CHAPTER 3

Mac and Bloo emerged from the front door, ready to head to the police station to find out where Rainbow used to live. "We should hurry," Mac said. "Mom knows I'm out late, but I said I'd be back in a little while, so I don't want her to get worried."

"No sweat," Bloo said, still clutching his magnifying glass. "If we're out too long, I have a few excuses you can use. They're guaranteed to work!"

Before Mac could retort, he heard a sound coming from around back of the house. It sounded like someone was using the basketball court. Curiously, the two went around to look, and they found Wilt practicing his slam dunks. He looked somewhat upset, like he was when Mac saw him just before. "Are you okay?" Mac asked.

Wilt completed another dunk, and then huffed, "I'm all right."

"No you're not," Mac said. "Something's wrong; what is it?"

Wilt sighed and sat down on the ground, rolling the basketball around in his hand, "I guess I'm just a little... a little depressed. I talked to Rainbow about Kevin..."

"Is that his kid?" Bloo asked.

Nodding, Wilt continued, "You know, he and Kevin were real close. Those two would do anything for each other. That's the way I've lived my whole life, but..." He hesitated.

"But what?" Mac asked.

"But I keep asking myself:" Wilt explained, "What about me? What do people do to help me? I don't want to be selfish, but I don't want to be selfless, either. If I give everything I have, what do I have left? If I have nothing, then who am I?"

"You're the kindest person I know," Mac told him. "If everyone were like you, the world would be a much better place." Wilt smiled a little, and Mac said, "We're heading to the police station to see if we can find out more about Rainbow's family. Want to come?"

Wilt shook his head, "No thanks, but good luck!" The two of them waved and headed off, returning to the front of the house. As soon as they were out of sight, Wilt's expression fell, and he muttered to himself, "If everyone was like me... right. Nobody's like me. That's the problem..."

Officer Edwards sat behind his desk, writing some details on a report; he had been following up on the Fredericks case and still had a lot of paperwork to do on it. It didn't make it any easier that Fredericks had killed himself, because now there were a number of suicide reports and various other tests that had to be performed because of it. Even though those tests had already confirmed that it was indeed suicide, he knew that he would probably be here until late in the evening sorting all of this out.

As he wrote down some more details of the incident, he heard a voice say, "Excuse me... officer Edwards?" Peering over the edge of his desk, he spotted a young boy who looked about eight years old, with a light blue imaginary friend standing next to him that was wearing a detective hat and had a pipe in his mouth. The kid had spoken, and he continued, "I'm Mac, and this is my friend, Bloo. Can we talk to you for a minute?"

"I guess so," Edwards said, setting his pen down. "What is it?"

"We're from Foster's Home for Imaginary friends," Mac told him, while Bloo wandered around the office, examining things with a magnifying glass. "You brought Rainbow over this morning?"

"Ah, yes," Edwards nodded. "How is the little guy?"

"He's doing a lot better," Mac said, "but we wanted to find out some more about his family, so that we can find another one for him as quickly as possible. Can we visit their house, if that's all right?"

Edwards thought about it, and then said, "I don't see any harm in it. The investigators have already cleared out of the scene, so you should be okay to go there. Just... one thing."

"Yes?" Mac asked.

"Don't go into the kitchen," Edwards told him, "Or the couch in the living room. They didn't really clean up, so it's... not a pretty sight."

Cringing, Mac said, "Y-you got it."

Scribbling down on a piece of note paper, Edwards thrust it out at him, along with a key, and said, "Here's the house key and the address. I also put my phone number on there; when you find a home for him, could you give me a call to let me know?"

Mac took the items and said, "No problem. Thanks a lot!" He started for the door; Bloo had been peering closely at a file cabinet and was about to reach out to touch it when Mac grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the office. Edwards shook his head a little, and then returned to his paperwork.

Wilt took a deep breath and knocked on the door to Rainbow's room. After a few moments, the door opened, and Rainbow answered. He was a deep green color, and he smiled as he greeted him, "Hi, Wilt."

"Hey, Rainbow," Wilt said. "Mind if I come in?"

"Not at all," Rainbow said, opening the door and letting him inside. Wilt walked in as Rainbow closed the door behind them. He asked, "Can I help you?"

As Wilt crossed the room, he said, "I'm sorry to bother you. I just think you might be right about the people here. Or maybe right. I don't know, I'm just confused... It's given me a lot to think about."

"I know," Rainbow said, some blue mixing in with his green. "Pick me up for a second, will you?" Wilt nodded and reached down, letting Rainbow step into his hand and the lifting him into the air until they were face to face. The tiny friend continued, "How do you feel about helping them, then?"

"I don't know..." Wilt said. "I mean... it... it makes me happy, but sometimes..."

Rainbow's color shifted to blue as he said, "You don't feel fulfilled. You feel like you're left behind, that they're just using you. You feel like you've given everything you have, and have nothing left. And it makes you sad."

Wilt lowered his eyes, trying to keep it together, but then broke down and started crying. He sat down on Rainbow's bed, still holding him in his hand. Rainbow said nothing, just watched him sadly with his big grey eyes, watching him let it out. After about a minute, Wilt sniffled and managed to say, "I... I-I'm sorry... I just... d-don't know... what to do..."

"It's all right," Rainbow reassured him. "The first thing is... stop apologizing. You are your own person and nobody else. You don't need other people's permission or approval to be who you are."

"Okay..." Wilt said, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to..."

"Do not apologize!" Rainbow shouted, suddenly flaring orange; at the same time, he reached out and slapped Wilt on the side of the face. He couldn't get much force behind it, but it stung just enough to snap him to attention as Rainbow shouted, "If you show insecurity, if you show weakness at all, people will walk all over you. Understand?"

"Yeah," Wilt said, feeling a little upset at himself. "Yeah, I understand."

Rainbow pointed at him and said, "You have to be forceful. You have to be strong! Think of it like you're playing basketball. If you give the other team the ball and let them score, do you win?"

"No..." Wilt admitted, not having thought of it that way before.

"If the other team steals the ball and scores," Rainbow continued, "does that make you feel good?"

"No!" Wilt said, the anger rising in him.

Rainbow was getting into it as well, his orange color becoming even brighter now, "How does it make you feel?"

"Mad!" Wilt said fiercely. "Real mad!"

"And are you going to stand by and let the other team win?" Rainbow added.

Narrowing his eyes, Wilt replied, "Never."

Focusing his gaze on Wilt, Rainbow said, "Then don't let them do it, ever. If you wouldn't let them push you around on the court, then don't let them push you around off the court either."

Wilt hopped to his feet and shouted, "Yeah!" He set Rainbow down on the bed and said, "You're right, Rainbow. I am angry, and I'm not going to take it quietly anymore. Thanks!" He marched out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Rainbow watched him go, still frowning, but then his mouth cracked a smile as his color shifted back to green.

"Hmm, look at this" Mac commented as they walked along the sidewalk, examining the address they were given. "This isn't too far from Foster's. A couple of blocks at most."

Sticking his magnifying glass between Mac's face and the paper, Bloo said, "It must be a clue!"

Mac shoved the magnifying glass out of the way, "Knock it off! That doesn't mean anything besides being a shorter walk back when we're done looking there."

"All right," Bloo frowned. "Spoilsport..."

Checking his watch, Mac said, "We should have enough time, but let's hurry anyway..." The two of them picked up the pace, heading quickly in the direction of the house.

Wilt moved through the halls, heading for his room. He had never remembered being this angry before, but it felt justified. He could barely go anywhere, after all, without someone somewhere needing some help. The next person who asks me for help, Wilt thought, will get a real earful. Either I get some of the things I want, or I'm not lifting a finger. Even as he thought this, part of him felt guilty for the selfish thoughts, but it was outweighed by his anger.

"Wilt!" came a voice behind him. He tensed up and turned around; the voice had come from Eurotrish, a friend staying at the house that was an amalgam of various European designs. She was smiling as she declared in her usual generic European accent, "Thank goodness I a-found you! I was a-saying, 'Where could a-Wilt be?' because I needed somebody to a-help with something..."

"Trish..." Wilt started, annoyed.

Trish didn't seem to notice Wilt's objection and continued, "...and I a-thought, 'Who better to a-help with it than Wilt, because he a-help everybody!' So I a-search and a-search, but you are a-nowhere to be found, and my heart, she fills with a-despair..."

"Trish...!" Wilt said more forcefully.

"...but now I a-find you!" Trish continued, oblivious. "You see... I need to a-fold my laundry, and it needs to be a-folded carefully because they are linens from a-France and are a-so delicate. I know from a-many times before that you do it a-right, so I a-go looking for Wilt, and..."

"Trish!" Wilt shouted, and she finally stopped her rambling, shocked. Wilt continued forcefully, "Yes, I have helped you with it before, but I've had enough, all right? Maybe I have another job I need to do. Maybe I'm on my way to do something else. Did you ever think of that? You're fully capable of doing it yourself, you know; you don't need to have my help!"

"But..." Trish managed to say, "But I... but you..."

"And another thing," Wilt said with growing frustration, "when have you ever helped me with my laundry? I don't have a lot of it, just a lot of socks really. But it takes a long time to match them up and put them away. But have you ever helped me do it? Have you ever even offered to help me do it? Not... even... once! And yet, you expect me to just drop whatever I'm doing and prance on over to help you with whatever little thing you don't feel like doing yourself? Well, I'm s--... wait, no, I'm not sorry! Do it yourself!"

Trish looked teary-eyed, and she said, "S-so... y-you are a-saying..."

"Let me make my answer crystal clear," Wilt told her. He leaned over and yelled at the top of his lungs, "NO!"

There was a stretch of silence as Wilt's shout seemed to echo in the air for a moment. Trish's lips wavered as tears filled her eyes, and she started crying loudly. Wilt's look of frustration slowly changed to concern, and then to guilt. He spoke more softly as he said, "Trish... I... look, I-I didn't mean..." She continued crying, and he said, "All right, all right... if it means that much, I'll stop by in a few minutes and..."

In an instant, it was like her personality just switched; Trish stopped crying and hugged Wilt's leg tightly, "Oh a-thank you! I knew I could a-count on you!" She happily skipped off down the hall, her wooden shoes clopping on the ground as she disappeared around the corner in the direction of her room.

Wilt sighed, feeling embarrassed at himself... not for the way he yelled at Eurotrish, but because he gave in. He was too weak to stand up for himself and had caved in to what was obviously--at least, in retrospect--an insincere emotional outburst with the sole purpose of swaying him to help, with no regards to his own feelings. At first, he had felt bad for making her cry, but now he no longer did, because she wouldn't feel bad about toying with his emotions like that.

Well, now it was all said and done; he would have to go and help her with her mindless task. He had a few minutes and considered returning to his room as he originally intended, but changed is mind and quickly jogged off in the opposite direction, towards Rainbow's room.

"All right," Rainbow said, "come in."

Wilt came into the room, closing the door behind him. "It happened again," Wilt told him. "I tried to stand up for myself, but fell apart."

"I thought someone might try that again," Rainbow asked, beckoning Wilt closer so that he could pick him up again. He was lifted into the air as he asked, "Who was it?"

"Eurotrish," Wilt said. "I don't think you've met her."

"But she treats you like that a lot?" he asked, becoming a strong shade of orange. "How did that make you feel?"

"Angry," Wilt said, frowning. "I do so much for people like her, and they do nothing for me. And she does it all the time! Just like the other friends here..."

Rainbow looked upset as well, some red beginning to mix in with his orange. "Believe me, I know. I've seen people like that before. Kevin's dad was like that, before I helped change that. That's the thing: sometimes you can change the person, but if you can't, then you can only change yourself. Can Eurotrish be changed?"

"I don't... I don't think so..." Wilt said. "She's been like that for a long time..." He was so angry at this that it began to turn into hatred; the image of Trish's mocking, thankless face seemed to hover in front of him, and he wanted to get rid of it. He didn't want to have to see her face again, even if he had to do something like... Shutting his eyes, Wilt held his head, thinking, No, don't ever think something like that, ever again.

Rainbow tilted his head, noticing his reaction, "What?"

"Nothing..." Wilt lied. "Nothing at all."

With a frown, Rainbow said, "You hate her, don't you? It's written all over your face."

Wilt hesitated, and then admitted, "Yes... yes, I do..." It was an odd feeling to be sure; Wilt couldn't remember when the last time was that he hated anything, but the realizations he had come to today made him understand that he had hated her all along; he just had denied it until now. And how many others were the same way? "What... what do I... do?"

"Nothing," Rainbow told him. "You can hide it, but it will only get worse. If you want it to go away, the person has to change. There's no other way, trust me. Put all of your hatred into getting her to change, and she will. She has to." He hopped out of his hand and said, "You can do it. It's the only way to make the hate go away."

"Fine," Wilt said, narrowing his eyes. "I can do it..." He walked over and opened the door, stepping back out into the hallway and leaving Rainbow behind. The hatred inside him, now that he knew it was there, was like a seething, tangible thing, and he can't believe he had never noticed it before. He was practically seeing red just thinking about her. Well, he told himself, she's gong to change, one way or another, because this has got to stop...

"This is it," Mac said, double-checking he address on the piece of paper. The small suburban house didn't look unusual; in fact, it closely resembled the other buildings on the same block. Still, it seemed to loom menacingly in front of them, and the very idea that a murder took place here made it seem all that much more dangerous. It was also quiet, and dark. It was still barely dusk, and there would be enough light to see inside, though he decided they shouldn't stay any longer than they had to.

Bloo was already scampering up to the porch, examining the doorknob with his magnifying glass. He spoke with an exaggerated Holmes accent, "It would appear to be a way inside. This must be how the killer entered. As I had already deduced."

"Or maybe he used the back door," Mac chided. "It doesn't matter. Let's just do this, okay?" He fished the key out of his pocket and unlocked the door, swinging it open. The light from outside spilled into the living room of the house, illuminating it barely enough to see.

Mac reached out and flipped a set of light switches near the door. When nothing happened, he flipped them off and on a few more times, but everything remained dark. "What's wrong with the lights?"

"It's elementary school, my dear Macson," Bloo told him, gripping his bubble pipe. "Obviously, the killer was a energy vampire and drained all of the electricity out of the house."

Mac glared at him, "That's ridiculous. I'll bet the killer did cut the power to the building though." He pulled his backpack off and dug around in it until he found a small penlight, switching it on and returning the backpack to his back. He shined the light into the house and took a deep breath, stepping further inside.

It was pretty messy in the living room; lamps were knocked over, books and things were scattered around on the ground, and there was even a dent in the wall near the kitchen. Shining the light around, he saw part of a police outline on the ground near the couch, where the killer had shot himself. Grimly, Mac gave the couch a wide berth, walking around it and not shining his light anywhere near it to avoid seeing something he didn't want to see; even though the body had been moved, there would no doubt be blood in that area.

Bloo was close behind him, and the scariness of the place was starting to get to him as well. He was clutching his magnifying glass in both hands and had ceased the Holmes accent. He muttered, "So w-what are we looking for again?"

"Kevin's room," Mac said. "It's probably upstairs." He shined the light around until he found a stairway near the back. As he walked towards it, he suddenly realized he was standing right next to the door to the kitchen. He froze in fear, not turning to look, as he knew that the place was probably covered in blood; taking a shaky breath, he started towards the stairs again...

"Mac!" Bloo cried out, causing Mac to jump in the air in fright; he turned around to glare at Bloo, but he saw that he was rooting under a chair near the couch bookcase. He pulled out a book that had undoubtedly slid underneath, and held it up, "Look!"

Mac shined his light on it; the cover was white, and had a smiling picture of a kid drawn in crayon, with a green drawing of Rainbow on his shoulder. Written underneath it were the names 'Kevin' and 'Rainbow'. "Good!" Mac told him. "Looks like Kevin kept some drawings. Put it in my backpack, will you?"

Nodding, Bloo opened up Mac's backpack and crammed the book into it. "Our first real clue!" Bloo said. "Good thing you've got a friend with such great eyes, eh?"

"Sure," Mac admitted. "Now... upstairs, then. Whatever we can find like this in Kevin's room will help..." The two of them headed for the stairs, shining the light in front of them...

Wilt climbed the steps up towards the floor with Eurotrish's room. He was still so angry he couldn't see straight; Trish had crossed the line, and she had to apologize for her terrible behavior. It was an effort just to consider going up to see her, because right now, his hatred was unfathomable, especially for him. It was like nothing he had ever even allowed himself to experience before. There were times he had been outraged in the past, but never hateful.

When he reached the top of the steps, he saw Eurotrish coming through the door into the stairwell. The sight of her caused his rage to well up again, but Trish didn't seem to notice, "There a-you are! I've been a-waiting, but you never a-show up! I start to think, 'Maybe Wilt doesn't a-like you anymore.' But now, I see you and I'm a-happy again! Now we can a-get to folding the laundry, and..."

"Trish..." Wilt said through his teeth, cutting her off, "Listen very carefully." Trish stopped talking to listen as he continued, "I'm not going to help you anymore. Not now, not ever. You and I, we've had it. We're done. Understand?"

Trish began crying again, and Wilt shut his eyes against it. She bawled, "Oh Wilt, h-how can you be so a-mean to me?"

"Mean?!" Wilt said, his anger rising even more. "Just listen to yourself! You expect me to just do everything for you at the drop of a hat!"

"Well, of a-course I do," Trish exclaimed, her insincere tears drying up rather quickly. "You're a-Wilt, no? That's a-what you do!"

Her words stung Wilt hard. His voice became quiet, "So that's what you think of me. All this time."

"That's a-right," Trish said angrily. "If you won't a-help me, then fine... I'm a-going to have a talk a-with Mr. Herriman." She inclined her head and brushed past him, starting to walk down the steps.

In that moment, Wilt's hatred boiled to a maximum now seeing exactly what Trish thought of him and realized that she didn't care about him or his feelings one iota. All she cared about was herself. The hate he felt for her gripped his very soul, and without further thought, he growled, "Grrraaahh!" and shoved her hard against her back. With a yelp, Trish toppled forward and fell down the stairwell, striking her head against the steps with a loud krakk before continuing her tumble. Wilt gasped in sudden realization of what he just did, and covered his mouth in horror as she bounced off step after step before finally collapsing onto a landing in a heap. She lay still; it was all too clear even from a distance that she wasn't just knocked out; her neck was twisted at too sharp an angle.

Panic swept over Wilt, and he didn't know what to do. He felt sick to his stomach as the full weight of his actions began to sink in. Terrified at himself, he fled the scene quickly... he needed help, and didn't know where to turn, except to the only one he felt he could trust...

To be continued…