I have dropped them, I wonder?"
Fall offered a selection of apples for his choosing, his least favorite of which was the golden delicious. Too mealy.
Walter briefly pondered a tall display of granny smiths, at last stooping to pluck up a paper bag, his fingertips twitching across his chin as he silently calculated mass, circumference, and price, "Walt, can we please go?" William at last whined.
"In a bit."
William blew air through his cheeks, covering his eyes with his hand, "You're boring me to death, Bish."
"What am I to do, a song and dance?" Walter snapped, grumpy as his calculations were interrupted, "It was your own choice to tag along. I could have met you at the bank."
William shrugged, "I wasn't doing anything else anyways. But, honestly, watching you shop is absolute torture."
"Then go do something else-"
"Not for me, I'm used to you being boring. Poor little Peter is falling asleep," Peter, still dressed in his preschool uniform and holding William's hand quietly, was rubbing his eyes tiredly. William frowned at Walter, "it's your obligation to entertain him, while Elizabeth is away."
"William-" Walter started testily.
"What I offer is a simple solution," William interrupted with a smile, and Walter sighed, biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself quiet, "Lemme get Peterbutter some, ah, I-C-E-"
"He can spell," Walter interrupted.
"Well, then, why not? Do you want some ice-cream, big guy?" William stooped slightly to smooth back Peter's hair as his grip on Williams sleeve tightened, and a smile spread across each of their faces.
"Fine," Walter replied, "I'll meet you at the drugstore after checkout. Don't get distracted, I still have to drop Peter off with Elliot before we go to the bank." He began selecting apples, shuffling them into the paper bag by twos.
"Does he have a nut allergy?" William questioned.
"Would he still be holding your hand?" Walter smirked slightly, tipping the bag into the scale.
"I knew it! You're never this boring on purpose. I'll get you a pistachio strawberry cone. Later, Bish." William gave him a wink and scampered off with Peter down the organics aisle.
"None of that Wavy-Gravy nonsense you like!" Walter called after them. He shook his head with a smile, and folded the paper bag shut, settling it among the cracker boxes as he consulted his messily-scrawled list through his bifocals. "Bacon? I suppose she wants some of that fake-on garbage in the hippie aisle..."
"Bish!" William caught up with him at the checkout stand, as he was counting out the total of his purchase at the register, and his face looked pallid with worry.
"They were out of pistachio?" Walter questioned with a smirk, beginning to load his groceries into the basket.
"No- Bish, I can't find Peter!"
Walter froze, "What?"
"We were at the store, and I looked away for a second to steal some gummibears, and- and he was just gone-!" Walter was already sweeping toward the front of the store, apples scattering in his wake, and William was at his heels, "I swear to god, Bish, it was only for a damn second-!"
Walter was pushing violently through sidewalk traffic, his senses peaked with panic, "Peter!" He shouted, "Peter!" He suddenly gripped William by the collar, snarling, "You help me find him, or a swear to god-"
"There!" William cried, pointing. Across the street, a stranger in a white ball cap and a dark blue jacket was pulling Peter along by the arm, looking alarmed and frightened. They were slipping unhindered around the corner of the drugstore, as Peter could raise no alarm to his entrapment.
"Hey!" Walter shouted, and the stranger paused, looking back. Peter, looking very confused in tow, tugged away from the man, toward his father, "Peter!"
"Bish!" William shouted after Walter as he bolted for his son. Peter's struggling had sufficiently slowed the abductor, and Walter dodged the traffic on the street, cars honking and squeaking breaks at his interruption. He vaulted the hood of a parked car, and in three fleeting steps, had the stranger by the collar, driving him into the pavement.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Walter hissed, "I'll fucking kill you, you god damn freak!" The man opened his mouth to speak, and Walter broke his jaw. He raised his fist again, his teeth bared, "Don't you dare touch my son-!" and he struck him again, blood bursting from his nostrils and a cut under his eye, "You son of a-!" Walter roared, driving his arm down with all his strength, repeatedly. He wanted to feel pavement, under the blood squeezing through his fingers, and had no intention of stopping his punishment until he did...
"Walter!" Arms seized him under the armpits, ripping him away from his victim, and he struggled to get free, ragged growls tearing from his throat through clenched teeth, "Walter, stop it! Stop! Calm the fuck down!"
A gurgle, followed by a small moan, was the only response, from the abductor, writhing on the cement. Walter was panting as he shrugged off William's grip, wiping his lips on his blood-dotted forearm, "son of a bitch," he breathed.
Peter had begun to cry, huddled silently on the sidewalk, and Walter's face softened, as he stooped to gather him up, holding him tightly, "It's alright, Peter. I've got you. You didn't do anything wrong, I'm sorry I shouted." William was stooping to gather Walter's glasses off the pavement.
Peter sobbed into his father's collar, "Daddy, I'm scared."
xXx
"Yes. He's safe, now, he's staying with James and Elliot. I dropped him off this afternoon, I had to clean up before I went to finalize on the loan- "
"Jesus Christ, Walter. Just... Jesus Christ. If that man had gotten our boy-" Elizabeth's voice was tight with stress and tears, on the other end of the telephone line.
"He didn't, Liz. The police have him, now, and Peter is safe. There's nothing else that can be done."
"Thank god they got to him so fast. And they just took your statement and arrested him?"
"Yes," Walter replied, shaking stinging iodine from his torn knuckles and drying his quaking hands on a towel as he held the telephone in the crook of his neck.
"And Will didn't do anything rash, did he? You stopped him didn't you? I don't think Peter could have taken it, if... you stopped him, didn't you?"
"Yes," Walter repeated.
There was a shifting, over the line, and Walter knew that she was rubbing tears from her eyes, and he took a seat on the side of the bathtub, beginning to wind gauze tape around his hand, "I'm coming home, Walter-" Elizabeth started.
"No, darling. Stay with your mother, she needs you to help plan the funeral. Peter will be safe, I've taken the weekend off from work to spend with him, we'll be fine."
"Jesus Christ, Walter."
"I know. I'll see you on montag, alright?" he at last lifted his freshly bandaged hand to take the phone away from his neck, standing and stretching.
"Alright, Walter," she replied hesitantly. Walter smiled into the receiver.
"I love you," he said.
"I love you, too."
"Buh-bye." and he ended the call. He clicked the phone back onto its place in the hallway, kicking the drooping cord tight against the wall so that he wouldn't trip over it again. scratching his forehead unconsciously, he moved to the dark, empty living room, draping himself over the sofa silently. It was hard to believe he and Belly had only murdered someone that very same morning.
xXx