Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft
Concept (c) Sannam
"So," Charles said, pushing the giant snowball around. "Once we establish Haytham as President of the United States, he'll make us like… also important people to, so we can help him run everything. Once that happens, we just tell the rest of the world to bow down before us."
"I don't think it works like that, Charles," William replied, pushing the giant snowball as well.
"Why do I have to be the President?" Haytham asked, he always got slotted for the leadership positions. While he didn't mind them, and felt he was rather good at leading, he was still only eight and being President of the United States of America sounded really boring. He also wondered what was the point of making this titanic snowball. It already towered over their heads and the grass was starting to show, dead and brown, where they rolled it.
"Because, you're the Grand Master of the Knights Templar!" Charles pointed out.
"I still don't want to be President. I don't want to be a lawyer," Haytham said, "and you have to be a lawyer to be the President."
"Or a general!" Thomas piped. "George Washington was a general."
"George Washington also was angry and had wooden teeth, do I need those too?" Haytham shot back.
"George Washington was an idiot," Charles grumbled. The other boys stopped and stared at Charles, as if he had spoken blasphemy.
"He was the first President of the United States of America! The guy that kicked the British's butts! He's the reason we even have an America!" Thomas hissed. Charles frowned, not likely Thomas' blind hero worship of a man long dead.
"He's still a quack. My daddy said so."
"Do you always believe what your daddy says?" Thomas shot back, making Charles frown with annoyance.
"Hey, I got an idea!" Shay shouted, before anyone else could pick on Charles. "What if we built a super big company and we get into all sorts of different things with this company, and nobody realizes that we are really out for world domination. We create a video game and it allows us to mind control people!"
"That's a stupid idea," Haytham said, glancing at Shay.
"Why?"
"For starters, not everyone plays video games."
"Sure they do."
"No," Haytham said. "They don't. Old people don't play video games and neither do babies. How are we gonna mind control old people and babies if they don't play video games."
"Gotcha there," Charles sneered.
"Just up daddy's boy," Shay grumbled.
"Hey losers," a boy shouted. Haytham and his friends turned to see a tall fourth grader, that was plump and round, his face squashes and he had beady eyes and ruddy cheeks. His dark hair was buzzed short giving his face an even greater piggish appearance. "Lemme join your club. I wanna be a Temple Knight too."
"It's a Templar Knight," Haytham said with a condescending air. "And who are you?" He glanced the boy up and down. The big fourth grader smacked his fist into his palm.
"I'm Rodrigo Borgia," the boy said. "Now, I wanna join your group, so you better let me otherwise I'll beat the snot out of that shifting eyed nerd over there." Rodrigo jerked his chin at Charles. "Capire?"
"Uhm…" Haytham gulped, and his friends huddled behind him and pushed him forward. He swallowed again, staring at Rodrigo. "I don't think so. You… you can't intimidate us. We are the Templar Knights and we have a code of honor. We firmly believe in chivalry."
"What's chiverary, William?" Thomas whispered.
"It's chivalry. It means we treat people with respect and we rescue girls from bullies and hold doors open for them," William explained in a hush whisper.
"I don't do any of that stuff. Does that mean I can leave the club?"
"Do you want to lose your root beer supply?" William hissed back.
"No… fine, I'll stay."
"What's skivvery?" Rodrigo asked, then made a face as he glanced up into the sky. "Are you saying I'm stupid?" he asked Haytham, grabbing him by his parka. "Cause if ya are, I'm gonna punch ya."
"I wouldn't do that," Shay said quickly. Rodrigo and Haytham both looked at him. "His da's a drug dealer."
"Drug dealer? You mean like marijuana?" Rodrigo asked, that stupid thinking look back on his porky face.
"Yup." Shay gave a nod, pushing some of his dark brown hair out of his face.
"No he isn't," Haytham sighed, "Father just happens to have a bunch of scary friends, Sha—OW! Shay why did you kick me?"
"ShutupHaythamI'mtryingtoscarethebigoaf!" Shay hissed through clenched teeth, "So… a drug dealer! I'd let him go if I were you."
"Are you call me fat or stupid?" Rodrigo growled, dropping Haytham in the snow. He stepped on Haytham's hand as he walked towards Shay and grabbed him. "Cause I don't think I like ya talking to me like that. I think I'm gonna punch you first then your stupid friend."
"I'm not stupid," Haytham said, "and you let Shay go!"
"Haytham, don't go playing the hero! Liam's beat me up plenty of times! I can handle it," Shay shouted.
"No. I won't stand for bullies Shay," Haytham said. "Aunt Anne says that bullies are the scum of the earth and you have to stand up to them."
"Oh yeah?" Rodrigo asked, dropping Shay in the snow. "Well, how about you stand up to this!" Rodrigo said, punching Haytham in the face. Haytham staggered back, feeling the hot gush of blood ooze down his lip, he tripped over his feet and landed in the snow. "You still gonna stand up to me, pipsqueak?" Rodrigo asked. Haytham kicked out, hitting Rodrigo in his gut. He groaned, wrapping his arms around his middle. Haytham was about to throw a punch at Rodrigo when Shay grabbed him and dragged him away.
"I told you not to be a hero!" Shay grumbled, leading Haytham away. "C'mon, let's go to the nurse's office."
"I could've taken him."
"He'd flatten you!" Charles interjected.
"Charlie's right," Thomas piped up. "I've heard of him. He's the meanest kid on the playground. Even the Assassins are afraid of him."
"That's comforting," Haytham muttered, accepting the clump of snow Shay handed him. He pressed it to his bleeding nose. "He punched me in the face," Haytham whispered, feeling tears pricking at the corner of his eyes as his body caught up with its injury.
"But you kicked him in the gut," Shay pointed out. Haytham bit his trembling bottom lip, nodding in agreement with Shay.
Rodrigo come by every day to demand inclusion into their group. Each day, Haytham and his friends denied him and Rodrigo would grab Haytham and do several things to him. If Haytham refused, Rodrigo would punch him. When questioned why Rodrigo chose Haytham to bully, Rodrigo replied that as the leader he's responsible and thus needs to be taught a lesson. In was the first week of February, when Haytham got into the car sporting a black eyes and dried blood on his lip. "What happened to you kid?" Thatch asked.
Haytham gave his uncle a dejected look. "I told Father, but…" Haytham sighed.
"Well, tell your Uncle Thatch," Blackbeard said, as he began to pull out of the school parking light.
"There's this kid, he's a fourth grader, named Rodrigo Borgia. He's been bullying me… for weeks now!" Haytham said. "I wish he'd stop."
"Borgia… Borgia… I know that name," Thatch said, "don't you worry, kid, I'll fix things up."
"Thanks Uncle Thatch," Haytham muttered. "So, I take it that jerk called in sick again and Father had to cover him."
"Yep, asswipe," Thatch said, lighting a cigarette at the stop light. "Don't smoke kid. Nasty habit." Thatch added, rolling down the window and blowing the silvery smoke outside. Haytham scratched at the dried blood on his lip.
That night, Edward got home well pass two in the morning. "Hey Blackie," Edward muttered, opening the fridge and grabbing a plastic box with some leftovers. He opened it, gave it a sniff and decided it was good, before grabbing a beer and opening it. He sat down to his less than glamorous dinner. "What's up?"
"You know Haytham's been gettin' bullied?" Thatch asked, exhaling smoke. Edward sighed, muttering a curse as he ran a hand through his hair. "I take it as a yes."
"I've been meaning to call the principal, but I never get around to it. With Jenny going off to London for school and juggling two jobs and now Joe keeps calling in sick…"
"At least Jenny got a full scholarship," Thatch said.
"She's damn lucky too. Seems Caroline's father rubs some important elbows," Edward said, "explains why he never liked me that much."
"I told Haytham I'd take care of this bully for him."
"You aren't going to do anything uncouth are you?" Edward asked, spearing some gravy-gelled peas. Thatch waved a hand, silvery trails of smoke following in the wake of his hand. "We swore we'd be honest men."
"No, no. I'm not going to do anything like that," Thatch said, "you know me, Kenway. I'm a big ol' softie."
"Exactly," Edward said, "it's because I know you that I ask."
"You'll have nothing to worry about, trust me," Thatch said. Edward eyed his friend dubiously.
That Monday, Rodrigo didn't bother them, nor did he bother him the next day. Haytham and his friends didn't see Rodrigo for a good two weeks. In fact, they were beginning to worry this was some plot of Rodrigo's. "Where are you going?" Charles asked, when Haytham began to walk away from for their normal spot.
"I'm going to see if I can't find the Auditore brothers," Haytham said, "I'm going to ask them what happened to Rodrigo."
"Who cares what happened to him," Shay said. "He's gone."
"Still," Haytham said, "I want to make sure." He walked off in search of Giovanni and Mario.
Haytham was sitting in the dining room, flipping through his school books and listening to Thatch curse the kitchen sink, when Edward walked up to him. "So, uh… Haytham," Edward began, "how's school?" he asked.
"Fine."
"That kid isn't bothering you still?"
"Who? Rodrigo."
"Yeah, him. Is he?"
"Oh no, I talked to Giovanni, and he said that Rodrigo is too scared to come to school now," Haytham said, turning a page in his book. "Mario said that the Rodrigo moved to a fancy Catholic private school. I heard Robert De Sablé is there too. Apparently, someone threatened Rodrigo so… that's why he changed schools…" Haytham looked up at his father, "do you think he's so afraid he'd leave the country?"
Edward twitched, eyes narrowing as he shifted his gaze to the kitchen. "Maybe, sea urchin."
"Can you hand me the other book, Father? I'm done with this one."
"Sure," Edward said, handing his son the other book before marching into the kitchen. He found Thatch beneath the sink, grabbing onto the lip he leaned down to peer at his best friend. "Thatch, we need to talk."
"Yes, we do, Kenway. For starters: what the fuck do you keep shoving down the sink? Petroleum jelly? Cause this is the third goddamn time I had to look at the sink!" Thatch said, easy himself out from beneath the kitchen sink. He grabbed a rag and wiped his hands.
"What did you tell the Borgias? We agreed to be honest men now!" Edward asked, "And don't try to worm your way out of this. I know you had something to do with it!"
"You want honesty, Kenway, fine. I'll give you fucking honesty." Thatch said, and took a sip of water. "If you were any other poor bastard, I'd be charging you $180 for fixing the drain, and another $260 for installing a new faucet," Thatch said. Edward frowned, arms folded over his chest, an unimpressed look on his face. "You also are gonna need a new sink soon, and that in and of itself is up in the thousands. But, by the sorry state of your fridge, I hazard to guess you're struggling to make ends meet this month," Thatch said, "so, I'll tell you what I'm gonna do. Since I'm not a plumber by trade, and you're a friend, all I'm gonna charge you is a couple of beer and for you to keep your goddamn fucking mouth shut. Deal?"
Edward side, rubbing his arm like a scolded child. "…Deal."
"Glad's that settled, so, what have you been shoving down your sink?"
So… bit about Thatch for this story. In his navy days, he was a HT (Hull tech), and one of their jobs was working on the HVCT system (which is basically our toilet plumbing system). So, Thatch doesn't know all the ins and outs of domestic plumbing, but he has a general knowledge of how pips and plumbing work. He now runs a restaurant business.
Next chapter, I promise will get to the angst!
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-Nemo