Chapter 5: Companions

Laurent sat on Quillish's shoulders as they went through town. Night was slowly falling and the Christmas lights draped from shop rooftops were already beginning to glow. The holiday had passed just recently, but the townspeople were hesitant to take down the decorations. The bright, colorful lights brought a sense of warmth to the cold, dreary winter… a sense of warmth the people didn't want to lose just yet.

The reason for the trip to town was so that Quillish and Laurent could familiarize themselves with the area. As Quillish hadn't been there in years, many things had changed. There were far more shops around than he remembered, and many of the ones he did remember were no longer there. He found himself being turned around a lot, mostly because he could no longer find a specific landmark that had been there before. It was a fun adventure, though. He especially liked hearing Laurent's gasps of appreciation at every new spectacle.

As they neared town square, church bells began to toll.

Quillish felt Laurent shift slightly, "Do you hear that?" Laurent asked, "The bells?"

"Yes," Quillish responded as he continued to walk, "They're lovely, aren't they?"

Laurent was silent as he listened. The peals were loud and intricate; they reverberated sharply off the walls of the buildings, but were softened by the presence of the snow. It was so beautiful, so otherworldly.

As the last chime faded into nothingness, Laurent let out a sigh.

"I heard bells like that a long time ago," Laurent said quietly, "before I lived with the Clark Sisters."

"You were very young then," observed Quillish.

"Yeah..." Laurent said. He paused in thought, listening as the snow crunched under Quillish's boots. "Y'know, I remember hearing bells like that the day I met you, too."

"Really?" asked Quillish.

"Yes," Laurent said quietly, "They sound pretty, don't they?"

"They do indeed."

"This is no fun…" Alice whined at Quillish a week later, "Laurent avoids me like the plague."

"He's not a very social boy, no," Quillish responded, "But don't worry, we'll be out of your hair soon. Then, you won't have to worry about being snubbed by a five-year-old again."

The legal process was working smoothly, and at a brisk pace. The adoption part was the hard bit, according to most of Quillish's friends in law. Getting in was the trick, but now they were situated; they just had to pull the right strings.

As time went on, Laurent wandered around the house, exploring every nook and cranny he could find. The house was obscenely big, so there were lots of places to see. Multiple bathrooms, a sprawling library, many guest bedrooms, a large kitchen…Though Laurent took a lot of pleasure from looking about, he began to question something.

"Why would one person need such a big house?" Laurent asked one night as Quillish sat in an armchair, casually glancing over that day's paper.

"Would you believe that many people go through their entire lives and never ask that question?" Quillish responded, folding the newspaper he was reading and setting it aside.

Laurent frowned, "Well, then… why did you need a big house?" he asked.

"Me?" Quillish asked. He looked up for a few seconds, "I suppose I don't. I never actually use this house…so I never really needed it."

The little boy blinked, "Really? Did you just think that you needed it?"

"There's a difference between a want and a need," Quillish said, picking up the boy and setting him on his lap, "A want is something that you, well… want… but it's something you can live without. You may want a new toy, for instance, but you can live without it, right?"

The little boy nodded.

"A need is something that you can't do without. A need is something that you have to have or you stop being able to live," Quillish continued, "for example, we need food. We don't need expensive food or especially tasty food… but we do need it. It's very much the same for this house. I really didn't need it when I bought it."

"Why did you want it, then?" Laurent asked.

Quillish laughed, "For the sake of having it, I suppose. People are like that, Laurent. They sometimes want things for no real reason other than wanting them. It's when they get the things that it becomes a bit of a problem."

"Why?"

"When you want things just for the sake of wanting things, once you get them, you don't really feel happy about it. Now that you have it, you've finished. There's nothing left to do but to want something else. I'm sure that's happened to you at least once."

The young boy nodded slowly.

"I sometimes wonder why people care so much about these sorts of things," Quillish said softly, "You can't take it with you, after all."

The little boy was silent for a few seconds, "I see," was what he said. Silence fell upon the room, only broken by the soft crackling of the fire in the fireplace.

"Now," Quillish said, taking the boy in his arms and standing up. "It's time that you got to sleep."

"I'm not tired," Laurent protested.

"An attitude like that won't get you a story," was Quillish's response.

"YOU WHAT?" the shriek from the phone's speaker could be heard clear across the room. Quillish pulled the telephone away from his head, his ear smarting.

He tentatively pulled the phone nearer to his mouth, "I adopted someone?" his response coming out as a question.

"I HEARD YOU THE FIRST TIME!" the person on the other line roared, "I THOUGHT THAT THIS WAS JUST SOMETHING THAT YOU WERE JUST THINKING ABOUT DOING, NOT SOMETHING YOU WOULD ACTUALLY DO!"

"I was looking for a few years," Quillish said, holding the phone a good distance from his head with one hand and massaging the bridge of his nose with the other. Perhaps it was a good thing that Laurent wasn't allowed to go to the UK just yet.

"I THOUGHT THAT WAS JUST AN ECCENTRIC BILLIONARE SORT OF THING! SOMETHING ALL YOU PEOPLE DID YOU GET ATTENTION OR SOMETHING!"

"Jane, please. You'll hurt your vocal cords."

"SO WHAT IF I DO?" the woman screamed. She cussed loudly, "YOU ALREADY HAD PEOPLE TO INHERIT THE FORTUNE! WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST CHOOSE ONE OF THEM?"

"I thought I told you that I wanted to adopt," Quillish sighed.

"I DON'T CARE!"

"Jane, you should really be more optimistic about getting a new nephew," Quillish said weakly.

"I DON'T WANT A NEW NEPHEW!"

"I'm sorry to hear that. You have one."

The woman began cursing loudly over the phone.

"It's been lovely chatting with you, Jane."

"OH, SHUT UP, YOU STUPID GI—" click.

Quillish leaned back into his chair and sighed heavily, covering his face with both of his hands.

"Family troubles?" a voice asked.

Quillish removed his hands from his face and straightened up. Esther looked in from the doorway, seeming rather concerned. Quillish forced a smile.

"Actually, she took the news rather well," he said weakly, "She's the least excitable of the lot, really."

"Honestly, I have no idea how those people could be your family," Esther said, shaking her head, "I could hear that ghastly hag shrieking from down the hall."

Quillish nodded, "You understand why I don't want to give them any money," he sighed, rubbing his temples, "They're all mad." He sighed again and reached for the phone.

"You're not honestly going to call another one!" Esther cried in disbelief.

"I have to. They're my family. They should have been the first to know," Quillish said with a look of chagrin etched on his face.

After almost going deaf in one ear after his siblings were done screaming, Quillish Wammy gave loud, deep sigh. There was a reason why he put this off as long as he did: he knew none of them would take it well. He simply knew it. They all asked the same things, each with various degrees of cursing and shouting: "Are you out of your mind?" and "Why couldn't my child be your heir?"

The answers to those questions were: "No," and "Because your children are just as crazy as you are."

He never liked his immediate family very much. They were all loud, excitable people with strong senses of entitlement. They all married people much like themselves and had children that could pass off as them at an earlier time. Of course, as a result of having so many loud people together, there was always some sort of fight going on between them. The family gatherings weren't complete without a few traded blows. Quillish was amazed that none of his siblings had gotten divorces, for some of their spouses seemed even madder than they were.

I wonder why I was fortunate enough not to end up like them… Quillish thought, covering his face with his hands once more. He frowned, I guess it could be considered a curse not to be like them, too… he amended, After all, if I were like them, I wouldn't find anything wrong with them, and they most certainly wouldn't find as much wrong with me…

Quillish wondered briefly if his family was the reason why he chose Laurent to be his heir. The boy was as far from them as someone could get. He was logical, quiet and calm as opposed to mad, loud and excited. The boy was his family far more than his blood relatives ever were.

It was just then that Laurent wandered into the room. "Hi," he said.

Quillish gave a soft smile, removing his hands from his face, "Hello."

Laurent walked up to his adoptive father and smiled at him. "Do you want to play checkers?" he asked hopefully.

"I would love to," Quillish said, getting up from his seat.

It didn't matter how crazy his family was, Quillish decided. As far as he was concerned, they weren't really his family anyway.

A/N: I'd like to thank you all for your continuing support of this story.