Chapter Six
For the next twenty minutes, Nick sat by in mild but pleased bemusement, watching the singularly unexpected marvel of a boy and his fish catching up on all that had happened to them since they had been separated that morning. Minion listened to Blue's story first, occasionally punctuating the telling with positive reinforcement for his master's moments of resourcefulness, as well as cries of dismay over how his friend had been hurt, the horrible things he'd encountered, and the pain he had felt, thinking Minion had been lost to him forever. The fish agreed with Blue's opinion that Jenny Osgood was as perfectly horrible as Ms Driscoll, and that Wayne Scott was a terrible, selfish, stuck-up brat for refusing to help when it would have been so easy for him. In the end, however, he was too relieved to see his master again to hold onto his anger for long.
"I have to admit, I was really shocked when that bratty Jenny actually threw me off the bus!" Minion said when Blue had finally run out of things to tell and was happy to sit and take his turn listening, cradling his friend's habitat in his lap. "I thought I was going to land in the middle of the road and be crushed under all that traffic! Falling off the bridge wasn't very pleasant, either, but it was better than being run over!"
"Did the concussion dispersal work the way it should?" Blue asked as he peeled back the duct tape to inspect the damage. "I know that's what keeps you and your ball from getting hurt when it crashes into things, but I don't know how much it can take, or how long it'll last..."
Minion was as reassuring as he knew how to be. "It worked well enough, sir, though I have to say, I was pretty shaken up by the experience. I was kinda out of it for a while, and I only came around when I heard a truck about to run me over. I rolled out of its way, but the seal on my sphere had cracked, and whenever I rolled, I lost more and more water. I had to stop moving around before I could reach the side of the road, to keep the leaking seam at the top of the sphere. I was still pretty shocky — and scared, too, since the trucks kept moving around me, and a bunch of them came that close to hitting me! I was sure I was a goner when I heard glass smashing, and then Mr. Nick here came and picked me up. I didn't really want to go with him, since I was sure you'd come looking for me, but I was so out of it, I couldn't think straight, and I wasn't about to start talking in front of strangers! It was just as well, though, since from what you've said, I could've frozen by the time you were able to get there, sir. I was already awfully cold when Mr. Nick brought me back here to get warm."
Blue was contrite. "I'm sorry I couldn't get there any sooner, Minion..."
The fish answered with an understanding smile. "I know, sir, and I know it wasn't your fault. I'm just glad you weren't hurt too badly, and that Mr. Nick was able to help both of us."
"It was my pleasure, boys," the man assured them as he gave a stir to the pot of stew from the mission that he was reheating on the hotplate. "I knew that you were a special fish when I first saw you, Minion — never seen anything quite like you before, and I had a feeling someone would come looking for you. But that was a mighty dangerous place for anything in a glass ball — though I didn't know you could move yourself around, you were standing stock still when I nearly tripped over you. Who would've ever expected to find a lost fish bowl in the middle of the street? But I knew you couldn't stay there; all the exotic fishes I've ever seen didn't take too well to the cold."
Minion shivered. "I can't say I care for it, sir, though I'm usually okay with it for a little while. I think you did the right thing, for both of us, and I'm sorry I didn't thank you sooner."
Nick smiled. "That's okay, I understand why you didn't. I might've been a mite disturbed by a talking fish, that's a fact — though right now, it doesn't seem strange at all." He turned his smile to Blue, who responded with one of his own.
"I should've thanked you sooner, too, Mr. Nick," he apologized. "You've been very nice to me, and to Minion. Most people take one look at me and... well, I guess I don't look like anyone they want for a friend."
The man snorted. "Then they're not looking at the right things. One thing you learn living out on the streets, son, is that you can't be too particular about things that don't really matter when it comes to choosing your friends. What a person looks like on the outside isn't anywhere near as important as what he's like on the inside."
"You're very wise, sir," Minion approved. "And very openminded. It's too bad we haven't met more people like you."
"I'm sorry you haven't, either," Nick agreed, deciding that the stew was ready and ladling some of it into the chipped mug from which Blue had eaten his soup. "Both of you seem to me like perfectly nice, polite young fellows. Have you found what's broken there, son?" he asked Blue, who had finished carefully peeling away the duct tape to inspect Minion's sphere.
The boy had been carefully studying things, and now he nodded, relieved. "It's not really broken. I think when it fell off the bridge and hit the ground, the seam for the opening popped — here, see?"
Nick leaned over a bit to have a better look. He whistled softly. "To tell the truth, it looks like an ordinary crack to me. How does it— oh!" Blue had placed his palm against the surface around the "crack"; he turned his hand gently, and when he lifted it, a part of the globe slightly larger than the boy's palm came with it. The opening was large enough for Minion to pass through it without harm, but no more.
Blue's fingers examined the edges of both the plug and the opening. He then sighed, smiling. "It's okay, it was just knocked out of place a little, enough to leak. Do you have some fresh water I can use to refill it, Mr. Nick? Not too cold," he added.
The man nodded as he got up and headed into the washroom. He turned on one of the taps and let it run for a bit while he explained. "The water from the pipes here never gets really hot, but the people who own this place want to sell it, and they won't get a very good price if the pipes freeze and break. They left a water heater on somewhere, set mighty low, but it's enough. How warm do you like it, Minion?"
"Oh, not too warm, Mr. Nick," the fish replied, happy to have been consulted. "I don't want to be cooked!"
Hearing Nick's question, Blue tucked the plug into one pocket, shrugged off the blankets, and padded over to the washroom, carrying Minion's open globe. Carefully balancing the sphere on the sink's edge, he used one hand to hold it safely in place while he reached out on tiptoe to put his other hand under the running water. He smiled up at Nick. "I change Minion's water and clean his globe 'most every day," he explained. After several moments more, he said, "That's warm enough. Do you have a cup or a pitcher?"
From a shelf above the toilet, Nick brought down a large tin cup. Without needing to be asked, he washed and rinsed it thoroughly, then filled it and offered it to Blue. The boy took it with the most solemn of expressions, carefully pouring water into the ball until it quivered at the very edge of spilling over. He then took the bowl's plug, rinsed it under the water, deftly slid it into its proper place and closed it. Now sealed, the globe appeared perfectly seamless.
"That's mighty fine workmanship," Nick said, unable to see where the bowl and its closure met. "Can't see a thing there, now. Can you?"
Blue shrugged. "Most of the time. If I can't, I can feel where it opens with my fingers." He demonstrated for Nick, who tried to feel the edge.
He shook his head in wonder. "You've got more sensitive fingers than I do, son. It's just solid glass to me."
This time, Blue's smile was impish. "That's what all the— what everyone at home says. They think it's some kind of trick, but they never can find the opening, and I always can." He returned to his chair, cradling Minion in his lap once Nick had the blankets wrapped around him.
The man handed Blue his cup of stew and was about to settle down to eat his portion out of the pot when he remembered that he now had another guest. "I'm sorry, Minion," he said apologetically. "I didn't ask if you were hungry — though I'm not sure what have that I can offer you..."
Minion was quite gracious. "Oh, you needn't go through any trouble, sir, I'm fine. I wasn't sure when we'd be going home, so I had a very big breakfast this morning, and if I do get hungry, I can eat almost anything you can." Though his smile was cheerful and friendly, it was also quite toothy, which Nick couldn't miss.
He chuckled. "I suppose you could. I thought you must be some kind of piranha, at first, until you started talking."
"Most people do," Minion said with a sigh. "It's only an unfortunate resemblance. Those barbarians are strictly carnivorous. I prefer a more eclectic diet."
Nick chuckled heartily, amused not only by Minion's excellent manners, but also by his remarkable vocabulary. "Just let me know if there's anything you'd like, then. If I don't have it, I have lots of good friends to ask."
"Thank you, Mr. Nick. For now, it's more than enough to be out of the cold and back with Sir." Blue, his mouth filled with a spoonful of stew, patted his friend's sphere in his own happy contentment.
When they had finished their meal, Nick's washed down with a cup of coffee and Blue's with a small carton of milk, both from the mission, Nick took the dirtied dishes back to washroom to clean up. While he was working, cheerfully humming a holiday tune, Minion looked up at his master.
"Sir," he asked as softly as he could, "are we going to go back, or have you decided to run away, after all?"
Blue glanced at their benefactor, who gave no indication that he was listening. He sighed, little more loudly than a breath. "I don't know. I don't think it would be right to ask Mr. Nick to take care of us forever. He doesn't have much, and he's been awfully good to us already. I wouldn't miss anyone from shool, but... well, I think there are some people at the... you-know-where that I would miss. I still didn't get a chance to write a thank you letter to Mrs. Davis, like I promised. And... I guess I would miss some of my uncles, too, but..." His voice trailed off, his insides jumbled with conflicting feelings.
Minion understood. "You don't have to decide right now, sir. Say, maybe this is your chance to be away on Christmas Eve, and find out if what the kids told you about The List is true!"
"The List?" Nick said idly as he came back into the room. He looked up abruptly, his expression filled with remorse. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop. Your business is your own, like I promised." He busied himself with putting away the dishes, clearly embarrassed.
Blue watched him for a few moments, then turned to Minion. Seeing no answer in his friend's face, he looked back at Nick, and made a decision. "It's something the other kids have been telling me," he explained. "Mr. Claus only visits kids who've been good, and anybody who's been bad gets put on the Naughty List. I..." He hesitated; then, taking a deep breath, he blurted out the rest. "Everything I do in class is wrong, I'm always causing trouble no matter how hard I try to be good, and I live in a prison. Everybody who lives in a prison is bad or they wouldn't be there, so I must've been born bad, and I'll never get off the List."
Nick listened without interrupting; when Blue was finished, his head hanging in shame and bitterness, the man sat down again, his own expression both appalled and compassionate. "Is this what they told you, or what you thought they said?"
The silence hung heavy for a minute before Blue answered. "It's what they said, the other kids an' my teacher. I do live in a prison, I have since my pod landed there when I was a baby. I told 'em that, that it was accident that I landed there, but they said it didn't matter. It must've been meant to happen, and everyone in a prison is on the List, forever."
Nick's snort was dismissive, but not of Blue. "That's just plain ridiculous. The people who usually live in prisons did bad things — very bad things — on purpose. I don't see why anyone would raise a baby there, no matter where he came from or what he looks like."
Blue was very quiet for a moment or two, thinking. "I don't exactly know for sure, but... Would I be tattling if I told you what I heard other people saying?"
"That depends. If you tell a secret that you promised to keep, that's not tattling, but it is breaking a promise. But if you tell something just to get another person in trouble, then it might be. Is that what this is?"
Blue considered things, then shook his head. "I heard this by accident. I was still really small, and I kinda got in trouble 'cause I went somewhere in the prison I wasn't supposed to go. I got hurt a little, and while I was sitting in the infirmary, I heard the doctor and the warden talking outside the door. The doctor didn't think I belonged there, and the warden said I didn't, but he couldn't find anyone who wanted me, not for the right reasons. I don't know what he meant by that, but he said I had to stay there, for my own good. But I never did anything really bad, honest! I just... never fit in, anywhere."
He frowned so fiercely, Nick was taken aback by it. "I wish I was like all the other kids! I wanna have hair, an' skin that isn't blue, an' a head that isn't so big and ugly...!" There was such intense self-hatred in his words, even Minion was shocked.
"Oh, sir...!" was all the fish could say, horrified.
Nick, however, was not rendered speechless, though he was no less distressed. He leaned forward in his chair, his voice firm but kind. "Now, hold on there, Blue, let's just stop and think about this for a minute. Why do you want to be just like all the other kids?"
The boy's lips trembled, but the ferocity of his expression did not waver. "B-because I'm a freak! I'm not like anybody else, an' everyone hates me 'cause I'm not! Nobody wants me, nobody cares if I live or die...!" The vehemence of his emotions choked his voice to silence, but could not quell the hurt and anger in his shimmering eyes.
"That's not true," Nick said softly, something in his voice startling Blue. "Your friend Minion cares, and I care. I even think that the doctor and the warden cared. It's true that you're different, Blue. You're one of a kind, just like your little friend, there. But the only people who think different is bad are people who are mean and selfish and just plain blind to what's good in others. You're blue, and you came from another planet, but that doesn't make you a freak; it makes you special, special in a way nobody else can be, special in a way that nobody can take away from you, no matter how hard they try. That's what they're doing every time they call you names and put you down. They're trying to rob you of the greatest gift you've got by making you think it's bad or wrong or ugly. You're blue, you're a nice kid, you're cute, you're very smart, and all that is part of what makes you you. Maybe you wound up where you are by accident, and maybe it's going to be hard for you to find your place in this world. But you're not naughty just because other people say you are, and you won't ever find your proper place if you give up. Just look at yourself! Blue is the color of a sunny sky, it's the color of lakes and rivers and the whole wide ocean. As a matter of fact, if you look at Earth from out in space, the whole planet is blue — and here you are, the only blue person in it! If you think about it, in a way, you're more a part of this world than anyone else. You should be proud of yourself for the unique and beautiful person you are, Blue. Don't let other people who can't see beyond their own noses tell you there's something wrong with you. They're fools, and you know better."
For what felt like a very long time, Blue sat there, trying to take in all that Nick had said. It was a lot for anyone to think about, especially a child, but Blue was smart, and he could tell that this was important, even if he didn't quite understand everything Nick had told him.
He finally stirred when Minion moved his sphere enough to gently nudge his arm. "He's right, sir. I don't think Dr. Schneider and Warden Thurmer ever meant to say that they didn't want you or like you; they're just trying to do what's best for you, like I do. You are special, just as special as Wayne Scott — more special, if you ask me. If you were just like everyone else, why, you wouldn't be you!"
The emphatic words of both his companions touched Blue in ways he didn't understand at all — but it felt good, warm and strangely tingly, a little like the way it felt when he got an idea for a new invention or something he could make in the machine shop that would be interesting or useful or just plain cool. He kept all that had been said tucked away in his thoughts for later consideration. Events of the next year would, sadly, lead him to some mistaken conclusions and interpretations about himself. Like Wayne, it would be another thirty years before he grasped the full and proper truth of it, but in time, he would understand everything that Nick and Minion had been trying to tell him.
He blinked the remnants of unshed tears from his bright green eyes, then smiled, first at Minion, then at Nick. "I guess you're both right," he admitted. "It's kinda silly, wishing to be something I'm not. Blue is a nice color, a lot nicer'n that sick blotchy red Jenny Osgood turns when she gets all mad an' snotty. And I'd rather be smart and blue than pink and stupid like Wayne." He rubbed the top of his bald head. "Though I still kinda wish I had at least some hair."
Nick laughed, a hearty, friendly sound. "Trust me, little Blue, it can be more trouble than it's worth." He fluffed out his mop of shaggy white hair with both hands, turning into a wild-looking mane, then made a show of attempting to tame it again with his fingers, without success. He was being deliberately outrageous, and grinned when his antics made the boy laugh. "So," he said, pulling out an old comb to do a more thorough job of putting things back in order, "what do you want for Christmas, Blue?"
The boy blinked in surprise. "I—I don't know," he said honestly. "Nobody ever asked me that before."
"Never?"
"Never. I guess that's 'cause what the other kids say is true, you get presents from either Mr. Claus or your parents. My parents are gone, and Mr. Claus doesn't visit kids in prisons."
The face Nick made was oddly skeptical. "I suppose that's not his usual style, but like I said, you never can tell. Things change. And it never hurts to dream, Blue. Even if you can't always get what you want, dreaming can give you something to shoot for, someday."
"That's a nice idea," Minion opined in his own dreamy fashion. "I don't know what I'd wish for, myself, but I never really thought about whether or not I could. Do you suppose Mr. Claus would give a present to a fish?"
Nick grinned. "Don't see why not, though I imagine he's probably given more fish as pets — not intelligent talking ones, of course."
Minion rolled his eyes. "Oh, I know about those kind. Sir's school had some pet goldfish, until one of the little monsters flushed them down the toilet." He shuddered at the remembered horror. "Savages!"
Nick heartily agreed. "For myself, I think I'd like a steady job again, maybe teaching, though I'm probably getting a little too old for that. A new pair of boots that don't leak would be good, too." His dark eyes shifted back to the quiet boy. "What about you, Blue? Have you thought of anything you'd like?"
Blue remained thoughtful for a minute longer, then nodded. "I'd like another name. Blue's okay, like Brown and Black and Green, but everyone else has two, one they got from their family, and one they got from their parents. I guess everyone at the prison is kinda my family, so Blue is my family name, but..." A pang of wistfulness crossed the little face. "I don't know what name my parents gave me. I don't even know if they did."
Minion was swift to contradict. "They did, sir, I know they did, it's just my fault that I can't remember what it is. They were so busy getting things ready to save you, getting me ready to go with you. I know I heard them say your name, but I don't have a brain or a memory like yours. I just can't remember it." If his sphere could have deflated, it would have, so great was his disappointment in letting down his beloved young master.
Both Blue and Nick patted the fish's globe in consolation. "That's okay, Minion," Nick said, echoing Blue. "In the big picture, that's not as important as being there for Blue and helping take care of him." His hand shifted to pat the boy's good knee. "And there are plenty of people who got names from their parents that were perfectly awful, so they wound up picking another name for themselves. It's not that unusual, really."
When Blue favored him with an unmistakable look of pure disbelief, he laughed. "No joke," he promised. "My parents named me after my father, who was named after his father. Mortimer. I tried to get them to call me Morty or just about anything else, but when they wouldn't, I decided to start using my middle name, Nicholas, or Nick. It was less confusing, since both my dad and granddad used Mortimer and Morty, and it was a lot easier to live with when I started school. And when I was a teacher, there were plenty of kids who picked names for themselves that weren't what their parents had given them. There's no reason you can't do the same thing."
Blue considered this. "I suppose," he said after a while. "But even if it's sucky, I'd still like to know what my mom and dad called me."
Minion nuzzled at the hand resting on his ball. "I know, sir, and I'm trying as hard as I can to remember. Maybe when both of us are a little older, I will."
"That's the spirit," Nick approved. "Never give up, especially when you've got nothing to lose to keep trying. You're both still young—" He paused, thinking. "Just how old are you two?" he wondered. "You don't look to be more than seven..."
"We're not exactly sure," Minion provided. "Sir was eight days old when our pod was launched, and I was about a year older, I think. The drive in the pod got us away from the vortex in only a few hours, but I think it took another two weeks for it navigate the local asteroid belt and brake for entry into the right destination on Earth."
Blue sniffed, a stubborn teacher trying to instruct an equally stubborn student. "It was exactly two weeks, Minion, I keep telling you. That's what the conversion to Earth time would be."
Minion knew this was a debate he couldn't win. "If you say so, sir. Our pod was knocked off course at the last second, Mr. Nick—"
"On purpose," Blue added grimly.
"—which is how we finally landed in the exercise yard of the Metro City prison. It was an awfully rough landing, the pod took a few hard bounces before we stopped. That was six years ago tomorrow."
Nick's face brightened. "So you just turned six, Blue? Well happy birthday, even if it's a mite late! And you arrived here on Earth on Christmas Day? Don't that beat all! Y'know, I had a bunch of temp jobs back then, was working here in the warehouse district, driving trucks, loading 'em up, doing turns as a security guard. That's how I got the owners of this place to let me hole up here when I didn't have anywhere else to go, they knew I'd done that kind of work before. As a matter of fact, I think I was doing a guard shift for one of the other shippers on Christmas Day six years back..."
His voice trailed off as his whole face turned thoughtful, trying to recall something important that was tickling at the back of his mind. He reached out and touched Minion's globe again, studying the feeling of its glassy surface under his fingers. He thought some more, then abruptly stood up as things snapped into focus.
With a smile, he moved over to the filing cabinets while he rummaged about his pockets, eventually producing a small key. "You know, some folks say there's no such thing as coincidence in this world, and after everything that's happened today, I'm sure beginning to think they're right." He glanced back at his curious guests as he fitted the key to the lock on a specific drawer. "Even old hobos like me have a few things they consider their treasures and don't want to risk losing," he explained.
When the drawer was open, he carefully began searching its contents. "Like I said, six years ago, I had a temp job as a security guard for one of the companies hereabouts, filling in for the regulars on Christmas Day to give 'em time with their families since mine's all long gone. Early in the day, I was making the rounds inside the building near the loading gates when I heard this huge crash just outside. At first, I thought it was a truck slamming into the docks because its brakes failed — the weather wasn't so nasty that day; it was actually kinda nice for December. Anyway, I knew there weren't any trucks moving in the delivery yard that day, and the whole thing just didn't sound or feel right. I hustled outside, but by the time I got there, all I could see was this big dent in the pavement, like somebody had bounced a wrecking ball off it. There was nothing there but some chunks of broken concrete and bits and pieces of what mostly looked like junk from an old car crash. Later that day, I heard on the news that there had been meteorites spotted in the area that morning, bright enough to see in the daylight, and some of the reports said that one of 'em looked like a skipping rock before it finally stopped or burned up. I thought the whole thing was a little bit crazy sounding, but the skipping rock idea was the only one that could explain what I'd heard and seen. To this day, I thought it really was nothing but a meteor, but after hearing what you just told me, I think now that what I'd heard was your pod, bouncing across the city."
He returned to his seat, scootching it a little closer to the boy and his fish. "I never told anybody, but there was something I found there that day that I always thought was just a piece of junk that got melted by the heat of the 'meteor.' I kept it as a souvenir, but now that I've heard your story and seen your ball, Minion, I think this really belongs to the two of you."
He held out one hand that he'd been keeping in a pocket and opened his fingers. On his palm sat a small, perfect sphere of what looked to be the same stuff as Minion's globe. It was clear and had no occupant, and it was difficult to tell if it was solid or hollow. "I have no idea what it is," Nick admitted. "It's always reminded me of a snow globe, but without any snow. It's not much, but whatever it is, it might be something from your planet. You should have it, not me."
As Nick held it out so they could inspect it more closely, Minion floated to the top of his globe for a better look in the flickering candlelight. "It does look like the same kind of material, sir," he said to Blue. "I don't know what it might've been for, but if it has the same kind of concussion resistance as my habitat, it could've been a piece of the pod's exterior that broke off in that landing. Maybe it was part of a crash protection system."
"Maybe," Blue agreed, his mind going at hyperspeed as he considered what purpose the thing might serve. "It could've just been for decoration, too, or maybe it was something like a reflector. It does look pretty shiny, even with only a little light."
Nick nodded. "That's part of why I kept it. I thought it was pretty, and I didn't figure anyone else would have a use for it." He took one of Blue's hands, turned it, and placed the thing on his palm, where it nestled quite comfortably, as if it had been made to fit just him. "It might be the last thing anyone will find from your planet, Blue, so by rights, it's yours, now."
Blue smiled softly and was about to say thank you when something happened to steal his breath away. The moment Nick let go of it and the ball was being touched by Blue alone, it started to glow. Its interior glittered and sparkled like fine snow in a whirlwind, giving off a gentle blue-green light that was beautiful to see.
"Well, I'll be!" Nick breathed in wonder, awed by the lovely sight as the colors shifted. "Here I've had it for six years, and I never knew it could do that!"
Minion was equally entranced. "It's beautiful!" he declared, captivated by the unexpected light show. "I think you're right, Mr. Nick, this is from the pod! It reminds me of the ribbons of color that sometimes appeared in the night sky over the pond where I was born."
But Blue scarcely heard his friend, so entranced was he by what he held in his hand. As he gazed into the depths of the glow at the heart of the small sphere, totally enchanted by the whirling lights and dancing colors, they shifted in ways that seemed strangely familiar. His big green eyes got wider and wider, brighter and brighter, until he suddenly exclaimed, "Oh, Minion, look, look, look! It's my mom and dad!"
TBC...