It took Fred a long time to get used to his new school year schedule, but it really had been better than the last year had been. His new teacher was nice, though Fred sometimes felt like the man talked to him like he was a baby. His parents said he was just imagining it, and Coach Jones said that a lot of kindergarten teachers talked to their students this way, and it wasn't just Fred.
What he really liked though was that he actually made a friend this year. Daphne. She invited him to join her games, and didn't get annoyed when he rambled on and on about something. She didn't even think he was stupid for doing kindergarten again.
Having a friend made school easier. What was the real weight off his shoulders was Coach Jones. The man was true to his word. Every Sunday he would pick Fred up and he'd spend the day at his house. They usually didn't do anything special. They just sat in each other's company, and it quickly became one of Fred's favorite things.
He liked having a grown-up around so regularly. Coach Jones was someone he could reliably count on if he needed anything. More importantly, he was still there even if Fred didn't need something.
Fred felt like he could talk to Coach Jones in a way he couldn't talk to his parents. They were so busy, and when they were home they were too tired to be bothered with his dumb questions. They wanted to relax, not tell him why he should let the kids at school steal the toys he was playing with, because it was sharing.
Coach Jones explained things much better. He told Fred that the kids that took the toys from him were wrong, but he shouldn't try to fight them on it. Because then Fred would be the one to get in trouble for fighting, and also for not sharing. Instead Coach Jones told Fred to go to Daphne for help, as she was so much better with her words than he was and sometimes she could convince the kids to give the toy back. If that didn't work, Fred either needed to go to the teacher, or he needed to keep quiet, find a new toy to play with, and just talk through his bad feelings about it with Coach Jones when he was done with school.
Fred's dad would probably tell him to stand up for himself, but Coach Jones said that while he shouldn't let himself be a doormat, he needed to learn how to pick his fights. Fred didn't really know what that meant, but if it meant not getting in trouble at school, he'd try.
The school year passed without too much issue, and Fred was excited when he was told that he'd be going into first grade with the rest of his class, and he'd even be able to be in the same class as Daphne.
Fred was hopeful for the future. It involved changes, but they were changes he'd been hoping for. In a few weeks he'd be out of school for the summer, and his dad wanted him to do soccer again. Fred didn't know if he liked soccer or not, but Coach Jones said he'd be coaching again, and Fred couldn't wait for that summer schedule they'd had last year.
And Mom and Dad were finally done with their school. Today was their last class. They were officially graduating next week, and they'd be able to be home more. At least, that was what Fred hoped. Mom said they'd be starting a type of training that was basically work, and that they'd still be busy, but Fred didn't think they'd be gone as much.
Fred had seen other grown-ups work. They were busy, but at least they were home sometimes. All of Fred's classmates saw their parents nearly every day, or at least on the weekend. It was the kind of thing that Fred dreamed of having. And even if his parents were still really busy, Fred hoped that they wouldn't work at the same time every day. If he had his dad sometimes and his mom sometimes, he'd be fine.
Fred talked about his hopes with Daphne, but he didn't even think of bringing it up to anybody else. He didn't see the need. Fred didn't even consider that his hopes were unfounded.
It was Friday, and Fred was sitting on the couch excitedly watching the front door as he waited for his parents to come home. It was about dinner time, but he wasn't thinking of what to eat. His parents usually got home around dinner time, and he wanted to eat with them for once. He just had to wait for them to get back.
Fred had a little bit of school work, but it was just letter and number writing, and Fred didn't feel like practicing that. He felt like that was all he'd been doing all year, but he wasn't any better at it. He thought he could skip one evening of writing.
Fred drew for a little bit, and then he turned on the tv and watched a show that Daphne liked to talk about. Fred didn't really get it, but he knew how much he liked when people listened to him when he talked and actually paid attention, and he wanted to do the same, but he had a hard time doing it when it was a topic he knew nothing about.
Fred watched, trying to keep his mind from drifting. He was sleepy though. He was always so tired on Fridays, like he was completely drained after a week of school and being surrounded by people. Saturdays let him relax, and Sundays with Coach Jones put him in a good enough mood to face the next week.
Fred dozed and soon fell asleep on the couch. It was late enough in the evening that he probably could have just slept for the night. He only woke up when somebody picked him up. He whined and curled into the hold.
"Go back to bed, Sweetie." He heard his mom say. Fred forced his eyes open and looked up at her.
"Mommy?" His voice slurred as he was half asleep. "You're home. I waited for you."
"Oh, Freddie." She adjusted her grip on him. "We went out to dinner with some of our friends."
"Oh." Fred felt a little bit of hurt. He'd waited for his parents. He hadn't eaten dinner himself. He was really hungry now, but he was too tired to eat. "But you're going to be home tomorrow, right?"
"I'm afraid not, Sport." He heard his dad's voice. "A buddy of mine has a cousin who's letting some of us stay at his cabin to celebrate graduating. It's been a long time since we've had a relaxing weekend to ourselves. Right Judy?"
"That's right, Brad." His mom said. Fred felt his chest tighten painfully.
"You're leaving me?" His voice broke.
"It's just for a few days." His mom said gently. She brought him into his bedroom and laid him on the bed. "You're our brave little boy. You can handle a few days, can't you?"
Fred fiddled with his blanket. He wanted to cling to her, but he knew she didn't like when he did that. "I guess so." He really didn't want to, but he knew he could handle it. It wouldn't be much worse than what he'd been doing for a while now.
"That's my boy." She kissed his forehead, even though he didn't like when she did that. She started to leave his bedroom, and Fred felt panicked. He reached towards his parents.
"Don't leave." Fred whined. He didn't know if he was talking about their trip, or the fact that they were leaving his room.
"You're a big kid, Freddie." His dad said kindly, but firmly. "You don't need us to hold your hands forever." He knew that. He wasn't asking for forever. He just wanted tonight. Or this weekend. Or just at all. But Fred didn't know how to say that, so he didn't. He just sat there as they turned off his lights, wished him good night, and closed the door.
Fred sat there numbly for a bit before he sighed and laid down. He wrapped his blanket tightly around his shoulders and he curled up as much as he could. He wished he had something to cuddle, or someone who would hug him, but he was alone, and all he had was his blanket.
He was still tired after being woken up so suddenly. Not knowing how else to get rid of the hurt, he went back to sleep, hoping that everything would seem better in the morning.
Fred slept through the night and into the morning. He had burrowed so deeply into his blankets that he wasn't woken by the sun through his windows. It felt late when he finally woke up, but he felt well-rested and nowhere near as upset as he'd been last night. He stretched and climbed out of bed. He was still wearing yesterday's clothes, but he didn't really want to change and he didn't see the point in it either.
He went downstairs, thinking that he'd find his parents making breakfast. The kitchen was empty, and looked like it hadn't been used. Fred looked around, frowning. His parents wouldn't have left without saying goodbye, would they? He didn't want to think so, but they'd done this type of thing before.
Fred swallowed down the lump in his throat as he went to the front room and looked out the window. His parents' car wasn't there. Feeling truly alarmed now, Fred ran upstairs and burst into his parents' room. He wasn't normally allowed in here, but he couldn't help himself. He looked in their closet where they kept their suitcases. They weren't there. Fred's parents had left.
Feeling a little numb, Fred went back into the kitchen. His tummy was yelling at him, but he really didn't want to eat anything. He noticed a note on the table, but he couldn't read it. His mom's handwriting was way too fancy for him to even try to puzzle through. He recognized the numbers written as phone numbers, which he knew were just to be used in case of an emergency.
Fred didn't really know what counted as an emergency. He knew from experience that calling his parents when he was hungry, lonely, or after he had a nightmare didn't count as an emergency.
Fred felt a little lost and aimless. He was supposed to eat breakfast after waking up, and he was hungry, but he didn't feel like eating anything. He didn't want to try to work with the stove to make eggs that he couldn't figure out how to get right. He didn't want to pull out the step ladder so he could reach the toaster so he could make some toast. Even just getting a bowl of cereal felt like too much effort.
Fred stood in the kitchen for a few minutes, looking around but not really doing anything. Finally, feeling defeated, he went back upstairs and into his parents' bedroom. He climbed into their bed and crawled under the covers. He just curled up, just like he'd done in his own bed the night before.
But he'd been sleepy then. He was wide awake now, and it was too early for a nap. He tried a little bit, but it just made him feel uncomfortable and a little anxious. After about half an hour he got out of his parents' bed, left their room, and went into his own bedroom.
He usually escaped to his room when the house felt too empty. It helped a little bit, but not enough. He still knew that his parents were gone. He should be used to it, but he'd been so hopeful that this kind of thing was over. That he wouldn't have any more lonely days where he didn't even see his parents. He hadn't even had just a single day of that. The second they weren't at school anymore, they went on a trip, leaving him alone.
Fred didn't like crying about his parents, but sometimes it became too much for him. Sometimes he was just too lonely, tired, and scared to try to be the big boy his dad said he was. Fred sniffled to himself as he missed his parents. He let out a sob as he wondered if they just hated being around him that much. His quiet crying turned into desperate bawling when he realized that he needed to find lunch and dinner for himself later, and he hadn't even been able to handle breakfast.
Fred's cries and screams echoed throughout the house, but there was nobody around to hear them. Fred was alone, just like he'd always been.
Eventually his cries tapered off into occasional sobs and stuttered breaths as he lost the emotional energy to keep crying. He didn't feel better though. He was still devastated, and when he thought about his parents he just started crying all over again.
Eventually he cried himself back to sleep and he had an uneasy nap. When he woke up he felt gross and his clothes felt wrinkly and uncomfortable. Not having anything else to do, and desperate for any way to pass the time until tomorrow when he could see Coach Jones and everything would be better, Fred grabbed some fresh clothes and went into his parents' bathroom.
Their bathtub was big, and Fred actually felt like he could relax in here. Something he couldn't do in the smaller cramped tub down the hall. He started the bath, adding some of the bubble bath that Coach Jones had bought him once. Fred didn't always like bathing with bubbles, but he needed that little splash of fun.
He couldn't really enjoy his bath as much as he wanted to, but the warm water felt nice, and trying to build towers out of the bubbles passed the time. Fred didn't wash his hair, because whenever he tried to do it he either got soap in his eyes or he didn't rinse it all out, and then his hair was left stiff and icky feeling with the lingering soap.
Fred stayed in the bath until the water was too cool to be comfortable and the bubbles were mostly gone. He got out and wrapped himself up in his dad's big towel. He then sat on the ground and just waited.
He couldn't figure out how to dry himself off with the towel, and he hated the way his clothes felt when he tried to put them on when his skin was still a little wet. Sitting in a towel and just waiting for his body to dry itself was what he liked to do when his parents weren't around to rush him.
When Fred finally left the bathroom, feeling just the tiniest bit better, he went down into the kitchen again, because he really needed to eat. He didn't know what time he woke up, or how long his nap had been, or how long he'd been in the bath, but by this time it was late afternoon. Just a few more hours and he could go to bed, and then it would be Sunday, and then everything would be fine, because things were always fine on Sundays.
Sometimes when Fred had a bad day, he dreaded sleep because he was scared of having another bad day. Other times he looked forward to bedtime, because that meant finally ending the bad day, and having a new start in the morning.
Fred felt nothing but hope for tomorrow morning, but his stomach dropped when he realized that there was a problem. To get to tomorrow, he needed to get through tonight. Alone.
Fred was used to being by himself, but he'd never slept through the night in an empty house. Even on days when he went to bed before his parents came home, and they were gone before he woke up, they were still there when he slept. He wasn't completely alone. Except tonight, he would be.
Fred didn't know why it was different, but the thought made him feel like he couldn't breathe. He'd tried to be brave, and be a big boy without his parents here, but he couldn't do this. He couldn't sleep alone.
There were two ways that Fred coped with heavy stress. He shut down and seemed to forget how to cope in even the simplest of ways, or he planned. All day he had been shutting down, and it had tired him out. It hadn't gotten him anywhere, so now was a time to plan.
Fred didn't really think things through. He just acted before he got worked up and couldn't move anymore. He grabbed his jacket, put his shoes on, and left the house. Fred didn't think to lock the door or grab some food. He just left before he changed his mind.
He didn't want to be alone, and he knew just where he could go for company. Coach Jones said he was welcome anytime, and he didn't live too far away. Maybe Fred was panicking about nothing, and he was about to bother the man needlessly when he'd see him tomorrow, but Fred didn't know where else to go.
He didn't really consider calling Coach Jones on the phone to see if he was even home, or if he could pick Fred up. The boy just knew that he wanted to stay with the man tonight, so he needed to get there.
Fred knew where Coach Jones lived, but only in relation to the park. He didn't really know how to get there from his house. The best that Fred could do was walk to the park, and then walk to Coach Jones' house from there. He just hoped that the man didn't get upset with him for walking by himself when it was going to be dark soon.
Fred walked as quickly as he could without actually running. His stomach was really hurting with hunger by the time he approached the house. He hoped Coach Jones would have something he could eat for dinner.
The boy knocked on the door. For a long tense moment there was no answer, and he was scared that he'd have to walk home in the dark and be alone after all. When the door opened he felt so much relief that he started crying again.
"Thundering lightning bugs, Fred, what are you doing here?" Frederick asked. Fred couldn't answer. He whimpered and just wrapped his arms around the man's legs. He wasn't going to be alone. "...Freddie? Are you okay?"
He shook his head, because he was far from okay, and now he was wondering if he would be. He thought things would be better now that his parents were done with school. It wasn't supposed to get so much worse.
Frederick sighed and bent down, lifting Fred into his arms. The boy clung to him. Frederick's grip felt much safer than his mom's did. "Have you had dinner yet?" Fred shook his head again. "Well, let's fix that."
Fred was brought inside and into Frederick's kitchen. The man set him down and then soon brought over a plate with fish and cooked veggies.
"I was just about to have dinner myself, but there's enough food for two." Frederick said. "If you want something else, I'll see what I can find."
Fred shook his head and took a bite. The vegetables were crunchier than he would like, and he didn't know how he felt about the texture of the fish, but he was too hungry to really care. He ate quickly, and he was relieved that Frederick didn't tell him off for being rude.
Frederick ate his food more slowly. He seemed distracted. He was just watching Fred. "Have you eaten much today?"
Fred shook his head. "I forgot."
Frederick's mouth thinned. "Surely your parents didn't forget."
Fred finished with his bite, and he suddenly wasn't feeling as excited about eating. He put his fork down and wrapped his arms around his stomach. "They're not home. They're taking a break."
An angry look came to Frederick's eyes. Fred often saw that kind of anger whenever he talked about his parents. He knew that Frederick didn't like them, and he didn't think his parents liked him either. Fred didn't know why, but he was afraid that if he said anything about it then they would just start fighting, and he didn't want that. He needed all three of them. If his parents got mad at Frederick and didn't allow Fred to see him anymore, or if Frederick got mad at them and decided that he wanted nothing to do with them or Fred anymore, he didn't know what he would do.
"I know how to be alone." Fred assured him. "I just…I felt like I couldn't do it today."
"That's fine." Frederick said. "Your parents shouldn't have left you like this in the first place." There was anger in his tone, but he took a deep breath and when he spoke again a fair amount of the frustration had eased out of his voice. "Do you know when they'll be back?"
Fred blinked. He realized that he didn't actually know. "Mom said a few days, but that can mean that they'll be back on Monday, or Wednesday, or…or whenever." Fred's chest tightened again. "I don't know when they're coming back." They'd left him all alone, and he didn't even see an end in sight.
"Oh, Freddie." Frederick put his own fork down. Fred lowered his head and wiped at his eyes before he could start crying again, but it just made the tears worse.
"I have something for you." Frederick said. He got up from the table, his meal forgotten. He held a hand out to Fred, and the boy took it. Frederick took him to his spare bedroom. Right there on the bed was a soft looking stuffed animal that Fred recognized from the toy store. It was a moose, with soft fur and a lot of stuffing. Fred's eyes widened at the sight of it.
"Tyler." Fred said quietly. He went closer to the bed, taking the stuffed animal in his arms. It was as soft as he remembered it being. He hugged it close. Frederick had taken Fred to the toy store a number of times, and while he loved looking at all the games and toys, he was always drawn back to the stuffed animals. He'd named many of them, but Tyler was his favorite. It was just as soft as all of the others, but his antlers were a different texture that also felt nice to pet, and Fred liked the contrast. Tyler was also just the right size for cuddling, fitting right in his arms.
"You got him for me?" Fred asked.
"I thought you might like having someone to talk to when I'm not around." Frederick said. "Tomorrow we can find somewhere to hide him in your room so your father doesn't take him away."
Tears started falling from Fred's eyes again, and for the first time today it wasn't from fear or despair. Still holding Tyler close, Fred went to Frederick and embraced him tightly.
"Thank you." Fred muttered.
"You're welcome." Frederick said. He was quiet for a moment. "You can stay with me until your parents get back. And should you ever need a place to stay, for whatever reason, you're welcome here." He put his hands on Fred's shoulders and pulled him back, crouching to look him in the eyes.
"If your parents leave you alone like this again, I want you to call me." Frederick said. He brushed Fred's hair out of his face, just like his mom did. "You shouldn't be alone like this."
Fred nodded. He'd remember, because today had been hard and he didn't want to do it again. He was still getting used to the idea that there was a grown-up that he could count on. Slowly but surely though it was starting to sink in.
Frederick had let him in and given him food without a moment's hesitation. He'd bought Fred a toy he didn't need, just because he wanted it. And for months he had kept his promise about making time for Fred, which his own parents could never seem to do.
His parents would always be his parents, and Fred loved them, but Frederick Jones was something else. Something more. He took care of Fred. He loved him in ways that Fred had always heard a parent should. Fred didn't know just what he would call Frederick, but he was family, and that was all he really needed to know.
