He looked out toward the ship, his home being torn apart. The water would probably be the safest place to run, he reasoned. He could jump in, and swim under the ship, and with any luck he'd drown.
"Woody," Zack said with even more concern than before. This had to be the tenth time he had said his name, and finally his entraced friend looked up at him.
Zack studied his facial expression. It bore vague similarities to an expression he had once seen on Cody's face, and undoubtedly mirrored. The first time they had been caught cheating on a Biology exam in middle school. Zack had convinced Cody to let him copy a couple of his answers, and the teacher swooped in out of nowhere, pulling the pencils from both of their hands.
Even Zack had been caught off guard, but Cody was in tears. Both were sent to the principals office. A vivid recollection of his twin shaking in fear was still fresh in his mind after all these years.
They were barely in sixth grade at the time, but already Cody had worried about college. Even after the principal had assured him that it wouldn't be on his permanent record, Cody was inconsolible. He didn't want to face his mother or his teacher.
Zack hadn't cared about any of that very much. He was more disappointed about not getting away with it, and wondered what his punishment would envolve.
Fear? Could that be what Woody was experiencing? But that didn't make much sense, the old lady was gone. Unless... Could Woody be afraid of facing him? He wasn't even entirely sure what he had just witnessed! This whole situation was over his head!
Woody's eyes darted back and forth between him, and the ship. Zack knew he had to say something, especially when he heard his friend mumble incoherently about ratman and having the power to become invisible.
"Woody," he said again standing directly in front of him, and placing a reassuring hand on his forearm. "Listen to me man. How about we bring some of this to the car, and grab some lunch. Free food, remember?"
"You..." Woody stuttered, seeming to need a moment to collect his thoughts. "You're not..." he tried to continue, but stopped, looking down at the papers and envelope in his hands, shuffling them uncomfortably. "Well, no, because everything is... And..."
"Woody," he said to be sure he still had his attention. "I don't know what's going on, and I won't say a word about it if that's what you want, alright?" Zack told him seriously. Relief washed over Woody's face as he nodded slowly. Zack was just glad to have apparently chosen the right words to say, but he had a feeling that whatever was going on wasn't going to simply disappear. If anything, he had merely bought himself more time.
More time for what? He wasn't sure about that either, but he forced himself to keep in mind that he may very well be preventing Woody's suicide.
Zack opened the trunk of his fathers car and piled their suitcases inside. "Uh Zack, shouldn't you ask your parents first?"
"Nah," he replied. "You're coming with us to see the Yankees anyway, right? So they'll be expecting you."
"Not in Boston," he replied. "Wait a second, you were serious about that Yankees game?"
"Yep, my dad got tickets," Zack replied. "And once we get inside I'll ask mom about Boston. Don't worry, she'll be cool with it."
Before Zack could close up the car, Woody opened his duffle and pulled out an old green backpack. He watched as Woody shoved everything the old woman had given him inside, and tossed it over his shoulder. "Ready," Woody announced.
Zack smiled. "Let's eat," he slammed the trunk closed, and followed Woody toward the restaurant.
Finally, Woody was able to read the sign. "Blueport Seafood?" Woody asked. Zack shrugged. "Reminds me a little of green eggs and ham."
"Over here," Carey called out to them. They had taken longer than she had expected, but she was glad to see them laughimng. Woody sat down next to Cody, while Zack sat across from him next to his father.
"What took you so long?" Cody asked Zack skeptically.
"Addison," Zack replied, as if her very name explained everything.
Cody nodded apparently accepting his explantion, and shoved over a plate of fries. "Help yourself, I'm finished."
"They're not green," Zack pointed out picking up a fry, and plopping it into his mouth.
Woody laughed. Grabbing a handful he stuffed several into his mouth. "You sure you don't want anymore Cody?" He asked with his mouth full.
"Yeah," he replied. "I'm just going to call Bailey again."
"You just called her not five minutes ago," Kurt said.
"Honey, she couldn't possibly have landed yet." Carey added.
"Oh, I know, it's just that we've been developing proofs for a theorem we're creating. I think I have the final proof we need! It's... It's hard to explain, but I have to leave her a message and document the time." Cody fled from the table with his cell phone.
"Ok then," Zack said reaching across the table to grab Cody's neatly folded napkin. Shaking it opened revealed a ridiculous list of... Well, something mathematical that he couldn't begin to comprehend. "Damn Yale admissions," he said under his breath, but his father heard him.
"Watch your language there," Kurt told him.
"Seriously? What is all this?" Zack asked holding it up.
"Counting?" Woody asked. "I don't think he got the order right."
"Guys, guys," Carey said grabbing the napkin, and folding it back in front of Cody's plate.
"Alright, we have fish sticks and fries left at the table," she gestured. "I'll go grab a couple of hotdogs, and two sodas. Sound good?"
"Yeah, sounds great," Zack replied. "I'm starved."
"Me too, thanks!" Woody replied.
"Be right back," Carey told them as she stood from the table to rejoin the line. She was glad to see there were only a few people ahead of her.
Cody sat back down moments later. "Who touched my napkin?" Zack laughed. "It was you, wasn't it?" He pointed at his twin.
"You know, I've been counting since the second grade," Woody told him, pointing at the numbers on the napkin. "That's not right."
"Your not right," Cody said with a sigh. "It's a miracle you even made it to the second grade."
"Hurtful," Woody whined, but his smile returned quickly as their conversation continued.
Zack chose that moment to get up and join his mother in line. "Hey Zack, did you guys need something else?"
"Yep, I need you to invite Woody to live with us in Boston." He replied.
"I was uh," she looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Referring to food," she gestured to the menu above the counter.
"I know," he replied. "But I was talking about Woody and Boston, and him living with us."
"Zack," she droned out.
"Mom, wait," he said quietly. "You said your working at a different hotel now, right? A bigger one in south Boston or something?
"I was given the opportunity to transfer to the new Tipton hotel a couple of months ago," she admitted. "But Zack..."
"And you took the job, right?" He asked, but continued before she could respond. "And the suites are larger? You said you were getting a raise, and we'd each get our own rooms if we needed them?"
"I thought you said you never got the email I sent about my new job," she said slowly. She shook her head. Cody had called to congratulate her right away, but Zack had conveniently forgotten until just now.
"Oh," Zack thought a moment. "I guess I did get that one. So there's room for him, right?"
"Zack," she said slowly. "You and Cody are adults now, and with the housing market the way it is, I know it will be difficult for you both. That's why I've worked very hard to make sure you, your brother and I would all have our own private spaces. I want you to understand that I've worked hard for this Zack. So that you and your brother will always have your own bedroom, a place to call home for as long as you need."
Zack gave his mother a brief hug. "He could bunk with Cody," Zack suggesed. "They've been roommates for years. Look at em over there, they miss each other already." He gestured to the table.
"Zack," she replied more sternly.
"He could bunk with me then," he replied just as easily. "And I'll get a job..."
"You'd give up your own room?" Carey asked. Zack nodded. "You better get a job," she whispered with a smile.
"He can come?" Zack asked. Carey nodded. "Thanks mom," he said with a smile, turning toward the table.
"Try," she said putting an hand on his shoulder. He looked back at her. "Try to keep your room a little clean."
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AN: I'm not sure how other writers manage to receive so many reviews, but I've decided that I will be continuing this piece with or without further reviews.
Again, I apologize if the quality is poor, or my updates are too sporadic. I write to entertain myself during the few ours I am awake.