Ch. 14

Night was falling fast over Central Park. James was trying to get home as fast as he could, but the snow was piling up around his legs. He shivered, feeling the wind whip against his face. Why oh why had he gone out without his coat in the middle of winter?

James paused and looked around. Strange, the path ahead of him was dark, but there were lights along the stone path that led close to his home. James shivered again and trudged forward. Ahead of him, he could see a faint light; good, he was almost home and soon he'd be inside and out of the cold. The little boy continued to walk, looking up as the light seemed to dance just out of reach.

Wait a moment... why was he looking up? The Peach Pit wasn't on a hill! Not like...

No!

James halted, dread filling him as an all-too-familiar house loomed closer. A heavy coat of pure-white snow couldn't mask the grimness of the splintery walls and grimy windows. Even the yellow light spilling out from the frosted panes was more akin to the glaring eyes of a snarling beast than a promise of warmth and safety.

"There you are!"

James whimpered at the sound of Aunt Spiker's voice. The kitchen door swung open, showing the shadowy silhouettes of James's previous guardians. They stood with their arms crossed and though he couldn't make out their facial features, the little boy could feel their glares.

"You're in serious trouble, boy!"

"Please... Auntie Spiker... I-"

"Who was it that knocked all the pictures off the wall?"

"Auntie Sponge, I didn't do that! I promise!"

"And who scattered the fireplace ashes all over the living room?"

"No, I-"

"And who stole all my biscuits?"

"I wouldn't have-"

"He did it!"

James froze as Dylan stepped out from between Spiker and Sponge. His pudgy face was etched in a sneer as he spoke in a smug tone.

"He deserves to be punished, not me!"

"I...I... I didn't do anything."

"Punish him!"

BRRRRRIIINNNGGG!

James bolted up in his bed, his heart pounding and his throat dry. Hastily blinking sleep from his eyes, James turned to see the source of the noise was his alarm clock. Never had James been so glad to be yanked out of sleep and he was careful to switch the alarm off as gently as possible.

"Thanks," he murmured to the now-silent clock. With a sigh, the little boy pushed himself out of bed, trying to shake off the remnants of the nightmare.

"Just a dream," James whispered to himself. "It's not real. It can't be real."

Well of course it couldn't be real! For one thing, Spiker and Sponge were far away in a British jail right now and their house had been demolished at the end of this past year. So, even if he wanted to go back (and James couldn't think of a reason he'd ever want to go back to that hilltop again), there would be nothing to see. As for Dylan being there? Well, he'd never met Spiker and Sponge and even he had, there was no way they'd ever listen to the older boy, much less tolerate his antics!

They'd still punish you though.

James sighed as he finished dressing and making his bed. True, Spiker and Sponge would have likely punished James for any of Dylan's misdeeds just like the older boy wanted, but that was more due to the fact that they hated him (and all children) rather than yielding to Dylan's demands.

Dylan wouldn't like what they'd do to him

No, no he wouldn't.

Would that be so bad?

Yes! Yes it would!

Really?

James shook his head, forcibly silencing the nagging voice. Wanting Dylan to be punished for breaking rules was one thing, but no one- no one- deserved to be treated like Spiker and Sponge treated him!

Satisfied with that last thought, James put his pajamas away and ducked into the bathroom to brush his teeth, wash his face, and comb his hair. As he did, the little boy studied his reflection carefully. As far as he could see, there was no indication that he'd had a nightmare visible in his expression. Okay, good; so long as he acted like he was fine, his family wouldn't have any reason to believe anything was wrong.

All the same, James felt a twinge of guilt in his chest. He knew that every one of his guardians would insist he could talk to them about anything, be it bad dreams or bad behavior, but James couldn't bring himself to confess to his family about the last two nightmares he'd had. Especially this last one, given how Dylan had made an appearance. The older boy was causing enough problems in the house; the last thing James knew his family needed was hearing about how Dylan's antics were making their way into his dreams!

No, James decided, his family had enough to worry about. And given how Dylan's room was currently silent, there was likely going to be another fight at the breakfast table about Dylan not liking what was served for the morning meal along with his not wanting to go to school. That was enough for his family to handle. James grabbed his backpack from his room, checking the contents briefly to make sure he had everything. Good, his completed homework, what he needed for his project, everything was here. And anyway, he planned to add the last piece of the project Friday morning anyway. James managed a grin at the otter toy, who was still curled up on top of the truck and looking very content indeed. Yes, the little boy decided, the otter would be perfect for what he had in mind!
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Plans for his project aside, James still felt a twinge of trepidation as he made his way downstairs. Aside from the clattering of plates, he could hear the low voices of nearly his entire family deep in conversation. The little boy paused for a moment, not sure if he should intrude.

"... find out today..."

"...do you think..."

"...Dylan..."

"Oh, James, good morning, dear." Mrs. Ladybug had spotted him. The rest of his family turned their own welcoming smiles in James's direction as the little boy stepped into the dining room.

"Good morning. I heard you talking and I wasn't sure if I wasn't supposed to hear."

"It's fine, kid; nothing to worry about." Centipede flashed James a wide grin. "Just makin' plans about our current roommate."

"Centipede!"

"What?"

"Is Dylan's grandmother alright?"

"That's what we're going to find out today," Mr. Grasshopper clarified as he poured himself a cup of freshly-brewed tea. "She had to have several tests done and the results should tell us what the future will entail for both her and Dylan. Is that not so, Mrs. Ladybug?"

"Indeed. We're hoping Dylan's grandmother will be able to leave the hospital on Sunday, but she may need to stay there longer."

"So will Dylan stay with us longer, then?"

"He may have to."

"Unfortunately," Earthworm added, ignoring the annoyed glances some of the others sent his way.

"But Dylan's grandmother will be alright, won't she?"

"I'm sure she will," Mrs. Ladybug assured him. "It just may take longer for her to get better, that's all."

"And speaking of taking longer, are we to assume that Master Dylan is attempting to avoid school again by not coming to breakfast?" Mr. Grasshopper raised his eyes toward the ceiling.

"I didn't hear if he was awake."

"Oh, wonderful, another morning of chaos."

"Never mind Dylan, Earthworm," Miss Spider cut in smoothly. "We will wake him, as usual, and he will go to school, as usual. In the meantime, James, come and eat."

"Sounds good to me."

"And it is your turn to wake Dylan, Centipede."

"Ain't it enough I gotta take him to school?"

"I will take your place now if you're willing to handle him this evening," Mr. Grasshopper said.

"... I got this."

"That's what I thought."

James watched as Centipede left the room to head upstairs before following Miss Spider to the dining room. A plate of eggs, bacon, and toast was already waiting for him and James took his seat as the rest of his family did the same. The little boy ate slowly, starting to feel more relaxed as no one seemed to realize anything wrong with him. Even Earthworm looked a bit happier as peace and quiet settled over the table.

"NOOOOOO!"

Said peace and quiet was shattered as Dylan's screech echoed through the house. The family winced at the sound and Miss Spider stood up.

"Perhaps I should help Centipede," she said as she left the dining room. "Dylan does seem to need at least two of us to handle him."

"Which means you and I will have to deal with him tonight," Mrs. Grasshopper said with a nod in Mrs. Ladybug's direction.

"Best prepare yourself then. Dylan's going to need a bath tonight and I doubt he'll be happy about that."

"Are we really certain that we can deal with more of this nonsense?" Earthworm asked with a groan. "Are we absolutely sure that-"

"Once we are more informed about the health of Mrs. Anderson, we can determine how much longer Dylan will need to stay with us," Mr. Grasshopper said firmly. "Until then, we must endure."

"Hah, I think we've endured plenty. And I know I'm not the only one who feels that way."

Another screech ripped through the air, which James was thankful for as everyone looked toward the stairs and gave James time to hide his expression behind his glass of orange juice. A swallow of the sweet liquid was enough to wash the guilty expression off his face, but the shadows of his nightmarish aunts and Dylan's sneering face lingered in his mind's eye.

"James?"

The little boy looked up to see Mr. Grasshopper's concerned face.

"Are you alright, my boy?"

"Yes. I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Mrs. Ladybug was coming around the table to peer at his face. "You look a little pale, dear. Did you sleep alright?"

"Yes. Really, I'm fine." James repeated. And technically, that was true. After all, he'd only had his nightmare right before he woke up, so he did manage to sleep through the night.

"Hmmm." Mrs. Ladybug shared Mr. Grasshopper's look of concern and laid a hand against her son's forehead. "Well, you're certainly not feverish. Is anything else bothering you?"

"Oh, I can think of something," Earthworm said.

"Oh, really, Earthworm."

"No, I'm okay. Just thinking about what Tessa and I have to do today for our project." Again, true, James had been thinking about what he and Tessa could do for their presentation on Friday morning, thanks to the otter toy giving him the idea.

"If you're certain." Mr. Grasshopper rubbed the little boy's back with a gentle hand. "But if there's something-"

"AHHHHH!" The moment was interrupted as Centipede and Miss Spider managed to lug Dylan into the kitchen between them. The older boy's face was still puffy from sleep and he wore the same clothes he'd had on the day before, but his hair was combed and James was certain Dylan's face had at least been rubbed with a warm washcloth.

"Better eat, Dylan. We gotta leave in ten minutes."

"NOOOO!"

"Suit yourself- everything okay?" Centipede turned to see James still the center of Mrs. Ladybug and Mr. Grasshopper's attention.

"I'm sure we'll all be fine," Mrs. Ladybug said with a resigned smile. She ran her hand lightly over James's cheek before turning her attention to Dylan. "I know you're not fond of eggs, Dylan. Do you like bacon with your toast?"

"I want chocolate pancakes and chocolate milk!"

"That's not even an option today. Eat your toast and I'll pour you some orange juice."

"I WANT CHOCOLATE MILK!"

"Yelling will get you nowhere, Dylan." Miss Spider frowned at him before returning to her place next to James. However, her frown did not entirely fade as she met her son's eyes.

"Is everything truly alright, my James? I heard your alarm and you usually wake up before it rings, do you not?"

"I know. I guess I was just tired."

"You did mention that last night," Miss Spider noted. "Are you still feeling tired?"

"A little, but I'm alright. Really."

"Are you certain, James? If you're not feeling well enough for school, there is no shame in-"

"I WANNA STAY HOME!"

"If you were feeling unwell, Dylan, I would extend that offer to you." Mr. Grasshopper narrowed his eyes at the older boy, but his touch on James's back was gentle as he turned back to his son. "As I was saying, my boy, if you're not feeling well enough..."

"No, I feel fine."

"Well, if the kid says he's fine, he's fine. Besides, you'll get an early start to the weekend, right, Jimmy-boy?"

"Yes."

"No fair." Dylan slumped across the table as he whined. "I wanna stay home. Why should he get to when I can't?"

"But I'm not staying home."

"Why not? They're gonna let you."

"We would let either of you stay home from school if you were sick," Mrs. Ladybug clarified. "But James says he's not ill and judging by the amount of energy you displayed this morning, Dylan, you are in quite excellent health. As such, school for you both."

"And we gotta get movin'. C'mon, kids, let's go."

"Not fair!"

Mr. Grasshopper shook his head, giving James's back one more fond rub before letting him up. "Best run along, my boy. And I must say, I'm getting quite eager to see the result of this project of yours."

"I should be done with it tomorrow night. I'll show you then."

"Excellent. Have a good day, James."

"And here's lunch for both of you." Mrs. Ladybug was bringing out the two lunch bags. "James, dear, I have fresh tuna salad for you again."

"Thank you!"

"Of course. Dylan, yours is peanut butter and strawberry jam."

"I don't feel well!"

"Nice try, kid!"

"I need to stay home!"

"You do not." Miss Spider draped Dylan's coat over his back and placed his hat and scarf by his arm. "Now hurry along or you will be late."

"I don't care!"

"We do. Now let's go!"

"NO!"

Once again, Dylan's protests fell on deaf ears. And once again, he was carried to school by Centipede where, once again, a day of no recess awaited the older boy. But though he showed no interest in his schoolwork, Dylan's mind was not idle and by the time school let out, Dylan Anderson was ready to put his plan into motion.