Chapter Twenty-seven: Crashing Down

"I can't believe I dropped my phone right here!" squealed Joy elatedly, her feet springing in the sloshy snow. She fronted her friend. "Lucky dat I fell at da right spot, huh?!"

Shell-shocked, he did not answer. His unblinking eyes were locked on the yellow, mobile device. Joy realized he was staring at it, and she gave him an assured beam.

"It's alright, Mo. My phone's waterproof."

While she wiped her smartphone with a coat sleeve, Moreau looked on in tense silence. He could sense his heightened pulse beating within his eardrums. Steadily, the fish-man heaved heavy breaths; trying to compose himself and clarify the present scenario.

Relax. I... I need to relax. Joy lives with me now. She's just happy to have something back again! His mouth-line arched lightly. The phone was out of power for a very long time. Maybe it no longer works.

With mittens returned to her winter coat pockets, Joy's finger pressed the side of her phone...

"Yay, it turned on!" the young woman exclaimed joyfully.

And like that, Moreau's smile and respite sank like a heavy stone into the murky abbess.

After another bounce, Joy observed the top corner of the lit OLED screen.

"And da wittle battery bar says it's half-full. I'm super-duper glad dat I decided ta shut it off ta keep some'a da power."

With the phone in her right hand, Joy wiggled her other index finger. Licking parched, ashen lips, Moreau restlessly clicked his pointy nails together.

"Uh... What... what is Joy doing?"

His friend briefly lifted her head. "Calling my mom, a'course!"

"W-Why?"

"So she can find me and take me back home ta L.A.-"

The woman squeakily gasped from the harsh, swift swat. Both she and Moreau peered down at the small crater left by the fallen smartphone.

Ultimately, the wide-eyed, quiet pair elevated their heads. Joy closely held the slapped hand. Moreau stared at his shaking palms and winced from the egregious deed, backing up from his disheartened, best friend.

"J-Joy! I'm, I'm, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He discerned the small, trembling chin and welling sights. "Oh please, please, don't cry!"

Joy sniffled. "W-Why... Why'd Mo do dat?"

"Be-Because you can't call your mother!" was the blurted retort.

"Huh?" Joy canted her head. "Why not?"

"Your mother isn't your mother anymore! Mine is!"

The befuddled woman's lower eyelids raised. "Mo... I... don't understand..."

Moreau started to widely march back and forth as saddened eyes followed.

"Mother brought, brought me Joy because I was alone. And, and, when I'd askeded you last night if you wanted to be in our lodge forever..." He paused to signal a thin, trembling digit at the aforementioned timber dwelling. "Joy said all right!"

Joy swayed her head from side to side while the whimpering fish-man resumed his agitated pacing.

"Mo... Nobody brought me here," stated the young woman ruefully, tapping her fingertips above her bosom. "...Joy brought Joy."

Moreau's hefty arched back was fronting her as he weakly chanted to himself. Joy stepped a little closer to listen.

"...as the mid-night m-moon rises on bl-black wings, so, so we make our sac-sacrifice and the light at the-the end..."

Joy slanted her view again as Moreau continued the strange invocation.

"In life and-and in death... we g-give glory, Mother Miranda."

"Is Mother Miranda your mom? Is she worried about you, too?"

Moreau dunked lower, and for the first time in days, he pulled his hood over his scalp. The regretful woman lowered her head and arms, rubbing a clasped, left hand. Not wishing to trouble her friend even more, she decided not to ask anything more about his parent.

"I'm sorry, Mo..." Joy idly yet sadly watched the shrinking icicles drip from the cabin roof. "I... I don't remember ya asking me about staying here forever. I was so sleepy and full from our birthday party and all da birthday cake."

Flashing back to their special day, with a low moan, Moreau fastened his eyes shut and trudged forward. His friend reached out.

"Wait, Mo, please!"

With a small hop, she retraced her footprints and bent to recover her smartphone. This time, she zippered her coat's pocket.

The worried woman shadowed Moreau as he aimlessly plodded forth. He could hold her in his territory with his enzyme and take the phone away, but something told him that people couldn't be besties by force.

"Mo, please be careful!"

The boots of the distracted fish-man trampled on what was left of his ice-crafted gift to his precious person. After stumbling crabwise, he stared at the crushed remains of the frosty figure and sunk his creased face into cupped hands.

"Oh, nooooo!"

"It's alright, Mo!" consoled Joy, standing beside him. "It was a boo-boo! Ya didn't mean it."

"Why?!" Moreau's hands remained pressed on his swaying face. "Oh, why?!"

"It's alright," crooned Joy once more. "Da snowmaid was melting anyways..." She slowly motioned a hand towards him. "Like ya said, dat's what ice does when spring begins."

But before the small palm was able to make contact with one of the lumps beneath the tattered trench-coat, Moreau hobbled several meters away and veered about-face with both anger and sadness laced in milky white sights.

"You said this house, this, this..." His index claw sharply indicated to the cabin. "...this lodge was our home! Joy's the Lady of the Lodge! You, you, you have our key now!"

The young woman frowned from hearing the plight in the slurry, throaty voice. Putting her hand into the back pocket of her blue jeans, she beheld the little copper symbol of her friend's trust.

"But Mo, da lodge is my home till I'm unlosteded, remember?"

Joy presented the key, but Moreau swiveled around again, snuffling loudly.

Peering down, his friend blinked tearfully, and a salty droplet ran along the little metallic teeth. The delight in the discovery of her smartphone with the promise to reunite with her mother was gone. Joy closed her eyes with a sigh. She didn't think ahead. How could she and Moreau stay best friends if they were half a world apart? He didn't own any kind of phone. Perhaps writing letters to each other would work?

But hugs can't be mailed... she thought disappointedly.

Joy pouted but then, nodded firmly. She had to get in touch with her mother.

Mama Bear's smart. She'll know what ta do so Mo and me can stay besties!

Sheathing the key within her jeans once more, the woman strode gingerly and stood a yard away behind the whining fish-man.

"Mo...? Please... don't be sad... I know what ta do."

Moreau didn't front her, however, his weeping lessened.

"If my phone doesn't get a signal here, I need ta go ta someplace where it'd work."

The crying stopped and Joy's heart became a little lighter.

"I don't wanna be out in da forest all by myself. But if ya help me find somewhere I can call my mom, we can-"

"No."

The rest of Joy's previous sentence was trapped in her throat.

"Wh-What?"

"I said NO!" reiterated Moreau as he faced her crossly, pumping fists and stomping his boots in place. "No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No!

The woman's expression grew confused and dispirited.

"But... But Mo... Ya promised you'd help me get unlosteded."

"I did and, and, and the promise is completeded!" His right hand hit his chest. "Joy's unlosteded with Mo! With, with, with Joy's bestie!"

Joy wiped at her watery vision with both hands. "A'course we're besties! But my mom has'ta help us 'cause I can't live here forever."

Moreau's broad jaw began to quiver. The woman put out her arms, but he quickly waddled aside; analogous to someone evading an irate hornet. Her limbs slackened when the fish-man resumed his wails of misery.

Joy folded her hands to her chest. "I really like it here, but... but I-I miss my real home."

Hearing this triggered Moreau to cover his dripping face again. Joy gasped and her sniffling increased tenfold.

"No, no, Mo! I... I didn't mean it like dat! It's just dat I-I miss Mama Bear so much! I m-miss our beach house and da goldfishies! I miss fresh fruit and veggies, and fresh bread and treats like coconut ice cream and 'specially pizza... ...Mo!"

The fish-man had suddenly lurched forward, spewing the remains of breakfast swimming in gastric acid, followed by bile. Lots of bile.

"Mo, are ya alright?!"

Moreau lumbered sideways, away from the mismatched green juices that seeped into the discolored snow. His colorless face fell even paler by a very sickening realization...

"Oh-no... no-no-no-no-no-no-no!"

"I'm so sorry, Mo!" The young woman leaped over the messy accident. "Was it from all da foodies I was saying dat made ya icky? Did'ja eat too many pancakes?"

Joy extended an arm. But with an even wider gait, Moreau shambled away from her again, clutching to his abdomen. How he'd been so foolish for thinking it would have stayed suppressed!

"Mo, please! Lemme-!"

"A... fool!" bewailed the hobbling fish-man between groans. "I'm a... stupid... fool! I'm... I'm-!"

Internal mocking echoed in his mind. His eye and frown-lines deepened as he screwed his sights tauter.

"A... fat fool... Ugly Fuggly... A... m-moronic freak!"

"No, you're not!" Joy shouted, pursuing her downcast friend. "You're a super-duper smart doctor-artist!"

"Alone! ... Mo's al-waysAlone!"

Joy knitted her red eyebrows from hearing the heaviness lurk in his voice. Now becoming more concerned and determined than ever, the woman rushed ahead of Moreau's abstruse marching, giving him no choice but to halt when she obstructed his path.

"Mo's not alone!" She jabbed a fist into her chest. "Joy's right here!"

Moreau glanced up with bloodshot eyes. "But... Joyce is go-going a-away..."

Joy stood agape. It wasn't just the tonal shift from anguish to defeat, but the disregard of her nickname. She felt her eyelids dampening more so.

Mo doesn't think we're best friends anymore?

Before the woman could regain her voice, Moreau's cheeks started to distend. He swirled around and retched, yet again.

"Oh, God!" He wavered up and down, gripping his midsection. "Oh, Mother! Why?! Why?!"

The familiar, pained spasms gushed within Moreau's upper torso. It was akin to being punched and kicked from the inside out, all at once. With a raw yelp, his hands and knees buckled to the cold, wet ground.

"Mo!"

Joy jumped to his side and bent over so he could see her.

"What's wrong?! Please tell me what I can do?!"

But the sniffled, heartfelt pleas fell on deaf ears. For the crawling fish-man was overcome with such abnormal agony. This was much, much worse than past occurrences.

The sounds of muffled squelching emitted from him. Moaning, Moreau pushed himself up on wobbly, knobby knees, and jerked his torso and limbs to shake off the heavy trench-coat. His aged, thin flesh was being whipped mercilessly.

Sobbing softly, Joy moved up to help...

"No... stay BACK!"

With a squeak, the surprised woman hopped backward as the old leather apparel dropped off.

Wide, anxious, puffy eyes gawked broadly at the many, slimy, sickly yellow tendrils swishing wildly from the fish-man's benign, massive mass that weighed him down.

"Mo! What's happening?! Wh-Why're dose snakes coming outta you?!"

Regaining her courage, Joy attempted to get near. However, two of the strange, long appendages snapped in her direction and the fright caused her to tilt over and hit her backside onto the ground.

While Joy sorely righted herself up, rubbing her tailbone, Moreau managed to hoist himself to his boots. He just stood there, slumped forward, staring at the earth with reedy arms hung lifelessly; the back of his fingers' knuckles was almost touching the fallen frost.

Joy held her laced hands to a trembling chin. "Please, Mo, let Jo- your bestfriend help!"

"...It's too late," countered, the despondent fish-man without turning his view off the ground. "I'm done."

The woman rapidly shook her head as wet lashes flittered tears, streaking her round face.

"Please don't say dat! Mo just... just feels icky wicky! We can go inside, and ya can have some pea soup ta help your tummy feel better! Den... den I can pull all dose snakes out!"

"It won't help... Nothing... helps me."

Tightening small fists, Joy stomped a sneaker.

"I'm helping!"

Ignoring the squirming things attached to her ailing friend, she took a step forth, but he turned and staggered onwards to keep his distance.

"Please Joyce... stay away... from... Mo- me..."

All his future expectations... all his... joyfulness... were all crashing down like a forceful tide during a diluvial thunderstorm.

"Ohhhhh Mo!" bawled Joy. "Dare has ta be something... MO!"

Groaning, Moreau had tumbled sideways, holding onto his flinching stomach. Joy fell to her knees, rocking herself. She'd always needed help before, but never in the woman's young life had she ever felt as helpless as she did right now.

Weakly, Moreau returned to his cold hands and achy kneecaps and finally, craned his head toward his sobbing, former best friend. His pained eyes welled up as well as hers.

It-It's... NOT fair! ...I should be with you... not her!"

"Wh-Whud'dya m-mean?" peeped Joy amid sniffles. "Ya mean my-my mom?"

But instead of answering, Moreau threw up; neither clearing the vomit from his sparse, uneven hair nor dragging himself away from the rancid mess.

Seeing her best friend so sick and in such despair made Joy rack her frazzled thoughts. Within moments, her somber expression lifted. The woman had an idea that could help both of their conundrum!

Straightening herself up, she looked down at the downed fish-man, hopefully.

"Mo, please listen! ...I'm getting unlosteded but I don't want my bestie ta be losteded! I want'cha ta come with me ta L.A!"

As the many vine-like appendages whizzed above, Moreau's swollen eyelids parted.

"L... A-A..?"

A small beam revisited Joy's features. "Yes, Mo! Ta California!"

Moreau respired heavily and hoarsely, balling up his fists underneath the snow as the young woman continued.

"Ya can live with me and my mom..!"

Moreau watched Joy spread those mighty, comforting arms that he missed so much already.

"...And I just know Mama Bear'll love you, too!"

Whimpering, the fish-man's squinting eyes gradually enlarged.

"L-Lov-?"

His deep voice was gagged as he regurgitated nonstop. Joy began to move, however, a tendril lashed for her once more. She jumped back. Was she just upset or were the slush-sounding snakes trying to catch her? And were they becoming longer?

At that minute, Moreau let his clammy body hit the mucky, icy dirt. The distraught woman covered her frown with both palms.

"You're m-mother... won't... l-love me," hacked Moreau. "I'm-I'm the reason... Mothers N-NEVER love me!

"Dat's NOT true!" shouted Joy. "Ya... Ya just don't know her yet, dat's all!"

Joy's downturned lips spread broadly when her jaw dropped. Moreau's entire mutated self was violently shaking.

"Mo! Are ya cold?!"

"N-no-o-o-o... G-Go inside our- the lodge and, and... l-lock m-m-m-m-me out."

Firmly, Joy swerved her head from side to side.

"No! I won't do dat!"

With the contracting pain and nausea escalating in waves, the fish-man knew...

"Sorry- I... I'm... not... g-getting...better... anymorrrrre."

His hazy vision spied Joy slowly approaching again.

"...Plee-ease... s-st-tay awaaaaay!"

Ignoring, the request and the snapping tendrils, the attentive woman outspread her arms...

"I saaaaaid...STAY AWAY!"

Large and long-drawn-out bubbling enzymes shot up from the ground, fencing Joy off and she faltered onto her hip and shoulder with a sharp grunt.

Still in earshot, was more puking several times in a row, followed by a raucous wail.

"OH, God! ...It's... ripping me APARRRRRT!"

"I don't understand!" Joy called out. "What is?!"

Then... the perceived moans and cries were silenced by an excruciating, croaky scream.

"MO!"

Joy got to her soppy sneakers and dashed alongside the lengthy, gooey border. When she reached its end, the shrieks of agony had ceased. And bright green orbs gawked at nothing left but vast vomit puddles, a sutured-up trench-coat, and a pair of ripped, winter boots.

The young woman reared her head, just in time to see the tail end of something immense and utterly unrecognizable. Something that was felling evergreens in its wake; resonating the forest sky with the soniferous disharmony of an angry whale infused with a rattling crocodile.

The hated-self of Doctor Salvatore Moreau had resurfaced.