Ch. 33

As Dylan was being scrubbed far more thoroughly than he was used to, James was also in the middle of a steaming bath. Unlike Dylan, however, James couldn't have been happier to soak in hot water as the ongoing storm tormented New York City with snow and wind. In fact, the lack of a window in the bathroom meant that James could hardly hear the awful weather as he laid back in the tub and the soothing heat had worked its own brand of magic on the little boy, washing away the fear and worries the day had brought.

Now, James knew everything would be alright. Dylan was safe, Miss Spider and Centipede would be home soon, and he had the whole day tomorrow to relax and read and be with his family. On top of that, he wasn't going to bed hungry or cold or scared; if anything, he was feeling a bit fuller than he would have liked, but Mrs. Ladybug and Mr. Grasshopper had no issue giving him a few extra biscuits after dinner.

Good thing Dylan wasn't here to see that.

Probably, but would he have wanted extra sweets?

Yes.

Fair enough. James ran his hand through the water as he thought back to Dylan's stash of junk food. The older boy had been eating chocolate for dinner almost every day he'd been here and yet Dylan had still demanded extra dessert.

Maybe he was just hungry. You know what that's like.

Well, yes, of course James knew what that was like. Once again, James's mind flashed back to the previous winter and the cold snowy nights he'd spent shivering and starving in his attic bedroom. At the time, dessert had been the farthest thing from James's mind as he'd mainly hoped Spiker and Sponge wouldn't decide he needed to be punished for something they'd only just taken issue with. Otherwise, trying to stay warm and ignore his hollow aching stomach was what the little boy had fallen asleep to.

But if Spiker and Sponge had left out any biscuits, you'd have taken one, wouldn't you?

Well, sure, if he could. James ducked under the hot water for a bit as he considered the idea. Normally, James never would have considered stealing from someone else, but going several days on scraps or nothing at all had forced the little boy to reconsider that line of thinking. True, he'd never felt good about doing such a thing and James knew that if his aunts ever caught him in the act, he would have been black and blue for a month. But any port in a storm as Dad used to say and the little boy had learned to grab whatever food he was certain wouldn't have been missed.

Poking his head out of the water, James allowed himself a rueful grin as the conversations with both Dylan and Mrs. Ladybug came back to him. He hadn't been joking when he'd told Mrs. Ladybug that he would have gladly eaten cauliflower if that had been all he could get his hands on, but James couldn't actually recall Spiker and Sponge cooking cauliflower while he'd lived with them. On the other hand, nor could the little boy ever remember his aunts leaving any sweets out where he could get them. Oh sure, James knew his aunts had sweets, but both of them- Sponge especially- seemed to know exactly how many they had and if any went missing (again, usually because of Sponge), James was sure to get the blame. Dylan may have protested about not being allowed to have sweets, but James knew the older boy would've hated it more if he'd been forced to watch others cram their mouths full of biscuits or chocolates while he could only hope for a piece of bread or an apple after working out in the cold all day.

And usually not eating the day before.

Right. James swiped some water out of his eyes as he sat back against the back of the bathtub. There were days when he'd have to labor at his chores on a completely empty stomach and the winter had always made his empty stomach growl harder than ever. Sometimes it had been hard to get out of bed or do his work properly because he'd been so weak and when that happened...

No, no! No more of that, no more of that! James huddled back down in his bath, wanting to absorb as much of the heat as he could. He wasn't at his aunts' house anymore. He was warm and safe, he had a full stomach, and he would be able to sleep soundly without fear of being beaten for not waking up at the crack of dawn. Even better, James had gotten to eat delicious homemade biscuits tonight and he had a sneaking suspicion that wherever Spiker and Sponge were, they would not get the same treatment.

Neither will Dylan.

"Only because he already did," James muttered under his breath as he pulled the plug on the bath. "Dylan stole pancakes from a diner, ice cream from the department store and desserts from Miss Spider's club. Mr. Grasshopper also said he was sure Dylan would try and take something from the Grand Deluxe too and I bet it was more sweets."

The voice inside James's mind had no response to this and James was able to rinse off any remaining soapsuds and dry off in silence. Pulling on his freshly-laundered pajamas and slippers, James wiped down the bathtub and deposited his used towels and washcloth into the laundry hamper. Clearing the steam from the mirror, James quickly brushed his teeth and combed his mostly-dried hair, but he had to blink several times to keep his eyes open. Whether it was the bath, the lingering heat in the bathroom or just the stress of the day, James was finding it hard to stay awake. But the little boy was determined to wait up until Centipede and Miss Spider got home and besides, Mr. Grasshopper said he could stay up until 8:30 to read his new book. Still, maybe he'd read in his room and curled up in bed. That sounded good right about now.

The hallway outside the bathroom was cooler and James felt a bit of the sleepiness leave him as he made his way to his room. From downstairs, the little boy could hear the occasional word or footstep, but that was all. Oh well, he'd hear the front door soon enough. James just hoped Miss Spider and Centipede would be home soon; the wind hadn't let up one bit and the dark night sky was filled with swirling snow that even now was piled on his bedroom window ledge. Despite the warmth lingering on his skin, James still shivered at the thought of not having a proper window and feeling the icy wind blow in through old wooden shutters. On a night like tonight, that would have been dreadful and James certainly hoped no one else would have to suffer such a fate.

Like Dylan?

Yes, like Dylan. No matter what, James was glad Dylan was somewhere safe and warm. Just because Dylan was bad didn't mean he had to suffer, right? Well, okay, he deserved to be punished for what he did today, but that didn't mean he should be hurt or put in danger. Spiker and Sponge had done way worse, after all, and they were sent to jail, but James knew they wouldn't have to stand out in the storm or not be given anything to eat. And what had Mr. Grasshopper said? Right, Centipede was making sure places where bad kids got sent wouldn't be mean to them. True, Dylan thought that anyone who denied him sweets or television or who made him go to school was mean enough to go to jail, but James had a feeling that the people in charge would have far different opinions.

Tree branches rattled like skeleton fingers against James's window. The little boy took a step back, closer to his desk where his lamp was giving off enough cozy warm light to equal the summer sun. His backpack was already hung up on his desk chair and James reached inside it to retrieve his little stuffed otter, who was still adorned with her captain's cap and cloak.

"I bet you're glad to be home, aren't you? And I'll bet you're happy too," James said as he set the otter carefully atop the waiting truck on his toy shelf. The otter flopped forward onto her stomach, curling up on the hood of the truck. At the same time, the truck moved slightly under James's hands and the otter's head shifted to rest against the windshield.

"Thank you again for your help. Because of you, everyone thought my model ship was extra special. I guess that's because you're extra special, though. I just hope you won't be too cold tonight, but trucks are usually warm, right? All the same, you'd better keep your cloak on; my family said the storm won't stop until late tomorrow and it's going to be freezing for a while yet."

The otter's dark eyes shone in the warm light. James smiled back at his stuffed toy, knowing both she and the truck were happy. James also had a sneaking suspicion that Tessa's toy dog was just as warm and happy as his otter and James just hoped that Tessa was warm and safe in her room right now too, just like he hoped all of his friends were. James liked to think they all had delicious dinners and treats and hot baths and were feeling as happy as he was. And despite everything, James couldn't help but wonder how Dylan was feeling right about now.

"I don't know if you heard, but Dylan stole a lot of sweets from different places today," James confided in the otter and truck. "He even took desserts from Miss Spider's club and then he got so sick, he threw up. Mrs. Ladybug said he's going to have to stay in the infirmary at whatever place he gets taken to and that's probably not going to be fun. But I don't know why Dylan even ate that much anyway. He probably started feeling full before he felt sick, right? So why did he keep eating all those sweets?"

Maybe Dylan was still feeling hungry.

"Mrs. Ladybug told me that if you still feel hungry after eating a lot of sweets, it's because your body is telling you it needs healthy food," James told his otter. "But Dylan always got mad when my family wanted him to eat anything healthy. I guess because his grandmother never taught him any different, he figured he could eat as many sweets as he wanted once no one could stop him and then he didn't know why he was still hungry. I guess I can't really blame him for that; it's awful to feel hungry and not be able to eat."

Was it just James's imagination or did the truck's headlights flash at him, almost sympathetically? Maybe it was just a trick of the lamp, but James smiled anyway and continued,

"Right. It wasn't as though Dylan was starving; he just chose to eat food that was bad for him even when he shouldn't have. And he hid food in his room; candy and cookies, mostly, so he never had to go to bed hungry."

This time, James was sure the otter's tail twitched a bit as the little boy leaned his arms against the toy shelf. He laughed and nodded.

"Exactly. He probably made himself hungrier than ever because he wasn't eating the right foods. Maybe that's why all he wanted to do was sit and eat while he watched television; he didn't have the energy to do anything else. But now that he can't have any sweets, maybe he'll feel better and want to do something else. I hope so, because maybe then Dylan'll be happier."

He's not going to be happy. You know that.

"It'll probably be a while before Dylan starts to feel happy again. I know he wants to go back home and live with his grandmother, but I guess if all she did was let him eat sweets and watch television, he'd never learn how to find something to make him happy. I just hope Dylan's new family helps him, just like my family helped me."

James smiled at the otter and truck once more before walking back over to his bed. He'd already placed his new book on his nightstand and the little boy settled himself into his blankets and leaned against his pillow before picking up said book and turning to the first page. Oh this was nice; Prince Farin and Princess Kaela were having a picnic in a meadow by a river. And there were otters in the stream too! James blinked his heavy eyelids as he glanced up at his stuffed otter? Funny, had he moved the truck's windshield wipers to drape over the stuffed otter's little body, as though the truck was holding her to it? He didn't remember, but probably as James found the idea very nice indeed. Stifling a yawn, the little boy tried to focus on the words in front of him, but his eyes didn't seem to want to stay open. Strange, James was certain he could see the warm summer sun beaming down from a clear blue sky and he could smell lavender on breeze. Mmm, that was nice, like how his sheets and pillow cases always held traces of lavender detergent when they were washed. And oh, the grass in the meadow was as soft as his pillow.

This was...

"I think it is time for sleep, my James."

James stirred, blinking heavy lids as the book draped over his hand was gently removed.

"Miss Spider?" the little boy murmured groggily.

"Shh, yes. I am here, but you are in need of rest." Miss Spider's soft smile, framed by the light of his bedside lamp, was all James could see through his sleep-hazed eyes, but he felt her gentle hands tucking the blankets securely around him. The light vanished as Miss Spider turned off the lamp and James's eyes fell shut as his cheek pressed against his lavender-scented pillow.

"I'm glad you're home," James said, his voice barely audible as he lost the battle with sleep.

"As am I. Good night, my James." Miss Spider kissed her son's forehead. "Sleep well."

And indeed, he would.
************************************************************************************************************************************

"So how much of his new book did James manage to get through?"

"Barely past the first few pages and I am not sure he will remember much about it, he was so tired."

"I'm not surprised, the poor dear. This has been so hard on him."

"Been hard on all of us."

"Yes, Earthworm, so it has, but we were prepared for that to some degree. But to have Dylan lash out at James like he did was something we did not expect and as a result, James suffered for it."

"Yeah, well, that kid's outta our hair now." Centipede stretched out against the couch, relishing in the heat from the fireplace. "And after tonight, good riddance."

"Really, Centipede, Dylan is still a child," Mrs. Ladybug gently chided as she handed Centipede a cup of steaming coffee.

"A little monster, I'd say," Earthworm retorted. "I don't know how you handled that situation at your club, Miss Spider."

"A stained carpet can be easily dealt with. Unpleasant, yes, but manageable."

"Indeed. But his revolting stomach wasn't the only issue, was it?" Mr. Grasshopper asked.

"No it was not." Centipede snorted back laughter. "But we'll get to that. I gotta fill you in on what happened after Dylan left the Locke and Key Department store. Oh boy, did the Grand Deluxe have a story to tell!"

"I'm sure they did." Mr. Grasshopper sipped from his own mug of tea as the rest of the family settled on chairs or the couch with their own hot drinks. "So then, let's hear it."

"So it turns out the Grand Deluxe's got a similar idea as the Locke and Key. They got a room for kids to hang out in and I gotta admit it's pretty good. They got toys, games, art supplies, even a TV. There's also a snack bar in there where kids can get candy bars, chips, soda, and the like."

"Oh goodness, was that where Dylan was?"

"Yep."

"And let me guess, he spent the whole afternoon gorging himself on junk food?"

"He sure did."

"And how did no one find that suspicious?"

"Well, the Grand Deluxe is a little more on their game than the Locke and Key. Kids stayin' at the hotel can order what they like, but they gotta give the room number they're stayin' in before they get their snacks and then their parents get the bill. Harder to skip out on payin' that way."

"Then am I to assume Dylan simply gave the attendant at the children's refreshment station a false room number?"

"Pretty much. And that's how he eventually got caught. See, the hotel was havin' a fancy party tonight."

"Two, actually," Miss Spider reminded him. "One for the adults and one for the children."

"Yep. Dylan tried to sneak in, but seein' as how there was a dress code, that kid stuck out like a sore thumb."

"I'm sure. Did they realize what he'd done then?"

"Not quite. Accordin' to Tabitha Martin, the woman runnin' the ball, she told the kid he'd have to go back to his room to clean up and change and wouldn't you know it, Dylan pulled the whole "my grandma said I didn't have to" card on them."

"Of course."

"But get this: when Dylan told Tabitha what room he was in, two of the kids in line called his bluff. Turns out they were in that room and had no idea of who Dylan was!"

Despite themselves, no one in the family could resist laughing.

"Oh-ho, hoisted by his own petard!"

"Indeed. I'm sure the staff was going to confirm whether or not his story was true, but having two children catch him in a lie like that is quite funny," Mrs. Ladybug agreed.

"Unfortunately, what happened next was not," Miss Spider sighed. "Dylan was in a fit of temper and he kicked Tabitha in the leg in order to get away."

"He what?"

"He did."

"The little devil! Huh, he'll be lucky not be charged with criminal assault!"

"I'm not sure if that charge'll stick, Earthworm. Most of the time, if a kid gets violent in a public place, it's the parents who deal with the fallout."

"Which means another strike against Amelia," Mrs. Ladybug said.

"Yeah, and it won't be the only one 'cause Tabitha wasn't the only person Dylan hurt today."

"Oh no, how could this get worse?"

"He got into my club, Earthworm, remember?"

"Indeed. I imagine in all the scuffle he got away?"

"Yeah, but he left his backpack behind. One of the guards tried to grab the kid and only got his bag. But inside were Dylan's winter coat, a buncha comic books and a name tag with his address."

"Proving beyond a shadow of a doubt who was responsible for all the chaos," Mr. Grasshopper said with a nod. "I would be very interested to hear how Amelia Anderson will try and defend Dylan from that."

"No doubt we'll find out. But he actually ran into the storm without proper winter attire?" Mrs. Ladybug asked with wide eyes. "Thank Heavens your club was right next door, Miss Spider. That boy is far luckier than he'll ever know. If he'd been out in the cold without even a coat..."

"Indeed. But what's this about Dylan causing harm to someone else? Was it one of your employees, Miss Spider?"

"Yes, but thankfully Lacey was not hurt. When he was caught in the kitchen, Dylan ran right past our table and that was where Centipede and I caught him."

"Kid was a mess; he was covered in crumbs, chocolate syrup, everything. And lemme tell ya, Dylan was not happy about bein' caught. So the little monster grabbed a knife from one of the tables and tried to threaten me with it."

"He grabbed a knife?"

"Yeah. A butter knife."

"Oh really, Dylan?" Mrs. Ladybug covered her face with two hands.

"Clearly those crime shows have taught him such wonderful lessons," Mr. Grasshopper said with a frown.

"Yeah, like throwing the knife, which is what he did."

"He... Dylan actually threw the knife at you?"

"He tried. But his aim was as bad as his schoolwork."

"But it did hit Lacey."

"Is she alright?"

"She is fine. The knife merely glanced off of her arm; I do not think the serrated edge touched her, but she was certainly startled."

"Girl didn't even drop her trays, though; she's a real trooper."

"Still, that's yet another incident to report regarding Dylan. Between the numerous accounts of theft, his kicking Ms. Martin and now the knife throwing? I hate to say it, but Dylan may end up having to stay in juvenile detention for some time."

"Wouldn't surprise me. He deserves to pay for what he did."

"True, but how will that affect Dylan's chances of being sent to a good foster family?" Mr. Grasshopper asked. "I can't see many couples who will willingly take in a boy who has caused so much trouble."

"There... may be a solution. Neither Dylan nor his grandmother will like it, but I think it may be our only option at this point. Obviously, I'll need to speak to Rachel Gould and we'll likely have to clear it with the detention facility, but I think having Dylan sent away from the city to a more rural area would benefit him greatly."

"Wait, you mean send the kid to a farm?"

"In a matter of speaking, yes. Plenty of families who are part of farming communities are open to taking in wayward children. Yes, they are put to work and are expected to contribute, but the children are treated as members of the community and taught valuable skills. Obviously, we'll need to make sure Dylan is treated well and won't be harmed, but I've heard good things about some of these foster families and I'm sure Rachel has too. And perhaps the juvenile detention will be satisfied with Dylan learning to do honest work in lieu of remaining at their facility."

There was a pause as the family considered the idea.

"I admit I'm a bit intrigued," Mr. Grasshopper admitted. "Sending Dylan away in such a fashion seems harsh, but I can see the benefits of it, particularly in regards to his health."

"I gotta agree with you, Grasshopper. Plus, let's face it, Dylan clearly doesn't like school. Maybe learnin' to do stuff with his hands or workin' with animals may be more to his style."

"Doubt he'll see it that way," Earthworm groaned.

"Not at first, but perhaps in time." Miss Spider sipped the last of her coffee. "Perhaps this is a time where we must be cruel to be kind if it will help Dylan in the long run."

"Again, it's an idea. And who knows; perhaps there is a family in the city ready and willing to care for Dylan. We'll need to meet with Rachel to discuss our time with Dylan anyway; I'll see what she thinks about this plan then."

"Well, we won't be meetin' with her anytime soon." Centipede glanced out the window as another violent gust of wind made the lass panes shudder. "This storm ain't goin' nowhere and neither are we."

"Yes. Let us be glad we are all of us safe at home and if nothing else, that Dylan is somewhere he can be cared for."

"Right. Shall we retire for the evening? We've all had a long day; let's enjoy being confined to the house tomorrow. At least we won't be dealing with any temper tantrums."

The family shared one last laugh together as they, one by one, made their way upstairs. Miss Spider was the last to do so, as she insisted Mrs. Ladybug let her wash everyone's drink mugs and tidy the kitchen before bed. Once that was done, Miss Spider made her rounds through the downstairs of the Peach Pit, switching off all the lamps until the only source of light was Glowworm's tail bulb, which was barely shining due to the elderly insect sleeping peacefully in her hollow lamppost on the ceiling. Satisfied that all was well, Miss Spider crept up the stairs and toward her room.

Once in the hallway, however, Miss Spider paused and quietly pushed open James's bedroom door. Thankfully, her sweet boy was fast asleep, the blankets still tucked under his chin and a serene expression on his face. Glancing around the room, Miss Spider saw that James's otter toy was back on her truck, held in place by the vehicle's windshield wipers. Likely James had wanted his helpful toy to feel as safe and secure as he did and from the looks of it, the truck was happy to have her back. At last, that was what James would say and Miss Spider had to agree with on that.

"Sweet dreams, my James," Miss Spider whispered as she closed James's door once more. "Nothing to worry about tonight."

True, there was still the aftermath of the storm to deal with and then of course, the entire family would have to deal with the Dylan fiasco. But all in good time. For now?

All was well.