Chapter 6

Billy entered the station the next morning to find Stacy at her desk, her head was down and she was working on the schedules.

"Was everything okay at the house?" he asked kindly.

She didn't lift her head. "I think so," she said simply. Her voice sounded muffled, almost as if she had a head cold.

"Stacy, what's wrong?" Billy asked, frowning with worry.

Her head raised but she didn't face him. He watched her side profile as she sighed. He could immediately tell she had been crying. He moved in front of her. "What happened?"

She immediately began to sniffle. "It's over Billy," she said before a sob wracked through her throat.

He deflated, this was his only concern about them getting together. There was so much potential for hurt. "I'm so sorry," he said gruffly, kneeling in front of her desk. He was so tall that he could look near level at her.

She put her head down onto her folded arms and began to sob deeply.

Billy got up again and walked to her side. He gently eased her up, and led her by the arm into his office for privacy.

She continued to cry into her hands, after being seated at his desk. He sat across from her, waiting until she was ready to talk.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she gasped through her sobs.

"It's alright, there's nothing to apologize for," he promised.

The tears began to subside but she continued to gasp and hiccup. He procured a box of tissues and handed them to her. She accepted them gratefully.

Finally, when her breathing had steadied, she was able to talk. "I should never have let it happen, I knew it couldn't last," she said sadly.

"Regardless of whether it could have lasted or not, you couldn't have known that," he said simply.

"He lied to me. About telling Schemee," she admitted, "it was just too much."

"You two had a lot happen in a short period of time, I can understand why it would be too much to get past."

"I guess it's for the best," she sounded strained as she said it, "He's moving to Dillylick anyways. I could never have moved there, how would it have worked?"

Billy shrugged. "Maybe it would have, maybe it wouldn't have. But lying is a big issue, and I can understand why you couldn't move past it."

She folded her arms and rested her chin on top of them. She paused before speaking again.

"I'm a hypocrite Billy," she confessed.

"How so?"

"I didn't tell my family either. Things came up, kind of just like he said, and I couldn't do it. But I didn't lie to his face. Is lying by omission any better? I guess not," she shrugged.

"Do you think if he hadn't lied directly, and had 'lied by omission', would you still have ended it?" Billy asked.

She shrugged with a sigh. "I don't know. Perhaps we were both wrong, and he's the only one who's being punished for it. I'm not sure, but I don't think I can go back. Like you said, a lot happened in a short time."

"I understand. You don't need to explain it to me. You're two people in an unfortunate situation," he said. He looked up as he heard someone else enter the station. "I'll go see who that is, you can stay here as long as you need."

He exited his office to see Schemer heading towards the arcade. His eyes had dark circles under them, and he wore a steely look on his face.

"Schemer?" Bill asked softly as he closed the door behind him. "Did you want to go for a walk?"

"I didn't come to stay for long. I'm just returning this and leaving." He produced a key from his pocket. It was his copy of the key to the Station.

"Oh, right. Thanks Schemer," Billy said.

He nodded and turned to leave, his head held high and shoulders straight. He walked out of the station but Billy followed him out to his car.

"Are you going to be okay?" Billy asked, feeling concerned for his friend's wellbeing. Stacy would be easier to console, being at the station all day. Schemer was going through an even bigger upheaval and would soon be more isolated from his friends. Not to mention, he had effectively lost his friendship and relationship with Stacy all at once, Billy couldn't imagine that he was in a good place.

Schemer looked at Billy, traces of sadness leaking through his cool mask. "I knew, and have known, that had it ever come down to me or the Station I never would have stood a chance in her eyes," Schemer confessed, "I'm packing up tomorrow. The station will be closed so I probably won't see you." He offered Billy his hand. Billy ignored it and pulled him into a bear hug.

"I'll come help. Make sure you take care of yourself, and keep in touch," Billy said regretfully. The emotion in Billy's voice caused Schemer's mask to shatter. He returned the hug, shuddering as he held back his tears.

When they broke apart Schemer wiped stray tears away with the back of his hand. "Please, promise me that Stacy won't be in tomorrow. It'll be hard enough as it is," Schemer requested.

"I'll pass the message along," Billy agreed, and sadly watched as Schemer drove away.

When he woke up the next day, Schemee found himself feeling conflicted. He knew he should be happy that he was on Christmas vacation. But the recent events had weighed heavily on him. He had royally screwed up, and he knew it. One small silver lining was that he didn't have to deal with anybody from school. However, he lived with his uncle, who was still quite upset with him. It had been two days since the party and beyond the normal, if strained, conversation he had scarcely said a word to his nephew. Schemee wasn't even sure if he was grounded or not as Schemer had never set a real punishment. Schemer just seemed out of it, and Schemee wasn't about to ask him to define how angry he was. "Hey uncle, just wondering if you're grounding me until I leave for college, or if this is just a three week thing? Okay, let me know!" He could hear that conversation in his head, and he could not picture it going well.

Currently, Schemee was sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast while his uncle got ready for work. Schemer was gathering a considerable amount of paperwork, and seemed to be calculating something. Schemee didn't ask, and Schemer didn't offer any clues. The phone rang, Schemee waited a moment but his uncle scarcely seemed to register it. He got up and made his way over.

"Hello?" he asked glumly.

"Schemee?" Dan's voice was on the other line. "How are you?"

"Alright. You?"

"Meh, okay. Did you want to walk over to the library today? Becky and Kara were going to meet us. I'm grounded but my mom figured that we couldn't get into any trouble there." Schemee thought about it. "I'm not sure... Hang on a second."

He turned to his uncle. "Uncle Schemer?" he asked hesitantly.

"Hmm?" was the only reply as he poured over his paperwork.

"Could I… Could I go with Dan, Backy and Kara and walk to the library?" he asked, not hopeful about the answer. He barely wanted to ask, but what could he really lose at this point.

"Okay," Schemer said simply, "I'm heading over to the station now. I'll see you later." He gathered his documents and swept out of the room without another word.

Schemee watched him retreat before turning back to the phone. "Yes... I'll walk over to your house and meet you there. Bye," he said as they both hung up.

Becky and Kara were already at Dan's house when Schemee walked up. They smiled sadly as he walked up and exchanged 'hello's'.

"Hey," he said softly, pocketing his hands for warmth, "Shall we head over?"

The other three nodded. The walk began in silence, all four struggling with feelings of guilt. Kara was the one to break the silence.

"I'm really sorry, Schemee. I shouldn't have egged you on," she admitted quietly.

He shook his head. "No, it's all my fault, I never should have thought it was a good idea in the first place. Besides, I was in charge and I messed up... Badly," he said and sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his neck with his left hand.

"I feel pretty bad too, Schemee," Becky admitted while Dan nodded. "I mean, I can't lie and say I liked the whole idea in the first place but I feel I didn't fight hard enough."

Schemee shook his head with a sad grin. "It's not anybody's fault."

"So was your uncle mad?" Becky asked.

Schemee gave a humourless laugh. "I've never seen him so mad in my life. He didn't shout. But still, he was just so...so…," he gave up and shrugged, struggling for words.

"Disappointed?" Kara offered.

He nodded. "Yeah, exactly."

"That's the worst. I hate it when my parents are disappointed in me," Dan said, shuddering.

The other three nodded in earnest.

"I know you're worried, but it won't last forever. Once the whole thing with the arcade blows over he'll be better," Becky said in a comforting way.

"Yeah, I don't mean to pry, but what are you guys going to do about that anyways?" Kara asked.

Schemee frowned in confusion. "Going to do about what?" he asked.

Dan's eyes widened. "Uh-oh... I forgot. You weren't at the station yesterday when we found out. Did your Uncle talk to you?" he asked worriedly.

"Talk to me about what?" Schemee asked, feeling a new panic rising, "What do you know that I don't?"

The three stopped in their tracks. He turned to face them. "Tell me," he pleaded, "Please?"

"Schemee... Your uncle was forced to terminate his lease. The arcade is being shut down," Becky explained gently. Schemee's mouth hung open.

"When? When did that happen?" he asked, suddenly feeling devastated.

"The day before the party. It happened before he came home, that's why he was home early." Dan said softly. "I'm really sorry, Schemee. I thought, we thought, you knew."

Schemee closed his mouth and looked contemplative. He shook his head in shock. "I have to go, I have to find my uncle," he said suddenly. He turned on his heels and broke out into a run. The other three yelled after him but he didn't stop, he couldn't stop. He had to talk to his uncle. He didn't stop running until he reached Shining Time Station. By that point he had a stitch in his side and stopped for a scant few seconds before barging inside.

Schemer was talking to Billy as Schemee walked in. They seemed to be in a deep and serious conversation beside the jukebox. Schemee floated off to the side and waited for them to finish, or for one of them to notice them. They moved a bit closer and Schemee caught the tail end of their conversation.

"I'll put together a spot in storage. They can stay there for as long as you need them to be," Billy said.

Schemer nodded gratefully. "Thanks Billy."

Billy gave a nod and clapped Schemer on the shoulder before heading back to his office. Schemer noticed his nephew and turned to look at Schemee. His gaze didn't carry any of his usual warmth or mischievousness. Schemee could have sworn that he looked happy to see him for a split second before his face took the impassive look to which Schemee was growing accustomed. He gave a quick jerk of his head towards the arcade as a motion for Schemee to follow. Once they were in the tucked away area of the arcade Schemer turned to face him.

"I thought you said you were going to the library with your friends," Schemer said, sounding slightly suspicious.

"I was, but I had to come find you," he admitted, pausing before blurting out the question that was weighing on his mind, "Why didn't you tell me that you lost the arcade?"

He felt slightly hurt that his Uncle hadn't confided in him, even though they were on shaky ground.

Schemer shrugged. "I didn't 'lose' the arcade. All the machines are still mine. It's this space that I no longer have. Besides, I figured I didn't have to tell you. You seem to have had a good lesson in how talking through the grapevine works. Word gets around," he said regretfully.

Schemee gritted his teeth. "But that was before the party! Don't you think I would have wanted to know?"

Schemer's eyes narrowed. "Would it have made a difference? If I told you that very day, would you have gone through with your grand plans? I'm not sure I want to know if your answer changes, to be honest. But, if you need to know the truth, I didn't want to worry you," he told Schemee.

Schemee opened and closed his mouth without making a sound. He struggled to process this and said nothing. Schemer turned around to face the jukebox. "I have until tomorrow to pack up. Billy's storing the machines for me until I can make other plans." He placed a hand on top of the jukebox. "Besides, this old thing is too creepy for me to bring with me... I mean really, it plays on its own all the time. And then sometimes it doesn't play when you put a nickel in. It's haunted... Who would ever want it?" he asked aloud, Schemee wasn't quite sure if he was talking to him or not anymore.

"You would," Schemee said simply. Schemer turned to face his nephew, his expression softening a touch. He removed his hand hesitantly from the old jukebox. At first he didn't say anything, but finally admitted, "Yes, I would."

He took a step back and observed his arcade, looking suddenly emotional. Schemee understood what this meant to him. This would be the last time he would ever see it again as it was. Altogether and all pieces present at Shining Time Station. Never again would he walk in for a day's work and say good morning to his friends. He would never get to banter with Stacy and poke fun at Billy. His arcade, his 'Kingdom', was finally being overthrown.

Schemee couldn't help but feel sorry, and as his uncle had said, he was worried. He could understand why his Uncle was acting especially snappish. On some level, he didn't blame him. His business was essentially shut down and who knew what he was going to do now.

As if reading his nephew's mind, Schemer spoke up. "I have another job. I was offered a position elsewhere," he explained quietly.

Schemee nodded. "I'm sorry, I know how much the arcade meant to you," he said sincerely. Schemee wasn't just trying to get back into his uncle's good graces, he genuinely meant it.

Schemer smiled, but it was a ghost of his trademark grin and barely seemed to contain any happiness. Though to Schemee, it was still better than nothing.

Schemer turned to Schemee. "I need you to go home. Go pack up anything you'd need for a long stay somewhere. Clothes, school clothes, books, anything you need. Try to keep it somewhat light, though," he explained.

Schemee's eyes widened. "Are we not staying at the house?" he asked, confused.

"No, not at the house. You'll still be at the same school, and relatively close to Shining Time Station, but the house won't work. Bring any necessities and leave everything else. I still need to sort out what to do with the house so we'll be leaving most things there for now," Schemer explained.

Schemee nodded sadly, "Okay, should I go now?"

"Soon. Could you help me and Billy with something first?" Schemer inquired softly.

"Sure, what is it?" Schemee asked, wondering what it was.

"I need help moving the machines. We have a few trolleys to roll them out to the storage room but I'll need help carrying them out. I want this over with as soon as possible and your help would mean a lot," he said sincerely. Schemee felt somewhat touched that he was asking him to help tear down his precious set up. It was obviously quite hard on Schemer.

They worked mostly in silence. Billy came back out of his office to help lift. Schemer gave the occasional direction or brief statement of sentiment as they loaded the machines. Quick stories on where and how he obtained them. They made several trips and the jukebox was the last to go. Uncle and nephew lifted it into the spot left for it with the other machines. Schemer looked at it strangely for a moment. Schemee felt it was as if his uncle's small mark on the history at Shining Time Station was being locked away in this tiny room.

"I hope that at least once more, I'll get to hear it play on its own. Otherwise, I won't even believe myself when I say it used to do that," Schemer said sadly, he shut the doors with one last mournful look at his machines. The three walked back to the station in silence.

It wasn't until they got back inside that Schemer really felt lost. The station suddenly looked empty, the corner where the arcade once proudly stood was now blank and vacant.

Schemer walked over slowly. He put one hand on the banister to steady himself. The consequences of what happened were truly sinking in. As he stood in the empty space, Schemee and Billy looked on sadly. Schemer stood in front of where the jukebox was once positioned and lowered his head slowly.

Schemee spoke up, "Do you need anymore help?" he asked.

Schemer's head snapped back up. "No, everything is done for now," he said shakily.

Stacy rushed to the Station in her red Volkswagen Beetle. She knew that he didn't want to see her there. She knew that she should just stay away. There was something important that she had to tell him, and she needed to see him off. It was nearly three in the afternoon, and she willed him to still be there. She hurriedly parked and ran inside. What awaited her made her heart nearly stop.

The emptiness of the station... It was terrible. It was like the fun and exciting part of the station had been violently ripped away. She was at loss for words and could only stare at what it had become. A very important piece of the station had just been removed, leaving only an empty gaping wound.

She looked around wildly, worried she had missed seeing him. She made her way over to the now empty landing, nearly stumbling up the steps, trying to find some hint of mirth or happiness within. She just needed something to remember that this place had once contained laughter.

Footfall met her ears and she heard someone clear his throat behind her. Turning around, she saw him leaning against the railing on the bottom step. She walked up to him, stopping at the top step. She saw that his eyes were reddened, and that he was the only one left in the station. His expression was unreadable and he breathed deeply as he looked on at her. She didn't say anything further and wrapped her arms around his waist in a hug. The tears that threatened to spill from her eyes finally broke through and she gave a sob into his plaid suit jacket. At first he kept his arms at his side but eventually she felt them wrap around her shoulders. He pulled her close and rested his head on the top of hers briefly.

"Please, don't leave for good. When this all clears up, please promise me that you'll come back and visit?" she pleaded into his chest.

He said nothing at first but as he broke apart from her he nodded. "I'll try," he said as he gripped her hand.

Mr. Conductor had tried to escape several times, but found with every passing moment his energy and magic were increasingly sapped. There was no one to call to help. The dark magic wielder had managed to sneak past his notice, and boldly fronted an attack on him within his own station. The station he was charged with keeping safe. It was still unclear to him to whom this dark magic belonged. No entity or person had come forward. All he knew was that he was being held prisoner in some dark, dank cell.

Finally, when he could barely hold himself conscious, someone came forward. Mr. Conductor could only describe him as whip-like. He was a very average looking man, and very human. He was extremely slender, with limbs that were long and thin. His face was angular, with pointed features. Brown hair and brown eyes made for a very nondescript person.

Something about him was familiar, however. He wore a prison uniform, and entered into Mr. Conductor's cell through a portal swirling with dark magic.

"Mr. Conductor," he greeted him in a voice that hardly fit him, it was a deep baritone and entirely unexpected, "how are you feeling?"

Mr. Conductor said nothing. He was almost at the end, he knew it, and this man surely knew it.

"No need to answer," he continued, with a cheerful demeanour that was very out of place, "I just want to tell you that you're free to go."

"That's it?" Mr. Conductor asked weakly.

"Yes, I fear you're no longer useful to me. You can return to where you came, or wherever you want, to die in peace," he explained.

"And if I go back, warn everyone I can think of, you'll do what exactly?" he asked, his ire rising rapidly despite his highly weakened state.

"Absolutely nothing, trust me, there's absolutely nothing you could do, and to prove it I'm letting you go ahead. Go warn your friends, no doubt that they'll need it," the man warned him with a shrug. He clapped once and the bars disappeared from around Mr. Conductor and his whistle and gold dust was returned. Most importantly, the purple haze that was sapping his strength lifted. He shakily got to his feet, he would have the strength for just one trip.

"Who are you?" Mr. Conductor chanced asking one more thing of this stranger.

He gave a cold grin. "No one you need to know about. No, go, they need you no doubt," he said sinisterly as he travelled back through his portal. It dissipated after his departure, leaving Mr. Conductor to scramble for his whistle. He only had one chance, he had to make it count.

The next morning, Schemee woke up to Schemer calling his name. His eyes slid open and he checked his bedside clock. Schemer stepped into his room, fully dressed and ready to go as Schemee began to slowly pull himself out of bed.

"Uncle Schemer, it's five thirty in the morning," he said groggily, feeling annoyed.

Schemer checked his watch. "Yes, and we're being expected. Get the rest of your things ready and grab a quick breakfast, I want to be out of here by six," he said quickly before exiting his nephew's room.

Schemee threw off his covers, squinting painfully into the sudden brightness of his room. He grabbed some clean clothes that weren't packed in his suitcase. After showering, eating and gathering up a few more essentials, Schemee walked out to his uncle's car with his suitcase.

The two began their journey just before the clock struck six.

Schemee slept in the passenger seat for most of the journey, though the drive was only about a half hour or so. It was a nice nap, especially after being woken up at a time he deemed too early to be decent. He was awakened for the second time that morning as they pulled into a bumpy dirt driveway. Schemee opened his eyes to see them pull up to a house at the end of the long driveway. They were somewhere out in the open country, the houses on either side were a little ways down the road.

Schemer quietly left the car and Schemee followed suit. Schemee turned to Schemer as they stood in front of the house.

"Is this where we're staying?" he asked.

"Come on, we should get inside and let him know that we're here," Schemer responded but didn't answer his question. He started up the front walk and Schemee had no choice to follow, assuming he'd find out who 'he' was momentarily. Schemer gave a curt knock on the door and waited. A moment later the door was opened by whom Schemee could only describe as an older version of his uncle.

"Horace, you're right on time," the man said with a grin. He had a friendly demeanor. He didn't have a curl on the side of his head like his Uncle did but Schemer could almost pass as his son. They had the same face structure and build, though the older man was slightly taller and had broader shoulders. Instead of having dark brown hair like Schemer, he had a salt and pepper mix of brown and grey. He pulled Schemer into a brief embrace. "It's been too long."

"Schemee, this is my Uncle Allcott. Uncle, this is my nephew that I was telling you about," Schemer introduced as the two shook hands. Allcott smiled kindly down on him.

"I've heard quite a bit about you, do you mind if I call you Jonathan? I have this pet peeve with nicknames," he said, throwing an obvious look at Schemer who grinned sheepishly. Jonathan was Schemee's real first name. He didn't really mind, it just never seemed to fit him. Nonetheless, Schemee shook his head indicating that he didn't mind.

"Good, good. Both of you, come on inside." He held open the door for them as they entered. He had a fairly large home. It was a big and old country house, most likely an old farmhouse from what Schemee could tell.

They followed Allcott into the kitchen where he served them some tea and they chatted lightly. Schemee noticed that his Uncle was uncharacteristically quiet, though he assumed that it was because he seemed to hold a lot of respect for his older Uncle and had quietened his boisterous personality. Allcott seemed to have a distinctly opposite personality to Schemer. While he was friendly, he was also quiet. Yet he had a knack for appearing as if he were focusing deeply on someone when they spoke to him. In turn, he maintained people's attention on himself without effort when he spoke.

"So Jonathan, you're Julia's son, correct?" he asked pointedly.

Schemee nodded. "Yes, she was my mother."

Allcott placed down his cup of tea. "I'm very sorry about your loss, I was quite upset to learn that she had passed," he said sincerely as he placed down his tea.

Schemer, who hadn't spoken up until this point in the conversation, cut in. "In case you're wondering, Uncle Allcott is your great uncle. He's mine and your mother's uncle," Schemer explained and Schemee nodded in understanding.

"If you don't mind, would you be able to show Schemee to his room and around the house? I've got a few things to get from the car," Schemer asked as he excused himself.

"By all means, my boy. Jonathan, if you may, you can follow me upstairs," Allcott said as the two left towards the upstairs.

As they reached the top step, Allcott spoke again. "You remind me of your uncle quite a bit, I can tell just by looking at you that you're a lot like him," he commented.

Schemee grinned slightly. "So I've been told."

Allcott looked mildly amused. "Yes, the differences are there but you've taken quite a bit after him. Ah, I'll start with this room first," he said as he pushed open a grand oak door. Schemee gasped a little bit as he entered.

"Wow," he said in awe as he looked around. The room was a mini-library in itself. It was wall to wall with books and even had one of those ladders on wheels attached to the wall to reach the upper levels of books. In the middle of the room was a magnificent looking desk with large, cushy armchairs on either side.

"I'm a retired psychiatrist. As you can see I've gathered quite the collection of books over the years. You're welcome to borrow any you wish, I'm sure I have some subject that will interest you," Allcott explained, "Would you like to see where you will be staying?"

Schemee nodded and took one last look around the large, circular shaped room. He followed Allcott out and back down the hallway again. He pointed out various rooms such as the bathroom and hall closets. They finally stood in front of a door at the opposite end of the long hallway.

"This is where your Uncle stayed when he came to live with me," Allcott said as he opened the door for them. The room was spacious and contained a large bed in the middle. It was complete with a television, bedside table, alarm clock and dresser. It looked like a comfortable place to stay.

"When did he live with you?" Schemee asked curiously.

"A number of years ago. When he was about nineteen or so, he was here for a few months," He explained, though Schemee could tell he was deliberately downplaying certain events.

"How come?" he questioned, feeling slightly odd about this scenario.

Allcott laughed gently, "It's probably better you ask your Uncle that yourself. We should probably head back downstairs now, I'll show you the grounds a little bit later but for now I believe your Uncle is waiting," he said.

Schemee followed him back downstairs, and his mind started turning different points of the conversation back in his brain. "Excuse me?" he asked, not knowing how to address Allcott.

"You can call me Allcott, Uncle or Uncle Allcott. Whichever you prefer," he said intuitively.

"Thanks, Uncle Allcott then. If I'm staying in my Uncle's old room, where will he be staying?"

Schemee asked shrewdly as they climbed down the final steps and turned the corner. Schemer came back into view, standing in the front hallway with a single suitcase beside him. Schemee's suitcase. Schemee froze as he took in the sight. His Uncle watched them calmly from the entrance.

"I'll leave you two be, let me know when you're heading out Horace," Allcott said gently as he turned towards the kitchen. Schemee followed him with his eyes, before turning back to face his Uncle. Schemer seemed to be deliberately avoiding his eye and was occupying himself with a loose string on his suit jacket.

Schemee felt the anger rise within him. His nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed. "You're not staying here. Are you?" he hissed.

Schemer stared at him for a moment, with an unreadable expression on his face, before closing his eyes and shaking his head.

You... You tricked me," Schemee said angrily.

Schemer finally met his eyes. "I did no such thing," he said, though his eyes betrayed his guilt, "I never lied to you. Come outside with me for a minute, let's not make a scene in my uncle's house."

"Yeah, but you never told the truth either!" Schemee said angrily, following Schemer to the car, "So you still can scheme, I was beginning to wonder!"

Schemer nodded, though there was a sad smile on his face. "I guess some habits die hard. Besides, it was the only way I could get you to come all this way without having you fight me over it. You can stay in your school and still stay close to your friends this way," he pointed out, trying to help Schemee see the upside.

"You're just trying to punish me! You're still bitter about the party and can't bring yourself to live with me now that you have a way out!" Schemee was shouting now, and throwing accusations was the only comfort right now.

Schemer frowned. "If I wanted to punish you I wouldn't have brought you to live with my uncle. He's a good man, and he's willing to take you in for the time being, until I can get things sorted out. Besides, I stayed with him when I was younger," he explained, dropping his voice, "He helped get me back on my feet when I was young, stupid and troubled."

Schemee's mouth dropped. "You think I need to live with a psychiatrist because I'm "troubled"?" he asked incredulously, shaking his head fervently.

"No! That's not what I said!" Schemer exclaimed, his careful façade beginning to crack, "But, regardless you would probably benefit from the stability. I'd like you to stay at school and be near your friends, and maybe have someone to talk to who isn't me. I haven't exactly been the best guardian lately as you've noticed."

Schemee wasn't buying it. "So why are you really leaving? What's this job that's so important that you have to leave?" Schemee demanded.

"It's in Dillylick, and it's a good four hours from Shining Time. Until I can get something better, or move up hopefully, it's where I'm stuck," Schemer explained carefully, "It's not permanent, but I'm just trying to find a way that doesn't disturb your life too much. I'm going to go say goodbye to Allcott now, but after that I have to leave."

He strode past Schemee to go find Allcott, who was now upstairs in his study room. When he came back down, Schemee still hadn't moved from his spot. He eyed his Uncle, unable to keep the betrayal out of his features.

Schemer sighed. "Please don't take it so personally, I'm not doing this to hurt you. Please believe me, I don't want to leave you behind. This is temporary," he emphasized, yet was slowly becoming at a loss of words.

Schemee clenched his fists. "I still can't believe you're doing this," he muttered through gritted teeth. Schemer took a step towards Schemee and opened his arms. Schemee could suddenly see how sad and tired his uncle looked, but it only made him angrier. He moved away and didn't let him embrace him. Schemer let his arms drop to his sides and Schemee relished the hurt shining in his eyes.

" Good ," he thought maliciously. Schemer settled for clapping him on the shoulder instead and said in a gravelly voice, "I'll see you next weekend."

Schemer began to make his way over to his car, and Schemee found himself following. Schemer turned back to face him once he was at the driver's door.

"You're just going to drive away, aren't you? You're just going to leave me. I'm sorry I was that much of a disappointment, Uncle Schemer," he spat bitterly.

Schemer swallowed heavily, Schemee could see that he was struggling to retain his mask of impassive calmness.

"I'm not leaving for good, I'm just a phone call away. And I will always drop everything and be right here if you need me... All of this, it's not because of you, please know that," Schemer desperately tried to explain, one last time.,"If you need anything, anything at all, I will be here in a heartbeat."

Schemee had to look away and a tear slid down his face.

He saw the corner of Schemer's mouth twitch. "I'm sorry," he whispered one last time. That resolved Schemee's nerve once more. He angrily brushed the tear away and took a step back, before leaving his uncle standing in the driveway, staring sadly after him.

Schemer drove on, feeling as if he was on autopilot. He knew Schemee would take it badly but once he had calmed down, he hoped that Schemee would see that it was all for the best.

But still, it did nothing to help the heavy feeling in his chest. The look on his nephew's face was burned in his mind and he found he couldn't stop thinking about it. He suddenly took a few deep gasps, fighting the flood of emotions that threatened to burst free. It was in vain, and the tears started and showed no sign of stopping. Schemer pulled off to the shoulder as quickly as he could. It was only then that the full impact of everything that had happened in the past few days caught up with him. Deep sobs wracked his chest and he finally broke down, feeling like life had literally turned him upside down.