SANDPEOPLENOISES: Y'all gonna shit yourselves. That is all. (Oh and a big thanks to my loyal reviewer. You know who you are.)
Chapter 29
Howard returned from the kitchen with a mug of tea in his grasp. The windows were open, letting in the refreshing autumn air. Howard breathed it in deeply as he looked over at Vince, the tv buzzing in the background. It had been over a week since the incident with Vince getting lost, and the boy was now much quieter than Howard had ever seen him. He hardly said a word anymore, just scribbled away in his book, which was already over halfway filled. Every time Howard leaned over to get a peek, Vince would close the book and move away from him. This left Howard worried, curious, and a little hurt.
"So...what're you writing? More Charlie adventures?"
"I don't write about Charlie no more."
Howard was surprised by this, even if he was secretly relieved. Vince loved Charlie; had claimed he and the pink blob were best mates. Had scared the pants off of Howard many a night with his "Charlie likes to watch you sleep" schtick. Howard sipped his tea, keeping his tone light as he stared unseeing at the television screen.
"Oh? How come? You and Charlie having a row or something?"
"Sort of. He's been...different, lately."
"Different how?"
Vince didn't elaborate, just resumed his writing. Howard did catch a quick glimpse of the paper as he stood to head back into the kitchen, minutes later. It wasn't writing, as Howard had thought. No, Vince seemed to be drawing. It was very sketchy and scribbled, lines overlapping too many times. If it weren't for the numerous pictures of Charlie that had once adorned their walls (Vince had taken them down two days ago) Howard might not have recognised the drawing.
Howard paced back and forth in the hut, counting down the minutes until Tristan would arrive to pick him up. It was incredibly humiliating for Howard to be the one picked up on the first date, but Tristan had laughed off his apologies, claiming not to mind in the least. Vince wasn't in the hut; Howard had last seen him an hour ago in Bollo's enclosure, spending time with the old ape. His health was declining rapidly, his eyesight now leaving him. Howard felt bad for the poor old gorilla, and even more so for Vince, who seemed not to believe that the aged primate was on his way out. Howard had tried to explain it very carefully to the boy, telling Vince to spend as much time as he wanted with Bollo, and to cherish all the happy memories he had with him.
"Because they can't take those moments away from you," he had said.
Vince had just stared blankly up at the man until Howard raised his hands in defeat and walked off to prepare for his date. He was nervous about leaving Vince alone, remembering vividly the disasters that had taken place the last times he'd left the teen unattended. It was becoming quite a talent of the boy's; wait until Howard goes away and then cause some kind of destruction. So Howard had given the Lodge phone number to Mrs Gideon, asking her to call every now and again to check up on the boy. Gideon had agreed, giving Howard a fond smile.
Hearing a knock at the door, Howard nearly tripped over himself walking to it. He opened the door with a wide smile, taking in the lovely sight of Tristan in a pair of tight jeans and a flowing blue top.
"So, you ready?"
Howard grinned, mumbling out a response as he followed her outside and into her slightly dented black Visa. Howard was quite relieved to note that Tristan seemed as nervous as he was. It took her three attempts to successfully start the engine and put the car in drive. Maybe she was just clumsy. Not that Howard minded in the least.
As the distance between Howard and the zoo gates increased, the man couldn't help but glance back and hope that the kid didn't forget himself and stay with Bollo into the night.
"So, tell me a bit more about yourself."
"Well, what's there to tell...um, you know I work at the Zooniverse. And, uh...there's really nothing else to me."
Tristan laughed, the two of them sitting in a cozy, bright cafe. Howard was rather glad for the change in environment. He'd seen far too many fine restaurants and posh theatres lately.
"Oh come on now, I know there's lots more about you. Like the fact that you're a talented guitarist. And you have a beautiful singing voice, and a creativity to match. And you're a dad."
Howard had been steadily growing a blush over the back of his neck, and on that last sentence of Tristan's he choked on his coffee. His initial instinct to correct the woman yet again was halted, and instead Howard found different words leaving his mouth as he wiped it with a serviette.
"Don't know if I'm much of one. All that boy's gotten into is trouble, again and again. You know what he did at his birthday party earlier this year? He got a load of his little school friends, and they all got pissed and dismantled my house."
Tristan's eyebrows rose, a patient smile still gracing her lips as she listened, and a part of Howard's mind knew he probably shouldn't be airing these personal details like this. But it was so nice, so nice, to be able to vent his long-carried frustrations at someone whom he didn't have to see at work every day. And Tristan seemed so understanding, lightly patting Howard's hand, listening with attentive silence as more flooded from the man before he could really stop himself.
"A-and then there was the time he scared the living life out of me. Went out partying with Naboo, this seedy little shaman at our work, and I wake up in the early hours to find the kid passed out on my floor! And if I thought that was the scariest moment of my life, it was nothing compared to three weeks ago when I lost him in a sodding forest...I tell you, Ms Butler, that kid is determined to kill me through fright and worry alone, I swear it."
Tristan regarded him for a few minutes, and Howard was too winded to really bother worrying what she must think of him. Eventually her smile returned, as well as her hand over his, where it lay, warmth seeping through her glove and into his.
"You know what I think, Howard? I think you're an amazing person. And I think that this boy is very lucky to have someone like you watching over him."
Those words brought more reassurance to Howard's tired mind than he wanted to admit. He supposed he had needed to hear those words from a third-party member, and not just from his own brain.
Mrs. Gideon surprised Howard by walking up to him as he was on his way to the Lodge, lunch hour upon them. She smiled at Howard, but the man noticed her face seemed tense. She looked unsure of what to say, so Howard started the conversation.
"Hello, Mrs Gideon, what's wrong?"
"...It's Vince. I think there might be something the matter with him."
"What do you mean? I only saw him a few hours ago. Has something happened?"
"No no, nothing like that. It's just...well, when you asked me to call Vince last night, during your date...I did call, and Vince picked up the phone. He seemed to be talking with someone just as he answered; I couldn't make out the end of the sentence. And when he heard that it was my voice, he just went quiet. He didn't answer me for several minutes, and then he just hung up! I was worried, so I called back many times, but he never answered again. Was anything wrong when you got back home?"
"No. No, he was fast asleep. Snoring and everything..."
Howard parted ways with Gideon, pondering heavily over what could've been occupying Vince to the point where he'd refuse to answer the phone? Maybe the teen had snuck a friend in while Howard was out, or maybe he'd let in another damn animal. Howard had already caught the boy with a raccoon and then a bat before. The damn raccoon had bitten Howard and the bat had gotten itself tangled in Vince's hair. The boy had almost gone into a fit when Howard teased him about getting it cut.
Once he had his lunch in hand, Howard broke into a quick jog over to their bench, where he found the boy without any food for the eighth day in a row. Frowning, the man sat down, poking the teenager in the shoulder to get his attention. He was still quite introverted, and that had Howard observing him closer than usual. He held up a half of his sandwich he'd made that morning. Vince gave it a glance before shaking his head mutely.
"Take it. C'mon now, Vince, I mean it."
The boy sighed, and grudgingly took the sandwich, taking a small bite every few minutes. Howard was having none of it, and made them both stay on the bench until the kid finished the whole thing off, taking much longer than was necessary, in Howard's opinion. He laid a hand over the boy's forehead, feeling for any sign of a fever. Nothing.
Vince leant out of his touch and went back to staring off in a random direction silently. The two didn't bother walking around, or saying a word.
Howard entered the hut, only to freeze in his tracks. There sitting in a corner was Bollo. The gorilla was in Howard's house. The goddamn gorilla was sitting in Howard's house, beside a guilty-looking Vince.
"Vince-"
"Shh! Please, Howard! Naboo told me he heard Bainbridge tellin' Fossil to 'ave Bollo put down! We have to hide him here, please!"
Howard hadn't moved from the doorway, body rigid in fright. The gorilla was out of his cage. He was loose. Once he got wind of the men in this zoo, namely Howard, he'd go on a rampage.
"Vince, that is not a cat. It is a very large gorilla, who is going blind as well as deaf. He hates men with a passion, now put. Him. Back!"
"No!"
"Then I'll just go and find Fossil."
"Please, Howard, I'll hide him in the bathroom. He won't go nowhere near you. And when you need in there you just get me, and I'll bring 'im out here. See, it'll be easy! Look, he's not even bein' aggressive at you."
It was true, Bollo very clearly was aware of Howard, and yet sat completely docile at Vince's side. Howard supposed it was the fact that he couldn't see as well anymore. Cautiously, Howard took a few steps forward, ready to bolt at the slightest sudden move. Bollo sniffed the air, looked in Howard's direction, and went back to fiddling with the chains on Vince's jacket, as he always did. Howard let out a slow breath, deciding to just leave them both be for the night, and get Fossil in the morning. Besides, Howard hadn't seen Vince this aware and lively in too long, and if that meant sleeping with a gorilla locked in the toilet, well then...just call Howard desperate.
Something about having a man-loathing gorilla in the Lodge kept Howard awake into the early hours of morning, even as the snores of both Vince and the ape filled the air. Howard finally dozed off, and awoke later to the sounds of feet moving across the floor. Turning over, he watched Vince go into the bathroom, where Howard could hear him speaking quietly to Bollo. Howard was incredibly surprised at how completely obedient and calm the ape behaved. The next morning Howard ordered Vince to return Bollo to his exhibit, promising the boy that he'd go to Fossil and find out if the ape really was going to be put down.
"Mr. Fossil, could I have a word?"
Bob nodded at Howard, who then fully entered the room. The two men stared in silence for a few moments before Howard found the right words.
"Um, I ah, heard that you planned on having Bollo put to sleep. Is this true?"
"Yeah. Look, I know it's sad and all that crap, but the guy's old. Really old. And old things don't bring in customers. So next Sunday he's gettin' the shot."
"...Oh. I see. Good day, then, Fossil."
"Yeah, yeah."
Howard left the building and spent the entire time before lunch deliberating over how to break the news to Vince. By the time he had his lunch and was sitting down beside the teenager, Howard had made his mind up. He looked over at the kid, who he noted with worry didn't have anything to eat, again.
"Spoke with Fossil earlier."
Vince straightened at this, face and voice both anxious.
"And?"
Howard cleared his throat to give himself a moment, then looked Vince directly in the eyes, and lied to him.
"He said Naboo must've heard wrong. Bollo's not going to be put down. Fossil was just joking about it, is all. You know Fossil's sick sense of humor..."
Vince was visibly relieved, and let out a long breath. That's when Howard caught the smell of smoke lingering on the kid. Bloody hell, the boy had been smoking again. The entire rest of the free hour comprised of Howard once again drilling threats and orders into the boy's head. Vince didn't even bother smiling this time; not even a smirk. Howard eventually trailed off into worried silence once more.
Tristan surprised Howard the next day by showing up at lunch hour with food of her own. She treated the whole affair like a picnic, draping a light red blanket across the ground in front of the bench. Howard gladly joined her in sitting down upon it. He beckoned Vince to sit with them as well, but the boy remained in his spot above them on the bench, knees drawn up and no food to be seen. Again. Howard put this thought aside for now and gestured between Vince and Tristan, realising they had never been properly introduced.
"Uh, Vince, this is Tristan. Tristan, Vince."
Tristan smiled up at Vince, who was mutely picking at his jacket sleeve. Suddenly, the woman's eyes brightened in recognition.
"Oh! So you're Howard's kid. I remember you from the restaurant that night. How old are you, Vince?"
Both males' heads swung to face Tristan when she'd called Vince Howard's kid, and Howard felt himself blush horribly. He also couldn't help but feel the slight happy tingle run over him every time someone called Vince his kid, as many of the zoo staff were doing more and more. Vince didn't seem to share in the happy tingle. He simply tilted his head slightly at Tristan.
"I'm twenty-six."
Howard sighed into his thermos, while Tristan smiled, obviously not buying Vince's false age. Howard shot a reprimanding look the kid's way. Why'd he always insist on telling everyone he was Howard's age!?
"Vince, we've been through this a thousand times. You can't go telling everyone you're my age. I'm twenty-six, you're sixteen."
"We're the same age."
"Vince-"
"No no, it's alright. He's just having a little fun with his imagination, right? No harm in that."
Howard was relieved that Tristan had taken Vince's embarrassing weirdness in stride, smiling at her as she spoke. The two of them proceeded to talk the hour away, and before leaving Tristan placed a quick kiss on Howard's cheek with an invitation to go on a date that coming Saturday. Grinning like a fool, Howard looked up toward the bench, finding it empty.
Saturday came upon Howard fast; much too fast. He wasn't ready for this. A second date was far more significant than the first, in Howard's opinion. It meant that you hadn't completely botched the first attempt, and was rewarded with a second try. And a second try meant that you had to try harder not to ruin the date. And Howard did try hard, or tried to try.
Truth be told, the man's mind was escaping him throughout the entire dinner. He just couldn't stop worrying over Vince. The boy was still in his own little bubble, barely acknowledging Howard anymore, spending all of his free time with Bollo. He didn't even show up at their bench for lunch the rest of the week, and Howard spent the three days before Saturday standing by the ape enclosure, watching the boy as he spoke with the old primate.
Trying desperately to spark up a conversation, Howard had asked the boy what he and Bollo were talking about so often. The teen had spouted some abstract nonsense involving a banana horse, and Howard had given up.
Tristan was nothing but patient and understanding during the entire dinner, brushing off Howard's repeated apologies every time he was found to not be listening to her or failed to answer a question.
'I really don't deserve to be on a date with a woman this wonderful. God I wish Vince would just tell me what's wrong already! First thing I'm doing when I get home tonight is cornering that little bastard until he talks.'
"-Howard? Howard?"
The man's head snapped up from where he'd been staring down at his half-eaten plate. Tristan once again was smiling across from him.
"Oh, I'm so, so sorry again, Ms Butler."
"Howard, I've told you. Just call me Tristan, please...hey, why don't we go?"
"Oh no, I didn't mean to ruin your night-"
"You haven't, we'll go back to my apartment and have some tea, alright?"
Howard had to admit, maybe a quiet environment would help to still his tossing and turning mind. The man nodded, and paid for their food before the two of them hopped back into Tristan's car and made for her house. It was only a ten minute drive before they pulled into a small tower block. Tristan showed Howard up to the first floor, where her flat was.
It was every bit as small as the woman had described, and Howard could see that she was slightly embarrassed at having him see it. It was cozy, though. Soft and inviting with a few old university texts cluttered on a small table. Tristan hastily moved about the room, stuffing undergarments into dressers as discreetly as possibly, stacking her books on top of each other and turning a nervous grin Howard's way.
The man gave her a reassuring smile in return, and soon the two were sat on her small sofa in front of her tiny television, warm cups in hand. How that led to snogging Howard wasn't entirely certain, but he didn't dare argue with his good fortune as their cups sloshed as they were set hastily on the floor. When kissing advanced into Tristan pushing Howard onto his back was when he felt the first spikes of nerves racing up his arms. His mind wasn't mush, like it was whenever he'd visualised such moments of romance. No, it sped up, thought strings becoming a whirlwind in his head, making it spin relentlessly. What he could make out clearly was something along the lines of 'Holy fuck is this happening shit she's so pretty christ I can't do this don't stop!' and Howard's breath increased to match as he felt small fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt, lips still firmly moving against his own.
Howard let out a string of humiliating mumbles and moans that thankfully Tristan didn't stop to translate. Everything seemed to be moving so quickly, and Howard was without a shirt before he could fully register what was going on. Tristan had removed hers as well, and the man felt quite like a two-year-old when his eyes fixed themselves on the far wall. He felt rather than heard Tristan laugh against him, trailing kisses along his jaw. How could such a simple thing feel like fire, he wondered.
'But this is only our second date isn't this not right I really shouldn't be oh wow she's lovely shit that feels nice wait stop she'll know I won't be any good damn fuck shit!'
A sudden rush of cold chilled Howard's front, and he looked up to see Tristan standing beside the couch, removing the rest of her clothing. Now he couldn't move his eyes off her. He felt like such a bloody pervert, but it must've been alright because Tristan was once again on top of him, kissing him insistently. Feeling her hands over his own, Howard allowed Tristan to guide them up and onto her breasts. Howard left them frozen there, afraid to move them but also afraid to take them away. He felt he had to tell Tristan, to let her know that he was really no good at this.
"Um, Tristan, um. I'm- I mean I'm...I've never done this before."
Tristan paused, lifting her head to look down at him. Howard braced himself for taunts, laughing and/or rejection. What he got was a wet kiss on the cheek and a sharp poke on the arm.
"Oh Howard! I don't give a shit! Now are you gonna lie there like a statue or are we gonna shag?"
The abruptness of her words had Howard feeling both terrified and elated. He didn't have long to bask in this feeling of acceptance, because Tristan promptly unbuttoned his trousers and began yanking them and his pants down around his ankles. Howard immediately scrambled up, bringing his knees close before he could get a handle on himself. Tristan regarded him for several moments before sighing.
"Howard if you don't wanna do this, we don't have to."
Howard wanted to say yes. He dearly wanted to say yes, leave, and pretend this never happened. But he didn't want to pretend this wasn't happening. This was happening! He was finally with a beautiful woman who fancied him, and they were fucking going to have sex for christ's sake!
"N-no, it's fine. I'm just uh, just nervous."
"Well that's alright."
Tristan smiled at Howard, and began slowly inching back over to him, until they were sitting side by side. She then leant up against him, head laying on his shoulder. The sight reminded Howard of how Vince was always cuddling up against him, and Howard sharply threw that line of thought out of his head before it caused him to loose the mood completely. It was almost comfortable, sitting like this, tv still humming, despite the fact that they were both stark naked.
Soon Howard was coaxed back into kissing, and this time Tristan grabbed him by the shoulders until she was the one on the cushions, Howard hovering nervously above her. He was afraid to put his hands on her; afraid of what might hurt her. He really didn't want to fuck things up.
Tristan once again guided his hands, leading one to rest on her stomach and the other on the sofa for support. Howard was becoming quite confident and comfortable in their new position, right up until Ms Butler dove a hand of her own down between them and grasped Howard's half-hard penis firmly. He wasn't proud of the girly yelp, or the fact that Tristan burst into a fit of laughter for over a minute.
Finally catching her breath, Tristan proceeded to steal Howard's away from him with the small but oh so delightful movements of her hand. Howard's eyes closed and he didn't even want to think about the weird faces he must be pulling. Of course he only lasted a few more seconds before coming all over Tristan's hand and abdomen.
Face aflame, Howard sat up on his knees, Tristan following suit.
"I'm sorry, I uh-"
"It's alright, Howard. It's to be expected, really. If you'd've lasted any longer than that I'd have called you a liar about the whole virgin thing."
"...Really?"
"Really, now get over here."
Tristan dragged Howard over to her bed, where she practically threw him onto his back, hips aligning with Howard's as she ground down onto him. The man didn't think it was possible but he felt himself becoming hard again, and Tristan dove to steal quick kisses in between heated thrusts. Howard could feel his spunk smearing between them, and tried not to demand a shower.
Suddenly Tristan stopped, and Howard couldn't help but buck upward to try and achieve that unbelievable friction. Shifting higher onto her knees, Tristan adjusted her hips a bit, one hand reaching down to grasp Howard's penis again. When Howard felt the first touches of wet warmth against the head he gulped in a deep breath, as though he were being submerged entirely in the ocean.
His breath then immediately left him as it was forced from his lungs by the incredible sensation. Tristan sat completely still for a few seconds, and Howard's hands found her waist on instinct, gripping tightly and pulling her forward a bit. She let out a breathy moan to match Howard's and began to slowly rock back and forth, hips rising and falling ever so slightly.
Her nails were digging painfully into Howard's chest, but he didn't bother to consider it as his head dug back into the pillow beneath him, knees coming up slightly as their pace quickened.
Once again, Howard came within minutes, and Tristan lifted up off of him with a sigh and lay down on the bed. Howard felt utterly terrible, and made to apologise once again. Tristan put a hand over his mouth (thankfully not the one with the remnants of spunk).
"Howard, shut up. You're marvelous. And trust me, I'm not gonna let you quit 'til I'm done with you."
Feeling sparks of lust run over his skin, Howard returned Tristan's smirk with a grin and decided to make the first move this time. He wrapped his arms around her back and kissed her long and hard, moving to trail his lips down her neck and freckling over her shoulders.
This was going to be a long night.
Howard blearily beheld a sleeping Tristan. The night had indeed been long, and now it was two hours past midnight.
The two of them were lying in bed, duvet crumpled on the floor, sheet draped over them for light warmth in the heated air. Howard was just about to fall asleep himself when he suddenly rocketed into a sitting position.
'Vince!'
Oh no. He wasn't supposed to go to Tristan's flat! He was supposed to be home! Howard quickly rose from the bed, trying to be quiet, and searched about in the darkness for a phone.
He finally found one on the kitchen wall, and hastily dialed the number for the Lodge. As the phone rang and rang Howard stood in the silence, worry pulsing through him. And after nearly five minutes of no one answering, Howard relented with a great long sigh. The boy was doing exactly what Gideon had told him earlier that week. And he was probably angry that Howard hadn't returned when he'd said he would.
Resolving to apologise profusely in the morning, Howard crawled back under the light sheet, drifting in and out of sleep before eventually surrendering to blurred dreams.
Howard entered the Lodge as the sun began to rise. He felt incredibly guilty about leaving Vince alone all night. But then again, he had tried to call. And what a night. What a night.
Howard didn't bother turning on a light, not wanting to wake Vince just yet. There were still a few hours before they had to get ready for work. Howard shook off his shoes and padded over to the centre of the room, leaning over their sleeping bags in order to check on Vince. His hand reached out on its own accord, moving to rest where he imagined the boy's head would be. The blankets dipped under the weight of Howard's hand, and the man paused in confusion before pulling them back. Vince was nowhere to be seen. Howard immediately looked toward his own bed. Nothing. He swiveled in the darkness to peer over at the sofa. Barren.
Howard stepped toward the toilet door, opening it as worry seeped through his pores. He wasn't greeted with big blue eyes, but beady black ones, connected to a large hairy frame, and sharp yellowed teeth. Bollo was once again in their hut. Only this time, Howard was alone. And Bollo didn't seem at all docile.
Howard backed up slowly as the gorilla stared directly at him, teeth bared. Bollo suddenly leant forward, standing up to full height, head bumping the low ceiling. Instinct took over; Howard bolted. He made it as far as four strides before the gorilla was on him, flinging him this way and that in the kitchen. Howard heard the thundering of crockery and pots being strewn about, some making contact with him, leaving sharp stinging sensations across his body. He then felt himself being dragged along the floor by his right arm. His entire body was limp despite his mind's frantic red alerts for him to get up! Get up and run!
He was again being flung about like a ragdoll, this time in the main room. Howard could tell by his blurred visage of the sofa, and the sound of the tv shattering. Howard knew somewhere in his mind, distantly, that he was going to die now. He was going to be beaten to death by Bollo. And Vince would find him here, probably in pieces. His heart ached sharply, and then there was nothing.