Fate
Chapter 6
"So what did you do after getting fired from Disney?" Skippy asked. After his notions towards Slappy had changed he found that she was a really cool and fun person with quite a few stories to tell. Every evening when they sat down for dinner she'd always keep the silence at bay with her tales. It was quite a sight, seeing her so full of youth as she'd reenact some of the scenes for him, demonstrating quick-changes and wild takes. One night he had actually jumped out of his table seat and tried to perform a quick-change with her but ended up tripping over his tail and landing on his face. Slappy helped him back up and dinnertime turned into an extra practice session as she walked him through the process. It was fun and he'd actually seen some results, but they ended up having to reheat dinner and sleep in the next morning due to staying up so late.
"Well, Warner Brothers called me up a week later and said they wanted me to come in and audition."
"Really, even after you put Mickey in traction?"
"Yep, in fact that's how they got a lot of their talent." Slappy chuckled and started eating.
Skippy stared down at the food, which didn't look very appetizing. His aunt may have had several similarities to his mom, but her cooking skills certainly weren't one of them. Still, he shoveled it down in what was probably an award-deserving performance, just so she wouldn't feel offended. "So, has Linda called today?" he asked between bites. Slappy shook her head and he resumed eating, but only for a second. "Anything in the mail from her?" he pressed.
"Kid, stop thinking about it or you're gonna drive yourself crazy."
Skippy dropped his fork onto the plate and gave up the charade of joyfully eating. "Oh right, let me just push that thought of being adopted and sent to some strange family out of my head. So how about the weather?" he asked with a cheery voice and smile.
"I'm sorry, but sometimes life isn't fair and we don't get what we want."
"You think I haven't learned that yet?" he asked, throwing his arms in the air.
"No, you know it better than anyone your age should, but when life changes there's nothing we can do about it but roll with it."
"This isn't life choosing, it's you. If you wanted to you could just call Linda back and tell her you'd like to keep me." Skippy jumped out of the chair and shoved it into the table before storming off to his room. Slappy winced as she heard his door slam shut upstairs. She briefly considered trying to continue eating, but found that her appetite was long gone. The grey squirrel laid her elbows on the table and held her head in her hands, trying to stay calm. Her nephew was a great kid, in fact he was the only kid she ever actually enjoyed being around. She wasn't sure if it was because he was an archtoon as well, or if it was because they were no strangers to tragedy, but she liked him. That was why she didn't yell back, why she didn't act upon her bitter nature. Above all though, it was why she knew she couldn't keep him.
He needed more than a grouchy, old, irresponsible squirrel to take care of him. He needed a father-figure to answer the questions she couldn't, a mom that actually knew how to cook and show affection, and some kids his own age to play with. If he stayed with her all he'd get were somewhat edible meals and a bitter and angry guardian. And while all these cons did stack up, the pros had as well. She was the only family he had left and it made sense to stay together, to balance each other out and accept both as the broken pieces they had become. Plus, who would teach him how to properly use his archtoon abilities? He was progressing well, but without her he would never reach his full potential. So when it came down to it she knew the right thing to do was to fight the urge to slam her head into the table a few dozen times. It wouldn't solve anything and her head was suffering enough at the moment, but she was frustrated enough to consider it.
Skippy sat on the edge of his bed, practicing his hammerspace abilities over and over again in the glow of the fireplace. Since sharing that moment with Slappy a few weeks ago, the young squirrel found that his techniques were rapidly improving. He could now grab his mallet whenever he wanted to, and was even starting to mess around with the size of it. It could be no larger than a fist or bigger than a ceiling fan, all on a simple whim. There were other things to grab from hammerspace, like anvils or bombs, but he was still learning those maneuvers. That was fine though because for the moment his mallet was more than enough to entertain him. Unfortunately he had done this enough times that his mind was free to wander as he continued.
While he had made progress with his aunt, she still didn't want him. If he truly meant so much to her, why was she refusing to adopt him? Was she simply lying to him, about caring or was there some other piece of her history that he was unaware of? And why did she have to make it so hard to be mad at her? And how was there a fireplace in a house made out of wood? That last one wasn't as important but he still wanted to know. Well at least it was nice to look at, even if it did raise some impossibility. Skippy pushed off the bed and moved closer to the fire, grabbing an iron fire-poker and pushing the wooden logs around. It crackled and popped as embers danced about. He set the poker back against the wall and sat on the floor a couple feet away, hugging his knees to his chest.
Slappy knocked on his door, not waiting for any response before she entered. "Hey Skippy," she greeted, taking a seat beside him in front of the fireplace.
"Hi Aunt Slappy," he replied unenthusiastically, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. "Sorry about that, I didn't mean to get on your nerves."
"Yeah, well I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have snapped at ya Skip-O, but . . ."
"Yeah?" Skippy asked after her pause became unbearable.
"Well, I ain't used to not knowing what ta do. I'm always the squirrel with a plan, two steps ahead of everyone at all times. But I don't know what to do with you, and even though I can't stop thinking about it I haven't accomplished anything."
Skippy cheered up as he learned of Slappy's inner conflict, excited to find some hope for once. "Well, maybe I can help?" he offered, turning to her. "Do you really care about me?" he asked. She nodded her head, eyes fixed to the ground. "Then don't leave me."
"It's not that simple Skippy." And with that his hope died as quickly as it formed.
The brown squirrel stood up and stretched, bending down and closing the glass doors on the hearth. "Right, well we both know your answer then. I'm tired so could you leave now?" he trudged into bed and pulled the blanket up to his neck despite the warm temperature of the room, hiding his face from her. Slappy complied and moved to the door, turning to him one last time and opened her mouth before deciding that her nephew had had enough words for one night. She stepped into the hall and closed the door, shuffling towards her room as she felt the weight of knowing that she'd have to make up her mind soon and of the consequences that were going to follow. One thing that she wasn't torn over was her anger towards Walter. If it wasn't for him and his idiotic anecdote she never would have taken Skippy in. Sure, a little guilt would have been the price she paid, but it would've been better than this.
Upstairs, Slappy sat in her bed. She was debating on whether she should call Walter at this time of night, or even if he should be forced into being burdened with it. She knew her mind was aching something good and Walter's probably would too. She stifled a laugh at the notion of not wanting to annoy Walter, even though her paychecks often come from causing him bodily harm and mental duress. Slappy ended up reaching for the phone and quickly dialing his number, knowing at the very least she needed someone to talk to, even if it didn't get her the answer she wanted or needed. It rang several times before she heard the wolf's raspy voice answer, showing signs of having just been awakened. "Hello?"
"Walter, we need to talk."
"You mishugina squirrel! Do you have any idea what time it is?" he shouted into the phone, losing all traces of drowsiness. "This is the second time in the last two weeks! You better have a good reason for this or I'm blocking your calls again."
"It's the kid, Skippy." She sighed at the mention of his name and brought her free hand to her face, rubbing her forehead.
"Is he okay?" Walter asked, the aggression in his voice replaced by worry.
"Yeah, he's fine."
There was a long silence before Walter replied. "Okay, so what's wrong then?"
"I just . . . I'm confused Walter."
"They eat food, just like you and me."
Slappy laughed, finding the tension of the situation momentarily eased. "You know at your age I was hoping ya'd gotten better material Walter."
"At least mine's new, you've relied on bombs and mallets since the start of the cold war. So if he's okay what's the problem?"
"Ya gotta promise to not make a big deal out of this before I tell ya." He made some noise that resembled a confirmation and she groaned. "Fine, good enough I guess. It's just that I don't know what I should do Walter. I really do like this kid and part of me is saying I should hold onto him, but at the same time I don't think I can."
She could practically hear Walter sit up in his bed, "That's great!" he shouted. "Well, not great. Why don't you know if you should keep him?"
"Don't ya think he needs more than some old, grouchy squirrel to lean on right now?"
"Well, I suppose." Slappy's jaw dropped as that answer resonated with her. She hadn't expected Walter to agree with her, and to be honest it was the first time the wolf had actually caused her pain. "But I can tell you that an old, grouchy squirrel is much better than a bunch of strangers. You're all the kid has left Slappy, and probably the only person that's going through the same thing. So what if you groan when you get out of a chair, or throw a bomb when someone messes up your food order?" he questioned, waiting for her response.
"But I'm not good for the kid, if he stays with me he might end up as bitter as I am."
"And if you send him away then you'll pretty much destroy the only family not only you but he has left."
"Yeah, but -"
"I'm tired, so stop reaching for problems and let's do a little test. Just clear your mind for a second, one single second." Walter instructed.
Slappy took a deep breath and pushed every last thought away, leaving nothing but the wonder of what Walter's plan was. "Okay, and?"
"It's Christmas morning and you walk downstairs, what do you see?"
"Are we really doing this Walter?"
"Yes. What do you see?" the wolf repeated. There was no answer and for a second Walter thought the squirrel might've hung up. "Alright, was Skippy there?"
"Yes," Slappy groaned.
"Now how about Halloween?"
"I get it Walter, no need to hammer the plot home for me. But that's what I want, not what this kid needs."
"He needs someone who understands, and that's you."
Slappy resumed her silence and, deciding that Walter had never steered her wrong, bit her lip before coming to the biggest decision she'd ever make. "I . . . I can't get rid of the kid, can I?"
"Nope, and all it took was waking me up in the middle of the night to make you do something you could've thought up yourself. Yay!" he cheered through a yawn.
"Well, at least the kid's a genius." She added, lying down across her bed. "He's an archtoon, youngest I've ever met. We actually just started working on spin-changing."
"See, you're already bragging about him. Wait, he's an archtoon? You wasted my time asking me if you were what this kid needed and didn't tell me he was an archtoon?"
"Yeah, why?" she asked.
"Don't ever call me again." And with that she heard a click as Walter hung up. She shrugged and actually laughed, puzzled how Walter could make even the hardest of things so simple. She'd have to ask him about that later but for now all she could do was smile, a feeling of happiness washing over her. There was some indescribable sensation that came with making an important decision and feeling it was the right choice, and she was experiencing it now. She hoped Skippy was still awake, but that didn't matter because she was probably going to run in there and scream in joy regardless. Heck, Skippy had plenty of time to sleep in his room now, why not waste a night and just celebrate such a great turn of events?
She practically skipped to her nephew's room, finding more joy as she continued to call it his room. She'd have to get him some toys for that box in the corner, and maybe a little T.V. and game system, and clothes to fill that large closest. She was actually anxious to get to all these plans rather than finding them overwhelming. Was it too late to call Linda and tell her that she was right? Well that one could actually wait for the morning because she hated admitting she was wrong, though it probably wouldn't be as bad this time. Slappy pushed the door open and prepared to shout the news as loud as she could, but her lungs failed her when she discovered nothing but an empty bed where a young squirrel should've been sleeping.
Skippy somehow found that sleep didn't sound appealing, and staring at the ceiling wasn't how he was willing to spend his night. A nice walk in the park seemed much more appealing and less stuffy than his room. Silently he closed the door behind him, making sure it wasn't locked. He didn't want his aunt noticing he wasn't in bed and knocking on the door to be let in wasn't exactly subtle. He turned left and walked to the sidewalk, presented with two different paths. He could once again go left and walk deeper into the park or right where he would quickly exit into the city. He chose left and began marching down the path illuminated by the lamps. It was relaxing to feel the nice cool breeze hit his fur as he walked against it and the crickets chirping in no particular pattern seemed wonderful.
She doesn't want to keep me. Alright, but why? What is it about me that she doesn't like? Is it because I can do these archtoon things because that's her fault, not mine. I could barely grab my mallet before we met, so it can't be that. Is it because I remind her of my mom? I can't help that, but if it really is a problem I guess I could dye my fur. Blonde's a good color, and I think I could pull it off if I absolutely have to. What else? Is it just me in general, am I broken now? Am I not good enough for her? Maybe it's because she isn't good with kids? But that's not right. She's been nothing but amazing these past few days, attentive and calm and patient. Sure, her cooking skills could use a little work, but she seems like she'd make a great caregiver.
Skippy glanced up from the ground he'd been staring at, unaware of where he was. He'd roamed off the sidewalk long ago and now stood in front of a small lake, one that reflected the moon and street lamps in its dark blue pools. He sat down on the grass and just stayed there for a while, staring into the water and just admiring the perfect reflection. It was a simplistic little thing that he never actually appreciated, and maybe that's what he should have learned from his mom's passing. There was no telling how long he truly had with anything, so maybe he should try to appreciate it while he had the opportunity to, even if it was something as simple as a peaceful night and a beautifully blue lake. Or perhaps it was getting the opportunity to meet someone that he could truly connect with, even if it was only for a few weeks. The young squirrel pondered this as he started drifting to sleep.
Slappy kept from panicking, aware that she had made this mistake the first morning he'd stayed there. She turned back into the hall and glanced at the bathroom door, finding it wide open with the lights off. She walked downstairs, knowing she'd find him in the kitchen cooking. Unfortunately that too was empty and barren, untouched from when she left it a few hours ago. Now the panic that Slappy had prolonged came back in force, her mind immediately filling with grotesque little scenarios and questions. Had he runaway after their fight, or perhaps he was kidnapped? Okay, so the former was obviously more plausible, but she still had to cover every corner. If he did run off then it couldn't have been very long ago. She'd only spent ten minutes on the phone with Walter, if even that. So by this logic he was still pretty close to the house, maybe even within shouting distance if she was lucky. She wasted no time rushing out the door, barely remembering to shut it behind her. "Skippy!" she shouted, cupping her hand in front of her mouth as a weak makeshift megaphone. The grey squirrel looked in every direction, wondering if Skippy would have went into the city or deeper into the park. Slappy turned to the city and marched on, looking left and right for her nephew.
"Hey kid, what're you doing here?" a new voice asked. Skippy awakened, yawning and stretching. He rubbed his eyes and glanced up at a dark mallard that may or may not have been a grown adult, it was too dark to actually tell. The young squirrel rose off the ground, finding the duck standing a couple of feet above him.
"Just fell asleep for a second, I'm okay."
"I wasn't asking if you were okay," the duck elaborated, trying to sound intimidating. Skippy was unimpressed, finding that this mallard was actually just a duckling looking for a fight. "At night this is my lake."
"Right, well you have a very nice lake." Skippy said, nodding his head to the body of water. "A lot better than my lake, well it's more of a pond really. Still a very fine pond though, gets the job done."
"You trying to be smart Squirrel?" the aggressive fowl asked.
"Not trying, no." Skippy flashed his teeth in an innocent little smile before taking a deep breath. "Listen, sorry if I'm a little snarky right now but I'm going through a lot in my life. So we can both shake hands and introduce ourselves or I can just be on my way." The young squirrel held out his hand in a friendly manner, wondering if this equally young mallard would ease off before he got hurt. He wasn't hoping for it though. Sadly the duck did oblige, taking Skippy's hand and shaking it politely, but only at first. Before the squirrel knew what was happening he was being pulled over the mallard's body and slammed into the ground. The grass did soften the blow, but he could feel some blades stuck between his two buckteeth.
Skippy groaned as he rose once again rose from the ground, spitting the grass and dirt out of his mouth. "You see, I was actually hoping you'd do that." Skippy felt his tail being pulled on and quickly turned around, bringing a mallet down on his attacker's webbed foot so quickly that it surprised both of them. The mallard let out a loud yelp as he started hopping around, gripping his injured foot in the air. Skippy glanced at his mallet in wide-eyed amazement, glad to find that he was now using it instinctively. The young squirrel debated on whether another slam, this time located at the head, was required. He shook it off as too mean and returned the wooden instrument to hammerspace before offering a steady hand for the duck to grab onto. "Here, take it for balance." The mallard stopped jumping about as his foot returned to firm ground, swelled to a bright red bump.
"You little rodent!" the duck shouted, grabbing the fur of Skippy's chest and lifting him off the ground. The young squirrel did not struggle, his arms and legs hanging limply as an unimpressed expression glazed his face. The mallard pulled his free hand back, preparing to launch it at Skippy's face.
"Wait!" he shouted, moments before his face could be introduced to the fist. The duck hesitated, hand staying firmly in place. Skippy gulped and wondered what his aunt would've done in this situation. He was not his aunt though, obvious when he didn't take the opportunity to strike another blow with his mallet. Still, imitating her would probably be a good decision at this time. The brown squirrel cleared his mind and pictured just what he wanted to grab from hammerspace before placing his hand behind his back. "Can't we just make up and be friends?" he asked, pulling his hand back to reveal a bouquet of flowers. The duck was visibly confused at the offering, leaning his face closer in what could be called idiotic curiosity. Skippy turned his head to the side and closed his eyes, waiting for the large boom to follow.
Slappy walked back into the park, pausing at her house to see if any light was on. Sighing, she leaned against the tree and tried to fight the tears of distraught forming in the corner of her eyes. Her nephew could be so very far away by now and every second she didn't find him made her question her ability to take care of the kid on a permanent basis. Why did he have to sneak out this of all nights, right when she'd made the decision they both wanted? Maybe she should just give up and call the police, put out flyers of the kid and offer rewards for finding him?
And then there was the boom. Loud and attention grabbing as it brightened up the night sky off in the not-too-distant distance. Slappy smiled, aware that the only other archtoon in the area went by the name of Skippy Squirrel. Excitement and happiness was replaced by fear as she couldn't recall teaching him anything on explosives, especially the more challenging ones that came purely from being formed in hammerspace rather than being placed there. Had Skippy harmed himself in some test to prove his abilities? Or was he trying to defend himself against some attacker? It was the middle of the night and he was a small, seemingly defenseless child out on his own. The grey squirrel moved faster than she knew she could as she sprinted off towards the lake.
Skippy opened his eyes, glad to find that the flowers exploded into the duck's face and left him untouched. The mallard dropped Skippy on the ground and fell over, a look of pain on his soot covered face. The young squirrel glanced at the tattered remains of the bouquet in his hand, everything but the handle a mess. "Skippy!" he heard from behind the trees. Would Slappy be angry at him? Well yes, he did sneak out and had worried her. But would she be mad that he used his talents to defend himself against an ordinary toon? Or what about doing something as stupid as pulling explosives out of hammerspace when he had no prior experience? He looked down at the duck not much older than himself, who had momentarily passed out, his tongue hanging outside his mouth as he muttered some unintelligible gibberish. This did not make for a good picture.
Slappy ran past the trees and found her nephew standing over a duck, who had obviously just been the victim of a bomb. She spotted the broken bouquet clutched in his hand and was relieved that he hadn't harmed himself, not to mention a little proud that he had pulled it off. "Uh, hi Aunt Slappy," he waved at her and gave a nervous smile. "This is my friend . . . the mallard." He gestured to the fowl passed out on the ground, only now remembering that they had not exchanged names. Slappy remained quiet, frightening the victorious child more than the bully could ever hope to. "I'm sorry about him, but I didn't mean to get into a fight. I was just lying down in front of this lake and he said it was his and I mocked him a little, not too much but still. Anyway I tried to apologize and he got angry and I was just defending myself and –"
Slappy wrapped him in her arms and hugged him, cutting off his long-winded sentence. He lost the ability to breathe as she squeezed him. Was this his punishment, being strangled to death with love? "Skip-O, I'm proud of ya." She released him from her tight grip and let him catch his breath. "But if you ever sneak out of your room again I am grounding you for a year." She rubbed his head affectionately and took joy in the slow realization that formed on his face.
"Wait . . . no. You're just saying that, right?" he asked, waiting for her to nod. She didn't and he began to fear that maybe he was still asleep on the ground, or maybe the duck had landed that punch to the face and he had passed out. Was his victory entirely in his mind? It was certainly a possibility, hell it was a strong one. How could he have managed to pull out explosive flowers? Or was this the storm breaking or the sun rising or some other metaphor about a situation that got better over time? It did have to happen sometime, and with his recent bad luck maybe he was just getting an extra helping this night. Skippy shook his head and tried to hold back the tears in his eyes, but there was no fighting this one. He smiled and sobbed a little, probably making Slappy uncomfortable. He collected himself a few seconds later and wiped at his eyes. "So was it scaring you to death that changed your mind?"
"Well I did get a little support from my friend Walter."
"Remind me to send him a basket of acorns." Skippy glanced down at the duck again, who was finally beginning to stir. He would never be aware of the small role he'd played in one of Skippy's proudest moments. That didn't matter as this kid wasn't someone the young squirrel saw himself befriending later in life for obvious reasons. "Should I apologize to him?"
"Nah! Kid had it coming. Heck, you might've taught him a valuable lesson?" she suggested. "Besides, you should meet his father. Real run of the mill hacks that's always good for a laugh. So what's say we head home and get some sleep? I don't know about you but I've had a pretty stressful night." She turned away from the lake and started walking back to the house.
Skippy chased after her, "Night? Try living the past two weeks of my life and get back to me on what stress means."
"Yeah yeah, well at least you don't have to call that Linda woman tomorrow and tell her she was right."
"You didn't have to deal with her for three days."
"Alright, I'll give you that one. How about arthritis?"
"Orphan?"
"Lumbago?"
"No idea what that one is, but I'm sure it can't trump orphan."
"Yeah well until you find out what it means you can't be sure."
Slappy huffed, carrying the last box up the stairs. Skippy ran out of his room and helped her before she reached the top, taking a lot of the strain out of it. "Is this the last one?" he asked. Slappy nodded, unaware that her nephew couldn't see her over the box. "Huh?"
"Yeah, last one. Why do you have so many toys anyway?" she questioned as they slowly inched into his newly decorated room. "When I was your age all I needed was a stick, a hoop, and a cardboard cutout of Marlon Brando."
"How did you find the time to play with toys when you had to fend off the dinosaurs?" he teased.
"Well feeding them little squirrel boys seemed to entertain them." They dropped the box in front of his toy chest and Slappy took a breather on the edge of his while he unpacked. "So how's this room feel now that it ain't so empty?" she asked, glancing from him kneeling in front of the box to all the various little posters and pictures he'd hung up.
"It feels great Aunt Slappy," he cheerfully stated as he finished with the box. "And what about you, how does it feel to be an official guardian now?"
"The perks aren't that great, and the kid is a bit annoying, but I think I can manage." Slappy glanced at the clock he'd put on his nightstand, surprised to find that they'd been unpacking for the last four hours. "Anyway, now that we're done with your room, let's say we walk to your school. I wanna be sure you know the route for Monday." She hopped off the bed and adjusted her hat as Skippy suppressed a smug little grin. Did she ever imagine she'd be walking her kid to school, or that her house would get a little crowded? Probably not, but he didn't expect to feel this happy ever again. He closed the lid of his toy chest with only a bit of struggle, finding that hammerspace distortion wasn't required at the moment.
He ran his hand through the top of the fur on his head and glanced around his room, feeling a sense of pride that came with having a space that was all his own. His stomach growled and surprised him, not aware of his hunger until that very moment. "Can we get food afterwards? I'm starving."
"Sure, in fact I know this one particular tree that always has the tastiest walnuts growing on it. The best ones are at the very top, but it takes me way too long to climb up there these days. You any good at climbing trees?"
Skippy glanced at her with a small smirk, "I'm a squirrel, which means I have a craving for acorns and the ability to climb trees."
"Good, if you climb up to the top I might give you a nickel."
"Wow, a shiny nickel?" he was sure to coat the response in as much sarcasm as he could, rolling his eyes as well. "Are you joking Aunt Slappy?" Skippy questioned.
"When I was your age a nickel for climbing a tree was a pretty good deal."
"We've already done the "when I was your age" thing Aunt Slappy." He clarified as the elder squirrel walked out of the room. He followed her down the stairs and out the front door, closing it shut behind them.
A/N: So good ending or bad? I felt it did well. Hate the mallard thing but that is only because I don't think regular cartoon-violence can be accurately portrayed in words or letters. Anyway, thanks for reading and have a fantastic life.