November 9, 2001
"Milk, eggs, chicken…" Amy Matthews mused to herself as she sat at the kitchen table. She held the list up to the light and sighed, marveling at the meager list of provisions. It was both a gift and a curse to have Cory and Eric out of the house. It had been almost six months since her oldest sons had graced its halls. Morgan and Josh offered solace to the aging mother, but without Cory and Eric in the house, she would never feel quite the same. She was outwardly proud of Cory, her bookish son acquiring a prestigious position as an accountant with dozens of museums and law firms in Philadelphia, but she couldn't exactly face her feelings about her eldest son. A few days after Cory and Topanga had announced that they were staying in Philadelphia, Eric called his old homestead late one night from the apartment he still shared with Jack.
"Mom," he had said with an eerie nonchalance, "I'm hitting the train to New York tonight. Tell Dad and the rest that I love them, ok?"
"Alright, I suppose," she had replied numbly, in shock that her son had consciously made such an important decision of his own accord, "please be careful!" she added, but the line had gone dead in the middle of 'be.' She had called Allen into the kitchen and told him what had happened. Allen had proposed that they try to go and say goodbye, but they decided against it. It was too late for that. It was too late for a lot of things. Both parents had felt that could have done more, but time had run out.
The next day, Jack had called the Matthews house in panic, wondering were Eric had gone off to. Eric had not given any indication to his long time roommate that he was leaving and Amy had to be the one to relay the news. Eric had cleaned out his entire room while Jack and Rachel were on a date. Frankly, after the unsettling phone call she had begun to worry. What in the world does Eric want to do in New York? How would he survive out there? She had heard from him every two or three weeks these past six months and every time he called it was short and direct. He hadn't even told his mother where he was or what he was doing. Every menacing thought that could possibly invade her psyche consumed her days. A little, innocent (dumb) lamb with Eric's trademark sense of child-like wonder in the midst of the wolves of New York could meet all sorts of tragic ends. People died in New York by the thousands every year and Eric could easily be one of them. The harsh city did not take kindly to the weak and as much as Amy hated to admit it, Eric was weak. A knock on the door jarred her out of her thoughts. She stuffed the lack luster list into her purse and scampered to the door. What met her on the other side literally took her breath away.
The first thing that Amy noticed was that Eric had lost about 25 pounds, easy. His once thick face and frame had melted away, his flannel plaid shirt and black leather jacket hanging on his frame, his eyes hidden by aviator style sunglasses. He swiftly removed them and tucked them in his collar revealing his big brown eyes that were slightly sunken in their sockets. His hair, short and styled in the last days before his departure, had grown out once more, but hung around his face in stringy strands. As Eric was standing there, a mere two feet away from her, she could smell the unmistakable scent of his body odor.
"So I suppose you want a roof over your head again," Amy said, the bitterness in her tone betraying her heart.
Eric smiled sadly. "Just for a couple weeks. I promise, Mom," he pleaded, suitcase in hand. "I just need some time to figure things out. New York didn't prove to be that…great." There was a solemn, defeated tone in her son's voice, a component she never heard unless he was sincerely out of options. She looked at him, still bewildered that he was standing before her. "I know you must be disappointed in me, but what else is new right?"
A long pause ensued. Amy didn't really know what to say. She had rehearsed so many scenarios in her head, but this was never one of them and even if it was, her brain simply wouldn't work properly. Eric's body visibly tensed in the slightest way only a mother can sense. "I'm serious, Mom. I've tried everything and I've run out of money. I have nowhere to go. I'll work at dad's store until I can…uh" His face comically scrunched in thought and his eyes conveyed a desperate longing to be in a familiar setting. He opened his mouth to say something but decided against it and hung his head, letting out a sigh before meeting Amy's eyes once more.
"Look for a steady job and move out for good?" Amy finished, slightly shaking her head. Sometimes it really pained her to have a son that was so incredibly dense, especially since he had not always been that way. In fact, Eric was quite bright as a child, always excelling faster than the rest of his peers to the delightful surprise of both his teachers and his parents. His quick wit was unparalleled, but as the years passed, Eric seemed to become more and more dull, especially during his high school years. During those times, she would sometimes lay awake as the rest of her family slumbered and resist the burning urge to go into Eric and Cory's room, slap Eric across the face and ask him one simple question:
What went wrong here with you? What the hell happened to my little boy?
"I'll even drive Josh and Morgan around and I'll sleep in Josh's room on a cot or something," Eric continued to persuade his mother, a devious smile gracing his features now. "I'll even help dad with the yard and junk." He knew she couldn't resist his puppy dog eyes.
Amy chuckled. The dull, goofy Eric was back. He obviously didn't realize that it was about 30 degrees outside already, and soon there would be no yard to be groomed. Amy threw her head back in exasperation, knowing somehow that she had been had.
"I'll have to talk it over with your father, although I doubt he'll say no," she extended her arm in welcome to her son. "You can use the air mattress in Josh's room for the time being." Eric smiled warmly in relief, dropped his battered suitcase and encased his mother into a hug. Amy inwardly cringed and could now fully tell that he had not showered in a few days, imagining those imaginary cartoon stink lines that would come off of countless characters.
"First, you need a bath. I'll get you set up upstairs," she gently pushed him away. "What would you like for dinner?"
"Anything's fine with me. I'm a guest in this house," Eric raised his free hand to give the standard Boy Scout salute. "I'm only temporary. Scout's honor." He began to make his way upstairs, lugging his suitcase through the kitchen and to his old abode.
"But honey!" Amy yelled after him following him through the kitchen and to the stairs, "you were never in the Boy Scouts!"
"It still stands, compadre!" Eric replied, the old familiar inflection in his voice again. He bounced up the staircase and was gone.
Amy shook her head in disbelief, a smile threatening to envelope her face but only making itself known through a minute flicker at the corner of her lips. She had never been more relieved in all of her life. But before she could relish the feeling she heard a quick knock at the kitchen door. Upon opening it, she saw that it was their beloved family friend, Mr. Feeny.
"Hello there," the friendly man said, a vibrant grin on his face. "Did you by any chance still have the silver I let you borrow a few months ago? I hate to ask you with such short notice, but-"
"Of course, George," Amy replied, patting him on the shoulder. "I'm sorry for the delay, I should have given them back to you sooner. Come on in and I'll fetch it for you." She walked to the cabinets and opened one, searching for the borrowed eating utensils.
"What's the occasion, a nice night with the dean? Amy poked her head out from behind the pine door with a suggestive smirk.
"No, no," Mr. Feeny said with a laugh, "I wish! The dean is actually attending a President's leadership summit in Boston. The dean's niece, Alexandra is coming to stay at the Feeny house for a week or so while she moves into an apartment. She just graduated from a college and I want her first night in the Feeny home to be celebratory." George smiled. "She's a delightful, bright young girl. She turned 23 this spring. She wants to be Medical Doctor, just like her uncle.
"That sounds so nice to have a successful 23 year old instead of one that's still living here on the lamb," Amy remarked with a sigh. George looked at Amy with question. "Eric's back," Amy stated, answering Mr. Feeny mental query. They looked at each other for a moment, a silent lament passing in between them.
Poor Eric. Never going to make it out there. No matter how hard we try…
"So," Amy said, louder than she had intended, as if trying to drown out their inner disappointment. "What are you cooking for her?"
"Umm…." his face went slightly pale. "You know, I haven't really thought of anything yet. I was so busy getting her room ready and cleaning the house that I forgot to go to the supermarket." He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and swiped his damp forehead. "I have about three hours to whip something up."
"George, you are such a man," Amy stated with a friendly scoff, placing the mahogany box containing the silver onto the counter. "Tell you what, how about I cook for you two also and we just come over to your nice clean house for dinner. I was planning on making something special to make Eric feel more at home. Plus, it's sort of silly for you to go through such trouble for just the two of you. I'd like to meet this Alexandra anyways. Since she's a part of your family, I consider her a part of our family as well."
"That sounds splendid Amy! Are you sure?" George was more than happy with his turn of events. Without the Lila, the only connection between himself and Alexandra, he was a bit worried that their dinner would be slightly awkward. She hadn't even attended the wedding for very long. She had come to the reception for fifteen minutes and then had gracefully departed. From what he understood, though Lila's stories, Alexandra was that kind of woman, always dropping in and then leaving to live her busy life.
"I'm sure Alexandra would feel the same way too. Women's code." Amy retorted with a wink. "Plus, I'd like to cook something substantial for a change. I'll just bring the silverware then. How does seven thirty sound to you?"
"That would be just fine, my dear just like the good ol' days when Cory and Eric were knee-high and Morgan wasn't even thought about," Mr. Feeny replied, sighing in relief. "She should be there by then." His eyes glittered with appreciation. "I can't thank you enough Amy, really,"
Amy placed the mahogany box that contained the well-used silver she had borrowed for Alan's recent birthday back into the cabinet. Eric had been the only family member not in attendance, much to the chagrin of the entire family. Even Joshua had asked where his brother was and it pained Amy to not be able to answer such a simple question about someone who meant so much to him.
"Anytime, George. Oh! Are you and Lila still coming over here for Thanksgiving even though there's a new guest?"
The Feeny's had decided last month to have Thanksgiving dinner over at the Matthew's this year. Dean Bolander had no family other than Alexandra, whose mother had died when she was only six and her sister, Catrina, had flown the coop, never to contact the Bolander family again. She had said that she would not make it due to plans with her new fiancé, but that had changed with the big move to Philadelphia. Although Amy did not foresee an extra guest, but she lived proudly by the old mantra, 'the more the merrier.'
"If you'd have us," George replied. "I didn't know she was coming until yesterday myself, it was a spur of the moment thing, so to say. She had to call me from the summit to tell me. Apparently, she's taking a semester off before going to medical school in Philadelphia and made these plans rathar quickly. Doesn't bother me much. I'm always happy to have company and I'm sure Lila is thrilled that her granddaughter has decided to move to the city of brotherly love for good."
"That's great! I'm so excited!" Amy clapped her hands in anticipation. "It's going to be a nice, old-fashioned get together!"
"I'm practically shivering with expectation too darling! My stomach is growling already" Mr. Feeny replied, taking his leave.
Amy smiled to herself as she pulled he list out of her purse. A wave of thrill coursed through her body. She was going to have to add a few things, for her shopping list would be full tonight.
The sink was full of defrosting rib-eye steaks and Amy was beginning to sauté vegetables when Alan entered the kitchen, a perplexed look on his face. He gestured his arm toward the front door. "Are my eyes playing tricks on me, or is that Eric's bucket of bolts outside?"
"Your eyes are not playing tricks on you, sweet husband of mine. He's here," Amy replied her eyes never leaving her culinary work although she could feel her husband's eyebrows furrow in question.
"What the hell is he doing here? Isn't he supposed to be in New York or something?" Anger and hurt laced his voice.
"It didn't agree with him and he asked if he could bunk here for a few weeks." Amy finally met his gaze, butterflies fluttering in her belly. "He needs to stay here, Alan. He has no place to go and that's final."
Alan and his son Eric definitely had a love-hate relationship. When Eric was a baby, Alan could not keep his hands off of him. He loved his son as much as a father could love a child, nick-naming him 'the apple of my eye.' However, as Cory and Morgan were born, Eric had felt like he was losing his father's love. More and more of Alan's time were being monopolized away from time usually spent with Eric. While other older siblings would simply make the necessary mental adjustments to accommodate the sudden new additions to the family, Eric had gone in the opposite direction. In a few short years, Eric had gone from a bright happy boy to a quiet, sporadically violent kid. In fact, in sixth grade, he had become so outraged with a student that he stabbed a pencil into the offending student's hand. Whether he had psychotic tendencies from birth and Alan helped to suppress them, or if the arrival of is siblings had everything to do with it could not be determined by the psychiatrist the Matthew's hastily put Eric in contact with after the incident.
That's when Mr. Feeny and the school guidance counselor had suggested Eric be enrolled in a special camp in Maryland. This retreat focused on "at-risk" children whom could be easily turned around. Camp Sequoia, Mr. Feeny had explained would help Eric interact in a healthy manner with his peers and teach him skills such as leadership and teamwork.
"My own nephew goes there and it has worked wonders for him," the wise instructor had assured the concerned parents. After much deliberation, the Matthews had decided to send him for the summer of '92; just in order to see if something like that could work. Eric had loved it so much that he had asked to go back for the summer of '93. After that summer, Eric declared that he was too old to go to the camp and had refused to step on as a counselor, so that was the end of it, and from then on out Eric had grown up, the years distancing himself from his shady childhood past and, to a less beneficial extent, from his brains.
"No, he's not!" Alan yelped, He left this house for good and that's it!" He grabbed his wife by the shoulders, shaking her in beat with his voice for emphasis. "He Needs. To. Let. Go. Of. Us!"
"Alan!" Amy exclaimed in disbelief, shocked at her husband forward commentary and unusually physical behavior. "It's a blessing in disguise. George has the dean's granddaughter coming and forgot to cook, so we're going over there for dinner tonight with the two of them.
Alan sighed. "I think I need to go talk to him,"
"Alan-" Amy began
"That's final," Alan curtly responded, effectively cutting his wife off and retreating up the stairs.
Alan opened the door. Josh had gone to a friend's house for the night, so when he saw Eric laying on his old bed in a tattered mighty ducks jersey and forest green sweatpants, a small part of him tingled with nostalgia. In spite of himself, he missed his son terribly.
Eric, whose eyes had been closed, immediately sensed there was someone in the room and shot his body up into a sitting position with almost comical speed. He met his father's eyes. Alan was shocked by the physical change in Eric, focusing on his tried dull eyes. All anger he had felt towards his son as he mounted the stairs dissolved within him almost instantly, his fatherly instinct raging instead with full force.
"Yeah?" Eric began, no happiness in his voice like with his mother earlier, "you wanna tell me how disappointed you are in me, what a screw-up I am?"
Well, his certainly had decided to lay all of his cards on the table. Alan looked at his eldest son, a mixture of discernment and failure as a father consuming his thoughts. His eyes misted over, relief that his son was at least within reach, but quickly gained his composure. He sat on the bed and placed a firm reassuring hand on Eric's shoulder.
"Eric, I love you very much," Alan cupped Eric's face in his hands "but you get three weeks at the most and then I don't want you sleeping under my roof anymore. Get it together."
"Sure dad," his son replied, nodding in understanding. "Ok."
"Put something nicer on. Mom's making you something really nice for dinner tonight and I think we are going to Mr. Feeny's." With that, he left.
"Something smells good," Eric commented, coming down the stairs into the kitchen, meeting Morgan and his mother in the kitchen. He had ditched the sweatpants at his father's request and put on a suit his mother had saved for him in his closet. With the gray dress pants with a matching gray dress jacket and a black turtleneck, Eric almost looked like his old self, a stark contrast to how he had looked earlier. "We going to Feeny's tonight?"
"Yes," Amy was putting mashed potatoes in a decorative Tupperware container. "George has Lila's granddaughter coming. She's just graduated from the University of Pennsylvania."
"Boring!" Eric exclaimed, "I didn't come home to listen to the dean's ugly relative talk about college!"
"She's 23," Morgan stated, a suggestive inflection in her voice. "Plus, you don't know if she's ugly." Morgan had not taken Eric's departure as hard as the rest of the family. She understood him the most. She also felt like she had no place in the household, so she had a silent rapport with him.
Eric put his arm around his little sister. "If she's that smart, she's U-G-L-Y!" he retorted.
"Eric! That's not nice!" Morgan replied. "Being smart doesn't always mean being ugly as well!"
"Believe me weasel," Eric began. Amy smiled at the emergence of Morgan's old nickname. She hadn't heard that particular loving endearment for at least six years.
"With my years of female experience, smart equals monstrous. For example, Jane Goodall, any female scientist who ever lived for that matter…"
Alan rolled his eyes. "Here Casanova," Alan placed the box of silverware in Eric's hands. "Take these across the street in a minute." Alan grabbed the plate of steaks with aluminum foil over them and the Matthews family journeyed across the alley.
As they knocked, Mr. Feeny answered the door, still fumbling with his bowtie that masterfully accompanied his sweater vest and suit pants.
"Hello all! So nice to see you!" Suddenly a look of realization poured over his features. Oh my God, the…." Mr. Feeny said as he turned his back to run comically into the kitchen, both of his hands in the air.
"I think I smell something burning?" Amy whispered to Alan as the downsized family stepped into the side doorway immediately into the dining room. "Oh no!" was also heard, along with the sound of windows opening
"I think you're right. Probably something that was supposed to be sweet." Eric commented.
"Well, dessert is out," Feeny materialized out of the thin sheen of smoke, his glasses comically fogged up.
"If I only had a nickel…" Eric whispered to himself. Amy and Morgan looked at Eric in question to his remark.
"Please," George motioned toward the large rectangular dinning room table that was elegantly covered with a pearly white tablecloth, all of the place settings immaculately set except for the silverware. Amy flushed at the sight of origami cloth napkins neatly placed in crystal glasses. "Sit down." Mr. Feeny took his glasses off and started to clean them.
"I just have Tupperware!" Amy looked at Alan with eyes full of dread.
"Sit, Mom. It's cool. Play it cool, that's my motto." Eric proceeded to take the silverware out of the box quickly.
"Wait! It might be best if I do that…" George replied, arranging the silver perfectly on the tabletop while the Matthews sat in the Feeny dining room, which had obviously not had a makeover since 1984. The family sat around the table.
"So," Amy inquired. "Where's Alexandra?"
"Running a little late. Apparently traffic is very bad tonight due to some fog that approached us from the west this afternoon, but she will be here shortly." George replied, taking his seat beside Morgan, leaving a place for Alexandra to the right of him.
As if on cue, the sound of screeching tires could be heard outside. Mr. Feeny cringed. "My petunia plants…" he commented to himself.
"I'm here, George! Sorry, sorry, sorry!" A feminine voice approached the door.
"There she is," George said, hurrying to the door, opening to reveal the woman behind.
"Hey George! I'm so sorry I'm late!" She gave him a quick hug and removed her red coat, draping it over her arm, striding into the foyer. "Traffic was…" she saw the Matthews at the table. Amy was, of course, smiling at her with an almost creepy enthusiasm.
"Oh!" Alexandra gasped and then chuckled warmly, "You guys startled me. I didn't think you'd have guests, George. I hate to impose!" Alexandra Kincaid was dressed in a black turtleneck and a green plaid skirt accompanied by black stockings and matching black pumps. She graciously smiled and ran her fingers through her dirty blonde hair that reached her shoulders.
"No, you're not imposing. These are the Matthew's. They're friends of the family and Amy was kind enough to cook us dinner for an old fool who can't even boil water." He shrugged in a matter of fact manner. "Please, I saved a seat for you." He pulled a chair back and seated her.
"Thank you so much, Amy," Alexandra felt a bit uncomfortable. She wasn't used to this much company. A heavy workload and heavy school load was not conducive to an active social life.
"Welcome, honey. It's very nice to meet you." Amy smiled.
"Nice to meet you too. Thank you for going through so much trouble, it looks amazing and I'm starved after a long drive." Her green eyes sparkled and the candlelight from the table illuminated her fair face.
"Joke's on you," Morgan slyly remarked, nudging Eric.
"Shut up, wease," he whispered back, kicking her under the table.
Alexandra was introduced to each individual member of the Matthew's family, ending with Eric, who utter a simple, 'hi, how are you?' before proceeding to grab a steak. There was a large, pregnant pause as everyone took the lead for Eric, passing each dish around.
"So," Amy began after five minutes of silence and silverware clanking, wanting to break the ice and elevate the stale atmosphere. "Alexandra, George tells me that you just graduated from college."
"Well, I graduated from Yale this spring with my Master's degree. I still have my doctorate to get and a residency to complete, but I'll get it done as time goes on."
"Wow!" Alan commented, "That's spectacular from 23! Our son, Eric, is 23 and just graduated from Pennbrook." Alan gestured to Eric who was sitting diagonally from Alexandra.
"That's neat," Alexandra affirmed. ". Grandma was a professor there for couple years before she became dean and I would get dropped off at the college after school when I was younger." She looked at Eric. "What did you major in there?
Amy and Alan tensed and Amy reached for Alan's hand under the table. There was simply no telling what would come out of his mouth. He once told a potential employer that he had majored in gynecology.
"Oh, a little of everything. Pennbrook is no Ya-lay, so I'm actually in between jobs right now, but I want to be," Eric looked into the distance not unlike Superman after he rescued a damsel in distress before he whispered dramatically, "a weatherman…"
Amy looked at Alan and rolled her eyes. Morgan giggled as Feeny took out his handkerchief once more.
"Potatoes, George?" Amy hurriedly asked, passing the gooey goodness to her old friend.
"Well, you certainly have the face for it," Alexandra commented, taking a sip of water from one of the house's crystal glasses. She winked at him discreetly.
"See mom and dad!" Eric said proudly with child-like wonder, "thank you very much, Cindy." Eric replied with a equally child-like smile and playfully winked in return.
Mr. Feeny laughed nervously. There was an incredibly awkward silence.
Dinner was uneventful for the rest of the night, filled with small talk about the weather and the going's on of the small neighborhood in which they lived.
"May I use your bathroom, Feeny?" Eric asked as the meal was coming to a close.
"Of course. Just don't leave the water on like last time. I thought I would never get that place dry again.
Alexandra snickered quietly. "I was 16. Let it go," Eric said in a serious tone before disappearing up the stairs. eyes before answering another probing question from Amy.
He closed the door and turned around, taking in the small cubicle of a restroom. Like the kitchen, the bathroom was sorely outdated. Everything including the sink and the toilet itself was a sickly sky blue. If Eric weren't in bigger distress, he would notice it first before anything else.
"Calm down, Eric," he said to himself, hastily turning on the water and dunking his hands in the small puddle splashing the water on his face. "Just a few days and she'll be gone forever. What the fuck is she doing here? You didn't tie up the loose ends this time, Matthews." Eric resisted the urge to punch the mirror and if it was his own personal mirror, he probably would.
"Why can't she just leave me alone? Damn her, I should've taken care of her in New York," he clutched and squeezed the sides of the sink for support, tears threatening to form in his eyes. "Isn't what she did to me enough. God…I wanna just bash her brains in, just bash them right in, just right in, quick and easy, right in…" He looked at himself in the mirror, whispering those few words trying his hardest to mentally compose himself.
"Get your shit together. She has no control over you," Eric assured himself, breathing deeply in and out and then in again.
"Get it together, old man…"
"Thank you so very much for dinner, Amy," George said, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair and hanging it in his foyer.
"It's no problem, George, I really enjoyed myself! Morgan, help me with the dishes," Morgan and her mother began to swiftly clear the table when their new acquaintance intervened.
"You really shouldn't deal with the dishes, Mrs. Matthews, I've got it…" Alexandra stated, beginning to pick dishes up from the opposite end of the table.
"Oh no, I've got it." Amy replied.
"Listen, you did all of the hard work by cooking this awesome meal. The least I can do is wash the dishes," A look of sincerity graced her features. "I washed thousands of dishes in college to help pay for my tuition. It's no big deal, I'd be happy to do it. In fact, I'll bring by the clean dishes tomorrow morning before I start unpacking.
Amy smiled. "Well thank you so much, my dear!" She patted the young girl on the back.
"Well then, I guess we better get going. Morgan has school in the morning," Alan declared making his way to the door. "Are you sure you don't need anything, George? Alexandra?"
"I believe we are fine for tonight, right darling?" George called for Alexandra in the kitchen.
"Oh yes, just fine," Alexandra replied, emerging for the kitchen. "It was so nice to meet all of you and I look forward to seeing you very soon!" She waved to the family, a dish rag already in her hand.
"Very nice to meet you as well," Amy acknowledged, making her way to the door.
"Where's Eric?" Morgan asked scanning the room for him.
"Oh! He's in the bathroom. We'll go ahead and go George. Will you send him over when he gets out?" Amy asked.
"Oh course," he replied, pushing the chairs into the large chestnut dining table. After the sound of the shutting door signified the Matthew's departure, George entered the kitchen.
"Do you want any help?" he asked, rolling up his blue pinstriped sleeve.
"No thanks, I have this. No trouble at all," Alexandra replied, occupying her mind with th task at hand.
George felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, like he had done something wrong. He was so nervous, not wanting to offend his wife's relative in any way. He wondered if he should take her lack of interest in him as a bad sign. Or was he, as Lila had said many times during their new life together, worrying too much over nothing?
Alexandra sensed his worries when her new family member hesitated to speak.
"Thank you very much for letting me stay here in your house, George. This was very kind of you and grandma. You didn't have to do it, so I am eternally grateful."
Relief flushed through his body. Lila was right again, as she almost always was.
"You are most welcome, my dear," George avowed.
"Where did everyone go?" a voice filled the small kitchen. Alexandra and George followed the noise and saw Eric leaning against the doorway, he presence conveying a sense of control even though his words were laced with slight distress.
"They left. You can go whenever you feel," George responded.
"Fair enough," he answered, and in true Eric Matthews style, he swaggered toward Alexandra, swiftly taking his sunglasses out of his pants pocket and gracefully placed them on his face. The last thing he would want Alexandra to see was his disdain for her is his eyes. If he had learned anything in his life, it's best not to ever show your true emotions.
"Very nice to meet you, Karen," Eric smoothly stated, offering his hand.
"Promise me you guys," Eric pleaded, tears filling his eyes. "Promise me that after tomorrow, you'll forget about me, about us, about all of this." He gestured to the desolate woods that surrounded them. "This will be our last Liar's meeting. It has been an honor to be friends with each and every one of you, but I feel like we need to move on with our lives…and in order to do that, we must never speak about what transpired in these woods yesterday… Agreed?" Eric stood in the dimly lit darkness and untied the red bandana that had been faithfully secured around his wrist during his entire stay at Camp Sequoia. He immediately felt naked and vulnerable without it, for it represented the unspoken support between his cabin mates.
He held his favor above the blazing fire pit, taking in the expressions of five of the closest friends he would ever have… "Chase?" He whispered.
Beside Eric, a lanky boy's hazel eyes also glittered with tears. His body trembled with emotion. He jerked his yellow bandana. "Agreed," he replied his voice wavering slightly. He stood and suspended his beloved garment above the flames. Chase then turned to a tall girl with blonde hair that haphazardly fell around her green eyes. Her bright purple flannel shirt contrasted with the bleakness of the woods that surrounded them as well as the darkness in each of their hearts. He would end up never forgetting that shirt for as long as he lived. "Andy?" He grabbed her hand and gently tugged her into a standing position.
Her lips trembled and she covered her mouth to stifle a sob.
"Can't believe it's come to this," Andy lamented as she removed the purple fabric from around her neck. "But, as much as it hurts…" She held it above the heat and gazed into the fire, bitterness and anger consuming her soul. "Agreed." She then turned to a pale, blue-eyed boy. His skin looked almost ghostly in the circle as he solemnly removed his dark blue bandana from his wrist, kissing the fabric before following suit behind his friends.
"Agreed," Jason replied before letting out a long breath, his Blind Melon concert T-shirt glowing in the light.
He looked upon the face of the last member of their close society whose blue eyes matched his own and filled with identical sadness. He tipped his head to her in acknowledgement. She reluctantly stood, removing her red Philadelphia Phillies baseball cap that had been a gift from Eric to reveal her turquoise bandana, which was tied tightly around her ponytail. She tugged at the loose end, letting her long light brown waves cascade down her shoulders. She looked at Jason for a moment, trying to gather strength from the friend she had known for two summers and from whom she would separate herself from after the next passing day. She lowered her head as she held her piece of cloth near the hot flames.
"Alex?" Jason said, placing a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at Eric, who was situated directly in front of her.
"Damn you," she whispered, only loud enough for Eric to hear. "Agreed," she vocalized in a louder tone.
"Then it's done." Eric observed, his eyes conveying unfathomable control and stability. "We will release these on one and the decision will be final. After the garments are burned, so are our physical ties to one another. However, we will always be obligated to offer a helping hand to a brother or sister in need, shall we ever pass ways again after our departure from this place tomorrow. We will start the countdown in clockwise order." Eric sighed, realizing that they were standing mere feet away from where the incident occurred, an incident that would undoubtedly take an unconscious toll on all of them and would shape their futures for years to come.
"Five" Chase begun.
"Four" Andy followed.
"Three" Jason whispered, closing his eyes.
"Two," Alex said, never loosing Eric's gaze.
"One," Eric followed, completing the decision.
They dropped their bandanas into the flames, watching them as they burned quickly into ashes as they spoke in unison.
"Confession is always weakness. The grave soul keeps its own secrets, and takes its own punishment in silence."
They stood there for what seemed like forever, feeling each other's energies for the last time.
"I here by adjourn this meeting of the Liar's Club. Until next time…" Eric said before he inwardly kicked himself, for they would never see each other again in this setting.
"Have a good one," Chase said as he did at every meeting, making his rounds to each member before putting the fire out. As they left, each member walked in an opposite direction each feeling like they had all gained fifty pounds in the soul.
She smiled up at him, lightly chuckling. "Very nice to meet you too. I'll be seeing you."
He didn't reply with anything, quietly fading away and out of the door. For the first time in a long time, Eric Matthews felt as if he did not have control over his life like he thought he did.