(Yeah sorry for taking so long with uploading. I've more or less finished this fic, but the second one is giving me endless trouble. I now know how Peter Jackson felt when he had to make The Two Towers into a film. The middle half of a trilogy sucks to make. So I've been pretty down on myself because of this...and yeah, here's chapter 23. Things get heavy again; you know these two just can't live peacefully together for more than an hour. Enjoy.)
chapter 23
Howard could vaguely hear someone calling his name. Then, sharp pain blossomed across his cheek, and he was suddenly back in the hut, looking down on an alarmed Vince.
He and Leroy had gone out about town before his friend left, and Howard had opted to just stay in. After about ten minutes Howard felt quite strange in the silence that had once surrounded him in his many years alone in the Keeper Lodge. He'd put on a record, and before he knew it he was fading into a jazz trance, letting the music flow around him.
Howard now held one hand to his stinging cheek.
"What was that for!?"
"You weren't answerin' me! I thought you were havin' a spasm or something!"
"A spasm? That, Vince, was no spasm. That is called being immersed in the notes, letting the juju take hold."
"Well it was creepy."
The boy shook his head at Howard, reaching over to turn off the record player.
"Do you mind, I was listening to that."
"I can't stand jazz, you know that! Put on the telly or somethin'."
It was Howard's turn to shake his head, going over to slump down on the sofa and fumble for the remote. He found it stuck between the cushions, along with a trail of shiny cloth and glitter, that stuck annoyingly to his hand. He sent a glare over at the kid, who was now planted on Howard's bed, writing in his book and eating candy that no doubt Leroy had bought for him before leaving.
"Vince, this is the third time. What did I say about leaving your things everywhere?"
"It's just some fabric! Throw it on the floor, I'll get it later."
"No you won't. You'll leave it there until I get tired of stepping on it and put it away, just like I do with all your things, Vince."
Vince looked up, squinting his eyes and lowering his brow at Howard.
"Not all my stuff!"
"Yes all your stuff! I'm constantly putting your things back into that rusty old box of yours. And your clothes; I pick them up off the floor and wash them and put them away. Vince, you have to learn to do some things yourself, you know!"
Vince just mumbled under his breath, words that Howard was certain comprised mainly of curses, and went back to his writing and sweet-eating. Howard flicked through the channels, searching for something decent to watch. He concentrated on each channel, and on reigning in his temper. This kid was bad for his blood-pressure.
Soon Howard was calm once more, involved in a World War One documentary. He watched from the side of his vision as the boy got up from his bed, walking over to set his book and pencil on top of a dresser, where many of the boy's items lay cluttered on top of one another. Howard had exhausted his patience in the last few months, but this mess and disorganisation was really starting to make him itch.
The teen then fetched a fresh pair of pants and made his way to the shower, where he spent the customary forty minutes before emerging in a cloud of steam. He climbed up into his own bed and flopped onto his side, snoring within minutes.
It was nearly an hour later when Howard finally decided to shower and ready for bed. Upon lifting his duvet, he discovered several candy wrappers, which Vince had neglected to pick up. Huffing, Howard threw them into the bin and wiped any crumbs off his sheets. He really needed to become more strict with the teen. This doing-as-he-pleased shtick wasn't going to work. Howard had mostly turned a blind eye to the child's idiosyncrasies, just content to have them living together and enjoying eachother's company. But it was slowly becoming more difficult to simply put things out of mind, and Howard's short fuse was sparking now at nearly everything the boy did. Howard closed his eyes and tried very hard to quiet his mind and sleep, and soon slipped into blissful blackness.
Vince stood outside Bollo's cage, surrounded by his friends who'd arrived together not ten minutes ago. The sun was setting, and Howard had just walked up to them, dressed for his gig, which was in an hour. He looked skeptically at all of these young people, looking to be between the ages of fifteen and twenty-something. There were two girls and four guys. Howard noted with apprehension that Leroy was absent.
Howard really didn't want to leave them alone for hours while he was out. He would've re-scheduled his performance, if he wasn't so afraid of angering the people giving him the spot at their establishment. It was quite a well-respected theatre house, where many live performances took place. But he had a really bad feeling about this. The nervous man raised his voice over the idle chatter of the kids.
"Hey Vince, I thought you said you'd all be staying in the Lodge, yeah?"
Vince, who'd been talking animatedly with a short-haired girl, looked over at the older man, giving him a grin and a wave.
"We will, I swear! Just wanted everyone to meet Bollo...Hey! Why don't we go in an' say hello. I got a key to all the exhibits just last week-"
"Vince, non-keepers aren't allowed into the enclosures. You know that."
"Oh come off it, Howard. It'll be fun!"
Vince and the others made to go around the exhibit, toward the door. Howard took a step forward, putting all the authority he possessed into his stance and voice.
"Vince! You're not letting all these people in there. That exhibit isn't big enough to hold all of you; and besides, Bollo hates men."
Vince gave him a withering look, but set his jaw silently and stepped back toward the front of the cage. He stuck his hand through the bars, letting Bollo take hold of it, and talked to the ape in a low tone. Thankfully Howard didn't see anyone else put there hands in the pen, although he was now receiving veiled dirty looks from a few of the teenagers. Howard took that as his cue to head out. If any of those little buggers got their arm ripped off by a savage gorilla...well, it served them right.
Howard hadn't brought his guitar with him this time. He wasn't even going to sing at this performance. No, he had organised it all with the host over the phone. They had a lovely grande piano on their stage, and Howard had agreed to play a few songs on it. His mother had sent him to lessons when he was boy, and the skill had never left him. Howard honestly enjoyed playing the piano more than his acoustic sometimes; it was incredible relaxing. It felt less amateur and more refined. He'd planned on revealing his hidden talent to the kid at the performance, but then the little brat had went and organised his party for that same weekend. Ah, well...
Howard was by no means alone that night. He'd not only gotten the courage to invite Gideon to the show, but had asked Joey to come along as well. Half-way through his performance and into his fourth sonata, Howard looked out into the crowd of people, all seated at little tables, and spotted Gideon and Moose. He'd very nearly messed up a few notes, but held himself in check for the rest of the show, though his sweating increased ten-fold. He'd known Joey would show up; they were still good pals, if a bit distant. But Gideon...Gideon had actually come to his performance.
At the end of the show, Howard met his co-workers at their table, the building soon filling up with the soft voice of the woman now on stage. Both complimented him on his marvelous performance, Gideon patting him gently on the arm, and Howard was surprised his face didn't melt off, what with how hot it felt.
After several rounds of drinks and good times Howard realised how late the hour had grown, and tried to politely excuse himself. He'd told Vince he would be back by eleven, and he was already several minutes behind. As he rose, Gideon lay her hand over his, essentially freezing him in place.
"Please, the night is young. Can't we go out for dinner somewhere? Walk about town, perhaps?"
Her voice swam around in his head, turning his brain to mush as he grinned like a fool. Moose made to rise from the table, claiming a wish to turn in early and giving Howard a wink. Howard and Gideon left the theatre soon after, heading out into the brisk night air and talking amiably the entire time.
Howard floated through the zoo gates, not paying Graham any mind as he flashed his pass. He and Gideon had traversed the town for hours, stopping only once for tea in a little night cafe. They'd learned much about one another in that time. Howard had never known that Gideon could play the trumpet, and had her own private library in her house. It was two stories high, she had said. Howard had asked how she could afford such a library if she only worked in this run-down little zoo. She had smiled and revealed to Howard that she was in fact quite wealthy. Had inherited money from her dead parents.
Howard was confused, and his face must have shown it, because Gideon gave a slightly wry smile as she explained that the only reason she was a zookeeper was because of her passion for snakes. True, in the beginning she had joined because she was in love with the Zooniverse, and had a great respect for Tommy Nooka. But now...now she stayed on out of devotion to her beloved reptiles. Howard was awe-struck. This woman was fucking perfect.
Before he knew it they were all the way to her house, which was about two hour's walk from the zoo. She had offered him a ride back, but Howard had turned her down, stubborn pride springing into place.
As the cold wind nipped at his fingers, Howard fumbled around for his keys. Unlocking the front door, he stepped quietly into the hut, and was gobsmacked.
The entire place was in ruins! Vince's things lay everywhere, and all of the plates and crockery seemed to have been used and then stacked precariously in the sink. No people were to be seen amid the wreckage, and Howard took a tentative step forward, mouth open in shock. The dressers were all open, clothes strewn about, both his and Vinces'. Hell, even a few of Howard's records were lying about. And dear sweet jesus. The bunk bed was destroyed. The old wooden posts holding up the top bed were broken and splintered, the bottom bed buried underneath the rubble.
In a daze, Howard slowly bent down and began to pick everything up, cleaning the hut as best he could. His mind was at a standstill. He only vaguely wondered where the kid was.
Howard was currently stuffing all of his clothes back into his dresser, to be better organised later, when he heard someone fumble with the door latch. It opened to reveal Vince, who stood in the doorway, staring over at Howard silently with a blank face. Howard rose, and after some hesitation, walked closer to the boy. His bleary eyes and wobbly stance positively screamed 'properly pissed', and Howard grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to the couch, which had been cleared of debris and half-eaten food. He leaned in close to the kid, checking his eyes. He looked almost like he had that one day many weeks ago, when he'd given Howard the fright of his life. Only this time the boy wasn't hungover or ill. The little sod was still high as a kite, Howard could definitely tell.
Vince mutely watched Howard, face blank, as the man stood in front of him and gestured widely with his hands.
"Care to explain why my house is ruined?"
Vince looked around him as though realising where he was for the first time. He then opened his mouth, silence stretching on for a minute before he finally began to speak, voice quiet and scratchy.
"Oh. Um...things...kinda got out of hand."
"Kinda got out of hand? Vince my house is in shambles! What the hell were you lot up to!? God, I knew I never should've trusted you alone. With friends, no less! This is all you ever do, isn't it!?"
Howard was shouting, raising his arms in gesture, and Vince sat forward, anger written across his face as well, though what he said wasn't the retaliation or excuse Howard had expected.
"You were out all night. Did Gideon show up?"
Disarmed slightly, Howard nodded. Vince's voice was still gravelly, though now it seemed even more strained, as he sat back again, tilting his head up at Howard.
"So you were out with her, then? All night long...what'd you do that took all night long?"
Howard felt his anger flash. He didn't like the boy's tone, and he most certainly wasn't going to stand here, put on the spot by this kid! He was the one doing the interrogating! Howard gathered his wits and began questioning Vince once more.
"Vince, tell me what happened here. Our bed is ruined! Now where will we sleep, hmm? And it's going to take ages to completely clean this place. Where were you, anyway? I want you to tell me everything, Vince; the truth, or so help me...answer me!"
Howard leant sharply over the boy, expecting him to flinch like he usually did. Vince, however, only huffed heavily and looked about the room with dilated eyes, hands messing with his shirt.
"We just went out, alright? We got tired of bein' cooped up in 'ere-"
"After you destroyed the place, you mean."
Vince huffed again, closing his eyes and laying his head back, looking a bit sick all of a sudden. He was getting no sympathy off Howard today. The older man stood still, hands on his hips as he waited for the boy to begin talking again. Vince's bright eyes opened once more and his head lolled forward, looking up at Howard. His hands gestured messily as he talked.
"Well-look-...look, alright, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean for everyone to go off their heads, but they did! Scott brought some drinks, and Jeff had these little tablet things. I didn't take one, but I drank loads of that nasty shit Scott had. Before I knew what was happenin', we was all up on the top bunk, and...I don't know, it just broke. Diane was hurt, so we took her to A an' E then we all went out for some more drinks and a guy at the club had some stuff we took. We did tha', an' then I came home. They're all prob'ly a'heir hotel r'mbynow...See? Told you everythin'. Happy?"
The combined sarcastic tone Vince was pulling as well as his increasingly blurred speech had Howard's face doing that strange cynical thing where it's a cross between a grimace and an unhappy smile. Before he could voice another question, Vince was standing up unsteadily, causing Howard to step back a bit to make room.
"So what did you and Gideon get up to? Where'd you go?"
Howard's mind was once again turned to slush at the memory of his previously perfect night out with the woman of his dreams. The words were coming out of him without his consent, his mouth beyond his control.
"We just walked around the town and talked. Then we got some tea, and then I walked her back to her place-"
"Her place? Ahhh, I see...so'hat's it then. You were shaggin' 'er."
Howard felt a jolt of surprise, not only at the words but at Vince's change in expression and the way he tilted his head up at Howard in that manner that Howard was quickly learning meant nothing good. Howard didn't understand. Why was the boy so adamant about bringing up his time with Gideon? And why was he insinuating things he didn't know, and had no right to be asking! What was this rancor he seemed to hold for Gideon, anyway? He didn't even know the woman! Anger flaring back up again, Howard pointed down at the kid.
"What's the matter with you, Vince? I leave you on your own for one night and you've completely fucked everything up! My house is ruined, the bed that I spent my money on is destroyed, and you keep questioning me about my night as if I'm the one on trial! God, why must you always ruin things! That's it, starting now you are growing up fast, Little Man, you hear me!? If I ever see you out with those slimey little sods again I'll fly at you like a bullet! AND NO MORE DRUGS FOR FUCK'S SAKE! YOU'RE SIXTEEN!"
He was definitely waking the animals up with his shouting, but Howard was beyond caring. Vince's own voice came out as a scratchy yell as his face contorted into a rage that matched Howard's own.
"I said I was sorry, Howard! You were supposed to be home by eleven! But instead you go an' fuck that snake cunt-"
Howard slapped Vince hard across the face. He'd been wanting to do that since the little shit stepped through the door; hell, had wanted to for weeks, but had held back until now. Vince glared up at him, not bothering to feel the red mark on the left side of his face, his voice coming out monotoned and low.
"I'm goin' to Leroy's."
"Vince, it's the middle of the night."
"Don't care, 'm leavin'."
Vince moved around the taller man, wobbling toward the door. Howard grabbed him by the arm again, causing him to completely lose his balance and fall onto his knees. Vince's eyes were closed once more and he looked as wrecked as the room around them. Howard decided that they'd talk it out once the teen was sober, and wrapped his arms around the kid's chest. He lifted him up and dragged him to the couch.
The boy didn't resist, simply lay down where Howard left him. Howard grabbed up the duvet from the boy's bed and laid it over him. He then look down at his wristwatch and felt another surge wash over him for the hundredth time that night. It was four in the morning, and they had work in a few hours.
'Shit. Fossil's going to kill us both.'
Howard raked a hand across his face and through his hair. He'd have to inform Fossil that Vince wouldn't be in that day. He should also get some sleep while he could. Instead, Howard found himself wandering into the shower, where he stayed until the water went cold.
Then he slowly moved to his ransacked dresser, shifting though it to find fresh clothes that didn't smell of cigarette smoke. Choosing a white shirt, Howard went through his jeans and slacks before another realisation dawned on him.
"Where are my blue trousers?"
His only answer was Vince snoring from where he lay on his back, head to the side and spit leaking out the corner of his mouth. Watching the kid, Howard admitted to himself that he was quite unnerved by Vince's display earlier. What had come over the boy to make him get so angry with Howard? And over Mrs Gideon? He knew the boy was obviously high off whatever he'd taken that night, but for it to cause that kind of reaction, and to something so simple...
Hours later found Howard donning his Keeper jacket, which was amazingly one of the things left untouched by the carnage. He pulled on a pair of shoes and headed reluctantly out the door, exhausted and dreading the conversation he was about to have with Bob Fossil.
(Yeah, I already explained earlier how reckless Vince is, so don't act all surprised :/ Howard's gonna have to step up his game. Reviews are fuel and my car is running on fumes. Remedy this. Please?)