Vlad was still sitting at the kitchen table when Danny left for his bedroom. Between his shoulder and his ear his cellphone was held, one hand on the mouse of laptop on the table in front of him and the other hand clutching a pen as he scrawled the information one of the customer service agents at the airport he was speaking with told him. Like most people in her position, Vlad mused as he listened to her speak, her tone of voice clearly projected her discontentment for her job, which he found understandable. He realized how utterly dull it would be to sit behind a desk all day and listen helplessly to the stupid questions and angry complaints of travelers who used the airport. He was sure this woman was already tired of him, because he had done both ask stupid questions—or perhaps they had become stupid to her after having to answer them for the thousandth time—and complain angrily, and they were not fifteen minutes into the call.
"What do you mean, 'there aren't any seats available on Flight 136 to Wisconsin'?" Vlad snapped impatiently, the hand he had been using to record, only legibly enough for him to read, the times and dates of flights to Wisconsin stiffening abruptly. "There has to be somewhere for us to sit."
No, the woman explained, unless someone canceled or did not claim their seats, just as he had done, she reminded him with gleeful sarcasm, there were no available seats. The woman monotonously recited the information of another flight, however, that would be on a later date.
"Are you suggesting we wait another two weeks simply to take one of your mediocre flights, when, may I remind you, there are several other airports with management that I'm sure would be happy to accommodate for us? Would you like my business or not?"
Of course, sir, she responded with the same sarcastic disinterest as before, but Flight 136 to Wisconsin was full, and there wasn't anything she could do about it. She suggested an earlier flight, Flight 133 to Wisconsin, which had two empty seats but would be departing the next day.
"No, we will not be able to leave tomorrow," Vlad said, and sighed petulantly.
But you had scheduled your original flight for today, she interjected.
"Something has come up, ma'am, and the earliest we will be able to leave is Monday morning, preferably on Flight 136 to Wisconsin," Vlad sneered.
Something came up, she mumbled, sounding this time genuinely curious. She had learned that when persons gave such specific requests, or in this case, demands regarding flights, it usually indicated some sort of serious tragedy which was needed to be reached. She had reviewed the flight records of an identical airport in Wisconsin and had noticed that Vlad Masters had requested tickets with no notice at all and had bought them the same day he boarded the flight to Amity Park, which was perhaps the strongest indicator that there was some tragedy he was attending to. This new development only reinforced this belief, and she knew that, like with other customers in the same situation, if she prodded enough, she would be presented with a good synopsis of the tragic events which plagued that person's life. This, she decided, was the most interesting part of her job.
"Yes," Vlad said, "and because I'm sure your life is very dull and you've no other source of excitement, I'll tell you what—there is a funeral on Sunday that we must attend." His voice rang out with sudden moroseness.
Vlad Masters had not been aware of the funeral until he had received the call from Danny's social worker informing him so before he had rung the customer service agent. Apparently, the mayor of Amity Park had wanted to hold a memorial service for the Fenton's and the children of the Manson's and the Foley's. Vlad saw no kindness in the gesture. He believed it was the mayor's way of preserving his political and social status; to indicate to the public that the lives lost in the explosion would not be forgotten, or rather, to ensure his own decency was not forgotten. But Vlad supposed the true motives of the funeral did not matter—he thought it would be excellent closure for Daniel and perhaps for himself as well. To his knowledge, Daniel did not know about the funeral, but he did not think he would need to ask him if he would go. He was almost certain Daniel would want to be present at his own family's funeral. How could he not?
But of course, staying for the funeral would complicate their plans to leave Amity Park. Of course he wanted Daniel to be able to stay in his home town, Amity Park, long enough to have closure, but he did not want Daniel to stay too long. Having closure would be good for him, going to the memorial service would be good for him, but anything after that would be something along the lines of obsession. He wanted Daniel to forget and move on, not to dwell because he was trapped within walking distance of where the accident took place and didn't have any control over when he left. This was why they needed to get on Flight 136. They could not leave before the funeral, but they could not stay in Amity Park for another nine days afterward.
The woman professed false sympathies. She asked, with uncontained anticipation, because she felt the story was reaching its climax, the long-awaited and anticipated portion that kept you on the edge of your seat, whose funeral it was he would be attending. But, she was only to be shot down, a rare occurrence, for she knew people with problems needed to unload them on someone, and it was best if that person was not visible to their eye so they did not have to see the reprimanding looks of disappointment and disdain on the faces of those they knew and were close to who heard their woes, and that person she had become.
"That isn't any of your business, is it? Now do your job and find two seats on Flight 136 to Wisconsin for my boy and I."
The moment he uttered the words, he felt unable to speak. In fact, he felt unable to breathe. His eyes were wide and his pupils were small, like the head of a pin. He gasped with uncompromised astonishment at his own voice. He had just called Daniel his boy. Daniel Fenton, Danny Phantom, who he had sworn he'd hated and vowed to kill. This boy, this teenager, who had aggravated him and insulted him to no end, who had hurt him and defied him more times than he could count, he had just called his boy. He had just called Danny Phantom his boy.
The customer service agent was saying something, but he only vaguely heard her. She said that if someone canceled their arrangements on Flight 136 to Wisconsin and two seats became available, she would reserve them for him and his boy. If not, she offered, would he like her to reserve two seats on the later flight, which was scheduled for two Tuesdays from yesterday?
"And…and you're sure you've got nothing open Flight 136? We won't be able to leave Amity Park any earlier than Sunday night, but I don't want to leave any later than Tuesday. Are you sure there isn't anything you can do?"
Again, she sympathized falsely and said that she didn't think she could do anything to get them on Flight 136 unless someone canceled.
"And…there isn't an earlier flight to Wisconsin than two Tuesdays from yesterday?"
She told him there was not, but would he like her to reserve two seats on that flight if there were no cancellations on Flight 136?
"I…I suppose," Vlad spoke slowly into the phone. "The nicest seating you have. In first class, if possible."
Of course, she said, and thanked him. She agreed to reserve him the seats if there were any cancellations on Flight 136, and said that if there were not they would be on Flight 266 to Wisconsin on Tuesday, and then hung up.
Slowly and darkly, racked with confusion and that unchanging helplessness, he wrote down the information. Then, he stood and started for the stairs.
Daniel had gone up to his bedroom without much disagreement after Vlad had lightly suggested he should pack his clothes and his favorite possessions. Now, Vlad decided, he would tell him to unpack.
As he walked up the stairs, he thought about calling Daniel his boy. It was the first time he would feel the sickening sense of foreboding that perhaps bringing Daniel to live with him wasn't such a good idea after all.