The boys took time off from day care and school once Gillian had explained to them their Grandfather had died. Tomorrow was the funeral and Cal was also not working for a few days with everything going on. Gillian was basically organising everything because her mother wasn't really in the right frame of mind and Matthew... was just not. Cal didn't know the details because he was just slightly outside of the loop of information but he got the impression Matthew had always just... not.
Cal was currently looking for clothes for the boys. Gillian wanted to put them in suits for the funeral but Cal had talked her out of it. When else were they going to wear a suit? He didn't really want to be planning for the next funeral so soon. Not to mention the fact that Lewis and Owen were both growing and the suits wouldn't fit in six months time anyway. So he was shopping for dark trousers and shirts and nice shoes, which was a lot harder to do without a second parent. Gillian was a miracle worker spending the majority of her time with the boys alone. Cal had already spent a lot of time today chasing down the three year old Owen, or sending eight year old Lewis after him.
Everything was interesting. Everything should be touched or looked at immediately. Even the wad of gum someone had dropped on the tiled floor of the mall they were in. Shirts and trousers had to be manhandled onto the toddler who just wanted to touch or look at everything in his vicinity. The tall mirror in the changing room was fascinating because it reflected back the mirror behind them and so on and so forth to create an infinity of reactions. Lewis wanted to dress himself, which was fine, if he also didn't complain about how the tag scratched at his neck, which meant Cal couldn't see if the shirt even fit him properly. And then Owen thought peeking under the doors of the other changing stalls was a lot of fun, particularly when he found someone in one of them.
Cal seriously wondered if the boys were that much trouble for their mother. Seriously.
So they moved on to shoes. Lewis wanted to carry his own bag, which meant Owen did too, but he dragged the bag because he wasn't tall or strong enough and if it was anything else, Cal might not have minded, but those were his nice newly paid for funeral clothes and Gillian would... she wouldn't even kill Cal, he knew, she'd just give him that look and he'd feel doubly guilty. So he took Owen's clothes off him again which made the boy attempt to chuck a fit in the middle of a stream of traffic and Cal could feel those disapproving glances and those other ones that said 'why isn't your other kid in school?' because Lewis stood by and watched.
"Help me out there," Cal asked him, handing over Owen's bag for the elder boy to carry, while he also signed 'help'. Cal crouched down and grasped Owen around an arm and a leg, stood, and slung him over his shoulder quickly, like he was a boar.
Owen gave a cry of surprise and beat his hand against his father's back. "Down!" He howled. "Down!" But he wasn't crying anymore, and he wasn't carrying on about wanting to carry his own bag. Cal jigged him as he started walking again, giving a jerk of his head in his eldest son's direction to say 'come on.' Owen giggled. "Again!" He requested, hand still slapping. "Again, horsie!"
Cal gave a little skip as they wandered along. Lewis smiled slightly but kept his gaze just slightly averted and Cal thought again about how it was strange the eldest lived in the shadow of the youngest. He needed something for just him and Lewis to do. Something special, for older kids, to celebrate him... Might be a good way to get Gillian talking too, asking her to help him think of something, to put a plan into place.
Cal and Lewis stepped into the shoe store and headed over to the children's section. The staff looked over at them and seemed to debate who was going to have to deal. Cal slid Owen down his back, making sure he settled on his feet on the chair behind him. Then he turned, still holding on to the boys arm. He leaned down, got in the kids face. "Are you gonna be nice to Dad? Are you gonna help me out with some new shoes?" He placed his right hand into the cusp of his left and moved them towards his youngest son.
Owen's blue eyes studied him carefully. Cal was sure, if Owen's language comprehension was bigger, he would say 'what's in it for me?' Cal remembered when a simple request was all he had to make of Lewis; actually, that was still true. And he realised again how different his boys were and how this was obviously going to take a different approach. He just needed to figure it out.
"Come have a look at these," Cal lifted Owen again, to his hip. When he turned, Lewis had put the bags down and was fingering up some trainers. "Nice shoes Lew," Cal told him, giving his shoulder a squeeze as he went by with Owen. Lewis looked up at him and Cal signed a quick and awkward two-handed 'nice' as a reminder.
Cal took Owen around the rows to the shiny leather shoes. "Look at these," Cal pointed to some basic lace ups. Owen stared but would not be bought. Shame, because Cal was not going to bribe. He had not with Lewis (aside from the occasional manipulation of things Lewis was going to get anyway) and he would not again with Owen. That encouraged bad habits. "Shiny huh?"
"Hm," Owen noted.
Cal took a pair off the shelf. "Do you like these ones?"
Owen shook his head.
Cal put them back, as if Owen's opinion mattered. He would get the kid into them later. "Do you want to hear a story?"
"I like stories," Owen noted. He patted his father's mouth. "Pretty out your mouth."
Cal pretended to munch on Owen's fingers and the boy laughed and pulled them away quickly, while Cal smiled inside. "It's about elves," Cal went on. "And a shoemake-a. He worked so very hard main' shoes but he could neva make enough to sell and buy food with."
Owen looked at him hard, listening.
"Eventually, he had nothin' left to sell to feed him and his wife but enough leather left to make one pair of shoes," Cal turned to the shelf again and wandered along it. Lewis was picking out shoes for himself. "Black," Cal told him, running his hand along his forehead while his index finger pointed to the left. "Have to be black rememba?" He found some and the correct size and pointed to them for Lewis.
"More," Owen demanded, getting his father's attention again.
"So he cut the leather to make the shoes the next mornin' when he woke up. And you know what happened when he woke up?" Cal asked.
Owen's eyes went wide and he shook his head.
"The shoes had already been made!"
Owen gave a little gasp. Cal turned back to the shelf. He found some simple black lace up's and held one against the bottom of the shoe his son was already wearing. Wrong size.
"Who made them?" Owen asking, tapping his father's shoulder to get his attention again. His other hand had the fingers curved up towards the ceiling in a 'wh?' question sign.
"Well he was really stunned," Cal went on. "Who made the shoes? He didn't know. But they were perfect. And they were beautiful," Cal put the shoe back and moved his flat hand over his face.
"Magic," Owen supplied.
"Well," Cal shifted the boy on his hip. "Someone came into the store and saw the shoes and loved them so much he paid lots for them. The shoemake-a was thrilled and bought enough leatha for two more pairs. And that night he cut them out and thought he would go to bed and make them in the mornin'. And do you know what happened?"
A sales assistant approached but Cal indicated he was fine. Owen's eyes went wide again. "Magic!"
"Yes," Cal nodded. "Magic. The shoemake-a woke up and the shoes were made. Perfect again and beautiful. He sold them and had enough money for four more pairs!"
"Oh lot's!" Owen exclaimed.
"Yeah!" Cal agreed readily. "So again he cut the leatha and when he woke in the mornin' the shoes were made and he sold them for more money and soon he was much betta and he could have lots of food for him and his wife."
"Lots of shoes," Owen mused.
"Yes, there were lots of shoes but if he wasn't makin' the shoes, then who was?"
Lewis approached with his shoes on. "Nice, Lewis," Cal encouraged. "What do you think?" He pointed to his forehead. Lewis considered them. He signed 'ok'. "Try some more," Cal told him. "Lots of shoes."
"Lots of shoes Daddy!"
"Yea," Cal turned back to Owen again. The kid was getting heavy. "So the shoemake-a decided the only way to know would be to sit up and wait to see what happened." Owen leaned forward, closer, as if he couldn't get enough. It was great having the kid enthralled but Cal was going to have to relate this back to Owen getting his own pair in the end.
"So he waited up with his wife and at midnight two little naked elves arrived!"
"Oh!" Owen gasped.
"And they sat down and worked away quickly and made all the leatha into shoes for the next day."
"Magic," Owen murmured.
"Yeah magic," Cal agreed. "Elvin magic."
"Eelfs," Owen noted.
"There's more," Cal warned. "Do you want to hear the end?" Owen nodded vigorously. "Well the shoemake-a's wife thought it was sad these little elves worked so hard for them, for nothin', no money and no food and they didn't have any clothes!"
"Oh!" Owen laughed. "No clothes!"
"So the shoemake-a's wife decided to make a little shirt and little trousers and little hats for them. And the shoemake-a decided he would make them a pair of little shoes. When they were ready they left the clothes and the shoes on the table for the little elves to find when they arrived the next night and the shoemake-a and his wife went to hide so the elves wouldn't see them."
Lewis re-appared with a different pair of shoes on.
"More Daddy," Owen demanded.
"Hang on a sec," Cal told him, turning to Lewis. "Those are nice. Do you like those ones?" He moved his hand from his chest, bringing his thumb and middle finger together to touch.
Lewis gave a half hearted shrug.
"More!"
"Hang on!" Cal told Owen firmly. "Take a seat Lew and I'll come ova in a second." He signed an awkward 'second'. He needed two hands and one arm was caught up completely with holding Owen.
Lewis wandered away and Cal turned to his youngest son. "All right. So do you wanna know what happened to the elves?"
Owen nodded despite himself.
"Well they arrived that night to make the shoes but instead of findin' work left out there were neat little clothes! They were thrilled!"
Owen smiled, his blue eyes steady on his father, his little hand pressing into the larger shoulder he was clinging on to absently as he listened.
"So they put the clothes on and laughed and danced around the room and then they went home."
Bit of a letdown story. But here was the point:
"So what do you reckon Owen? Wanna try on some elf shoes?"
"Yes!" Owen rocked forward so he almost knocked his nose into Cal's chin.
Cal turned him towards the shelf and they picked out two pairs to try on. Cal took him back to the seat where big brother was waiting patiently. Cal put Owen down on the chair and told him to take his old shoes off. While he did that, Cal focused on Lewis. He checked the toe and heel of the shoes Lewis had on to make sure they at least fit him properly, and might actually give him a bit of wear if there was a bit of room to grow. Lewis walked around in them to show his father, while he took a seat to watch, and a sales assistant came over again to help Owen, which was good, because Lewis really opened up when he got one-on-one time with his father. Cal let Lewis pick which ones he liked better. They had a blood red streak in the sole that would be a secret, which he loved, and so Cal agreed he could have that black pair instead of that other black pair.
"Elf shoes," Owen told the sales assistant who gave him a nod and a smile and carried on lacing the black leather shoes. Owen knocked his feet together. Cal gave Lewis the cash to go and pay for his shoes and turned his attention to his youngest.
"There's a bit of room in there," the sales assistant told him. "So he can get some wear."
"Right," Cal agreed but what did it matter? The kid was three. It wasn't like he had a lot of formal events to go to. "Go for a walk Owen," Cal pushed the boy to stand on his feet. Owen turned to rest his hands on his father's knees. "Up there," Cal pointed to the end of the shelf. He signed 'walk'. Owen didn't move and Cal saw Lewis approaching again, his box of shoes in a bag in his hand, the receipt tightly in the other. "Go to Lewis," Cal encouraged.
Owen turned to his brother, and walked towards him. Lewis put the receipt in the bag and then took Owen's hand and murmured something to him. Cal found it interesting the two boys often murmured to each other. Lewis didn't seem to have any problem understanding his little brother.
"Special occasion?" The sales assistant asked politely.
"Uh, yeah," Cal answered absently, watching as the boys approached. Owen rushed to his father again. "What do you think?" He asked. "Do you like?" He pointed to his forehead, then signed 'like'.
Owen nodded. "Like the elfs shoes."
"Yeah buddy," Cal turned him and pulled him to his lap.
"I leave them on."
"You can't. You have to take them off to pay," Lewis informed him, taking a seat next to his father. He ran his index finger along the length of his palm so it flicked towards his brother at the end.
"Oh you can leave them on," the assistant spoke up again. "I just need the right shoe for the bar code and to take the security tag off." He knelt down in front of Owen, who leaned back against a chair, and lifted the boy's right foot.
"My granddad died," Owen blurted suddenly.
The sales assistant looked up surprised, halting in undoing the laces.
"Owen," Cal murmured, putting his arm around the boy in a warning to say... well Cal wasn't going to tell him not to say anything more or warn him to censor his mouth but... the little nudge was enough to imply both. He could explain later that that kind of thing sometimes made other people feel uncomfortable. Not that that would stop Owen from yammering on if he felt so inclined, nor would Cal actually shush him.
Owen turned his head to look up at his father and Cal met his eye. The boy looked curious, as if he were asking whether it wasn't true. The sales assistant slipped the shoe off Owen's foot and got up, heading to the desk. "You stay here with Lew all right?" Cal directed. "While I go pay."
"Ok," Owen agreed amiably.
"Lew," Cal got up. "Can you get the old shoes in the bag please?" He mimicked holding a bag handle.
The sales assistant didn't quite meet Cal's eye as he handed over his credit card; cash for Lewis because he liked to act like a big boy. Cal paid and the security tag was taken off. The sales assistant told him to have a good day and Cal thanked him for his help. He headed back to where the boys were gathering their things together. Lewis was holding the bag for Owen to drop his last shoe in. He signed 'good'.
Cal sat down and called Owen over to sit next to him. Lewis stood nearby. "What did Mum tell you about Granddad?" Cal asked as he pushed Owen's shoe back on his foot.
"She said Granddad was dead," Lewis answered. Cal looked up to his elder son.
"Do you undastand what that means?" He brought his hand to his forehead and as he moved it away he extended his index finger a little.
Lewis nodded. Owen shook his head, then saw his brother, and nodded as well. Cal pulled Owen's laces tight.
"It means that Granddad isn't here anymore," Lewis offered, shaking his head and perching on the edge of the cushioned chair next to his father.
"He's gone away," Owen offered.
"Yeah," Cal agreed, making a loop and binding the knot. "And you know he's not going to come back?" Ok, whoa, he should really not be having this conversation in the middle of a shoe store. But Gillian had had this conversation with their boys without him there and he wanted to know what had been discussed. Gillian had a tendency to gloss, to sugar coat, which Cal felt was at the detriment of the information. Cal would have told them straight. The point was, he had no idea what his wife had told his children because she was cutting him out. And yes, he was angry about it.
"He's gone forever," Owen added.
"Yeah," Cal agreed and then let it go. He finished with Owen's shoe and made sure the boys had gathered together everything of theirs. He let Owen carry the box his shoes were meant to be in and called over his shoulder to the young man who had served them, thanking him again, saying goodbye. Maybe Cal could talk to the boys in the car, but he suspected the moment had passed. It wasn't something he wanted to push, or discuss overly extensively. It was going to be tough enough tomorrow, not to mention emotional...
As the boys moved ahead of their father, Owen reached for Lewis's hand and Cal saw the big brother squeeze back.